Scars Run Deep

Chapter V

December 11, 1941

Elle was in the middle of making dinner when she heard the door open.

"Hey, Gracie!" Steve's voice called from the entryway.

"In the kitchen!" Elle called back.

Steve walked into the kitchen, with Bucky not far behind. Not a surprise, because Steve had gone to buy some flour and Bucky had just got off work. He made a habit of coming to the Roger's apartment for dinner most nights.

Bucky sniffed the air "Smells delicious, Babygirl" he peeked over her shoulder "Is that beef stew?"

Elle could practically hear the hunger in the taller man's voice "Yes, it is."

"Buck, I think the only reason you come over anymore is for Grace's cooking." Steve broke in

"Well, Babygirl makes swell food"

"Is that your excuse?" Steve looked at Bucky with meaning Elle didn't catch. Whatever Steve was talking about, a blush came across his face.

"You're a punk" Bucky replied and hid his red face by getting some cutlery for the group.

"You're a jerk"

"Fellas, if your conversation was heard by a normal person, one would think you're enemies rather than friends." Elle chided them

Steve had a crooked smirk as he whispered in her ear "And if someone saw the way you look at Bucky, they would think you love him"

Elle knew for sure that her cheeks were a flushed scarlet "How'd you know?"

"Later" he replied.

Mercifully, Bucky didn't seem to hear the conversation "A normal person would eat the food instead of standing in front of it."

Elle busied herself with fixing dinner for the trio, but her brain wasn't on the task. All that Elle could think about was Bucky and how Steve knew she was in love with him. She hadn't told him, and Elle thought she had covered her feelings up well enough. Apparently not, because now she had to explain to her brother that she did love his best friend. That was going to be complicated.

Elle pulled herself out of her thoughts when Bucky spoke "How was work, doll?" Yet again, there was another nickname only Bucky used that sent chills down Elle's spine

"Work went well, but was busy. The boutique received a shipment of cotton, so I spent most of my day lifting and transporting the spools of fabric to the storage room."

"What exactly is your role?" Bucky seemed confused

"Sometimes I'm conducting purchases, others I'm tailoring dresses. It depends on the day and what's needed to be done. How was work for you?"

Bucky began to talk about his work at a local automotive repair shop. His father was an accomplished pilot, but Bucky didn't want anything to do with his father's wealth. Instead, Bucky worked hard hours working on cars for a reason that hadn't been shared with Elle. It was grueling work sometimes and the profits were minimal.

"...And then one man brought in a beautiful 1930 Ford Model A Roadster with a busted front axle..." Bucky continued "It was a pain to see such a killer diller machine broken like that..."

Steve stayed silent while the two continued to talk about their respective work. He was the only one to not work due to companies turning him down. They always told him varied excuses, but deep down Steve knew it was because of his height. He was glad that Gracie had been able to find work so quickly after the stock market crash and their mother's death. Though she never mentioned it, Steve knew Elle was worn out every day from work.

"Speaking of the war" Bucky started, grabbing Steve's attention "We've officially entered it."

"We're at war?" Elle's voice was a hoarse whisper.

Steve laid his hand on hers "I'm surprised you didn't find out earlier, but yes."

Elle took a deep breath "I pray this is over soon"

"We all do" Bucky covered Elle's other hand

The shadow of war seemed to hover over her head

"I'm going to clean up for dessert," She said, quietly picking up the dishes and disappearing into the kitchen.

Bucky and Steve exchanged looks. This war impacted everyone hard, but Elle was close to her father and saw the effects of war firsthand. The ones who fight in a war never come back the same.