Winter Widow One Shots

Family Relations

"James, there's some people here who want to see you."

He looked up from his hunched position at the kitchen table. The frustrations of the day had caught up to him, he'd left his meal half eaten, and pushed the rest around as he replayed his mistakes. Natalia had been patient and understanding. She had tried to talk him through it, explain that it wasn't all on him, that he couldn't blame himself every single time. But the mission had gone so south, and the memories it had brought up were haunting and filling him with pain now.

"She reached out to us, she asked to come and I think it's important you talk to her. I think it could bring some healing."

She held open the door to their small apartment and an old woman who looked like she could die at any moment sat in a wheel chair. Her skin was paper thin, white hair stuck out in almost every direction. Years of wrinkles cluttered her face but he would never forget those eyes. Those eyes had begged him to stay home from the war. Begged him to play with her each day, and so much more.

"R-Rebecca?" His voice was shaky, uncertain. He didn't want to get his hopes up. He couldn't get his hopes up.

"Jamie..."

There was only one person who had ever called him Jamie. Even now name was quiet, hardly above a whisper but it was enough to break him. To send him to his knees shaking. He dropped his head in her lap, fingers gripping at the blanket covering her lap. Her worn fingers resting on his head as they both cried. His little sister. Alive. He had been too scared to find out. Feared that she would have passed in a horrible way. Or worse, hate him for what he had become. He did, so why wouldn't she? But here she was. A piece of who James Buchanan had been. Who he could be again.

"I didn't believe the news, when they said you were alive. And still so young. But then they said you had done such horrible things."

He sat up and shook his head, salty tears still trickling down his face. "I didn't want to I swear, but-"

"I know Jamie. I know." She smiled at him, and then coughed. A sickening sound as she struggled to dislodge whatever was causing it. James immediately moved back unsure how to help her. She may have been his litter sister but she had lived a life, and it was catching up to her.

The woman behind her chair knelt and pulled out a water bottle. "Here you go mom."

James hadn't noticed her before. She has the same round face as Rebecca, the bright blue eyes of the Barnes family.  Her dark hair was turning gray but she still had youth in her. He imagined she resembled Becca 25 years ago.

"Mom?" He looked at his little sister with a smile.

Rebecca nodded. "This it's my daughter, Winnie."

"After mama?" He asked quietly. Rebecca once again nodded. Her frail fingers brushed James' cheek before falling to her lap.

"And behind her, would be my great-great grand daughter. Jamie." A hesitant child popped her head out, she looked the same as Rebecca had the day he left.

11 years old, and he had said good bye for good. But neither of them had known it that day. He had promised he'd be home, and asked her to watch over Steve.

"Jamie?" He rose to his feet, shaking. Her grandchild had named her daughter after him. Of all the people they could have chosen they chose him. "That's-that's a beautiful name."

"She looks just like you." James took a step towards her and the girl hid behind her grandmother. Winnie turned and tried to encourage her to step out but she refused.

"It's okay. I understand." He held up his hands and stepped back. "Your great grandma was a pretty shy girl too when she was your age."

That got her to peak her head out with an eyebrow raised. She took a small step to the side, and James saw a pink tutu on top of pink tights. Her princess rain jacket covered the top of the leotard but he had spent enough time around girls wearing them that he knew what they looked like.