Twin Soldiers.

Thirteen: Not America.

"Hey,"

Your head whipped around quickly, the sudden presence startling you.

Was I so out of it that I couldn't even sense anyone anymore?

"I wanna go back." You murmured, your arms rigid as the cold flew past you. "You know neither of them are going to let that happen."

"Not to them. Just to Romania. This-New York-isn't my home anymore. I miss the snow, and I miss my bed being on the ground...I slept on metal tables and now sleeping on nothing but memory foam and feathered down, it's-its driving me out of my mind."

The man next to you hesitantly pulled you into him and you rested your head on his shoulder.

"I finally figured out where I know you from." You hummed, waiting for him to explain.

"My dad had this scrapbook. And it was full of drawings and pictures of you four, the summer of 43' I think,"

You smiled. You remembered the month you'd made that scrapbook for Howard. It was a going away gift since you wouldn't be seeing him for awhile.

"How is Howard? Still kickin' it?"

"Yeah," Tony smiled. "He's been better. We just lost mom, so he's a bit less in that old man groove."

"Would you take me to him before I ask to leave New York? I would really love to see a familiar face."

"Yeah. Anything to help you remember."

"Okay, he's a little loud, so just try to ignore it."

"I'm used to it."

Tony slightly eyed you as you said that. He had no idea he was looking at the woman who could've been his mother.

You and Steve were temporarily separated, and one night, you and Bucky had gone to one of the parties the howling commandos had thrown for the 107th, as a means of celebrating living through the first battle of many more to come.

You were wearing that red dress that Steve and every other guy who saw you loved, and fortunately for you, Howard Stark had loved every moment of you in that dress.

And out of it.

"Tony!" You smiled shyly as Howard hugged his son. "And who is.." His eyes widened and softened all at one time and you smiled a bit bigger.

"I-You're alive?"

"Yeah, it's me." Howard embraced you tightly, small sniffles escaping his breath. "I know you didn't mean it. I knew it."

You knew he was speaking of the time in '91. You had almost killed him, and he knew that it was you.

"I'm so sorry."

"Don't need to be."

You spent hours discussing the 40's with Howard. He hadn't changed at all. Still the same silly man, just a lot older.

But then again so were you.

"I remember when we first met like it was yesterday. You were arguing with your brother about something-"

"And then I ran into you while I was walking backwards about to slap him."

"Yes, you did." His light laughs turned into heavy coughing and you grabbed his water quickly. "Here."

"You don't need to take care of me."

"Well, let's call it making up for lost time."

Tony walked in and leaned against the door frame. "I see you two are enjoying yourselves," When you stopped talking to nod, a terrible feeling surfaced in your chest.

"Excuse me," It felt so unfamiliar yet familiar at the same time, but you had no idea what it was.

"Hey, are you-oh God. Look, Look, deep breaths."

"I nee-I need..I can't-James."

It was separation anxiety, and they were both feeling it. Being gone for five hours on end was no longer an option, as the anxiety attack you just had the worst thing ever.

"Awe, they're like puppies."

"Ninety year old puppies." Steve added, watching as their breaths slowed to sync as they stayed wrapped in each other's arms.

"They were never like this when everyone knew. But Bucky told me everything was heightened while they were under, so this must've been happening all the time and now we're seeing it because they can't handle it." Steve went to watch them sleep on the bedroom cameras, to see if being with  each other stopped the nightmares.

It didn't.