The Shattered Window (FIRST AVENGER)

3

January 5th, 1931

Gemma flung her schoolbooks to the ground with an over exaggerated groan from her dry throat. She pulled the tissue out of her too small dress coat and sneezed for what felt like the millionth time that day. Her head spun covered in dry snot and dust from outside.

The present winter proved to be quite beneficial for the doctors and chemists who watched the New York public crawl into their makeshift offices half-dead. They all begged on their knees for relief whether it was from their illnesses or the country's failing economy. It seemed everyone suffered from a blocked nose and a foreclosure sign on their homes.

Gemma's home, the walls she had grown to appreciate as she watched people in the streets sit and freeze unable to buy food for their children, stood bare. Any furniture and items they didn't need, if not thrown away immediately, were exchanged for food, blankets, or anything that could keep them afloat until the wave of depression ended.

Meredith lay in an uncomfortable position on the couch with her limbs tucked up, but still exposed to the cold winter air. She had, at most, five hours of sleep each night before she had to tackle her never ending job at the Anderson's estate. She cooked, cleaned, and cared for their three young children whilst the parents scammed the already corrupt social system.

Her position in the hospital was immediately taken from her when the banks started systematically failing and the general public began to freak out. It wasn't all bad. Although she lost her position because unemployment rates sky rocketed and more entitled people argued their rights, it potentially saved her.

Stories had spread through the city of violent murders and death at the hands of people dying to land a job, some willing to go as far as kill in order to spare an interview. The world had grown dark.

The family, much like the rest of America, scavenged for money anywhere they could, but it became harder and harder each day. Eventually David left to find better work. His boss suggested mechanical hardware development in China and he was gone, in his place, he left nothing more than a monthly pay check that got them through the month.

With the only energy she had left, Gemma fetched her mother a blanket from her room and placed a kiss on her forehead. She would never question her mother's strength, but she worried for her health. As each day dragged on Meredith only grew more frail and sick, but there wasn't much more Gemma could do for her.

"You missed a lot today," Gemma hummed from the Roger's kitchen as she combined a mixture of warm food into a bowl. "I heard Todd's rebelling against his father. He's refusing to play baseball or something melodramatic. There's a rift in his and Richard's relationship. Who would have thought? Looks like we didn't need to get them off the team, they've gone and done it themselves."

Steve didn't respond, which didn't bother Gemma. It was a cycle. She spent the night at his side, went to school, came from school to check on him, and complained about her day. He was too sick to negotiate.

His mother, Sarah, anxiously busied herself with work. The hospital took advantage of her distressed state and knew she would do anything to be able to afford proper medication for her son. Lord only knew what she would do if she lost her son too.

"Oh, and Mr. Cunning gave the test scores back, finally. I did pretty decent too. Would have helped if he weren't such a sexist pig all the time. I'm over him and everything he stands for. They shouldn't let people like him teach, honestly," Gemma mumbled.

She left a sneeze out into her elbow and gathered her gifts for the sick boy. Her gifts consisted of warm food, and a carefully sought out book she thought would give him some peace of mind if he found the time to read it.