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Nomad

"Hey, Stark,"  I grin, standing in the doorway to the engineer's workspace. "Working late?"

Howard turns to me, putting the screwdriver in his hand on top of the workbench. "Something like that, yeah," he shoots a smile in my direction and tucks his hands into his pockets. His shirt is open at the collars, a splash of oil on the left side- I feel underdressed in my civvies. I think my shirt has a button missing.

"You may want to think about retiring. We have a test flight tomorrow morning and I'm unwilling to be dropped in the ocean the first time we fly together."

Howard has the audacity to laugh at me. "Don't you trust me, Agent Carter?"

I shrug- of course I trust him. "I'll make that evaluation after I've seen you fly," I smirk, eyeing the way his lips quirk up at the corner too. "I mean it, though. From experience, there's no use flying on three hours sleep. Go to bed."

"Are you offering to take me?"

"Only if you're going to say yes," even I'm shocked at my own bravery as I hold my hand out to him.

He bridges the gap between us and takes it. I can't help but blush as I look down at our interlinked fingers. It feels... nice is much too weak a word for the fluttering cliches in my chest. The things this man does to me...

"Come on, Yank," I tug him away, only pausing briefly to let him lock the door. We talk offhandedly about tomorrow's test flight until we reach the dormitories; I'll be going left, Howard right. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"Tomorrow," Howard echoes. His fingers graze my palm as we separate and I swear there's a literal spark. "Goodnight, Rikki Carter."

"Goodnight, Howard Stark."

*

Sam and Steve are both refusing to let me attempt to fly the Quinjet. I even told them I apparently used to pilot with Howard Stark- no luck. Maybe Sam will teach me at some point. Anyway, why are we on the Quinjet?

We're going to see my sister. 

Steve thinks it's about time I met her- you know what I mean. I may not remember much about her but we were important to each other. He's also warned me about her Alzheimer's. Seems like neither of us has the best memory these days. If she can recall Steve, though... she has to remember me. I need her to.

The two of us (Sam's only here because we needed a pilot, so he's waiting at a coffee shop a few streets away) are allowed access to Peggy's room together. Suddenly I'm uncertain- what am I doing here? She probably won't want to see me after all I've done. 

"Peggy's having one of her better days," one of her carers informs us before we enter. "You should be able to hold a good conversation."

Steve thanks her- the two are on a first-name basis. How many time has he been here? I'll ask him another time. Steve goes in first, holding the door open for me. "Hi, Peggy. I've brought someone else to see you today." He has to practically drag me in- I've never been so nervous about anything in my entire life.

My sister, lying in the bed, looks up at me. She's old- why did I not expect that? Most people are not in and out of cryostasis all the time; even so, I can still see the photographs of young Peggy in her face. "Hello," I say apprehensively, sitting down to the left of her bed. It's nice of these people to provide seating for guests. Or am I just so out of touch with basic human kindness that this isn't normal to me?

"You look just like my sister," Peggy sighs, placing a wrinkled hand on my cheek. "You even have her eyes."

I let Steve explain that I actually am her sister; I've never seen anyone so happy to see me. He tells her everything- I really do mean everything, memory loss and murder included- and Peggy even cries, holding my hand as tight as she can manage. "Do you know why my eyes are like this?" I ask. It's been bugging me for ages- it's not normal to have silver specks in one's eyes.

Peggy nods. "You had an infection when you were young. The doctors' thought you'd lose your sight, but then they gave you penicillin and it cleared. The silver never went away, though. You used to hate it until Michael convinced you otherwise."

"Michael?" Who's that again? "Oh, my brother. Our brother." None of this feels right to me. Having a family is such an odd feeling- Bucky would never believe it. Except maybe in the past we did know this. Maybe we knew all of this, and I'm just learning it again.

It's much too soon when a carer comes in to ask us to leave- visiting hours are over, so we're not allowed to stay. I don't want to go. Peggy's taught me so much about our childhood and our lives with the SSR. Her and Howard Stark went on to become great friends and I wish he were still alive because I'm sure he would know more about me and our relationship. I have to know more. I have to know everything.

*

Captain America

Rikki is fairly withdrawn all the way to the coffee shop where Sam waits. All she's done in answer the few questions I've thrown her way with minimal interaction. Maybe it was a bad idea, bringing her to see Peggy. Sam must notice something's off too because he's uncharacteristically quiet and he pays for our drinks.

"This place is weird," Rikki eventually says, sipping from her latte. "But, I will admit, the coffee is quite delicious."

"Is this your first time in a Starbucks?" I question, then realise how stupid I sound. It's not like she's really had a chance to grab a coffee with Bucky in the outside world, is it?

"You've missed out," Sam remarks. Rikki shoots him one of her trademark sarcastic glares, both of them dissolving into laughter. I notice her finger the ring around her neck as we drink, deciding against mentioning how attached she is to it. I wonder if she's thinking about Howard or Bucky.

I wonder if she's thinking at all.

*

Rolling over in bed the next morning, I check my phone. The device is buzzing on the nightstand: a voicemail. I play it.

"Hey, Steve, it's Sam. Rikki and I are going to Italy- don't know when we'll be back. Don't call me, I'll call you." 

Typical.

*

Winter Soldier

I can't believe she found me. HYDRA found me. I've been so careful to stay hidden from the world and yet she still knew where it was. That's why I left that device behind- I have a feeling she had one too, and that's how she found me. Without it, I'm hoping they have no way of finding me. I was stupid to hold on to it for as long as I did. I don't really know why I did.

But that woman... she was Carter. I know she was. Who else would be able to find me, tracker or no tracker? If she's like me she'll know all the things I do, which is why I have to make sure she can't find me again. I need to disappear. I can't let her find me.

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