100 YEARS OF WINTER - marvel

James Barnes was sixteen years old when his baby sister came into the world, pink and wrinkly and screaming her little head off.

And James? James was unimpressed.

She was tiny-too tiny. Her hands were no bigger than his thumb, her head barely covered in a fuzz of dark hair. She cried constantly, made Ma exhausted, and stole all the attention in the apartment. And worse? She was completely useless. Couldn't walk, couldn't talk, couldn't even hold her own head up or go get groceries.

He had brothers. Brothers he could roughhouse with and throw punches at. This? This little thing wasn't a sibling-she was a baby.

And yet, despite all his grumbling, he still found himself staring at her when nobody was looking.