Chapter Text
It is a given fact that the week before winter break is one of the hardest ones for any school aged person to get through. Days, hours, minutes are counted down until the final bell goes and there is a glorious stretch of freedom ahead. Getting to that bell, however...well, that’s the hard part.
Having study hall at 1:45 in the afternoon the Thursday before winter break doesn’t at all help Joey with the feeling that time has slowed down, stretched out to an infinite crawl before that all important final bell hits and he can head home. His science textbook is open in front of him, however instead of reading he’s got his head down on the pages, eyes closed, pen clutched in his hand and poised over the page to give the impression that he’s at least attempting to study.
“No one’s buying it,” Dani whispers next to him where they sit at one of the bench style tables in the science lab, poking him in the side with the eraser end of a pencil.
Joey just squirms and frowns, eyes still closed. “I didn’t sleep well. I need a nap.” Well, to be fair, he hasn’t been sleeping well for a few days, thanks to a lot of twisting and turning and unexpected midnight chats with his uncle. All of that was catching up to him now, apparently.
“Your funeral,” she fires back, waving a dark-skinned hand in his direction.
Barely thirty seconds after that a strong, strident voice cuts through the fog. “Mr. Kirby, while I know study hall isn’t the most interesting, you are still required to stay awake and actually study during it.”
Joey sits bolt upright, hair sticking up on one side of his head at an awkward angle, and blinks owlishly. “Sorry, Ms. Pereira,” he says, digging his pen into his notebook for a lack of anything better to do.
“See that it doesn’t happen again,” the young woman says from the desk at the front of the room.
Dani just snickers under her breath, and Joey glares at her. The glare’s not that effective, however, because all Dani does is shake her head and shove her pencil into the dark brown puff of her ponytail. “Told you so,” she says, propping her history textbook up in front of her, as if creating a little barrier between herself and the teacher’s glare.
“I still need a nap,” Joey grumbles, crossing his arms in front of him and hugging himself tight in the hopes that it may wake him up a bit. Because even when the bell goes off he’s still got a little bit of time before his mother leaves work and spares him from taking the bus once more.
“Suck it up, buttercup.”
He could set her history book on fire in retaliation. Even though Joey knows his control isn’t worth spit at this point, he’s pretty sure he could do that much. But then Dani would punch him back, and that would hurt .
Yeah, not the best plan, Joey thinks with a grimace.
“You know, your dad kinda looks like Captain America in this picture here.”
“Huh?”
Dani’s brown eyes cut over to him, and she pushes the history text back a few inches so that Joey can see the pictures more easily.
“You’re crazy,” Joey says, frowning at the book. “And you can’t even see Captain America’s full face there.” The man in the picture is looking down, eyes trained on the ground in front of him. Even in black and white, however, there’s still a certain strength there in the figure that seems to leap off the page.
Dani shrugs, jabbing a finger at the picture. “They’ve got the same jaw.”
Joey squints, and leans in even closer. “How can you tell? The picture’s so tiny.”
“I dunno, there’s just something about him that really reminds me of your dad,” Dani says. “Maybe he’s, like, your great-great-grandpa and you never knew it.”
“I still don’t see it.”
“There’s got to be a better picture in here,” Dani mutters, flipping to the next page. “There’s a whole chapter in here about integrated units in World War Two, and the Howling Commandos was one of the most important ones.” Before she can go to the next page Joey’s hand darts out, pressing against the pages.
“Wait,” he mutters, stopping at another picture halfway down the page. It’s just as small as the other one, but it’s more of a close up shot, focusing clearly on the two men in it, looking battle weary and worn. One of them is Captain America, but that’s not who’s got Joey’s attention. It’s the man to Captain America’s left, busted and battered and still sturdily upright, that Joey’s focusing on. “Who’s that?”
“Bucky Barnes,” Dani replies. “He was pretty much Captain America’s second in command of the Howling Commandos.”
Joey pauses, just for a moment, then he blurts out, “Have you ever met my Uncle Jimmy?” Dani shakes her head. Joey leans down and grabs his phone out of his backpack, keying in the unlock code and flipping quickly over to the photos app. “Here.”
The photo is a few months out of date, from a hiking trip that past summer on Mount Washington, but it’s a good shot of both him and Uncle Jimmy, leaning against a tree with the older man’s arm wrapped around his shoulders. And even though Uncle Jimmy’s got a hat on to block the worst of the daylight out, his sunglasses are off and his face is clear for everyone to see. “Whoa,” Dani breathes.
“Yeah. Okay, now I’m a little freaked out.”
“Yup.” She nods at the book. “You know, his real name was James too. James Buchanan Barnes,” she reads off of the little descriptive tag beneath the image. Then she cuts her eyes across to Joey a little warily. “And Captain America’s actual name was Steven. Same as your dad. Who does kind of look like Captain America.”
“They’re common names though,” Joey says, even though the sudden nervous churning in the pit of his stomach says otherwise.
“Mr. Kirby, you are on extremely thin ice today, so put the phone away before I confiscate it,” Ms. Pereira calls out, making the two of them startle and practically jump upright.
Joey fumbles the phone and hastily drops it into his backpack. “Sorry Ms. Pereira!”
He and Dani are quiet for the next few moments. The book is open in front of them, and all Joey wants to do is cover up those pictures while he tries to make sense of things. Which he can’t, because he doesn’t even know what any of this means. And really, it could all be coincidence. It’s not the first, nor the last time that someone he knows has a doppelganger either halfway around the world or in a history book somewhere.
Yeah, and his tendency to light things on fire is because he keeps tripping over a lighter.
“We probably should look into this more, shouldn’t we?” Joey asks.
Dani nods, eyes wide and unblinking.
He taps his fingers a few times against his notebook, trying to figure out what to do next. They need time to do research, but they also need to not get caught. Joey’s pretty sure his parents already think he’s a bit crazy because of keeping the whole thing with their extra abilities secret; when they hear about this new idea of them having any sort of relation to a legendary hero? Yeah, he’ll either be committed or grounded until he’s 30. “Can you come over to mine after school? We can look stuff up there without getting busted, and you can meet Uncle Jimmy.”
“I thought you said your dad was cooking tonight,” Dani says with a frown, “and that you would do anything to get out of it.”
“Yeah, true, but I know we’ll get pizza instead because Mom will stop things as soon as the house starts smelling like boiled cabbage. Which they never mean to do, but it always happens,” Joey says, shrugging.
“You know I love pizza, even if the stuff you get up here ain’t anywhere near as good as the ones back in New York.”
Ms. Pereira clears her throat again, loudly enough that it carries over the class. Dani and Joey turn quickly back to their books, trying to look at least like they were working, even though neither one of their brains was really focused on schoolwork then and there.
As soon as the last bell rings the two hot foot it over to Darcy’s classroom (and isn’t that awkward, Joey knows, having to attend school in the same place where his mother’s a teacher. At least she’s not teaching any of his classes...this year) and commence with the begging to let Dani come over for dinner. Luckily it doesn’t take all that much convincing, and as soon as affirmative text messages are exchanged with Dani’s mother they’re pretty much in the clear. Then it’s just a matter of waiting for Joey’s dad to come by and pick them up.
In the car, Joey steadfastly ignores the pointed look Dani gives him as she waves a hand at the back of his dad’s head and then taps a finger against the cover of her history text.
**********
Okay, so the research doesn’t happen immediately. The two of them take a little bit of time away from the homework and other seriousness to fool around on the Starktech VRS game console that Joey had received for his last birthday and which never fails to get a disgruntled look from his dad whenever he walks by it.
(Dad wasn’t a video game fan, apparently. Mom just rolled her eyes and told him to grow up. This was not a new argument in their household.)
Eventually Uncle Jimmy comes home with Sophie in tow, having picked her up from school on his way back from buying groceries for the infamous dinner that Joey’s still hoping will somehow get canceled before the cooking even begins. When Dani is introduced to him she smiles sweetly and is charming, which gets a sideways glance from Joey because it’s entirely unlike her usual blunt force object personality. But the blunt force comes back as soon as his Dad’s and Uncle’s backs are turned; the pointed look she throws Joey’s way is strong enough to make him fight back the urge to wince.
“Identical,” she whispers, nodding solemnly.
Joey sighs heavily, and nods back. “Time to get to work.”
**********
By the time the evening rolls around, Dani’s got a fresh list written out on her laptop, a small compilation of ideas and possibilities, trying to reconcile all of the information they’d come across in their research of the last few hours. The information itself is fairly conclusive. First on the list is the information about the legendary heroes from back in the day: the original Captain America, Steve Rogers, crashed the Valkyrie and was declared dead in 1945, revived in 2012, and then declared deceased again in 2016 in an incident that was still mostly classified fifteen years later. The information on Bucky Barnes is even more definitive: died on a mission with Captain America and the Howling Commandos in late 1944. Just about every respectable and legitimate website backs this information up easily.
The next part of the list consists of the information culled from any number of the conspiracy theory websites that they came across in their searching, which is more than enough to get Joey’s eyebrows crawling up towards his hairline in disbelief. A popular theory is that Cap was actually created as a part of a Nazi plot to overthrow the U.S through comic books. One web page says that there has been a series of different Captain Americas, all built from the same perfect genetic profile, acting as government sanctioned super soldiers since the 1950s, while another says that the serum that turned Steve Rogers into Captain America was actually based from alien DNA. Which made Captain America part alien, which they’re not sure is better or worse. Another one says that Cap didn’t really crash the plane, but was put into cold storage next to Walt Disney’s head to be revived again when the country needed him most. Which apparently was also aliens. There are numerous pages of Captain America sightings throughout the twentieth century, from people who were claiming to have spotted him in a Burger King in Kentucky or some place like that, right alongside all of those Elvis isn’t dead sightings (which were kind of correct, even though being frozen in an iceberg for nearly seventy years doesn’t quite have the same ring to it). Then there’s the statement on a particularly out of date webpage full of flashing graphics that hurt Joey’s eyes saying that Cap was a robot sent back from the future to kill Hitler. And according to another website, Captain America was actually a woman.
Bucky Barnes isn’t quite as popular with the conspiracy pages. Even though, technically, he was classified as M.I.A. rather than officially declared dead (no one ever found his body, they learn), there are only a scant handful of sightings centered around the Middle East in the 1980s. And beyond the theory that the teenage actor who played Bucky Barnes on the Saturday morning ‘Kid America and the Howlers,’ show was actually a reincarnated version of the original one, his internet imprint is woefully sparse.
Honestly, Joey isn’t sure what to believe anymore.
The third part of the list is the compilation of the best theories that he and Dani could come up with after their few hours of research (in between minimizing the browser page every time either Dad or Sophie walked into the room). It reads thusly:
- Government clones
- Illuminati
- Secret great-grandfather
- Reincarnation??
- Undercover operatives who had plastic surgery to look like old-timey heroes
- Alien replacements of actual humans
“I think the aliens may be pushing it,” Dani says, frowning. “Though you can act like an alien sometimes.”
“Hey,” he protests, even though there’s no real irritation in the words. “And probably.” Joey shrugs. “They’re all insane ideas.” He leans back against the couch, chewing on the end of a pen as he stares hard at the computer screen. “I think we’re missing something, though. But I don’t know what.”
“We could try the library this Saturday.” Dani flips over to another browser tab, pulling up the page for the local library in town. It’s a small one, but if they tried to get the parents to take them to the bigger one in the nearest city it’d result in a lot of questions they didn’t want to answer. “We could tell our parents we have a history project to work on. Technically, that’s not lying.”
Joey’s about to nod his agreement, but then he groans, squeezing his eyes shut and tipping his head back against the couch. “I can’t. Sophie’s Christmas concert is this weekend and it’s a family event. Which means I HAVE to go because Mom and Dad won’t let me stay home with Frankie.”
Said dog, who’s sprawled out in front of the fireplace letting the flames carefully bake her hide, lifts up her head at the sound of her name and whuffs quietly in their direction.
“Boo,” Dani calls out. “Guess I’m just gonna have to research on my own.”
“You’d do that?”
“Course,” she says, nodding firmly. “I like a good mystery. And it’s better than cleaning my room. Dad’s coming up from the city so Mom’s trying to get the house all neat. Which won’t happen, but she’s gonna make us clean anyway. Ugh.”
(Joey’s never asked why exactly Dani and her mother live up here in the Massachusetts backwoods while her father stayed behind in New York City. From everything she’s said her parents are still together, just living 200 miles apart. He figures she’ll share the story when she wants to, but in the meantime, they both understand the importance of secrets.)
Joey goes silent for a moment, chewing on his pen hard enough to crack the plastic cap and making him spit it out onto the coffee table. “Am I crazy for thinking that there’s actually something real with all of this stuff? Like, am I just seeing things because my dad and my uncle kinda look like these guys?”
“You are crazy,” Dani fires back quickly, making Joey shoot her a disgruntled look. “But even I’m creeped out by the resemblance. So not that crazy.”
Before Joey can say anything else Sophie comes thundering into the room, making Dani scramble to close down the browser screen and the file with the list. It’s not really necessary though, as Sophie blows right past them and drops to her knees next to Frankie, who rolls over onto her back. The dog’s tongue lolls out of her mouth in a doggie grin as Sophie starts rubbing at her belly. “Whatcha doing?” Sophie asks, finally noticing her brother and Dani.
“Homework.” Technically. Okay, no actual homework has been done, but their teachers didn’t exactly load them down with assignments given that the kids’ brains have pretty much already gone on holiday break, even though classes won’t technically end until Tuesday of the following week. Joey knows full well he can half-ass the assignments in the morning if he wakes up early enough, so he’s not exactly panicking. “Shouldn’t you go do yours too?”
“I am alllll done,” Sophie says, bending down to rub at Frankie’s nose with her own. “Now it’s TV time. Dad said I could,” she finishes, sticking her tongue out at Joey, secure in the knowledge that she’ll be able to decide what they’re watching instead of her big brother.
“Great,” he mutters.
Suddenly Dani’s head whips around from side to side, her nose in the air sniffing hard, and the look on her face is one of barely disguised horror. “What is that??”
Joey claps a hand over his nose, attempting to protect it, while Sophie rolls her eyes, grimacing. “Dad and Uncle Jimmy started making dinner,” she says.
“Oh, no way,” Joey mutters, scrambling to his feet and heading straight into the kitchen. The only redeeming fact about the smell that’s begun to drift through the lower floor of the house is that he knows that Mom will take one whiff of it as soon as she walks through the door, and then reach for the pizza place number that’s on speed dial.
The kitchen doesn’t quite look like a disaster area, but there are cutting boards, knives, and groceries spread out across the counters. Ben is tucked away in his high chair, whacking a chilled teething toy against the attached tray with one hand while shoving the other one into his mouth and sucking on his fingers, fully ignoring the noise coming from the adults in the room. A couple of pots bubble merrily away on the stove. It’s clear that the smell is emanating from those pots, though the two men in the room don’t seem to be at all bothered by it. “I thought we were gonna do pizza tonight,” Joey calls out, resisting the urge to cover his nose with his sleeve.
“I told your mother we were going to cook,” Dad says, hovering over the pots with a wooden spoon in one hand and a potholder in the other. “We’ve got this covered.”
“It smells like something died in here,” Joey fires back, grimacing.
“It’s not that bad,” Uncle Jimmy calls out from where he’s forearm deep in soap suds at the sink. “It’ll be good when it’s done.”
Joey just shakes his head with a wince. “No it won’t.”
“Have some faith,” Uncle Jimmy says, sending a smile in Joey’s direction.
Joey’s eyes trail over to the stove, and a wicked idea comes into his head. “If you want, I can take care of that for you,” he says. Concentrating hard, he feels that unique sense of power surge up inside him, a feeling he’s been getting used to over the last few months. He squeezes his eyes shut briefly, and then when he opens them again a small jet of flame erupts on the handle of one of the pots.
Much to his dismay, his Dad all but leaps onto the flame, whacking it out of existence with the potholder in his hand. Then he turns a slightly dismayed and entirely disgruntled glare at Joey, who just grins innocently. “Don’t even think about it,” Dad says, when Joey shrugs nonchalantly.
“I had to try.”
When his mother comes into the kitchen only a few seconds after that, she pauses in the doorway leading from the garage and takes in the sight before her. It’s hard for Joey not to giggle at his dad and his uncle freezing up and turning almost identical puppy-dog eyes on her. Warily, she walks over to the stove, taking a brief detour to run a hand over Ben’s downy blond head and making the baby giggle. She lifts the lid off of one of the pots, leaning back when some steam almost catches her in the eyes. “Well, it could be worse,” Mom says. “We can salvage most of this, and we’ll have chicken soup this weekend.” She looks up at Dad, eyebrows arching high above her glasses. “But that cabbage is going in the bin outside before it stinks up the whole house.”
“It’s still edible,” Dad points out, giving her a glare right back.
“Yeah, and it smells like your gym socks when you forget them in the laundry basket for a week.”
Both Uncle Jimmy and Joey fight back the snickers at that one.
Mom stretches up and gives Dad a kiss on the cheek, which makes Joey feel all sorts of awkward (even though he knows that he’s a lot luckier than most that his parents still love each other enough to show off that casual sort of affection that easily). “Thank you for trying,” Mom says, grinning up at him. She then pulls a menu out of a nearby drawer, and tosses it at Joey. “Why don’t you, Dani, and Soph go pick out what you want for dinner.”
“Sweet,” Joey says, taking the menu and running back to the living room.
**********
“Now I could make a comment about you being whipped,” Bucky says, smirking. Steve just raises an eyebrow and tosses a dishtowel right at his face, which Bucky snatches out of the air, then turns to start drying some of the pots on the drainboard.
Darcy shakes her head, leaning against the counter and crossing her arms over her chest with a smile that’s just on the right side of evil. “Don’t think that you’re getting out of this free and clear, Bucky.”
“Oh, really?”
“Uh-huh. You’re going to do me a big favor tomorrow night.”
Bucky gives Darcy a sideways glance as he puts some silverware away. “And what favor would that be?”
The look on Darcy’s face is enough to make Steve a bit worried for his best friend. Sometimes the woman he married could be scarier than any horde of attacking aliens.
“Yup. The kids have been wanting to go shopping for Christmas presents for everyone. Tomorrow night’s the perfect time for that. You can take them out to dinner too while you’re there. They’ll love it.”
Steve bites back a laugh at the sudden, wide-eyed, combination of dismay and worry that’s taken over Bucky’s face. “No,” Bucky says.
“Oh yes.” Darcy’s grin gets even wider. “They want to buy presents for us. It’s probably best that we’re not there for it.”
“That’s...cruel and unusual punishment.”
“So’s the smell of that damn cabbage.”
Steve sidles over to Darcy, wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her close. “So does that mean we’re going to have the house all to ourselves tomorrow night?”
(And the last time that had happened they’d ended up with Ben nine months later...oops.)
Darcy purses her lips, turning that arch look Steve’s way. “Oh, you’re gonna be on gift-wrapping duty tomorrow night.”
His arm falls away from her waist and he grimaces, ignoring the snickers coming from Bucky’s direction. “I thought you ordered them pre-wrapped?”
“Not all of them.” She pats Steve on the back none too gently, making him roll his eyes in response. “Get your scissors ready.”