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Darcy returned from her trip to see Peggy feeling resolved. She'd be damned if she was going to let Peggy Carter down. Of course, that didn't mean she was quite ready to pick through everything in her head. Eventually she'd have to, and she knew it, accepted it, and was perfectly fine with that. So long as that happened at a later time. Like, in a week or something. Maybe.
There were also other things to do besides mope and grieve and whatever else was going on in her head. Jane was still set for London, and there was a ton of crap to do to get ready. Though, Jane was nice enough to delay their departure until the end of the month, giving Darcy time to sort herself out and giving Tony time to stop being super clingy. Because Jane was awesome like that. Oh, she'd nudge, but she'd also recognize that Darcy just needed to get her head straight. Jane knew her well enough to be patient; it would all come out eventually. Besides, she seemed grateful to Darcy; having been warned by her former intern's keen spy senses that Hydra was afoot, she'd been able to get out of the way of the mysterious light. But then she also seemed to feel a little guilty that Darcy hadn't escaped. Which was ridiculous and Darcy told her so.
When she wasn't helping Jane, Darcy was avoiding almost everybody else by hiding in her office at the Tower. Well, okay, she wasn't exactly hiding, she was working on the logistics for the new New York base, what they needed, when they needed it, and grimacing through a handful of lectures from Fury about running a facility. And she spent her days surrounded by files and rule books, and even history books, picking apart the pieces of SHIELD, to chart where it all went wrong. And to, hopefully, start it back on the path towards being an agency worth being proud of. An agency that would live up to its charter to be the SHIELD to protect.
"You can't just burn the Index," Maria Hill said with a roll of her eyes.
"Yes, I can," Darcy countered and she grasped her Sharpie more firmly and drew thick, black lines across the document in front of her. "Look at that. Burned! Figuratively."
Hill gave her a flat look and sipped at her coffee. Darcy still hadn't made herself agree to go to coffee with the former Deputy Director, but Hill didn't bother waiting and brought the coffee to her. Twenty minutes earlier the other woman had come into Darcy's office unannounced, dropped a latte on the desk next to the SHIELD handbook, then made herself comfortable on the couch.
"And what do you do with those people?" Maria prodded with a snort.
"Containing criminals is not the same as indexing people with abilities, particularly if it's through no fault of their own, and they haven't, you know, done anything wrong," Darcy said and moved on to the next line. She'd never forgive Gonzales calling Skye a monster. Though, she was sorry the dude was dead; he didn't deserve that.
Darcy continued with a scowl, "For God's sake, you've got Steve on the index."
"It's threat assessment."
"It's stupid. There has to be a better way. And I know I didn't put this in here," Darcy grumbled.
Maria frowned. "What?"
"Nothing," Darcy waved the thought off like shooing a fly. "But, ten bucks says this was an add-on from the Hydra part of SHIELD. It feels sleazy enough."
"Look, with this whole Inhumans situation—"
"La la la," Darcy sang, and drew another line through something else that reeked of Hydra.
Who in the absolute fuck had designed the protocols for the Fridge? Just as well the place went up in smoke. On the surface the Fridge was for containment of exceptionally dangerous persons, but there were loopholes a mile wide and some creepy vague words that suggested human testing. Yeah, she could smell the Hydra of it a mile off. Though, honestly, SHIELD was compromised enough that she supposed it didn't have to be directly Hydra for things to start heading down ugly roads. All the more reason to root that crap out now. SHIELD picked up some bad habits along the way.
"Mature," Maria shot back. "I feel safer already."
Darcy pointed the Sharpie at Hill and glared. "Are you helping or are you back-seat directoring?"
"You're not the Director."
"I didn't say I was," Darcy replied evenly. "But, if I'm going to go to Phil and say 'hey, things have to change', I should have that all squared away, yes?"
Maria narrowed her eyes and considered Darcy closely. As always Darcy couldn't get even a hint of read on what the ex-Deputy Director saw. "So you bumped your head and suddenly you're hot to restructure SHIELD?"
"A lot can happen in eight seconds," Darcy muttered. "And, anyway, I was on this track before. It's not that sudden. Feel free to blame Fury and his 'you've got a duty' speech. I was all inspired and shit."
"What did happen in those eight seconds?" Maria asked. "Stark's right, you were gone from the security footage. The fog got thick, you were still visible, and then you weren't. It was weird."
"Weird is one word for it," Darcy said absently, scanning her eyes down the list she'd made of SHIELD items she wanted to work on. Talk of those eight seconds gave her a strange, itching feeling at the back of her skull. Squinting, she snatched up the book of SHIELD's regs and flipped to the section about partners. "Oh, that son of a bitch."
Maria sighed and took another long pull of her coffee. "What did Hydra do now?"
"Not Hydra." Darcy pressed her lips together, trying to be irritated, but she ended up laughing instead. She'd never noticed it before, or at least, hadn't paid any attention to it, but the clause governing the relationships between partners was sub-titled 'The Lewis Clause'. Oh Howard, you just had to? Well, okay, irritating as that was, she had to keep it in now.
"Are you going to tell me?"
Darcy closed the book, leaned her elbows on the desk and considered Hill in return. Fury said to play nice. Natasha liked her. And, well, Peggy said 'be bold.' "Why are you here?"
"Coffee." Maria smirked and raised her cup at Darcy.
"Mm-hm. Okay. Thanks for the coffee."
"This is a nice office," Maria nodded at the wide space with its fashionable furniture and tasteful potted plants and art. Darcy hadn't designed the space. And actually, she hadn't known she had an office until after SHIELD collapsed and her father tossed it off one day, like 'hey why don't you use your office instead of taking up the kitchen table with that crap'. "It's bigger than mine. And you got a corner."
"I know a guy," Darcy said blandly. "But, hey, if you really like it, I'm willing to swap."
"Nah, keep it. I'm closer to the stairs."
Darcy snorted a laugh and raised her latte in salute. Paranoid spies gonna paranoid.
"Relax," Maria said, "I'm just curious what you're thinking about SHIELD. If you're gung-ho to fix things, I want to know how. You can't blame me."
"I don't," Darcy admitted. "For what it's worth, I'm not planning to stage a coup or anything. I've just … you know, I've just got things to sort through. I'll run it by you when I feel closer."
"Okay," Maria said, accepting that for the moment. "How's it coming with the New York HQ?"
Darcy groaned and grumped. "Still need a location. Got anything?"
Maria thought about it before offering, "There's a decommissioned National Guard facility on Long Island."
Making a face, Darcy shook her head. "I've been told it needs to be closer to Manhattan."
"Then you've got a space issue."
"Don't I know it." She let out a long breath and rubbed at her forehead. There was no deadline for this base, but she was feeling a crunch. As her father pointed out, if she didn't do it somebody else would, and right now she wasn't feeling warm and fuzzy and full of trust. Sure, she trusted Phil, but she didn't trust all the nasty black secrets in a fallen SHIELD. When there's a void, somebody will come along to fill it.
"Who do you have in mind as commander?" Maria asked. Darcy appreciated the extreme effort the other woman was going to trying and make their impromptu coffee date as easy-going and conversational as possible. There was a still a little edge of command in her voice, but she was making a damned fine effort at disguising it.
"I don't know. You feeling it?"
"No," Maria said before Darcy even got the whole question out. "Not even a little bit. Besides, since you've decided to run off and play spy, I've got my hands full with your super idiots."
"They are not my super idiots," Darcy pointed out with a pout. "Well, one of them is mine, and the rest are all yours."
Maria snorted and stood to walk over to the windows. "You could run it."
"You can't possibly, honestly believe that," Darcy said, incredulity making her laugh.
She smirked. "No, I don't. You've been an agent for, what, not even three years? Active in the field for less than six months. You've got the logistics skills to build the base, you've been a decent handler, but you need more experience."
Darcy grinned back at her. "Keep me honest, Hill."
"Do you disagree?" she asked with a sharply raised eyebrow.
"Nope. Tell Fury all that would you? I'd love if he got off my case about it."
Maria made a sour face and took a sip of her coffee. "The operating theory with you is that you just quote 'need a push'."
"Well, Jesus," Darcy said on a long, harsh breath. "That's a big damned push."
"Agreed."
Leaning back in her chair, Darcy stared at the papers strewn over her desk, then she craned her neck to follow Maria's gaze out the window. "What do you think of Bobbi Morse?"
"Morse? Huh." Maria looked back at her and gave her a nod that had a smidgen of respect in it. "She'd be good. Unfortunately she comes with her own idiot. What about Carter?"
Darcy felt a jolt at the name, then shook it off. Sharon, not Peggy. "I don't know her that well. How married is she to the CIA?"
"I'm not sure. I do know her, though; I could reach out."
"Okay," Darcy said with a shrug. Well, why not? Peggy said they might need each other. "I'll talk to Bobbi, too, when I get a chance."
"I've got another agent," Maria continued, tapping her finger on the lip of her paper cup. "Guillermo Harris. I don't know what Coulson's doing with him now, but he's good. Not for commander, I don't think he'd want it anyway, but he's strong tactically and with personnel management. His partner's pretty good, too. A sharp analyst. I'll get you their files."
"Thanks. Considering the only full-time agent I have is me, load me up. Or load Morse or Carter up. Or, you know, whoever."
Maria nodded and turned to lean her hip against the window. "So what happened in those eight seconds?"
Darcy laughed. Hill's gifts did not include subtlty. "That's funny. I like that."
"You'll have to turn in a real report to Phil eventually. I'll find out," Maria told her with a bland, matter-of-fact shrug.
"And I hope you enjoy it as much as I did," Darcy said with a roll of her eyes.
She was saved from further questioning by the ringing of her desk phone. "Lewis."
"Darcy? It's Veronica Garvey-Carmine."
"Veronica." Darcy sat forward in her seat, surprised. Veronica Garvey-Carmine was her lawyer. Her personal lawyer. Her father, Leo Garvey, had been Darcy's lawyer when she was a kid, and when he passed away Veronica took over. Mostly Veronica managed Darcy's trust and oversaw any Stark Industries contracts that involved or would impact the Stark heir (not many), so a phone call from her was relatively rare. "What's up?"
"Are you free to come down to the office? Nothing's wrong," the woman hurried to assure her, "but it's the funniest thing, your name came up on my calendar this week. I'm supposed to call you today."
"Funny how?" Darcy asked suspiciously, narrowing her eyes at her pen holder.
"It looks like my dad put this on the books when you were born. I'd rather talk in person, if you don't mind."
"Sure, that's fine. I can come down now."
"There's no rush. I'll be here until six; I'm free for you at any time."
"See you soon." Darcy hung up the phone and frowned. It wasn't even ten in the morning, and Veronica was a busy lady of the big city, high-powered attorney-type. If she was clearing her day for Darcy, that was significant. And weird.
"Veronica?" Maria prompted, because Maria Hill was a damned snoop.
"My lawyer," Darcy murmured, putting away her papers into a locked filing cabinet.
"Don't you have a million lawyers?"
Darcy sighed and gave her an impatient look. "Stark Industries has a million lawyers, and then there are like twenty family lawyers, I don't know, I don't keep track. But the Garveys have been my personal lawyers since I was born."
Bowing her head, Maria tried to stifle a laugh, but she gave up almost immediately and laughed out loud. "Of course you had a lawyer when you were a baby. Christ, Starks."
Darcy fired finger guns at her and said, "Guess who you work for?"
Still laughing, Maria pushed off the window and gave Darcy a smug look on her way out the door. "Sure, boss."
***
At the legal offices of Garvey, Hoffstein, and Corey, Darcy was ushered into a plush waiting room and set upon by a pack of cheerful assistants. After turning down an espresso for the third time, Veronica rescued her.
Well, rescued her only to bring her into a morning spent wondering if she was going to have to find a way to go back in time again to murder her grandfather. He left her a bequest, of course he did. And Peggy had warned her. She had a horrible, creeping suspicion that it was more than the box of keepsakes she'd asked him to keep for her.
On the surface it seemed simple enough — a letter. Darcy held it in her hands, and stared; it couldn't have been more than a page or two by its thickness, but it felt bigger than that. What did he have to say across the years? But, that wasn't the end of her bequest, because of course not, this was Howard. Veronica then handed her a heavy manilla envelope with the deed to a property in Queens and the paperwork for the attached maintenance and management fund.
"The instructions with the bequest said it was to be delivered to Howard's oldest granddaughter today," Veronica concluded with a frown. "Is there something special about today? Not that it's important, but I've just been chewing on this since Monday."
"Not as far as I know," Darcy said. Except she did know. As of today she'd been back in 2015 for exactly two weeks. Something Howard had definitely known.
Tapping her fashionable but lethal nails against her lips, Veronica frowned in bafflement. She didn't linger on it, though, and they got down to the business of signing and transferring.
"Be sure to update your accountant," Veronica warned as she handed over the final documents to Darcy.
"Yep."
"Isn't it interesting that Howard specified his oldest granddaughter, instead of just generally his oldest grandchild?"
Darcy shrugged, offered what she hoped was a natural-looking smile, and tucked the letter and the packet into her bag. "Maybe it's a tiara collection?"
With a laugh, Veronica stood to walk Darcy out. "Somehow I wouldn't be surprised."
Darcy snorted a laugh and gave Veronica a hug good-bye, then with a wave at the assistant swarm, she hit the street. Pausing next to her car, she pulled out the envelope. On the front the words 'To my granddaughter' were scrawled in Howard's surprisingly fancy hand. Darcy stared at it for a moment, then slit the envelope open with her keys and pulled out two sheets of paper.
January 6th, 1948
My darling Darcy,
It's been a year since I saw you last. I've got to tell you, sweetheart, it's been no fun with you gone. No matter how many people are in the lab, it feels empty.
I found the Tesseract last summer. I'll put it someplace safe until you're ready to shoot it off to the moon. You never would tell me if I find Steve, but you know me, I'm going to keep looking. I have to bring him home.
"Jesus," she breathed and shoved the letter back in her bag. That was not something to read on the sidewalk. She still hadn't talked to Steve, and he'd been alternating between giving her steely looks and trying to talk to her gently. He clearly couldn't tell if he was supposed to be Cap or Steve in this situation. It wasn't his fault she wasn't ready to respond to either. Maybe she was a coward. Probably. No, no, her head felt less raw, but there was still a lot of stuff up there. One thing at a time. And, okay, maybe she'd moved Steve down the list, but she'd get to him. Soon. Ish.
Not today.
Looking up the street, the top of the Tower with its bright red 'A' was just visible. There were people in that building waiting, lurking, ready to pounce. And then there were all the people other than Clint. Not the place to read that letter, either.
Sliding into the car, she started it up then dialed the AC to arctic, because, holy crap this city sucked in the summer. It was almost eleven and the temperature was already 90. Being a southern California girl, 90 was nothing to Darcy, but the air was already at about 112% humidity. Yeah, sure, it was a pretty tired saying, but for real, at least in California it was a dry heat. Give her the desert any day.
As she and the car cooled off, she tapped a finger on the steering wheel and considered her options. A museum, find a quiet gallery and read her letter? The library, that standard logical reading place? Go to the diner, make Louise happy? Ouch, Louise.
The day after her trip to DC, Darcy called Bucky. She would have done it sooner, but Clint promised her Bucky was okay, he'd even gone to lunch with the man the day she woke up. That took some of the edge off her desperation to make sure her partner actually made it through the decades. Still, she did need to see him with her own eyes. The horror of the Winter Soldier hadn't entirely faded. There were a couple dreams — dark and bloody — that shook her awake. They were the sort of dreams that had her sitting up in her bed, wondering with disgust how something that ugly could come out of her own head.
When she called, Bucky readily agreed to go to breakfast with her and they met at the diner. Darcy went in with every intention of offering Peggy's apology and her own, but the words stuck in her throat. He'd given her such a hopeful look when he slid into the booth across from her, then she watched it fall off his face when she couldn't say anything worth anything. Louise hovered behind the counter, casting worried and agitated looks their way as their breakfast proceeded in awkward, stilted conversation and grinding silences. Darcy picked at her food and Bucky picked at his, which might have been what agitated Louise the most.
Thoughts of Bucky tugged her mind around back to 1946 and 2015 and the promises she made. While she dithered about Howard's bequest, there were things she could do, and her conversation with Hill reminded her she needed to move on another order of business. That almost clarifying thought in mind, she called the real estate agent Pepper found for the Stark Industries and Darcy Lewis Hasn't Come Up With A Name For Her Company's property development partnership. The partnership that would let them build and control the land housing the new SHIELD NY HQ.
Gloria Li was brash in that New Yorker way, and loud, but she was good at her job. She greeted Darcy with bright, almost frightening cheer — she'd zeroed in on a property in Williamsburg she thought was perfect, and it was a good thing Darcy called when she did because it was going to sell fast. Darcy groaned at the thought of how much property would cost in that part of Brooklyn. So much money. So very much. But, she agreed to meet Gloria at the site and pulled into mid-town traffic.
"Financing fell through," Gloria told her when Darcy climbed out of the car, waving to the construction fencing surrounding an open pit on one end of the half-block lot up against the bridge. "They'd cleared this end of the lot and just started the parking garage, you can see."
"Yep," Darcy said as she walked over, feeling breathless in the humidity. "Is it all the buildings on the lot?"
"Yeah, all vacant, too." Gloria spread her arms to take in the four other buildings at the far end. "They were going to redevelop the whole thing. Boom, it all came down. Metaphorically."
Darcy forced a smile and nodded. "The economy, what are you going to do?"
"Right. So, did you call James?"
With a small grimace, Darcy shook her head. "No, I was running errands when I called you and just came straight over."
"Okay, but you should call him soon. I've got a feeling this will go quick." She snapped her fingers. "The sooner you can make an offer, the better."
As much as Darcy'd like to get this part of building the base over with, it had only been a couple months, but add in her 3 and a half month sojourn to the past, and the whole process felt like it had been going on forever. At first glance, the size seemed decent. Huge. Ridiculous. She didn't even want to ask the price. But, really, it was hard to focus on the site in front of her, when her grandfather's letter was a heavy weight in her bag. It was the strangest thing; two pages, and it felt like it weighed 500 pounds.
"So, what do you think?"
Darcy shook herself out of her thoughts. "Do you have the keys to any of those buildings? I wouldn't mind looking inside."
"Of course. I got them from the developer on the way over. Now, the one on the end there, the four-story, it's gutted, has some framing up, but they don't recommend going in. No power, anyway. Same with the middle brownstone there." Gloria turned her pointing finger on another building on the side street. It was a large but dilapidated-looking white two-story that might have been a warehouse store or a small factory of some sort. "That one has fire damage, condemned, it was scheduled to be torn down. But the apartment building on the other corner, they hadn't gotten to that one yet."
Darcy looked over at the ugly, yellow, four-story brick building that wrapped around the corner, up one side and down the other. "Zoning?"
"Commercial and residential," Gloria assured her, then nudged her arm and pointed to a shop front on the ground floor of the apartments. "That's a sweet little corner for that bar your guy wants."
Nodding, Darcy looked over the site and chewed on her lower lip. Well an empty city block — okay half-city block — was plenty of room to read quietly and brood if necessary. "Do you mind if I look around? And then see if James can come by? I don't want to hold you up, though. I can drop the keys back with you in a few hours."
"Sure thing," Gloria handed over the keys. "Do me a favor, though, stay away from the pit? It's a damned hazard."
"Don't worry. Mostly I want to look at the bar space."
"Let me tell you, it's fantastic," Gloria enthused with a broad hand gesture. "Great space, you'll love it. Take your time."
Darcy smiled at Gloria until she drove away, then let the smile fall with a sigh. She made an effort to pay attention to property, walking once around the block despite the heat, counting her steps, taking in the scale. It really wasn't bad. And with half the lot cleared and a dig already started, that was nice. Less for her to have to do. She came around to the apartment building. Looked like it was built in the sixties or seventies. Ugly, utilitarian, not the old brick of some of the surrounding buildings. But, she supposed that could be fixed. It was big enough that, hell, she could probably give an apartment to every remaining SHIELD agent.
Finding the keys to the grate over the store front Gloria pointed out for the bar, she opened it up and went in. It was dark and dingy, and had probably been a family diner of some sort. There were booth seats still built into the walls, though the vinyl was faded and cracked, gray-white tufts of padding oozing free. The dirty, cracked linoleum under her feet made a horrible crunching sound as she walked, chipped faux-wood paneling lined the walls, and the air smelled like fifty years of burnt food grease. No doubt, the place was a shithole. But, they'd be gutting it anyway. Gloria was right, it was a pretty nice space. A long rectangle that followed almost the full length of the building down one street. There was another shop front next door on the short side. They could expand, or, hey, room for Bucky's gym.
And yet again, the reminder of Bucky brought her attention back to the letter. With a sigh, she left the store, locked it up again, and circled the building to the residential entrance. She poked through the place for a little while. It was a little creepy to be walking through an empty apartment building, and eventually she found herself on the fourth floor, climbing through a window to the fire escape. It was the shady side of the building, like that mattered in the heat, but at least, out of the sun, the metal grating of the stairs didn't sear the flesh from her bones. And there was something peaceful about sitting out there above the street.
Yeah, she should call Bucky, have him come by and look at the place, and then pour her heart out and beg his forgiveness. And then she should bring down Tony and Pepper, too. It was a good lot to consider and run the numbers on and all that jazz.
Letting out a long breath, pushing the sweaty hair back off her forehead, she reached for her bag and finally pulled out the letter again. And then she just stared at it. Come on, Lewis, what the hell is your deal? Forcing herself to open the folded papers, she started to read again, but stopped at the same place as before. Why was this so stupidly hard? Darcy leaned forward with her elbows on her knees and put her forehead on the palm of one hand, letting the letter flap listlessly from the other. She had to deal with this, she had to, she had to start to process, she had to make it through, and ignoring this, dragging this out, was only making it harder.
The little pep talk failed and she stared at her feet.
She couldn't say what it was that told her he was standing there. Maybe she heard a scuffle on the stiff, gross, ancient carpet of the hallway. Maybe it was a change in air flow. Who knew. Rolling her head to one side, she quirked a little smile.
"I'm a coward, Bucky," she said.
"Bullshit," he muttered and climbed out the window onto the fire escape with her.
"Did you track my phone?" she asked, feeling amused. Somehow it had become a silent agreement between them; phone stalking as a means of checking in on each other. They limited it to needful times, and it was non-intrusive and infrequent enough that she could hardly be annoyed he was standing there now.
"Yes," he said simply and leaned against the wall. "Steve keeps calling me."
Curious, she raised an eyebrow at him. "Do you ever answer?"
He chuckled a little and nodded. "I do. It's getting better. I, uh, you know, I miss him."
"He misses the hell out of you, too."
"Yeah. I went with them to track down the agents that attacked the building."
"I know, Clint told me." And told her Bucky almost killed one of those dudes. Frankly, unsurprising. Maybe what was surprising was that he hadn't killed him. Maybe he let himself be stopped. That was really good, actually.
"Clint seems like an okay guy," Bucky said.
"Yep."
Bucky sighed and gave her a long, intense look. "What do you think you're being a coward about? That paper?"
"It's a letter," she said, glancing down at the pages going soft in the damp air and her sweaty palm. "I can't read it. I get to the second paragraph and can't make it past."
He nodded slowly. "Who's it from?"
"Howard."
He squinted at her and thought for a second. "He sent you a letter?"
"I got it today." She sat up and gave him a rueful smile. "Two weeks after the attack. Exactly."
Stepping forward, he nudged her over a little and sat on the metal step next to her. It was a tight fit, and the railing on the other side dug into her hip, but he felt so real and solid she didn't want to move. "Okay, what's that mean?"
Darcy bit her upper lip and looked down at the pages. "It means my world's a damn surreal place."
Bucky laughed and bumped her shoulder with his. "Well, you've got yourself a nearly hundred-year old assassin for a partner. Yeah, I'd guess it is."
"You're looking pretty good for a centenarian, Barnes," she said with a little laugh of her own.
"I know." He smirked at her then jerked his chin at the letter. "You want me to read it? Then you can't chicken out half-way."
"No, thanks. I should do it myself, you know? Just suck it up and deal and—"
"That's why you've got a partner, doll. You don't have to do everything yourself." He shifted a little on the stair and leaned forward to look down at the passing traffic on the street below. "Steve says you're quiet. And you're never quiet. So something's eating at you. I know you now, I know how you get. If you need to take time, that's fine, I get it."
"Doesn't seem fair to make you read it in a letter because I'm too big a coward to say," Darcy mumbled.
"Stop calling yourself a coward," he growled.
Darcy sucked in a long breath of sticky air, then blew it out slowly. "I left you in 1946."
Bucky laughed again. "No, you didn't."
"Yes, I did."
He turned his head to look at her and narrowed his eyes. "Let me read the letter, doll. If you're not going to, let me do it. If there's something in there that makes you think you left me, I want to see it."
Twitching her mouth back and forth as she thought, as she wondered exactly what the letter would reveal, she glanced up at the sliver of murky blue sky above them. There were no answers there. If she left him, then he had a right to know. She shoved the letter at him.
Taking it from her, he smoothed open the pages on his knee and started to read out loud. "January 6th, 1948. My darling Darcy,." He paused and looked back at her. "I thought he died before you were born."
"He did."
Bucky's eyes dropped back to the letter and he nodded. "Your pops thought that's what happened. Nobody believed him, but he's a smart guy."
"He is, but it's kind of an unbelievable thing, really," she said, giving him a crooked smile.
He ran a thumb along the curled edge of a page and was silent for a moment before he began reading again.
January 6th, 1948
My darling Darcy,
It's been a year since I saw you last. I've got to tell you, sweetheart, it's been no fun with you gone. No matter how many people are in the lab, it feels empty.
I found the Tesseract last summer. I'll put it someplace safe until you're ready to shoot it off to the moon. You never would tell me if I find Steve, but you know me, I'm going to keep looking. I have to bring him home.
I'm not a man who's ever been much for praying, but I'll tell you, I prayed as well as I know how that you got home safely. I don't suppose I'll ever know if you did. I hope I do, but the way you'd look at me sometimes, I think I don't get to be around for you. So, I've just got to believe, with two of us on the job, that we licked it, and you're back home with my son, your friends, and your soldier. I'll leave all my research from your visit in the box accompanying this letter. If I don't manage it, would you figure out what the heck happened for me?
There were a lot of things I wanted to say to you before you left, but I didn't know how. You deserve to hear them, however.
Knowing I'm going to be a father someday is pretty daunting, I don't mind admitting. Knowing I'm going to be a grandfather someday still makes me feel old. But, I don't regret knowing any of it. I don't know who my son is going to be, but he had a hand in raising a brilliant and fearless woman; I'm proud of him already.
Nothing could have prepared me for meeting you or for how much I'd love you. I've never fallen harder. You took my breath away. I miss you, my beautiful, brave and bold girl. I'm proud of you. And I'm proud that the agency Peggy and I will build is in your hands. You're a damn fine agent, and I know, when it's your time, you'll be a damn fine Director. I'll sleep well at night knowing that. I hope I'm able to build you a decent legacy. I'll try, for you and for my son.
Do one more thing for me, though, sweetheart. I don't know exactly how much you were holding onto — all those things you wanted to say and couldn't — but, I could see them tearing you apart. It took more strength to face the past than I think I would have had, and I'm proud of you for that, too. But, those next forty-two years until you're born, and the twenty years until you're grown up, leave those years to me, all right? Whatever happens between now and then is my responsibility, not yours.
By my count you can start feeling responsible for things around 2011 if you feel like you have to. But not one single year before that. I know we had our philosophical disagreements on the subject, but I really have to insist on this. Listen to your grandpa. You take care of tomorrow and I'll take care of today.
Now, go hug your father and tell him we both love him. Go kiss that soldier of yours. Go live a good life, and know that I'll always be grateful for the time we did have together. I could own the whole world and it wouldn't ever be worth near as much.
All My Love,
'Grandpa' HowardP.S. I'll add some things to the box from time to time. Maybe some of them will be useful, or maybe they'll just be a curiosities from another age. I'll leave that for you to decide.—HS
Darcy's chin started quivering halfway through the letter and she had to clench her jaw tightly to get through it. Nope, no way she would have been able to read that all the way through in one go. She'd have been sitting on the fire escape all damned day if Bucky hadn't turned up.
"1947, huh?" he commented, his voice mild, with small touch of worry to it.
"1946, actually," she said when she thought her voice would be steady enough "September 19th to December 28th."
"Aww, doll," he muttered quietly.
"So," she continued, swallowing down the knot of guilt. "I left you and I left Steve."
"Knock it off," Bucky grumbled and shuffled through the letter, his eyes scanning over it one more time, before folding it and handing it back to her. "Wasn't on you to fix all that."
"I knew where Steve was," Darcy pressed, picking at the wound. "I could have told Howard, he would have found him."
"Come on," he groaned. "You can't know what would happen. I don't know about this time stuff, but even I can see that would change things."
"Could have been better," she mumbled.
"Could have been worse," he shot back.
"God, Bucky, how am I going to tell him, though?" she asked, or she pleaded. "I looked Peggy in the eyes and let her believe he was dead."
"What did she say when you saw her? Did she remember?"
"Yeah. She …" Darcy's voice caught and she had to clear her throat a couple times. "She said she understood. She forgave me."
"Steve will, too."
"I don't know," she said, her voice faint as her doubts grew. She stole so much from him.
"I do," he said firmly. "And you didn't leave me, you didn't even know where I was."
Darcy felt a tight burn of anxiety build in her chest as she remembered that dark night in Queens. "I saw you."
Bucky went still next to her, rigid and cold. His voice was low and harsh when he spoke. "What?"
"Hydra stole something, we had to get it back so I could come home." Darcy paused and had to lick her dry lips before she could continue. "There was a warehouse in Queens. We raided the place, got the box, but on the way out, you ambushed me and Peggy."
He jerked to his feet, the fire escape rattling with the force of his movement, and he stepped to the edge of the landing, bracing his hands on the rail. "Did I hurt you?"
"No, Bucky," she promised him quietly. "You hit Peggy pretty hard, but it was just bruised ribs, she was fine."
Turning away from the railing he gave her a look of such desperate despair that her resolve not to cry over all this anymore started to crack. She grimaced and looked away from him. "You're telling me the truth? I didn't hurt you?"
"I swear, Bucky. I said your name. You froze," she told him. "Your douchey little handler kept screaming at you to kill us, but you didn't move."
He narrowed his eyes as he thought, or as he tried to remember. She couldn't tell which. "You just said my name?"
"I said it a few times, and your full name, and I mentioned Steve. I kind of panicked, it was the only thing I could think of. Well, plus I shot your handler. Just in the arm, I didn't kill him. Which is too bad, really," she said with a considered shrug. Bucky's face lightened a little and he smiled. "And you didn't move at all. I grabbed Peggy and we ran. You never touched me, I promise you."
Closing his eyes, he drew in a long breath, his shoulders rising and falling with it. "Thank Christ." When he opened his eyes he stepped back over to the stairs and sat down. "Listen to me, Darcy. I could have killed you, and then you'd never have gotten home, right?"
"Yeah," she admitted.
"You couldn't have found me after that. There's nothing you could have done except get yourself killed," he said, his voice low and intense, with a rough edge of some of his own panic at their meeting. "I didn't need you to save me in 1946. I needed you in 2014. And I need you today, and so does your pops, and so does Steve, and a whole lot of other people."
Bowing her head, Darcy propped her elbows on her knees and her forehead on her hand again. "It was hard to be there. To know Steve was in the ice, that you were with Hydra, and I couldn't tell anybody. It was really hard. Holy shit, I'm tired of feeling worn out about this."
"Then stop it. Hey, let me help. Partners, right? You've helped me through a lot of my stuff, it's my turn." He slid his arm around her shoulder and tugged her closer. "Let's not tell Steve I hit his girl, though, huh?"
Darcy snorted and moved to rest her head on his shoulder. "Man, Peggy was pretty pissed at me for not warning her about the Winter Soldier. I told her not to go after you, too. But she looked for you for all of these years." Darcy sat up straight at the reminder of Peggy, pulling away from him. "Oh, hey, she wanted me to apologize to you."
Bucky frowned, baffled by that notion. "For what?"
"For leaving you—"
"What is it with you dames?" his loud exclamation cutting her off. He dropped his head back on his shoulders and stared up at the sky. His face was a picture of exasperation. Darcy had to laugh.
"For leaving you when you fell off the train," she continued, finishing the sentence he'd interrupted. "They sent a search party. She thinks if they'd just kept looking. I told her you wouldn't blame her, but she wanted me to apologize."
"That's stupid," he grunted.
"Yeah, well, there you go. She told me to tell you in 1946 and she told me to tell you when I saw her last week." Darcy sighed and gently batted the back of her hand against his arm. "She wants to see you. I didn't make her any promises, though. But, maybe you could go with Steve next time he visits her."
He let out a non-committal grunt and lowered his head back down. "I don't know."
"I figured, like I said, I didn't make her any promises. But, I did promise to apologize for her, so I've done that. And I'm sorry, too, Bucky."
"Aw, doll, really, stop it. I can't imagine how hard it was for you to be back there. Let's make a deal, huh?" He lowered his head to look in her eyes. "You try and accept Hydra having me wasn't your fault, and I'll try and accept it wasn't mine, either."
Offering him a small smile, she nodded. "Okay. Oh, and I had Peggy look in on your sister. Just, you know, see if she needed anything. She was fine back there. I just …," she trailed off and huffed, flustered by the strangeness of it all. "It's weird, like I'm talking about another place instead of 69 years ago, but I felt like I ought to."
"Thank you, Darce," he said, his voice deep and sincere. "Really, thank you."
"You're welcome."
He smiled back. "So, must have been nice to spend time with your granddad, huh?"
"Yeah, it was," she told him. "And getting to know Peggy. And Mr. Jarvis. Oh, Mr. Jarvis. He was the best."
"Like that AI of yours?"
"Yeah, that's who dad based our Jarvis off of." She laughed a little. "It was kind of awesome to have a Jarvis on both sides."
"I'm glad you weren't alone."
"I met all your Howling Commando pals, too," she told him, smiling fondly at that. "Howard called them in to help with the Hydra crap. They were good guys."
"Yeah, they were," he said quietly. "Fuckin' lot of trouble, too. Then Steve got himself experimented on and jumped in and it was … damn they were a handful."
Darcy threw her head back and laughed, really laughed. She felt lighter for it. It was maybe not so bad to share some memories with him. And she could tell him, tell him that hard as it was, life went on, and they were all okay after he 'died'. "They remembered you fondly, too."
"They'd better," he said with a scowl, but there was no hard edge to it. It was the scowl of a guy remembering his team of troublemakers and how much they meant to him. "Least they could do after all the shit I had to deal with was look after my girl."
That sent a warm flush across her cheeks that had nothing to do with the heat. "Oh, I'm your girl now?"
"Damn right." He gave her a crooked smile.
She wasn't sure entirely what to do with that yet. She wouldn't deny it. For three and a half months everybody knew him as 'her soldier' after all. But, really, one thing at a time. She changed the subject. "Remind me to tell you how I knocked Morita on his ass. You'll like that story."
He barked a laugh. "Did you really?"
"Mm-hm. He was very impressed."
"He'd better have been," Bucky said with a sniff. "You gonna tell me all about it?"
"Yeah, all of it. I've been putting it off, kind of," she admitted with a wince. "But, honest to God, that trip was hell on my head. For a week it was just this insane mishmash of memories and shit. Like a train wreck in my head."
"You're feeling better, though, right?" he asked, his brow creasing in concern.
"Yeah, it's calmed down. Seeing Peggy helped. Then I've just been untangling it this week. And, don't take this wrong, but I think I owe it to my dad to talk to him first."
"Good, you should," he agreed. "Okay. So, can I ask? What the hell are we doing here?" He waved a hand at the building next to them.
She snorted and scrunched her nose up at him. "I called Gloria after I left the lawyer's with Howard's letter. This just came on the market. The whole block."
"Huh," he said thoughtfully and stood up to look over the railing and down the block.
"There's a great space on the ground floor here for your bar."
He tossed her a smirk. "Yeah? I'm gonna get my bar?"
"You've been whining about it for months. Will it shut you up?" She bounced her eyebrows at him, teasing and amused.
"I don't whine," he growled and looked back down the street.
"No, of course not." She leaned back on her elbows. Her ass was kind of going numb on the unforgiving metal stairs, but she felt unburdened and wasn't ready to leave the bubble of that relief. "God, I need a vacation."
He turned around and leaned back against the rail. "Yeah?"
"Do you know next week it'll be a year?" she asked. He gave her a puzzled frown. "Since SHIELD fell. And then we met two days later."
Rubbing at his forehead, he thought for a moment and then nodded. "Hell of a year," he said, but then he smiled. "Some good with the bad, though, huh?"
"Definitely," she agreed. "But, a week after that, I'm going to London with Jane."
"Oh, right," he said, his smile falling a little.
"You could come."
He shrugged and looked away from her. "I don't think your Doctor Foster would—"
"Oh no," she cut him off. "You are specifically invited by Jane. She keeps asking if you're coming."
"How long?"
"A month or two. I've got to find her a new assistant. But, we've also got all that base crap on our plate, so it can't be long." She glanced up at him, at the discomfort in his expression. "You don't have to come for the whole time. Maybe you could visit for a week or something."
"I could do that." His frown cleared and he grinned at her. "You still owe me a dance."
"Just name the time and place, Barnes."
"Okay, good. Now I gotta look up clubs in London, though," he muttered and pulled his phone out of his pocket.
Laughing, she finally stood and headed for the window. "Come on, soldier, let's check this place out. Gloria was really sure this is going to sell fast."
"Yeah, alright. I wanna look at the bar space."
"Of course you do."
"And," he said as he climbed through the window after her. "There's part of your granddad's letter that's bugging me."
She cast a look at him over her shoulder and frowned. "What's that?"
"Well, you not listening to him about worrying about those years that aren't yours, for one."
Rolling her eyes at him, she walked down the hall to the stairwell. "And?"
"And, you not listening to him when he said you oughta kiss your soldier. I assume that means me," he said modestly, but then his voice turned dark with suspicion, "unless you got another soldier on the side. You're not kissing Steve, are you?"
"No, I'm not kissing Steve," she snapped and shot him a glare, but he was smirking at her, his eyes bright with mirth. "Jerk."
"So, you gonna listen to your granddad or what?" he pressed, a laugh in his voice.
Darcy stopped abruptly, turned on him and leaned forward on her toes to press a loud, smacking kiss to his bristly cheek. "There. Done."
"I don't think that's what he meant," Bucky grumped.
"Then he should have been more specific," Darcy tossed back at him and started down the stairs. "You want to see your future bar space, or you want to pout?"
"I don't pout," he protested. "I just think you really oughta respect your granddad's wishes."
"Shut up, Bucky," she said and, though she tried not to, she ended up laughing the whole way to the bar.