Emilia had figured that giving her sister some time to adjust to living in a dorm would be for the best. She also knew that by now her sister had ran into Charlie, and she wasn’t looking forward to having Etta yell at her. It wouldn’t be too bad as her sister would just be more mortified than anything. Leaving his arrival at the school as a surprise was just so much more interesting and authentic. “Before you yell at me!” She started as soon as the other girl opened the door. “You should know that I didn’t tell Charlie that you were going here either.”
“So is the competition extending to pie eating or what?” Andrew said, looking her up and down. “Not sure you can fit more than three slices of pie, no offense.”
Another day, another moment that Jace was on the verse of a major migraine and he hated it. He couldn’t focus and was extremely irritable. He’d turned around and yelled at two other academy goers who were thinking the most stupid things. They looked at him like he was crazy. So when Etta moved to sit near him he looked at her, “Whatever you do, just try not to thin.” He said with a sigh.
After Sam and Steve died things, obviously, got harder for Bucky and Etta. It was a strain on both of them emotionally, you know. Coming out of the battle, both bruised and bloody. They were okay. They were alive. But they couldn't find their friends. At least Bucky couldn't. Not at first. It wasn't until he heard Etta scream. Then he saw them. Both of their bodies, lying there. They hadn't died quickly, but after everything settled, the corpses were still worse for wear from the horrors of war.
Two hours after they died, Fury told them that he had married the two just before everything went down. His voice had lost it's usual sharp tone, but he was still brief with the news that would normally be happy. That was when Etta fell back against him and started sobbing. She'd already been crying, but that put the nail in the coffin (...a bad term to use).
The first week after they died, they hadn't even left each others' side unless absolutely necessary. Hand in hand, they went through the motions together. Filling out paperwork was done sitting beside one another in silence. Eating dinner whenever one of them would remember was done in silence. Neither of them really talked.
The second week after they died was when the funeral took place. There was too much to clean up after the battle to warrant a funeral straight after. So it took two weeks. That was alright with both of them, neither one of them wanted to go to their best friend's funeral. Like a lot of other things, they got dressed together. Both in black, both unable to remember the last time they smiled.
'IN REMEMBRANCE
STEVEN GRANT ROGERS
July 4, 1918 – March 9, 2016
a friend, a legend, captain america.
AND HIS WIFE
SAMANTHA DAWSON ROGERS
December 17, 1989 – March 9, 2016
a sister, a friend, nova. '
Some had wanted a huge grave marker for Steve. He was Captain America. A living legend among everyone who met him. But Bucky wouldn't let that happen. They were buried near his parents in a Brooklyn cemetery behind the old Catholic church that Sarah Rogers used to attend whenever she could. Etta had been asked when Samantha's birthday was. She couldn't give them an answer at first. Not until she remembered last December when Sam insisted that her birthday had to be close to Christmas.
In truth, Etta just figured that she wanted double the presents. The fact didn't make her roll her eyes in amusement like it had a few months ago.
The tenth week after they died, things had gone back to normal. Or, at least for everyone else they did. But Bucky and Etta were no longer attached at the hip. She went about her day, helping Wanda train, or pattering after Tony while he works away in his lab. He went on any mission that Fury and the others threw at him.
They should have leaned more on each other. But they didn't.
It wasn't a healthy way to deal with their grief, to deal with it separately.
They knew that.
Neither one of them wanted to let the other down. They needed to be strong.
The idiots.
The fourteenth week, Bucky got back from Europe after two weeks of being on a mission with Clint. The air around them wasn't awkward. It was never awkward, not even when they had just met. But it wasn't completely comfortable for either of them. They did their usual, she helped him unpack what little things he'd packed in the first place while he showered. They both cooked dinner, and then they sat on the couch with the television on, neither one of them really watching it. The time was spent with idle chat every once and a while when there was something to say.
It wasn't until late that night when they were both in bed curled up against each other that he said the thing they both needed at that moment.
“Hey,”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
A pause. “I know.”
Etta didn't say it back. Oh, he knew she still loved him of course. And she did. He was what kept her sane in the time after the battle.
But she hadn't said it back. And he couldn't help but feel that maybe– maybe this was when he really got the ending he deserved. She'd always told Bucky that he deserved a happy ending. He'd always laugh it off and tell Etta that she was a crazy romantic. It had been cute at the time.
But Bucky felt – no, he knew he was probably right.
Because she didn't say it back. Not since before the battle. Not for months. It was always a 'you too' or an 'I know' but never the words that she used to give out so freely before things went to hell around them.
It didn't matter at that moment, though. She was still there. If she would leave him, then she would. But until then, he just pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head. It was enough.
The twentieth week after they died, Etta finally decided to go on a mission. She had said she didn't care what for, or who with, so it ended up being a routine Hydra sweep with Bucky. Go in, kill the bad guys, get out, go home. Something simple. Something that didn't require too much build up because in all honesty – neither of them wanted to spend time waiting around.
The first day in Turkey had been spent with them both holed up in a gross pay by the hour motel. Water stains on the ceiling, suspicious brown stains on the carpet, and the sight of at least three different cockroaches from wherever you sat in the room – but it worked for laying low. The first day they went over the building plans on the edge of the city. At some point Etta looked up at him after he'd made a sarcastic comment, a small smirk on her face.
“Well, as far as dates go... you know this isn't my worst.” She'd bumped his shoulder with her own, and he couldn't help the smile that flitted across his face.
Working together was a good idea. It always was.
The second day in Turkey wasn't as productive as the first. But it wasn't bad. He'd gone out first to get food, and ended up scouting the building out from a distance. She'd known this, but it didn't really bother her. Maybe half a year ago she would have followed Bucky and fussed until she was tired of fussing. But instead she just picked up her phone and called him.
But his phone was shut off. Not a surprise.
“Hey, I figure you're out doing bad-ass stuff right now..” She laughed a little to herself, folding her legs up under her as she sat on the motel bed.
A voicemail would have to do.
The fourth day in Turkey, they both woke up with blurry eyes and throbbing heads. It hadn't been an in and out mission. One misstep is all it would have taken for it to go up in flames. Or one informant spilling the beans about two SHIELD agents sneaking around, in this case.
Etta wasn't sure who would kill that informant first. Hydra, or her and Bucky.
The fifth day in Turkey, they were both tired. They were still strapped down to chairs, both had mixtures of drugs floating in their bloodstreams to make them weaker as to not break out. It still hadn't made them less defiant when interrogated.
That's when Etta snapped, and gave a small, too calm smile to the man in charge. The man who was asking question after question. Silently, Bucky willed her to be quiet. He didn't care that he was glaring daggers at her, anything to get her to shut up.
“You want to know who stormed that bunker back in Prague?” It wasn't her. “Me and my team.” It was Bucky, Clint, and Wanda. “And no one was left alive.” That was the truth, at least. “And oh, I had fun with it. I watched as it burned to the ground, even when your people were screaming in there I still lit it up.”
And then she fell back into silence, looking pleased at the slight twitch that the man gave.
He stayed silent too.
She opened her mouth again.
Bucky was torn between glaring a hole into her, or into the interrogater.
“You're gonna burn too – this whole place? It'll be gone by nightfall, I can guarante–“
One shot came from the gun the man had pulled out of his jacket pocket, hitting Etta. The very last thing she remembered hearing was Bucky making a strangled shriek when he saw the gun, and she thought one thing to herself; thank god for my healing factor.
She still hadn't said 'I love you' back.
The fortieth week after Sam and Steve's death, Bucky stood in front of their graves. It was winter, now. He was bundled up, but was still chilled to the bone. Fucking New York weather. But he was still standing there. Waiting as patient as he could. He was always patient for her. Even when it came to being late.
Aggravated, he pulled out his phone and started to press a button when he finally heard the footsteps behind him. Turning, he frowned.
“You're late.”
“I'm here, aren't I?” Nick Fury's voice snapped back. The man was dressed similarly; but held a manila folder in his hands. When he stopped beside the former soldier, he handed it over.
“His name was Norbert Creel. He had a brother in that compound you, Barton, and Maximoff took out in June. Word is, he'd cut his ties to Hydra a week after the incident in Turkey. All he wanted was revenge.”
Bucky was barely listening, instead he flipped through the folder and only stopped when it came to an autopsy photograph. One he never wanted – or needed, really – to see.
“And the autopsy report?”
Nick didn't answer at first. But when he did, he didn't look at Bucky. Instead, his eyes were trained on the graves in front of them. “The drugs they gave her were a mixture of shit I don't care to pronounce. It weakened all of her abilities – especially her ability to heal.” The man rattled off, like he'd practiced saying it before hand.
Or maybe he'd just given that report so many times it rolled off naturally.
Bucky didn't care.
“Even if she wasn't pumped full of drugs, the shot directly to the heart still might have killed her. To our knowledge, she never tested her powers that far.” He paused, only then looking at Bucky, and ignoring the glossy shine in the man's eyes. “I'm sorry.”
An hour later, Bucky was still at the cemetery. He'd read over the file once, then again, and again, and one more time just for good measure. Digging in his pocket, he pulled out his phone again and pressed a button.
A bitter smile formed on his face when the message started playing.
“Hey, I figure you're out doing something bad-ass right now...” He could hear the chuckle in Etta's voice through the phone. “And just because you're off being a bad-ass doesn't give you the right to ditch me, mister. You're going to have hell to pay when you get back in this room.”
Then came Bucky's favorite part – or was it his least?
It varied from day to day.
“–Look, I know... I've been a bit of a shit lately. I really have no excuse. I mean, Sam died. Steve died. I fell apart and I know you did too but.. God, I'm the worst girlfriend ever.” He could hear rustling in the background. Still to this day, he couldn't decide what it was. Maybe she was pushing some papers off the bed? Or rummaging through the night stand's drawer that neither of them really wanted to touch? He had forever to figure it out.
Her voice broke his thoughts as she continued when the rustling stopped. “But that doesn't mean I don't want to be your girlfriend any more. I meant what I used to say, James.” Etta only really called him James when she was being serious. “You deserve a happy ending. Specifically with this crazy romantic broad.”
He held his breath.
“I love you too. So much.”
Long after the voicemail ended, he stood there. Then replayed it once, glaring down at the photograph of Creel before looking back up at the graves.
“See you guys later.” He half heartedly mumbled and walked away.
There beside the Rogers' grave stood a fresher one. One small marker with less words on it.
'IN LOVING MEMORY
LORETTA TREMAINE
Unknown – July 28, 2016'
Who’s more likely to find who wearing their clothes?
brock is literally The Worst about just tossing his dirty clothes on the floor. etta will not even touch his clothes unless there is a 100% guarantee that they’re clean. brock doesn’t care to wear etta’s things. tbh he doesn’t care for her to wear them either.
Who enunciates hand holding?
they’re not?? really the hand holding type???
Who likes having their hair washed by who?
tbh when they shower together, the last thing they’re thinking about is washing their hair.
Who likes to slow dance?
Neither of them would mind it, it just doesn’t happen
Muse that’s more likely to fall asleep with their head in the others lap?
Brock tbh. Whenever Etta has to get up she just kind of. Shoves him off. If he falls into the floor then oh well.
Muse that does all the cuddling in a blanket fort?
Neither.
Who hogs most of the covers at night?
Both of them tbh. There has been actual fights over stealing the blankets. He argues that she has to be warm enough. Her counter is that his ego can keep him warm.
Muse who nuzzles the others shoulder to get them to give them a head rub?
Brock.
How do they share a dessert? Two forks or one?
They get their own desserts tbh. Greedy fuckers.
Who gets jealous more easily?
Both of them holy shit, they’re petty enough to purposely try to make the other jealous, too. So it’s ten times worse.
Who gets angered more easily?
They both try to be even tempered adults. unfortunately, they both like to push each other’s buttons. a lot. so it’s a toss up.
How do they go to sleep at night?
Probably really late together, at different times, or one of them just won’t go to sleep at all.
Who gets the most shoulder rubs?
Etta does
What are there arguments/fights like? How often do they fight?
Considering they will fight about literally anything and everything, it can get pretty bad. It range from picking at each other, to small spats, to fucking world war three.
Who is more likely to throw things in fights?
Brock has actual scars from where Etta has just. up and thrown something at him. but to be fair, he throws things too. just not at her. she doesn’t grant him that mercy.
How do they make it up to each other/apologize after an argument?
Sex. But that happens in the middle of an argument sometimes and that’s just? a god damn mess. doesn’t fix everything but it’s satisfying at the time.
Do they have nicknames for each other?
Yeah, Etta calls him a fucking asshole and Brock calls her a god damn bitch. it’s very romantic. they love each other a lot.
Caring for each other while ill, how does the other muse go about it?
tbh i feel like??? brock will literally just want to lay there with etta when he’s sick? he doesn’t need anything he just wants to lay there. in quiet. with etta. he’s cold and she’s warm. but she’s also fidgety and not quiet. and he’s grumpy. it’s a mess. but when etta is sick, brock always miraculously manages to be away on a mission #oops
Who’s more likely to be patching the others wound?
brock asks her to kiss it better. etta calls him an idiot and puts more antiseptic on his wounds with a smile.
Muse that says ‘I told you so’, after they come home from the beach and other muse is burnt to a crisp while whining how bad it hurts for not listening and putting on sunblock after the other muse repeatedly told them they’d get burnt?
they are the King and Queen of I Told You So’s. no matter what scenario.
Your otp has a newborn baby, who gets up in the middle of the night when he/she cries?
please don’t let them reproduce
Your muse’s of the otp reaction to finding the others crying about something? And how do they make them feel better?
idk i feel like brock would just sit there with etta until she stopped or back out of the room slowly. it would probably never happen the other way around.
What would they be like as parents?
pLEASE DON’T LET THEM REPRODUCE
What would they have been like as childhood sweethearts?
lmao he’s fucking twenty years older than her i don’t think it would work even in au form.
Who enunciates taking a bath together?
brock tbh.
Who likes who playing with their hair?
brock knows her weakness. brock will utilize this weakness. come and lay on the couch with me baby, you’re not annoying me. next thing you know, he’s played with her hair for twenty minutes and she’s asleep.
The place they mostly likely accidentally fall asleep together?
honestly they both get really tired after having sex so. they’ve fallen asleep in some strange places.
Who’s more likely to find who wearing their clothes?
Bucky’s more likely to find Etta wearing his clothes for no particular reason other than the fact that she likes to see his reaction. It always renders him a little shocked at first, to come in and see her curled up in one of his shirts. But then he gets this little smile on his face and it’s just. the Most Adorable thing.
Who enunciates hand holding?
Etta does.
Who likes having their hair washed by who?
Bucky likes to have his hair washed by Etta, even though it’s slightly hilarious if they’re in the shower together because of the height difference. Afterwards his legs are always slightly cramped from having to crouch down slightly but it’s worth it.
Who likes to slow dance?
Both of them, but it’s a rare occurrence.
Muse that’s more likely to fall asleep with their head in the others lap?
If given the chance, Etta will 100% fall asleep on Bucky. Whether it’s her head in his lap, or on his shoulder, or even curled up on him. He’s the perfect pillow for when she crashes.
Muse that does all the cuddling in a blanket fort?
I really can’t see either of them building an honest to god blanket fort. But Etta will definitely pile on the blankets if they ever have a free night to just relax. And eventually Bucky has to push all of them off because of the fact that she’s pressed against his side and he’s slowly being over cooked.
Who hogs most of the covers at night?
Etta does
Muse who nuzzles the others shoulder to get them to give them a head rub?
100% Bucky tbh.
How do they share a desert? Two forks or one?
Even though Bucky swears up and down that he doesn’t want a desert, almost every time he always sneaks a few glances and steals a few bites with Etta’s fork. She doesn’t really mind, but she always teases him about it.
Who gets jealous more easily?
I can’t see either one of them getting too jealous. They’re not that type of couple? Plus, they keep close to each other in situations that might prompt jealousy.
Who gets angered more easily?
Etta.
How do they go to sleep at night?
Slowly or not at all. Not a lot of sleep goes on. ( take that as you will )
Who gets the most shoulder rubs?
Bucky.
What are there arguments/fights like? How often do they fight?
Not very often?? Mostly it’s a “you dumbass YOU COULD HAVE BEEN KILLED’ argument but it’s pretty rare
Who is more likely to throw things in fights?
Bucky.
How do they make it up to each other/apologize after an argument?
long stuttered apologies, some hugging, many bad jokes from Etta.
Do they have nicknames for each other?
I mean. Etta is the Queen of Bad Nicknames. And Bucky probably has a few pet names but nothing noteworthy
Caring for each other while ill, how does the other muse go about it?
Bucky tried to care for Etta when she was sick, once. He ended up with scorch marks on his metal arm that just wouldn’t fucking come off. She never apologized. But he’s the King of The Man Cold tbh.
Who’s more likely to be patching the others wound?
Etta will nag and complain the whole time while she patches Bucky up. Even when he says he doesn’t need it.
Muse that says ‘I told you so’, after they come home from the beach and other muse is burnt to a crisp while whining how bad it hurts for not listening and putting on sunblock after the other muse repeatedly told them they’d get burnt?
Neither.
Your otp has a newborn baby, who gets up in the middle of the night when he/she cries?
It depends on how tired the other one is, it’s fairly split.
Your muse’s of the otp reaction to finding the others crying about something? And how do they make them feel better?
Etta would be a little lost, and probably a little ?!?!!? because the girl can barely handle her own emotions, much less someone else’s. so she just. clings on and hopes physical comfort works. ( it does most of the time ) but Bucky just kind of fades out until she’s ready to be around someone. if she wants comfort, she’ll damn well come and get it.
What would they be like as parents?
so lost and confused. but not bad.
What would they have been like as childhood sweethearts?
fucking adorable tbh.
Who enunciates taking a bath together?
Etta probably does. Bucky takes it as an invitation for sex. ( it 99% of the time is tbh )
Who likes who playing with their hair?
Bucky likes to play with Etta’s hair. But she rarely lets him because one sure way to get her to fall the fuck to sleep is to do that and ‘god dammit Barnes I have things to do and you’re making me sleepy’
The place they mostly likely accidentally fall asleep together?
Actually, my name’s Etta. Or Jules, or Julietta, or whatever else you want to call me, and I live on a farm, not under a rock. Anyways, It’s nice to meet you. What should I know you from? You seem to think you have quite a reputation for someone I’ve never heard of before.
It was a joke, dear. Why do you have so many names? I mean, I can’t talk cuz Max is technically a nickname, but I digress. A farm is basically a really grassy and smelly rock isn’t it? It must be if the name doesn’t ring any bells. Ryder? Like. The hotels?
