voices of the past.

James rubbed his fairly new vibranium arm as he walked down the street, making his was towards his and Steve’s old apartment. She had to be there, though it was a long shot. He wasn’t sure how long it’d been since Rosalyn had received a letter from him. He hoped not much time had passed and he would be able to see her. Waking up from his frozen state, she had been the first one that came to mind. She’d always been in the back of his mind no matter what state he was in. Now that James had practically cured himself of the Hydra thanks to the people of Wakanda, he could safely go find Rosie and meet her. He knew that he should be seeing his best friend before anything else, but odds were that eventually Steve would find him. James eventually came up to the apartment building, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly as he made his way up to his old apartnent. Not much had changed since the last time he’s been here. He cleared his throat as he came up to the door, trying to listen to see if there was any movement before knocking. He felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest from how nervous he was. James chuckled at himself, shaking his head. He was being ridiculous.

---

Charlotte held her breath and tried to be as quiet as possible while a bunch of thugs went by. She knew that they weren’t just any thugs though, they were special ones with special powers. At least that’s what she liked to assume. Charlotte was trying to get a lead on this story for her new section in the newspaper, which was mainly about Captain America. She knew that if she went where the danger was, then that’s where he’d be. Of course there was always that small risk that she could get herself killed and Captain American wouldn’t show up to save the day. She carefully left her little hiding spot, quietly following those thugs. She hid behind a pole, furrowing her brow as she watched the dreaded scene unfold in front of her. One of the thugs stepped up to a man on his knees, saying something she couldn’t hear before cutting his head off. Charlotte gasped and covered her mouth, stepping back. She was about to make a run for it when the thugs noticed that she was there. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to puke or scream. There was blood splattered on both of their clothes and faces from the man who’s head they had just cut off. It was a gruesome sight. “Wrong place at the wrong time, sweetheart?” One of them purred, making Charlotte’s skin crawl. She kept backing up away from them before one was at her side in an instant, grabbing her arms, from behind her. The other poke poked her cheek with his bloody sword, making her grimace. “Who actually carried a sword anymore,” she grumbled, obviously on the verge of pissing them off.

Two years. Two whole years since the letters stopped appearing in Rosalyn Gallagher's apartment. There was no amount of time that could keep her from thinking that there might be a new one waiting for her on the table next to where she kept her keys. A lot had happened in those two years. The collapse of the Triskelion in DC. The exposure of most of SHIELD and Hydra's private files on the internet. Captain America becoming a fugitive of the law. Supposed terrorists attacks involving the Winter Soldier aka James Buchanan Barnes. The same James she had exchanged letters with for several months despite the fact that he was living in a different time period entirely. The same James who had been best friends with Steve Rogers since childhood. The same James who had supposedly been KIA during World War II. The same James whose words remained engrained in her head permanently because of how many times she had read over the letters he'd sent her. Despite all of this, life continued on. The world didn't stop because the letters had. Rosalyn got a teaching job in Williamsburg. She broke things off with her ex-fiance. She devoted most of her time to her first graders each year. Her mother continued to try to convince her to settle down with someone, but Rosalyn wouldn't do it, because, whether she cared to admit it or not, she was in love with a ghost. And when she walked to her door and peered through the peephole and saw said ghost standing on the other side, she was certain that she was seeing things. When she opened the door, she was at a loss for words at first. "Hi..." She said slowly. "Is this--are you real?"

---

Time passed differently in hiding than it did out of it. Days felt like weeks and weeks felt like months and so on and so fourth. Steve really didn't know how much time had passed since everything had gone down with Tony in Siberia. He didn't know how long it had been since he left Bucky in Wakanda with the assurance from T'Challa that his best friend would be safe and that the king's sister would try her hardest to get rid of all of Hydra's programming. All he knew was that it felt nice to be back in New York. Maybe it wasn't his smartest decision being that Ross would likely send agents there to look for him first, but it was a big city, and there were millions of other people living there. Looking for him there would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. That was what he was hoping would be the case anyway. So far it had held true, and he hoped it continued. Although Steve laid low for the most part, there were some instances in which he stepped out, usually at night, to help beat down any low-lives that he could. Maybe doing so in broad daylight wasn't a good idea, but neither was pulling a sword in the middle of the day in broad daylight either. He didn't know why he was surprised at first, but when he saw her, it was the last place he expected her to be. Charlotte Burchella had been writing stories for one of the local papers for a few years now about him, and since his return to New York, Steve had run into her more times than he could count on both hands. Each time, he was saving her from some sort of bad guy, and each time he ended up taking her back to her apartment where she insisted on patching him up, and he told her that she couldn't tell anyone that she'd seen him. And each time she wrote an article about him, an "anonymous source" had tipped her off. "Son, I'd step back from the lady if I were you."

Waiting patiently for the door to open, James stared down at his hands. Finally, though, the door opened up and a beautiful young woman was standing there before him. He was certain that it was his Rosalyn. James smiled big as he looked her over, nodding. "I'm real. Well, most of me anyways," he said with a small laugh as he knocked on his vibranium arm. "Can I come in?" he asked her softly, hoping she would say yes. He wanted to come inside and sit down with her, catch up and make sure everything was going okay. When she let him in, he took in his surroundings, biting his lower lip. Not much about the place had changed, that was for sure. Just the furniture. "How have you been, Rosalyn?" he asked her. All James really wanted to do was take her in his arms and hold her close. He'd been longing for that since they first started exchanging letters. "I just want to apologize first for just disappearing and stopping the letters. I, uh, got into a little bit of a mix-up," he said with a small chuckle, rubbing the back of his head. James had no idea how much she knew or if she'd seen Steve, so he didn't want to reveal too much of what he went through just yet. "Have you seen Steve at all? I hear he's pretty famous around here, even though the law currently wants him." James picked up a photo on the nearby table that was under a pair of keys, biting his lower lip as he studied it. It was a picture of him and Steve from a very long time ago that he had sent Rosalyn. He was always sending her pictures, at least the pictures that he could send her. He had tried to make her a part of his life as much as possible through those letters, even if she couldn't be there.

---

Charlotte could feel the sword digging into her cheek a little, causing some blood to spill. This would be the moment where Captain America decides to show up and rescue her. At least she hoped he did. Too much of her surprise, she heard a voice coming from her side, making her side in relief. "Thank god," she breathed, gasping when the one holding her back pushed her way and the sword cut pretty deep into her cheek. "What the hell, you asshole!" she yelled, holding her cheek. That was gonna leave a mark for sure. "Who the hell are you?" the one that had been holding her asked, then the man with the sword hit him. "Who the hell do you think that is? Just imagine him with a Captain America uniform," the swordsman said, pointing his sword at Steve. Charlotte had to make sure that she was taking this all in, getting as much detail as she could so she could write her story. Not only were this guys going to get their ass kicked and pay for what they did, but they graciously got to get their asses handed to them by the one and only Captain America. She tried to crawl somewhere safe, even though the only place away from these guys was over by that dead, headless body. Charlotte groaned and stood up, looking around for somewhere else to go. She grimaced as the fighting started, not being able to tear her eyes away from it. She absorbed every detail of everything that was going on. "Watch out!" she cried, seeing the guy with the sword lunge at Steve. Thankfully though he only seemed to cut him, not stab. Maybe this time he'd actually take up on her offer of coming into her apartment and patching him up. There was no way he was going to be able to take care of that wound by himself.

Rosalyn couldn't believe it. It really was him. He was really there, standing in front of her. He was real. Someone hadn't been pulling her chain with all of those letters. She didn't know how they would have pulled something like that off, it would have been pretty damn creepy if someone were sneaking into her apartment to leave those letters addressed to her, but there had always been a part of her waiting for Ashton Kutcher to come out of the closet and people with hidden cameras to come out from different parts of her apartment. That never happened though, and clearly she wasn't being punk'd this entire time, because there he was. Her James. He was real, and he was standing mere inches away from her, and all she wanted to do was jump into his arms, but she refrained from doing so. They might have established a connection of sorts through their letters, but she didn't know where they stood now. Some definite boundaries needed to be set at some point in the near future. She let out a small laugh when he knocked on his arm, the metal one. It was sleek, and different from the one she'd seen in the footage from DC. "Of course, please do." She stepped aside so he could come into the apartment. "Has it changed much in seventy something years?" She asked curiously, noticing that he was glancing around and seemingly just taking everything in. "I've been alright, been keeping busy actually. I'm responsible for enriching the minds of twenty-seven six year olds now, so that occupies most of my time." Her lower lip caught between her teeth as she took a moment to really take in his appearance. His hair was long, and it looked like it would be soft to the touch. Wherever he'd been since everything went down with Tony Stark had done him some real good. "You don't need to apologize, James--or do you prefer Bucky? I know what happened. I haven't seen Steve since the accords were signed, but he filled me in. I know why you disappeared."

---

Steve didn't know why it was always her. He didn't understand how one person could find themselves in trouble like this consistently, though he knew that he didn't have much room to talk. Back in the day, Bucky was always getting him out of scraps down different alleyways or in parking lots and behind dumpsters. He supposed that this was how Bucky had felt back then. It was frustrating to say the least, and he really wished that Charlotte would learn to not seek out danger at every corner, but something told him that would never happen. She was always looking for a new story, and sometimes that got her into situations like this one, although he really didn't know how one found themselves involved in a scrap with a couple of thugs carrying around swords. He really wasn't all that surprised by their weapon choice. He'd seen more surprising things since he came out of the ice. In a city like New York, nothing was ever too surprising, and that was without including alien invasions and gods on the list. "I asked nicely the first time, I'm not gonna ask again. Step away from the woman, and I won't have to hurt you." He said, eyeing up the men and surveying the situation at hand. He sighed and threw his bag down when one of them knocked Charlotte's cheek with their weapon. That was definitely going to leave a mark. "I said I wasn't gonna ask again." Was all he said before springing into action.

James shook his head as she asked if the apartment had changed much. "Not much, really. Just a few things here and there, plus the furniture. You've just given it your touch," he told her with a grin. James ran a hand through his hair, taking his lower lip between his teeth as he listened to her. He was so fascinated by what she did for a living. He always knew that she had so much ambition and strived to do good in her life. She deserved the best, that was for sure. "You're teaching kids now? That's great. I hope they're well behaved for you." James frowned a bit as Rosalyn went over some events, clearing his throat. He was happy that she didn't hold anything against him because he still felt absolutely horrible for leaving her in the dark like that. He had thought about her almost every day. "That's my best friend, standing for what he believes in," he murmured, looking down at his feet. James hated that Steve was practically a wanted criminal since all he ever did was save people and try to do his best. Although James would give anything to see him right now, he knew that eventually, Steve would find him. "I'm really glad he filled you in though. Also, Bucky is totally fine," he told her with a nod and a smile. The more he stared at her, the more he wanted to take her into his arms and hold her tight. He wasn't sure if she liked him any less now that she saw his metal arm. Most women would probably find it extremely unattractive, or at least women from his decade would have. Although, metal arms were exactly a thing back then anyway. "So... Can I hug you?" he asked her, wanting to be at least somewhat cautious. James didn't want to just randomly pull her in for a hug and then it be awkward if she hadn't wanted it.

---

Charlotte hid over in the corner, watching the scene unfold in front of her. She knew that this man had to be getting tired of saving her ass every time he turned around. She felt bad, really she did. But what was a girl to do when she had to get an amazing story? She was a reporter, after all, sometimes she just had to put herself in the line of danger to get that perfect cover story. Charlotte watched Steve fight, amazed at how quickly he had knocked the two out. It was like they hadn't even stood a chance against him. Well honestly they didn't, he was Captain America after all. "Thank you," she said softly, slowly standing up from where she had been sitting. "You know, you don't have to keep saving me like that. Even though I greatly appreciate it, I know it can be really annoying," she said with a nervous laugh. Charlotte began to bite her nails, a nervous habit that she had developed over the years. She slowly walked up to him, examining the wound he had gotten during the fight. "Will you let me patch this up for you this time?" she asked him, looking away from the wound and into his eyes. He always denied her help, no matter what it was. But she knew that he couldn't fix this one by himself, it was in an awkward position. At least she didn't think that he could, maybe he had a secret team somewhere that could help him with things like this. Charlotte felt like this was the least she could do for him since he was continuously saving her life. "Here," she said, reaching into her bag and pulling out a shirt. She always kept a spare change of clothes in her bag incase it started raining and she was trying to investigate for a story. "Hold this here." She folded the shirt and placed it on his wound, applying presssure. "This should help some."

Rosalyn's lips quirked up at the corners when he told her that the apartment hadn't changed all that much. She was always someone who believed in preserving history whenever she could, and while she hadn't known the history or significance behind her apartment when she first moved in, she had liked the old-fashioned, vintage flare present that the owners before her had left behind, and so she'd kept it as such, not even realizing that much of what they'd done with the place was preserve what had been there before them. "Would you believe me if I said they were all little angels?" She asked, letting out a small laugh. "Nah, they all really are great kids, some of them give me a hard time sometimes, but everyone has bad days, and no one's perfect so I don't hold it against them too often." She tried to be as understanding as she could be. She'd always been told that she was a very understanding and open-minded person, and that held true in her classroom as well. She was always trying to understand why people were the way that they were, and she always tried to give the benefit of the doubt when she could. "Yeah, Steve's great. I just wish that the government wasn't out to get him. I get why he did what he did. You're his best friend, of course he's going to stand by you." She really hated that just because Steve was sticking by his friend he was suddenly being made out to be some sort of a bad guy. He was the last person she'd ever consider as such. "Bucky." She repeated, letting the nickname roll off of her tongue. "It suits you. Not that James doesn't, but Bucky really does for some reason." Then he was asking if he could hug her, and without even thinking twice about it, or hesitating in the slightest, she closed the small distance that there had been between them and wrapped her arms around his muscular torso as she breathed him in, resting her cheek against his chest lightly. "You didn't need to ask." She murmured softly.

---

Steve wouldn't necessarily say that he was tired of saving her. That wasn't it at all. If she was in danger, and she needed saving, and he happened to continue running into her then he would do what he could to help. He was starting to think that he might need to teach her a little bit more self-defense though so she could hold her own against the thugs she seemed to keep running into in the city. He knew if he offered to do that though then he was going to have to see her outside of moments like this though, and he really was trying to keep that from happening. He didn't want her to be associated with him. He didn't want her getting roped into all of the drama and the mess that he presently found himself in. Anyone who associated themselves with him now was considered a criminal just as much as he was. "I wouldn't have to keep saving you if you didn't follow creeps like that around the city for a story." He said as he examined the wound on his chest. He wasn't annoyed that he seemed to keep ending up having this conversation with her. He was more frustrated than anything else because she was constantly putting herself in harm's way. "You really don't have to--" He started, watching as she reached into her bag for something, but she was already pressing what looked like a spare t-shirt to the wound on his chest before he could finish his sentence. "Would you believe me if I told you that I've had a lot worse?" He let out a dry chuckle as he thought back to the incident a few years back at the Triskelion in DC. The gunshot wounds he'd sustained because of Bucky had resulted in his hospitalization, so a stab wound and a few scratches and bruises wasn't really anything compared to that.