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3pirouette · 3 months ago

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Fic: Winter's Children (1/1) (Part of the Nobody's Baby Universe)

Title: Winter’s Children

By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette

Disclaimer: They're not mine.

Distribution: Read HERE on AO3 Anyone else please ask first :)

Part SEVEN of the Nobody's Baby Universe (Click for all stories)

Story Summary: Mandy’s parentage is finally revealed. A story set over 3 decades, with a glimpse into the SHIELD legacy of the Rogers family.

Posted for Steggy Week 2024, Day 3, AU’s and Crossovers, because the Nobody’s Babu Universe is my personal favorite AU I’ve ever written for them.

A/N: So, the science in here is gonna sound a little more 90’s criminal drama than late 70’s… but we’re just going to pretend SHIELD was that far ahead, ok? Ok.

~*~

August 1955

The knock on the front door startled Steve, enough that his grip slipped and James’ foot kicked out, landing square in his dirty diaper and smearing the contents across the changing table. He groaned, and wrestled the one-year-old for control. “Mandy!” he called, “Can you see who is at the door?” He heard the patter of her feet run past the nursery and bound down the stairs as he tried to hold his son down and grab a cloth to clean him at the same time, the boy giggling away. The afterthought hit him quickly, “Don’t open it!”

He was on edge. He’d slept alone last night: Peggy was on a stakeout that was important enough to keep her hands twisting and her eye twitching all week. He felt nothing but dread at the sound of the door, but had little choice but to continue to try to fight his small son for control and rid him of his dirty diaper.

Mandy let out a happy squeal. “It’s Uncle Jarvis and Aunt Ana!” He heard her jump close to the stairs. “I can see that it’s just them from the front window. Can I let them in?”

Steve sighed. Even if he wanted her to wait, he was in no shape to go down there himself. Surely, at ten, she was old enough to know friends from strangers. James had managed to make a mess of the both of them, and he could sorely use another pair of hands. “Yes, please.”

He listened carefully to the happy greetings as he pulled another cloth from the changing table, shaking his head. “How did you do this, James? It’s everywhere!” The boy cooed at him, and Steve could only smile, despite the sinking feeling.

“Hello?” Jarvis called, his footfalls up the stairs soft and quiet.

“In the nursery!” Steve called back. It took only seconds for Jarvis to pop his head into the room. “You’re right on time, I’m in dire need of reinforcements.”

The butler’s eyes bulged wide. “Yes, quite so.” Without another word, Jarvis stepped in, grabbing a towel from the closet in the hall and wetting it, handing it to Steve. “How in the world did the young master manage that?”

Steve shook his head, wiping the smeared excrement from James’ legs. “I’m guessing it’s some combination of the strained peas and yogurt.” Steve got him clean enough for the moment, and hastily diapered him. “Definitely a bath tonight.” James giggled as Steve tucked him into a new romper. “Can you…” Steve pointed at the boy then back at his own filth covered arms.

“Oh, yes,” Jarvis nodded quickly and lifted James from the table, holding him as Steve took the wet towel and cleaned his own arms as well before tossing it aside with the diaper that needed to be cleaned. “Peg’s gonna kill me. Keeps saying I forgot how to change a diaper.”

Steve’s stomach dropped a bit at the way Jarvis’s face fell. His heart skipped a beat and he felt like his lungs were squeezed tight. “What happened?”

Jarvis sighed, ushering Steve to the bathroom and watching as he soaped up and down his arms in the sink. “I’m afraid Mrs. Rogers is quite stubborn.” Jarvis only tilted his head at the look of fake incredulity Steve shots him. “She got into quite the tussle last night, but declined any sort of interventions, despite the fact that three of her team are still in the hospital as we speak.

Steve’s head perked up. “Hospital?”

Jarvis held up a hand. “She fared much better, I’m happy to report. She’s at the mansion now, resting.” Steve pushed past the man, leaving him calling down the hall after him. “Despite protests, Ana and I felt it best you go see her. We’ll mind the children.”

He paused only to change his shirt, shove his boots on his feet, and drop a kiss on each of his children’s heads before he was racing out of the garage on his motorcycle.

The fifteen-minute drive felt like hours. He was seething in anger and scared as hell by the time he skidded to a stop at the front door. He marched up the stairs, ready to bang on the door, and quickly stumbled past it into the foyer when it was opened before he could even touch it.

He caught himself before he fell, hands on his knees. “I suppose I should thank them,” Peggy’s soft voice rang out, “but they did go behind my back.”

He stood and turned to her, his face falling when he saw the swelling that held one eye shut and the purple bruising around it. “Peg…”

Peggy ducked under his hand when he went to reach for her. “No, Steve. I don’t want to hear it. I’m fine.”

His mouth formed a tight line, his hands on his hips and the ire that had fled from him when he stumbled into the house rose back up. “Fine? You could have broken bones!” He took a deep breath and followed her when she closed the door and moved into one of the lounges. “Hell, you could have had brain damage.”

“You and I both know that with enough time I’ll be just fine.” She flopped onto a couch and reached out to the side table behind her, pulling a bag of ice back up over her bruise.

“Whatever you picked up from James is going away. You have to be more—”

“It was him,” she interrupted with a whisper. “The Winter Soldier.”

Her words halted the start of the familiar fight they’d been having and he sank down on the couch next to her. “You’re sure?”

“Metal arm and all,” she sighed out, moving the ice over her eye. “It’s how I got this. Stopped Thompson from getting two to the head, but caught his backhand.”

Steve sighed, lifting her feet into his lap and started running his hand over her shin. “That’s why you were so…”

“I suspected,” she answered the question he hadn’t asked. “I thought perhaps it would be him. I didn’t expect us to get so close, though.”

His head fell, his words soft. “I’m going with you next time.”

She sat up, ice falling to her lap, her own tone leaving no room for argument. “We’ve had this fight already, Steve. You or me. Never both.” She took a deep breath, the eye that wasn’t swollen shut clouding over, “I won’t risk those children living without the both of us, you hear me? Not after what I saw last night.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” he quickly mumbled, picking up the ice from her lap. “I just hate seeing you like this. Feeling helpless.” He held it up to her eye, waiting until she took it before moving his hand away. “I guess I’m not adjusting as quickly as I’d like.”

“To what?” she laughed lightly. “You went from being a super soldier, thwarting death at every turn, to a house husband that occasionally goes on missions while I galivant around the world as head of a secret intelligence agency.” She chuckled, the ice sloshing in the bag with her movement. “Sounds like it could be a real prime time smash comedy, eh?” She reached out for his hand and sighed happily when he took it, growing more serious. “I think it’s harder than either of us thought to make this happen. Especially now with James. Neither of us went back into the field until years after we got Mandy. This is all new, we may have to reassess.”

Steve nodded, but didn’t speak. After a long stretch of quiet he couldn’t hold the question inside. “What about the Winter Soldier?”

“He did some damage, that’s for sure.” She shook her head, the ice rattling in the bag, “All of us together there were six bullet wounds, a handful of broken ribs, a broken leg, and one ghastly eye. And he got his target, so we failed there.” She shook her head, pulling the ice off before sitting up. “It’s been three years since we’ve had a lead. He’s back in the wind for who knows how long.”

Steve let his hand ghost over her purpled jaw. “Did you see his face?”

She shook her head and leaned into his touch, wincing but pressing into his hand, anyway. “He wears some kind of mask, covers almost all of his face.” She chucked sadly. “I think I’ll need one of those.”

Steve shook his head, letting his thumb run over the darkest of the bruises under her eye. “You should have gone to the hospital.”

“And what?” Peggy leaned back, letting his hand fall to her shoulder. “How was I supposed to explain how quickly I was healing to them?” She pulled the ice back over her eye, a shiver running through her. “No, best to stay here, avoid scaring the children for a day or so.”

Steve’s lip quirked up. “You think the Jarvis’ would mind looking after the kids if I stayed a while?”

“Mind?” Peggy blew threw her teeth, then winced when the movement sent a shock up the side of her jaw. “Mr. Jarvis is so completely done with my antics that he stopped talking to me, and Ana hasn’t stopped talking to me about James since I arrived. I think that they’ll be disappointed if you don’t stay.”

Steve hummed happily, leaning over and pressing a kiss to Peggy’s hairline. “Well, then I’ll just have to stay for a bit.”

He held her for a long, quiet moment, the only sound in the large mansion the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall and the tinkling of the ice shifting with each breath Peggy took.

“I know… I know you can’t promise me anything,” Steve whispered, raking his fingers through her hair, “but just say you’ll try, ok?”

Her voice was soft, sensing the seriousness of his words. “Try what, my darling?”

“Try to be careful?” He asked, his voice breaking just slightly. “Try to stay safe. Try to come back.”

Peggy dropped the bag of ice, shifting in his arms to straddle his lap. She cradled his cheeks in her hands, eyes taking in the bags under his eyes, the tight strain at their corners, the way the muscles in his jaw twitched, all full of stress and fear. “The day…” She paused, took a deep breath, and started again, letting the emotion fuel her but not stop her, “The day I don’t come back to you or our children is the day that God himself has stopped me.” She caressed his cheek gently. “Nothing short of that would ever keep me away from you.”

Steve couldn’t keep the tears from forming in his eyes. “I know, Peg, but these people… the Winter Soldier…” He sighed, pressing his cheek against her good one, “The Devil works hard, Peg.”

She pressed a gentle kiss to the edge of his jaw by her lips. “Yes, my love, but I work harder.”

~*~

July 1971

The humid summer air of New Jersey gave Peggy migraines. Had she been able to stay in the SHIELD bunker, like she’d planned for the day, her temple wouldn’t be pounding, but she’d been required to be up on the surface a handful of times, and bouncing between hot and humid and the naturally chilly underground, she was nearly seeing double.

She slammed the file she was reading shut, looking up and finding Rose already opening the door. “Blissful, just the woman I wanted to see.” Peggy closed her eyes and sighed, the promise of home all the nearer. “I’m taking an early day, can you call a car for me?”

Rose, who was usually worried beyond measure that something was wrong or happy that Peggy was taking time for herself, was uncharacteristically neither. Instead, her eyes wrinkled and her mouth pinched shut. “I’m sorry, Director Carter, but I think you need to stay just a little bit longer today.”

Peggy ground her teeth tight, knowing Rose wouldn’t even utter those words unless she was sure it was something that needed her attention. “Please tell me it isn’t another ‘diplomatic misunderstanding’ between Howard and some female dignitary?”

Rose shook her head sharply, “No, but Doctor Mills would like to see you. He says it’s urgent.”

Peggy cleared her desk and nodded. “Very well, send him in.”

Franklin Mills was their top research and development scientist, and the only one of their team, aside from Howard and Pym, who had nearly top-level clearance. The man was quiet and reserved and never, ever, came up to Peggy’s office himself unless it was of the direst importance.

He slipped in quietly past Rose once she waved him in, his bald head glinting in the light as he looked at the floor. He was nervous, and that made Peggy worry. “Franklin, to what do I owe the pleasure?” She tried to keep her tone light as she folded her hands on her desk, but the man was nearly trembling before her.

“D-Director Carter,” he very rarely stuttered, and it sent Peggy’s heart pounding. “We’ve been working on extracting the DNA from the sample our team discovered at the attempted UN assassination.”

Peggy nodded, waiting as calmly as she could. It was a thwarted assassination attempt. The target, a dignitary from Germany, managed with only a punctured lung and was expected to recover fairly well. The assassin slipped through their fingers, leaving only a dime sized spot of blood and one agent in intensive care.

There were whispers that it was him: the Winter Soldier.

Publicly, she told her agents to focus on the concrete evidence and stop whispering rumors. Privately, she knew first hand that experiments to enhance soldiers hadn’t died with Erskine. Not only was Mandy proof, they’d raided three abandoned Red Room facilities after the war that remained classified.

The Winter Soldier: a man who had more speed, strength, and agility than any other save her husband, was a very real possibility, and she and Steve were determined to stop him.

She tried to smile to calm the man, but couldn’t. “I’m well aware. Have you found something?”

He slid a small handful of papers over to her. “I haven’t- These are the initial print outs. Nothing’s been saved and no one else has seen them, I swear.”

Peggy looked at the graphs, the numbers and words making little sense. She looked up, laying her hands on the pages. “Franklin, you know very well I have no idea what I’m looking at.”

He swallowed, hard. “We were able to get a viable sample, and we ran it through our database. I didn’t expect anything, because we don’t have a lot of people in there yet but…”

“But?” She was getting impatient now.

“The Wint—" he stopped himself and restarted, “The assassin and your daughter are a familial match. I ran them twice.” He threw up his hands, ranting quickly. “It- it doesn’t match Captain Rogers, either, I’m afraid to say. The assassin… or your daughter.”

Peggy’s hands spayed out over the data as she took a shaky breath. Mills was still stuttering before her and she stopped him by holding up her hand. “Sit, Franklin.”

She opened her mouth, looking the poor man in the eyes, then closed it again. She almost laughed at the absurdity of it all: the man thought he’d lose his job, or worse, for thinking he’d discovered that she’d been unfaithful. Mandy was an agent with SHIELD, had barely been in the organization long enough to be known all that well except it was well known that she was Peggy and Steve’s daughter. It had been a double-edged sword for the girl from day one, but she’d slowly and surely been proving herself to those around her.

It was the only reason Mandy’s DNA was in their ever-growing database.

She looked back up at him, face as plain as she could make it. “Remind me of your clearance level, Doctor Mills.”

He didn’t stutter, and she was proud of him for that. “One B, Ma’am.”

She nodded. “What I’m about to divulge is considered top level classified information, do you understand?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he nodded swiftly.

“If I hear anything about this, I will know it was you who let it out and I will see you prosecuted as per SHIELD’s regulations regarding classified information, is that clear?”

The man swallowed thickly, “Yes.”

She sighed, pulling open her drawer and taking out a small gilded double frame. She held it out to him. “Agent Rogers, Mandy… my daughter,” she tripped over her tongue a few times, the pounding in her skull and the pounding of her heart making it hard to focus, “was adopted. Captain Rogers and I, along with the Howling Commandos, found her in a HYDRA science base.”

The man’s eyes widened as she slid over the frame, opening it to reveal two of their earliest family pictures. The one on the left of the frame had been a picture Morita had gifted them with the first time he made it back from the front. He’d snapped it when they hadn’t been looking mere hours after they’d gotten back to the base. Peggy was holding a still tiny and unnamed Mandy tight in her arms, Steve, shield on his back, was standing across from them, and both were looking down at the baby in what could only be described as frightened wonder. The second had been posed, a picture Howard snapped the day the three of them moved into their house with Steve holding Mandy and with an arm around Peggy, standing on the front steps. Mills looked up then back to the pictures.

“It’s not quite as scandalous as you may have imagined, but I’m sure you can see why we don’t discuss it often.” Peggy pulled the pictures back and snapped the case shut, sliding it back in her desk drawer. “Mandy’s parentage has always been unknown to us, though we’ve had our suspicions along the way.”

“Is she…?” He didn’t finish, the question had slipped out and he covered his mouth with his hand.

She didn’t answer, but leaned forward, instead. “As your director, I’m asking you to keep this ‘eyes only’ and off the record. As your friend, I’m asking you to understand why.”

Mills nodded, still looking slightly confused and upset. He always was a bit squirrely about working for an agency that dealt in espionage. He expected to be told to do unethical things at every corner, and was always spoiling for a fight that wasn’t there. Sometimes, Peggy thought he didn’t realize that he was working for the good guys.

“Franklin,” Peggy sighed, pressing her fingers to the bridge of her nose, “I’m not asking you to destroy anything or hide anything. Keep the samples in there. Just, don’t tell anyone about the match, yes?”

Somewhat placated, the man nodded and stood. He reached out and shuffled his papers back into his hands. Peggy thought about keeping them for a moment, but knew Howard could pull up the information if she needed it, and Mills would feel much better if he left with it.

He slipped out the door, and she put her head in her hands.

She’d barely had time for a breath before the door opened again. “Your car is topside whenever you’re ready,” Rose whispered.

Peggy looked up, focus swimming at moving her head too quickly. “You are a godsend, Rose.” Peggy stood slowly, grabbing her purse and briefcase before moving towards the door. “What am I going to do when that shoulder of yours heals and you’re back out in the field?”

Rose rolled her shoulder carefully, wincing lightly as they moved through the bull pen to the elevators. “It’ll be a few more weeks yet, I think. That bullet did a number on me. But by then I’ll have found you a good replacement, and then I’ll be back out there babysitting the boys.”

Peggy laughed then drew in a quick breath at the sharp pain it had sent moving though her skull.

Rose waved off whatever reply Peggy had started, ushering her into the elevator.

Rose was already on the phone before the elevator hit the surface.

~*~

Steve met her at the door with a shot of whisky and two pain relievers, handing them over and taking her briefcase and purse as she entered the house.

Peggy swallowed the pills dry then chased them with the whisky, gulping it all down in one shot. “Rose?” she asked, voice coarse from the liquid burning its way down the back of her throat.

“Yup,” he nodded, closing the door behind her and dropping her bags on the side table. He dropped a kiss on her forehead and wrapped his arms around her as she melted against him. “She said you didn’t look too good.”

Peggy let herself snuggle into his embrace, eyes closing as he took the whisky tumbler from her and set it on the table beside them. “Look, feel… take your pick. It was a beastly day.”

He hummed and kissed her hair. “What can I do?”

“Migraine first, international espionage second,” she mumbled.

“Migraine?” he sighed, shifting and lifting her from her feet and carrying her up the stairs. “I wouldn’t have led with whisky.”

“Swhy I didn’t tell ya,” she slurred, more from exhaustion taking over than any effect the alcohol had on her, leaning against him. She felt drained, having fought to get through most of the day and she could feel how little energy there was left to give. Steve set her gently on their bed, then moved around the room, lowering the shades to block out the evening sun.

She kicked her shoes off and slipped out of her jacket, tossing it over the side of the bed as Steve slipped out. He came back just in time to watch her pull her bra out through the arm hole of her tank top, his eyebrows raised as he held out the glass of water to her. “Nobody but us here, Peg.” He sat on the edge of the bed and handed her the glass, waiting until she drank the whole thing. “I’ve seen it all before.”

She laughed through her nose, laying back on the bed and shimmying out of her skirt and stockings. “Just want to be comfortable.”

He eyed her, looking up and down as she snuggled onto the bed, in just her underwear and sleeveless silk bouse, hair mussed. He kissed her forehead and ran a hand over her hip. “Oh, if you didn’t have a migraine…” the lust was put on, and elicited the smile he was hoping for.

He stood, stepping in the bathroom and coming back with a damp washcloth. “Should I or do you want to do it?” He held it out to her, waiting as she blinked up at him, confused. “I don’t want to listen to you complaining about mascara stains on laundry day.”

She had so little energy left that she simply closed her eyes and lifted her head to him.

Steve’s hand gently pulled the cloth across her skin, taking the make-up with it. “Wow, it’s a bad one, huh?”

She hummed. “I’m wiped,” she murmured as he took off her lipstick.

He bent and kissed her lips gently, swiping the cloth over her face once more for good measure as he sat up. “Good thing I’m home today.”

Peggy shifted, finding a good spot on her pillow. “Oh, I’m sure the front entrance tile would feel nearly as nice right now if you weren’t.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.” He smoothed back her hair as he gestured towards the little air conditioning unit they had installed in their window for the summer. “Want me to turn the AC on?”

She hummed a positive.

“Sleep?” he asked, standing.

“Wake me for dinner.” She reached out a blind hand.

He took it, tangling their fingers together for a moment. “I’ll see what you’re looking like.”

She forced her eyes opened, pinning him with a serious gaze. “No, wake me. We have important things to discuss.”

He sighed heavily. “That the ‘international espionage’ part of all this?”

She nodded. “It can’t wait. If I could think straight at all we’d do that first.”

He knelt, looking her in the eyes, dead serious. “Are you or the kids in danger?”

Her severity softened, “Not any more than usual. But it is serious.”

He squeezed her hand then stood. “Alright. But you’re getting at least three hours sleep. I know you were up all night last night.”

“Two.” He started to admonish her, then she held up a hand, “And I’ll sleep the whole night tonight, I promise.”

He sighed, then leaned over and kissed her temple one last time. “Deal.” He flicked the light switch, waiting and watching for just a minute as Peggy settled, her breathing evening out before he shut the door.

~*~

Peggy didn’t look much better two hours later seated at the kitchen table, a cold wash cloth round her neck and her hands wrapped around a mug of tea, but once she managed to get the incident with Franklin out, Steve understood her urgency.

He slid the toast in front of her as he sat, mouth pressed tight. “It’s an answer.”

“Sure is,” Peggy mumbled, picking up one of the slices and playing at the end with her fingernail. “I don’t think she’ll like it.”

Steve barked out a laugh, leaning back against the chair. “Dislike would be an understatement.” He looked up just in time to see Peggy bite into the dry toast and watched her chew slowly and swallow cautiously. “We have to tell her,” he nearly whispered.

She nodded, taking another small bite and chasing it with tea. “No way around it.”

“You think she’ll call Howard?”

Peggy looked up to him and raised her brows, rolling her eyes. “I think she’ll call Brezhnev. Have you met our daughter?”

His cheek quirked up, the smile half sad and half full of pride. “I have, and if she thought it would do any good she’d march right over to the Kremlin and knock on the doors.”

Peggy tossed her toast back on the plate and leaned back with a sigh, pulling the cloth from around her neck and twisting it in her hands. “She’ll be devastated.” She shook her head and looked up at Steve through heavy lashes. “She’s always hoped…”

He reached out and stilled her busy fingers. “We all knew what the possibilities were.”

“It still hurt,” Peggy admitted softly, “to have the undeniable truth in front of me. To know that once and for all she wasn’t ours.”

“She’s ours in every way that counts.” He was adamant in his declaration.

Peggy stood, dropping the cloth on the table as she pushed herself into Steve’s lap, his arms wrapping around her instinctively as she laid her head on his shoulder. His fingers slowly moved into her hair, massaging little circles over her skull. She let her body sink into his for long moments, content in the solidity that was her husband, her right partner, her confidant in all of this. “Sometimes,” she finally whispered, barely loud enough to hear, “I liked to think that maybe, just maybe they’d managed it. Managed to get some bits of us somehow, and that they’d figured out how to make those little bits into a person. She’s so much like us, Steve.”

He hummed in agreement, his voice low and quiet. “Stubborn. Pig-headed. Impulsive.”

She tried to swat at his arm, but the gesture lacked any real strength. “I’m not kidding.”

“Neither am I,” he replied, kissing her forehead quickly. “She’s managed the best and the worst of us. James, too.”

“Speaking of…” She lead, eyes closing as Steve’s fingers massaged some of the pain away.

“Baseball practice.” He looked up to the clock, his fingers still massaging small circles. “Should be home soon. I promised I’d take him out and let him practice more with the car at night.”

“I can’t believe he’s driving already.” Peggy sighed. “As long as you’re still not letting him take the motorcycle.”

Steve hummed happily. “It’s looking like I’ll have to, soon. One more semester of A’s and he’ll have kept his part of the bargain.” He let his hand run over Peggy’s thigh soothingly. “He’s getting stronger. He’s having more trouble pulling his hits. He knocked three out of the park in practice yesterday. I’ll take him to Howards this weekend, see if we can help him even it out.”

“I hate asking him to hide it,” Peggy muttered.

“He understands.” Steve squeezed her close. “But he’s got his sights set on SHIELD.”

”See? Pigheaded, just like the rest of us.”

After another long moment, Steve sighed. “How’s the head?”

“Still miserable.”

He leaned back and brushed the hair from her face. “Can you manage any more toast?”

She hummed a negative and snuggled against his neck. “Do we have any more ginger tea?”

He stood, lifting her in his arms. “I’ll check once you’re settled back in bed. I shouldn’t have woken you.”

“No, I asked you to, and this was too important to put off,” Peggy held tight as he navigated the stairs, though she knew he would never drop her. “We need to come up with a plan.”

Steve gently laid her in bed. “Oh, I think I’ve got one.” He helped her slip her robe off and tucked her in Just as they heard the back door open and slam closed, James calling out that he was home. “You get some more rest, I’ll take care of everything.”

~*~

Mandy looked across the desk, her jaw hanging. “Uncle Howard, you can’t be serious.”

“As a heart attack.” He shrugged and spun the folder around. “The DNA doesn’t lie. It may be new technology, but it’s sound.”

Mandy picked up the folder, studying it intently. She’d spent years of her life sitting at her Uncle Howard’s side, trying to learn everything he knew about her parentage, everything he knew about what she was capable of, until she was nearly as well versed in it as he was. “The Winter Soldier, the man that doesn’t exist, is my dad?”

He leaned back, folding his fingers behind his head. “Kinda creates more questions than it answers, huh?”

“You could say that again.” She sighed heavily, looking over the printouts again. “Mom…”

“What about her?” He leaned forward again, elbows on his desk.

“I mean, I guess….”

“She’s always known, kid, that you weren’t hers. She and Steve always knew exactly where you came from.” He reached across the desk and pushed the file down and away from her face. “If you’re thinking for one second that this will change the way they feel about you…”

She let the folder fall to her lap, her head hanging. “I was so scared they’d hate me when I first found out….”

“Yeah, I remember. But it won’t change a damn thing, and you know that.” He stood and rounded his desk, leaning on the edge and pointed to the pages she was studying. “This? This doesn’t mean a damn thing. It’s just DNA.”

Mandy smiled up to him. It was something he’d said to her many times before when her search for answers started to overwhelm her. Her Uncle Howard, for all his faults sometimes, knew exactly how to make her feel better about all of this by breaking it down into simple, non-emotional science. “How can I tell them? I don’t-”

Howard smiled down at her, knowing Steve knew his daughter, even if she wasn’t biologically his, better than anyone. “I can tell them, if you want.”

~*~

Peggy set the phone down, turning back to her husband on the other end of the couch. “Howard said it went well. Went right as you expected, really.”

Steve put down his book, rubbing his face. “She likes the science part of it, and no one knows it better than Howard.” He held out his arms. “She’ll act a little odd for a few days, then she’ll be right back to normal once she processes all of it.”

“Howard said we should act a little worried, a little shocked. She’ll want to talk, I’m sure.” Peggy snuggled into his embrace, eyes focused on the television where the news droned on in the background. “You know, Steve, we did promise no more lies.”

“It’s not a lie. It’s just… a fib about the order of when we found out.” His hand fell to her back, running over it soothingly. He could feel the way she stiffened, even though she didn’t say anything. “She was gonna take it about as well as a bull in a china shop from us and you know that.”

“I do,” Peggy finally conceded. “And I suppose we did keep up about Santa and the Easter Bunny for far too long.”

“James was little.”

Peggy looked up at him, eyebrows knitting. “You are far too comfortable with these little fibs.”

“I’m just a little shit from Brooklyn. Had to use little fibs all the time.” He smiled down at her. “Did you forget that I lied to the US Army five times?”

Peggy laughed, laying back on his shoulder. “I do tend to forget that, actually.” She rubbed his chest, smiling. “You are just a little shit from Brooklyn, aren’t you?”

“You love me for it.”

~*~

September 1985

”Mandy, watch out, that arm’s mechanical!”

She ducked, sliding under the car and pulling her gun from her holster. “You think I didn’t notice?”

James huffed into his comm, hiding at the corner of the building. “I gotta get you home in one piece, if Mom finds out-“

“Oh, she already knows,” Steve sighed into his own comm, his voice crackling into his children’s ears. “We’re two blocks away with back up, you think you can hold him?”

“Cavalry’s running a little slow today, Pops?” Mandy laughed, trying to catch her breath as she kept the Winter Soldier in her eyeline.

The comms crackled. “Very funny. You know what it took to get your mother to let me out?”

“We could use a sniper up on fifth,” James cut through the banter, a bullet flying past his position. “And a damn army,” he sighed. “Rest of the team’s gonna need a medic. He had a rocket launcher, flipped three cars. Better get clean up mobilized, too.”

“Language,” Mandy bit out tightly, slinking around the car to stay hidden as the figure in black and silver moved confidently through the street.

“Good man,” Steve replied to his son, not missing a beat before relaying the order to set up snipers and get the other teams mobilized. “You’ve got a good tactical eye, James.”

“Like Mom,” he muttered, dropping and crawling into the street. “And Mandy’s just as pigheaded as you both,” he muttered, cursing as he watched his sister stand up and away from the shelter of the overturned car, taking aim at the Winter Soldier. “Get back under cover, Mandy!”

“I’ve got him,” she whispered, taking aim.

Time stood still as James watched her fire. They were both strong and fast, just like their father, but they also both knew the truth: the man in front of them was just as strong, just as fast, and had decades of training and experience over them.

And he was Mandy’s biological father.

It made her stupid. James knew it made her stupid. She took risks she never would have on any other op when the Winter Soldier was involved, she did things she’d never sanction any other agent doing, all in the name of stopping him, all in the name of keeping the man who sired her from hurting another person.

It was almost as if she felt like it was a penance for a crime she never committed. He knew the knowledge of where she was found haunted her in ways she never shared with anyone but him. It was a secret she thought she’d kept tightly hidden, especially from her parents.

She fired, and it bounced off his left arm.

The Winter Soldier froze.

She fired again.

He shuddered as it hit him in the shoulder. He turned.

James would never forget the look of his eyes. He would never forget the way they narrowed, the dark black of the make-up around his eyes to cut down on the glare smudged to the side of his face, the way he could feel the man bare his teeth even though the bottom half of his face was covered with a mask.

James would never forget the seconds he thought he’d watch his own sister die as the Soldier brought up his gun.

And then a shield that he knew far too well flew in, knocking the gun to the ground.

It was a flurry after that.

James had seen his father in action, he’d seen him in training, but rarely, if ever, did Steve take point on missions. In theory, James knew he was impressive.

He’d never seen him fight like this.

It was like a well rehearsed ballet. Every punch was deflected, every kick avoided. His father and the Winter Soldier moved like one being, like they could anticipate how the other was thinking or like it had been pre-choreographed. When the soldier pulled out a knife, Steve dodged and avoided it, blocking with forearms and making the Soldier flip and drop it in a complicated series of moves that left James impressed and frightened.

It was as if the Soldier had finally met his match, and he wasn't just deadly now, he was maniacal. James had heard stories, had seen him just barrel through men. This? This was entrancing.

And then it was worrying, because when Mandy tossed their Dad his shield, the Soldier caught it in one hand instead, knowing exactly how to catch it, exactly how much reverb he had in the movement, and exactly how to wield it back to Steve that had him backing up and on his heels.

The shield didn’t behave like normal metal did, it wasn’t easy to catch and move through space. James had taken months to learn how to catch and throw it under his father, and he still struggled. The Winter Soldier shouldn’t have been able to just master it like he had.

“Dad…” James called out, nervous. Scared.

For the first time, he didn’t think they actually had a chance.

Steve’s voice rang out clear in his ear, even as he never stopped fighting, pinned against a truck. “Get your sister and go!”

”I am not leaving!” Mandy called out, rushing forward. James jumped to his feet, running after her and wrapping his arms around her just before she made it to the middle of the intersection where Steve was wrestling with the Soldier for control of his shield. “I can help!” She turned, gritting her teeth at her brother. “We can both help!”

James took a slow breath and then let go of her, stepping back and pulling his knife from his boot. He didn’t say anything, knowing it would be picked up by far too many people on comms, but just nodded.

Without having to say when, they both moved forward. Mandy went low, James high, and they tackled the Soldier, giving their father enough time to get his shield on his arm and take a breath.

If he was impressive one on one, the Winter Soldier was downright deadly as he took on all three of them. The youngest, James was the most inexperienced in the field, but he made up for it with his strength and speed and tactical understanding. None of that stopped the Soldier from picking him up by the neck and tossing him through the window of a bank across the street.

Mandy was fast, though, and she swept his feet out from under him as he tried to turn back. They should have had him.

They should have had him.

But Steve and Mandy couldn’t help but look towards where James had been tossed to see if he was okay. The second it took them to look was enough for the Soldier to stand and rush Mandy, his metal hand wrapping around her neck and lifting her from her feet.

Steve’s yell reverberated through the street at he rushed him, jumping on his back and wrapping his arms around the soldier’s neck, his eyes panicked as he looked at Mandy, her hands clawing at the metal one that held her feet off the ground, that was cutting off her breathing.

And then, it was like the world stopped.

The soldier loosened his grip just a little, and tipped his head, eyes blinking, not because of Steve, but because recognition was dawning in his eyes.

It was just enough movement that it changed Steve’s grip, and the mask on the Soldier’s face tumbled to the ground.

The Soldier set her down, a name croaking from his lips as she crumbled at his feet. “Rebecca?”

Steve jumped from his back as if he’d been burned. It was a voice he heard in his dreams and his worst nightmares. Suddenly, it all clicked into place: how he knew how to use the shield, how they were so well matched… and yet, it filled him with dread and gave him more questions than answers.

He stumbled between the Soldier and his daughter, jaw slack. “Bucky?”

The Winter Soldier, Bucky Barnes, looked up at Steve, sneering. “Who the hell is Bucky?”

And then they were grappling again, fighting hand to hand as Steve pushed him farther and father away from Mandy, farther and farther away from his daughter… their daughter… even though he was more confused than he’d ever been.

They fumbled, tripping back over the curb, and in an instant Bucky had a gun in his hand, holding Steve at bay.

“Bucky…”

He stepped back slowly, bringing his metal hand up to steady his shooting hand.

“Dad!” James called, and tossed Steve’s shield to him. He ducked behind it just as the Soldier fired off a round of shots, the sound of them bouncing off the vibranium deafening.

When he looked up, the Winter Soldier was gone.

James is crouched by Mandy, shielding her from the bullets that have stopped.

SHIELD vans were slowly pulling up.

But he’s gone.

Bucky was gone.

Steve slid down by his daughter, lifting her to sitting and looking over her neck, the angry bruises already forming. “You okay?” He patted down over her head and shoulders, looking for other injuries. “You hurt anywhere else?” He turned, shouting over his shoulder, “Get the medic!”

”Fine,” she croaked out, clearing her throat. “I’ll be fine.” Mandy pushed away from him and swiped angrily at the tears that had gathered in her eyes more from pain and lack of oxygen than for any real emotion, though she’s more than overwhelmed. “We almost had him.”

”Don’t care about that, just care about you,” He responded, breathless, pulling her back into a hug. He turned his head, looking over at his son. “How about you?” He reaches out a hand, squeezing his son’s shoulder, running his fingers over his cheek where the glass he went through left tiny cuts. “Need the medic?”

”Nah,” James shook his head, his own hand laying on Mandy’s back, trying to help her calm her breathing. “I’ve had worse.”

“You’re mother’s gonna kill me,” Steve muttered, helping Mandy stand as the SHIELD medic ran to meet them.

“Damn right I am,” Peggy’s voice crackled in his ear. “Not a damn instruction was followed by any of you.”

Mandy sat heavily on the curb, trying to wave away the medic even as Steve insisted he check her out. ”We almost-“

“Don’t say another word, young lady,” Peggy’s voice admonished. “I’m letting Fury clean this mess up before I say something I’ll regret.”

Steve got his way, and Mandy let the medic start checking her over. “We’ll be back as soon as the medic clears Mandy, Peg.”

“Damn well better be,” she muttered before she could be heard handing the comm over to Fury.

Steve pulled the earpiece out and tucked it in his pocket, his children followed suit, waiting for the medic to give Mandy a clean bill.

“Dad?” James finally asked quietly.

“Yeah, bud?” He rubbed his face, watching the streets as SHIELD’s clean up team got to work.

James tried to keep his voice even, non-accusatory. “You knew him.”

”I knew him,” Steve affirmed. He felt his heart sink again now that he wasn’t running on adrenaline anymore. He shook his head. “I used to know him.”

James sighed, turning away. “So you gonna tell me who Bucky was?”

”Better question,” Mandy started, standing, her voice still rough as the medic stepped away, “is who is Rebecca.” She sniffed, turning and heading away from the destruction, her father and brother falling in step with her. “He saw my face and he stopped dead.”

“The Winter Soldier…” Steve took a deep breath and sighed, “His name was Bucky Barnes. Rebecca was his sister.”

“So she would be my aunt, since he’s my father,” Mandy whispered, looking at her boots. “I guess I look like her.

“You do.” Steve stopped moving, waiting until he could look at both his children. “He was my best friend, and I thought he died on a mission that went bad.” He reached out a hand and set it on James’ shoulder. “He’s who you’re named after.”

“He was a commando?” His son asked, moving again to get them towards a transport that would take them back to base.

“He was the commando. He was the closest thing I had to a brother. Hell, he was my family.” Steve stopped, turning to where his friend, now foe, had disappeared. “And now, we gotta find a way to help him.”

”Help him?” Mandy asked, turning her Dad around. “You can’t be serious.”

Steve looked around, content they were far enough away from anyone else that they wouldn’t overhear. “That man? He’s not the Bucky I knew. The Bucky I knew would never have done any of the things ascribed to him.” He dropped his voice and leaned down to Mandy. “You were worried about the kind of person you came from, about the kind of person Hydra would use to make you. I can tell you, Mandy, there is no better man. Bucky… he was…” Steve shook his head, at a loss for words. “If it were reversed, he wouldn’t stop until he got me out, and I can’t do any less.”

“We,” James corrected him. “We can’t do any less. Not for family.”

Steve nodded, and they moved forward again in quiet lock step, filing into the back of a van.

It was a quiet ride until just before they made it back to headquarters when Mandy popped her head up. “We still have to tell Mom.”

“Mom knew Bucky, too.” Steve let out a slow breath, his voice hovering between angry father and disappointed superior officer. “But I’m sure we’ll only talk about that after we talk about how you disobeyed orders, Mandy.”

She sighed, her voice less ragged than it was. “She’s gonna be so mad. She’s going to court-martial me.”

“Nah,” James smiled as they stopped, “Can’t get court martialed in SHIELD.” He helped her down from the van. “They’ll just throw you in a pit in Alamogordo.”

“Stop teasing your sister,” Steve tossed out as he jumped down and walked past them, the kids falling into step behind him. “Your mother’s wrath is much worse than anything they could throw at you in Alamogordo.” He paused, seeing Peggy waiting for them just inside the doors, hands on hips, jaw tight with fury but eyes full of anxiety. “Ready?”

“For mom’s wrath?” James asked, rolling his shoulders back. “No. But we don’t have a choice, do we?”

She didn’t yell, didn’t even move from where she stood when they came in, she just pointed to the elevator. “Office, now!” She called out in a clipped voice.

Steve could feel the fear pouring off of her, the adrenaline and the anger mingling to clog her throat with emotion. Once they were in the elevator, he reached out, twining his fingers with hers.

She turned and looked at him, unshed tears shining in her eyes. He just squeezed her hand.

Whatever came next, they were going to deal with it together.

Just like they always did.

Like a family.

#steggy fic #3p's fic #steggyweek24 #nobody's baby #Winter soldier makes an appearance #SO MANY OF YOU WERE RIGHT #This has been planned for SO LONG

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trans-axolotl · 2 months ago

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my gendered experience growing up as an intersex person was overwhelmingly defined by my responses and resistance to everything that got me labeled as a failure: failure to quickly get a gender assigned at birth, failure to go through a normal puberty and grow up into a woman, failure at meeting the standards for "complete womanhood" because of my intersex sex traits, and yet simultaneously failing to ever be acknowledged as a "real man" and being treated as a threat when I expressed I wanted to transition.

before i realized i was a man and came out as trans, the ways that girlhood was denied to me was very often humiliating and painful. locker rooms filled with other girls were a frequent source of shame. there were many big and small ways that i was told that my intersex body made me insufficient, incomplete, broken. i was forced onto estrogen, forced into shaving my body hair, and was constantly being told to change myself to better fit this mystical idea of a "normal woman." and even though I ultimately ended up becoming a man, the denial of girlhood was painful.

but i think that these things would have been even more difficult to navigate as an intersex girl if on top of everything I already said, i was having to cope with the denial of my girlhood while i was forced into boys locker rooms. if my doctors were forcing me onto testosterone hrt and refusing to even discuss estrogen, if all my legal paperwork had "M" on it and was a logistical nightmare to change, if every support group for my intersex variation labeled it as a "men's support group," if the LGBTQ community spaces i tried to join were misogynistic towards me often to the point of exile, if my self determination as an intersex girl was denied in most spaces of my life, and on and on and on. while listing all these things out i also don't want to make it seem like it's all about suffering and pain--so much of transition for me has been about joy in my self determination and how much it feels like a reclamation of autonomy to decide what I want my body and self to be like--i know this is an experience i share with so many of my trans intersex friends.

as an person who was AFAB, although there were many ways that trying to grow up as an intersex girl were a painful, logistical nightmare, many times and places that i was excluded from woman's spaces, etc. however, there was a simultaneous affirmation that i was right to strive for that in the first place. which is logic rooted in some fucked up compulsory dyadism, but also which would have made some things slightly easier or even possible at all if i had wanted to embrace being an intersex girl within this fucked up system.

pretty much every time i've seen people on tumblr talking about "afab transfems" in an intersex context, people seem happy to collapse these experiences and act like there's no meaningful distinction or point in distinguishing between different types of intersex embodiment. it seems incredibly extractive, to be perfectly honest with you--taking terms already used by a community to make meaning of their experiences and to expand and dilute that term enough that it means something pretty different than the original.

it's making me think about the concept of epistemic injustice, which is a term coined by Miranda Fricker to describe oppression related to knowledge, communication, and making meaning of the world. There's two subtypes of epistemic injustice: testimonial injustice and hermeneutical injustice. Testimonial injustice refers to the dynamic where marginalized people are labeled as not credible, excluded from conversations, and their testimony and knowledge is labeled as unreliable, even when they're the ones who are experts and have first hand experience of what people are talking about. (this is why i probably won't make this post rebloggable--i've noticed this pattern on tumblr many times where trans men speaking about transmisogyny get lots of notes and are given a lot of grace, where trans women are silenced, attacked for not having perfect wording, and otherwise delegitimized.)

the second type is called hermeneutical injustice. it describes how marginalized people are denied the right to make sense of the experiences in their own lives. this can look like preventing people from building community, terminology, a political understanding of themselves, and the interpretive resources needed to process how you live in the world.

this is a form of injustice that I think almost all intersex people are very familiar with--we are denied community and interpretive resources to the point that we're told we don't even exist, that intersex isn't a real word, and so many more examples that leave us isolated and with very few options for understanding what we're collectively experiencing. as an intersex person i really intimately understand how frustrating, confusing, and painful it is to not have words for your experiences, your identity, your life.

so it makes me really sad and pissed off when it seems like intersex people seem to be replicating this exact same type of epistemic injustice towards transfems and specifically towards intersex transfems. pretty much every time recently i see people talking about "afab transfems" they're doing so in a way that seems to deny that trans women even have the right to make sense of their own experiences in the world. there seems to be this mindset that these political frameworks, these interpretive resources that transfems have built up are just up for grabs for anyone. and then on top of that has come with it a lot of cruel, hateful language and direct attacks towards many intersex transfems who are facing so much harassment right now.

an important value to me is this idea of reciprocity as a foundation for solidarity. to me reciprocity means that we're prioritizing the ways we care for each other, we're thinking about how we can uplift each other, and we're watching out for extractive or exploitative patterns where one group is constantly expected to be in "solidarity" with another group without getting the same respect and care back toward them. i think that there could be so many ways that intersex people of all genders could share our overlapping experiences and actually be in true, meaningful solidarity with each other, but i barely ever actually see that happen on tumblr. and that pisses me off, because i do think that there's so much we have in common that we could celebrate and support each other with. i feel so much kinship with so, so many of my trans intersex friends, and ways where i see our lives converge. but i don't think that can happen in an environment where there's no acknowledgment of the ways that our experiences will sometimes (often) differ from each other, and the ways that we have unique needs.

another frustration i've had based on this most recent couple months of transmisogynistic intersex posting on tumblr is how intersex people have been mostly ignoring intersex community resources and devaluing the existing intersex terminology that people created to try to meet our needs. so much of what i've seen people describing on tumblr seems to really line up with the term ipsogender. Ipsogender is a term coined by an intersex sociologist Cary Gabriel Costello, and is used to describe intersex people whose gender matches the gender they were medically assigned at birth, but who might not feel like cis or trans fits them, might experience dysphoria, and who might feel like they've ended up transitioning medically or socially in some ways. this is a word that exists that an intersex person put time into coining because they wanted other intersex people to feel seen, embraced, and have ways of understanding themselves and communicating to others, and that's something that's super meaningful to me! and yet, i've rarely seen anyone reference it, and also seen multiple people making fun of it in other spaces online.

there's also intergender, which is another intersex specific gender term used to describe when your gender is inseparable from your intersex traits, and that your intersex identity is intertwined with your gender identity in some way. some people just identify as intergender, others use it as an adjective and exist as an intergender man or woman. intersex terminology like this is really important to me, especially because we're so often denied the right to make sense of our own experiences.

i think ultimately what i wanted to say with this post is just that when i think about intersex community, some of the most important values of intersex community for me are solidarity, care for each other, and affirming our right to define our own existence. and i don't think that can happen in a community where people are acting in extractive ways, harassing and attacking their fellow community members, and being dismissive of the realities of other intersex people's lives.