TF

Brooklyn. 1941. The rain was pouring down over the city as she and Bucky were running through every alleyway, looking for Steve. Growing up as Steve’s twin sister wasn’t easy. Always keeping him out of fights, reminding him to grab his inhaler, it was like caring for a child. And it never helped he liked to throw out the fact he was seven minutes older. It was supposed to be a good day. She and Bucky had got their orders. They had one last night as the three dumb kids in Brooklyn, and of course it had to start with getting Steve out of a fight.