"You're telling me that you got Captain America-the War Hero, Steve Rogers-to become best friends with a thirteen-year-old kid? What, is this supposed to slowly introduce him to how irritating Generation Z is? Project Training Wheels or something?"
...
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Her name was Lizzie, Bucky repeated in his head.
Lizzie Carter always looked younger when she slept. Steve knew this, but for someone who had never officially met the young girl until he was stuck in a car with her, the sight of her curled into a small ball in the backseat confused Bucky—in fact, a lot about her confused him, but it also gave his mind something else to focus on. The puzzle of the small girl was one his brain could try and solve, unlike the others with missing pieces he still couldn't remember. Her being Peggy Carter's great niece he could understand, and had been able to connect that the older blonde was her sister after their disagreement under the overpass. They looked too much alike to not be. The second thing, that Steve loved the two Carter girls just as much, if not more, and in a different way than he had loved Peggy all those years ago. Perhaps some things never change.
The four of them had stopped at a gas station just outside of Berlin, which meant they were close to the airport now where they could get a plane to Siberia. Sam was taking a quick lap around the place to stretch out his legs, leaving the first moment alone between the two old friends since Bucky had woken free. Not the Winter Soldier...and rather than talk, Bucky stood silent outside of the car, leant against one of the rusty trashcans, watching Lizzie Carter's face contort into pain before relaxing again. If Steve noticed in between filling up another gas carton for the small trunk, he said nothing.
"How old is she?"
Bucky turned to look over at the man, awaiting a response. Steve's lips fell into a straight line as he glanced at her sleeping frame through the side window. "She'll be sixteen in October."
So she was thirteen when she met the Winter Soldier for the first time, Bucky calculated. Unconsciously, he clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth together as he tried his hardest to understand. He had seen child assassins as young as they can get, conditioned in the Red Room, but there was more to her. Something different, not an assassin but no longer a child. The chain underneath his burgundy shirt scalded his skin now. She had his dog-tags. That was the only reason why he hadn't killed her that day, with her frail frame completely subjected to his hand on her throat. When the gas clicked to signal it was full, Bucky blinked out of the memory and turned back to Steve.
