Clara had been sent home on account of her severe head injury. Due to her having no family in this time period, Howard had been contacted and Clara had been sent to stay with him. Bucky had written to her every day since she'd been gone which had earned her a great deal of teasing from Howard. Clara treasured those letters, kept every single one with her. She'd even taken them with her to the lab to help Howard.
He'd finished the time machine weeks ago but Clara couldn't bring herself to leave. She'd have to, at some point, but leaving without any explanation wasn't fair to either Bucky or Steve. Not to mention Clara didn't want to leave anymore. Bucky would come back. The war would be over and then what? Clara would just leave? He'd go through all of the pain and suffering only to come home to find his girlfriend had left who knows where. She couldn't do that. She couldn't leave him, go back to her own time and life her life knowing he had already lived his. He would live his life without her and die before she was even born. But what was the alternative? Go missing one day from Tony Stark's safe house and never return? She knew what happened to Steve, could she really leave him on his own?
Maggie had come to visit her, making a deal with Colonel Phillips to have all her breaks in one go and was granted three days of leave.
"Another letter for you, Clara." She said as cheerfully as she could as she came down to breakfast. The three of them sat at the table in silence as Clara read the letter. Everyday she dreaded reading another letter like the one Colonel Phillips had written to her about Holly. That formal letter of death and despair. She knew Holly had died but it was a formality and the letter had to be written. An identical letter had been sent to Holly's parents too.
Clara breathed a sigh of relief that put everyone out of their misery once she bad skimmed through the letter.
"They've gone on another mission. It's pretty standard. Some HYDRA scientist they need to bring in. They'll be fine." She assured them, as much as herself, as she folded the letter and filed them away with the others in her skirt pocket.
How long had it been since Bucky had written that letter? She wondered. How long had it been waiting in the post to be delivered to her? What had happened to him since?
Howard was in and out of the mansion each day. He was a valuable asset to the US government and had been drafted to a sort of research programme. It's how he had managed to get his hands on the resources he needed for the time machine. Maggie and Clara were left alone for most of the day. They filled it by hitting the town, going dancing and window shopping or, when it was late enough in the day, drinking.
Maggie took Clara out that day, to distract her. They had gone dancing, or Maggie had. Clara had politely declined every desperate man who came her way. Now adays most eligable men had joined the army but Maggie agreed to dance with every sleazy man who flung himself at her.
Every now and again Clara would take out her stack of letters and read one. It had become a ritual, like the process of reading Bucky's words would keep him alive.
This was Maggie's last day before she had to head back to work so Clara could hardly refuse her offer to go get drinks. It was past twelve by the time they got back. Maggie had drunk too much to notice the letter lying on the door mat. Clara put it out of her mind long enough to put Maggie to bed. Then she came back to the door. That letter stared back at her. The bold typeface stared through her. It didn't care she was there. It had a purpose and it couldn't care about her feelings.
"Miss Lewis,
I regret to inform you that Sergeant Barnes of the 107th went missing behind enemy lines and has been presumed dead.
I offer you my sincere condolences and courage in this time of grief.
Your country's gratitude for the life you have sacrificed is beyond measure.
Colonel Phillips."
Sacrifice. That was all it was. A sacrifice.
The door clicked open as Howard came home. Clara was still standing by the letter box. She didn't know how long she had been standing there, unable to move.
"I'm ready." She said. "I don't want to stay here anymore. It's all over. There's nothing left for me here."
The worst part about it all was that she'd have to go back to a time where he would have been dead for seventy years. Everyone else would have forgotten or moved on. But for her, it would only have been a second.
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