July 14, 1929

The first time Magdalena Rossi met James Buchanan Barnes, she loved him. It wasn't romantic love, though. Not yet at least. She didn't want to marry him and didn't envision a future with him, but she loved him as anyone would love their savior and first friend.

It was a normal day in July, hot and horrible. Magdalena was walking home with her mama's too-big bag of washing that she had picked up from the neighbors that morning. It was difficult work for a ten-year-old, especially a small ten-year-old. She could barely see over the bag she was clutching to her chest, and kept tripping. This was worrisome for two reasons. One, if she dropped and ruined these clothes, mama and papa would be so disappointed in her. With papa injured and out of work, she knew her family desperately needed the money from mama's small washing business. It was her responsibility to help out. Mama and papa were counting on her. Two, if she tripped (and it was highly probable that she would trip), she would most likely ruin her own clothes. Mama had explained to her two months ago that she had to make these clothes last at least until December. They couldn't afford new ones. Any holes or tears she caused she would have to live with.

And so, Magdalena carefully walked down the streets of her Brooklyn neighborhood. Sweat was steadily trickling down her spine, further staining her yellowed white blouse, as she craned her back attempting to keep the bag in her hands. As annoyed as she was by the whole predicament, Magdalena was more bothered by her hair which kept escaping her braid. Although most of it was sticking to her forehead and neck, a few sneaky strands were persistent in blocking her view. Every so often a mess of chestnut colored hair would fall into her eyes and she would have to stop walking, aggressively wipe the wisps away with her shoulder, catch the bag as it tipped forward, and continue on her way.

It was this process that distracted her long enough not to notice Richard Jones and his crew strutting toward her. Although the boys were two years older than Magdalena and much bigger, they never passed up an opportunity to torment her. Usually she watched out for them, always walking on the opposite side of the street and making herself walk faster than natural for her small legs. This time was different though.

One moment Magdalena was trying in vain to wipe her hair out of her eyes, and the next moment the bag was grabbed and thrown into the air. A hail storm of shirts, panties, stockings, and dresses rained down, littering the block. Magdalena was so shocked, she stood still for a moment, watching the clothes flutter in the wind and roll through the street. Then panic set in. She immediately lurched toward the street, desperate to salvage what she could but someone grabbed onto her arm roughly and was tugged back to the sidewalk.

"Whatcha think you're doin', Greaseball?", sneered the boy gripping her arm. It was George Palmer, Richard's right hand man. Magdalena growled at his nickname for her and tried to yank her arm from his grasp. "I don't think that's very polite," he snapped, holding his arm up higher so she was practically dangling from his meaty hand, forcing her to stand on her toes and putting more pressure on her arm. Magdalena pushed back tears at the pain and fixed a hard glare on him.

"Eh, she's an Italian, what does she know of politeness?", responded the third boy as he patted her face condescendingly. Although Richard was the leader, this boy, Andrew Mink, was the cruelest. A day inflicting pain was a good day for him.

"I think we should teach her some manners. Show her how she's supposed to behave," Andrew said menacingly as he yanked Magdalena's head back by her braid. His smile widened when she winced but she refused to break eye contact with him.

"Do whatever you want to me," Magdalena whispered, "just let me pick up the clothes first." Andrew and George scoffed, both looking to Richard, eager for his response.

"And why would we do that, Magdalena?", Richard asked, coming to loom over her and saying her name with disgust. He was challenging her. Andrew pulled harder on Magdalena's braid, forcing her to meet Richard's gaze. Cold blue eyes bore into her determined brown ones. She briefly thought about fighting, but was far from stupid. Magdalena knew she was no match for the older boys one-on-one, let alone trying to stand up to all three of them by herself.

"Because," Magdalena said softly, "my family needs food." She relaxed her body, hoping to convey some sense of how desperate she was and praying that they had an ounce of sympathy in them. Her eyes, however, remained fierce. All three boys stared back at her, slightly amused by her lack of fear. Yet, unsurprisingly, their smiles only grew crueler at her admission.

"I don't think it would be too big a problem if a few of you 'Talians starved," Richard sneered. With that he turned on his heel and jumped on top of a pile of the clothes that still filled the street. He gleefully stomped on the pile, tearing and dirtying them more than they already were. Andrew and George howled with laughter and released Magdalena. Running into the street with the enthusiasm of school children, all three boys kicked and stomped and threw the clothes around the street.

"No! Stop!" Magdalena screamed, the tears she had been holding back now flowing down her cheeks and only serving to make her angrier. She ran up to George, tearing what had been a beautiful evening gown from his hands. He made a move to grab her but she easily dodged it. Magdalena may be weaker, but she was faster. She quickly stuffed the dress into her blouse so they couldn't take it from her again.

"Oh, the little Greaseball has some fight in her!" Andrew howled with laughter. Magdalena spun around to see him deliberately ripping clothes in half.

"Why can't you just leave me alone!?" She yelled, her voice breaking more than she would like it to. She began scooping clothes off the ground and tucking them into her shirt, hoping that would save them.

"Isn't this your mommy's dress, Magdalena?" Richard taunted. Mama's nicest dress was balled up in his claw of a hand, held above his head, the bright yellow fabric serving as a beacon. With speed she didn't know she possessed, Magdalena spun and ran at him. He was too busy laughing with his cronies to notice her coming. Her fist rammed into his stomach before he even caught a glimpse of her. Immediately, he doubled over in pain and Magdalena took the opportunity to kick his legs out from under him. His body hit the ground clumsily while his head whacked the pavement with an audible 'thud'. In the tumble, her mama's dress fell from his hand and Magdalena didn't waste any time tucking it into her blouse.

For a moment, she felt triumphant. Richard was on the ground, Andrew and George were too shocked to move or even speak. It was just Magdalena, standing in the silence of her victory. A smile creeped onto her face although the tears still fell.

Her victory was short lived. Once the boys finally came to their senses, George ran to Richard while Andrew rushed at her, a murderous look on his face. Magdalena's smile quickly disappeared and she spun around to run away, but it was too late. Andrew had a head start and he grabbed her by her braid. She cried out as he pulled her to him.

"What the hell do you think you're doin'?!" Andrew yelled. He released her braid and shoved her back, causing her to stumble into Richard. His hands gripped Magdalena's upper arms before his nails pierced her skin. She gathered her courage and looked him in the eyes, trying to convey more confidence than she actually had. Never had she seen Richard look so angry. He was breathing in short, hot breaths, his jaw tight and his eyes the coldest blue Magdalena had ever seen.

"You're gonna pay for that, you bitch," he spat before his fist connected with her face.

Magdalena had never been hit before. She didn't react but the force of his blow sent her stumbling backward. Dazed, she touched her now tender cheek and nose, her hand coming back crimson. The blood soon dripped onto her blouse, staining it, and probably staining the clothes underneath it as well. So much for trying to save them.

Before she could do anything else, one of the boys pushed Magdalena forward. She frantically tried to keep her footing, refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing her on the ground. Though she didn't have to worry about falling; to her surprise and confusion, George caught her. Only to push her backward again. She was soon pushed and hit and shoved from one boy to the other.

"Please! Stop!" Magdalena cried as the boys continued to toss her around to each other. The world was so blurry. Tears clouded her vision, she couldn't tell what direction she was going, and all she could hear was laughing and the barrage of insults the boys were spewing at her.

"Look at the little greaseball spin!"

"Careful not ta touch her skin. You might catch somethin'!"

"Your skirt's blowin' up, girlie. Be a lady why don't ya!"

"What the hell man!"

Suddenly Magdalena stopped spinning. She didn't really care why she had stopped, she was just grateful that she had. Her head was pounding but through her dizziness she could vaguely see Richard on the ground. A boy she had never seen before was standing over him.

"What do you think you're doin', pickin' on a lady like that!", the boy yelled. As the world stopped spinning, Magdalena saw that the boy was around Richard's age. He seemed tall. Whether he was truly was tall or she just perceived him to be was debatable, but she was awed. No one had ever stood up for her before.

"She ain't no lady, James," replied George timidly, his face reminding Magdalena of an admonished child.

So they know him, she thought. She looked around at the boys, noticing that they hadn't made a move to fight. Andrew and George seemed to be keeping their distance from James, and Richard hadn't even tried to get up yet.

"And why is that, George?" James asked with a roll of his eyes. Magdalena noticed that they were the same blue as Richard's, but completely different. He was looking at George with the same fierceness that Richard had looked at her with, but James' didn't hold any of the cruelness. There was kindness, but also warning. George started to say something but changed his mind, looking down at the ground and stuffing his hands into his pockets instead.

"She's… she's… you know!" Andrew sputtered in an attempt to explain their actions. James simply scoffed.

"Get outta here." James stated. He adjusted his brown cap in an authoritative manner, revealing a headful of dark hair.

"You don't own this street, Jamie." Richard snarled as he clumsily pushed himself up off the ground. Stumbling a little, he straightened up and squared up to James. Magdalena could see that James definitely was tall, standing at least seven or eight inches taller than the other boy. Furious, icy eyes met challenging blue ones. Without breaking eye contact, Richard spit blood onto the ground. James must have hit him earlier.

"You think you're a tough guy, but you're not," Richard growled quietly, "You ain't better than me, I can take you easy. So, what're you gonna do, huh?" With that, he shoved James' shoulders, making him take a few steps back.

"Fight you, that's what!" a confident but new voice rang out. A boy Magdalena hadn't noticed before stepped up next to James. He was much shorter than all the other boys, probably closer to her height. There was nothing about this boy that seemed like he could hold his own against anyone, but something about him made her look twice. Neatly combed blonde hair covered his head while his clothes hung off of his frail frame loosely, emphasizing his smallness. Despite this, his hands were balled up into fists by his sides and his blue eyes mimicked the look in James'. Magdalena immediately admired him.

"Oh, you're gonna fight us, Stevie?" Richard laughed. Andrew and George joined in the laughter, overcoming their previous fear of James and coming to flank Richard. James' body tensed at both the insult to Steve and the increased threat. Steve only tensed at the latter.

"I don't like bullies," Steve stated, an unbelievable strength in his eyes despite his size. The corners of James' lips quirked up at Steve's statement. Magdalena didn't know who these boys were but she liked them.

"Well, it's three against two… oh wait, I miscounted. Three against one and a half." Richard sneered, poking Steve in the chest roughly. It seemed that Richard's taunt had emboldened the rest of his crew. All three were smiling cockily and advancing on James and Steve. Her heroes weren't as confident now. Although they held their brave fronts, Magdalena could see the fear in their eyes carefully masked by determination. When James took a small step backward, she sprang into action. She didn't even think about what she was doing. Even though they had saved her, she was no damsel in distress and there was no way she was going to let these boys fight alone, especially for her.

Magdalena lined up on James' other side and stood as tall as she possibly could, her head barely reaching James' shoulder. All eyes were on her, surprised. James tilted his head in her direction, careful not to let Richard and his gang out of his sight, and smiled widely at her. Steve nodded in Magdalena's direction, accepting their newfound comradery, a small grin also on his lips.

Emboldened by her new friends, Magdalena fixed her glare on their opponents. Her sudden action had shocked them, that was clear. All three of them had stopped in their advance at her obvious challenge.

"Now its three against three," Magdalena declared.

"Pft, you're just a girl," Richard taunted as he leaned toward her.

"A girl who put you on the ground not even three minutes ago," Magdalena spat, knocking his confident look right off his face, "and I'll do it again." With that, she leaned toward him, closing the distance between them. Magdalena felt powerful with her new friends and, even though it wasn't assured that the three of them could take on her attackers, it was clear they could definitely hold their own. It seemed like this didn't go unnoticed by the boys either. James crossed his arms confidently and grinned, a twinkle of mirth in his eye. Steve stood up taller and raised his chin higher in the air.

Richard, George, and Andrew assessed the trio with somewhat less confidence, clearly deciding if a fight with them was worth it. For a tense few moments they all stood frozen in tense silence before George backed off with a click of his tongue.

"Ah, come on guys, we ain't gonna waste our time on these punks," he said, placing his hand on Richard's shoulder. For a moment, Richard didn't move, simply stared at Magdalena angrily. In that moment, she could tell that he hated her and wanted to get back at her for making a fool out of him. Yet his eyes kept flicking to James, fearful of what would happen if he actually picked a fight. Eventually, Richard backed up, a crooked smile plastered on his face.

"Yeah, got things to do," he said, his steely gaze returning to Magdalena, "plus, we got forever to teach her her place, right boys?" Andrew and George cackled, throwing their arms over his shoulders in some perverse sense of unity against Magdalena. Richard's smile grew when he saw her shiver at his threat. James and Steve both frowned while James moved forward just the slightest to put himself between her and Richard. It was a silent warning to Richard and he knew it, his smile faltered just the slightest.

"Let's get out of here," Richard sneered. With that, the three boys turned and walked away from them. Neither James, Steve, or Magdalena moved until they had disappeared around the block, making sure they were away from the danger. At least for the moment.

"Well, how 'bout that." James suddenly said, breaking the silence, "For once it's me pickin' a fight instead of you, eh Steve?" He laughed deeply and turned to grin at Steve who simply chuckled and nodded his head in agreement. Magdalena sighed heavily, half laughing with her new friends and half relieved to have gotten out of there virtually unscathed. Her sigh also brought the boys' attention to her.

"Here," James said, digging in his pockets for something before coming to stand in front of Magdalena. "For the blood." He handed her a ratty handkerchief that already had a few blood stains of its own. Magdalena accepted it eagerly and immediately pressed it to her nose.

"So, what's your name?" James asked. Steve came to stand next to him and they both looked at her expectantly.

"Oh… uh… Magdalena." She answered shyly, her cheeks flushing pink as they focused on her, "T-though, um, most people call me Mags. So, you can do that, too… if-if you want." She grimaced slightly at her awkward response, but both boys simply smiled.

"Mags it is," James declared, "I go by Bucky, not James like those pinheads called me. So you can do that, too, if you want." He smiled good-naturedly letting Magdalena know he wasn't making fun of her. She returned the smile. He made it easy to smile.

"And this here, is my friend Steve!" Bucky exclaimed, throwing his arm around the other boy and bringing him to stand in front of her. Steve smiled timidly at her and Magdalena immediately liked him. He didn't have the same obvious charm and confidence that Bucky had, but Magdalena liked him just the same. He was awkward, like her.

"Nice to meet you, ma'am." Steve said with a kind smile as he offered Magdalena his hand to shake. She immediately took it and grinned back at him. His handshake was firm, which surprised her. Steve wasn't just skin and bone, then.

"Can we help you pick up these clothes?" Steve asked politely, looking pointedly at Magdalena's stomach. Confused, she looked down with a frown and immediately blushed crimson. With all the clothes stuffed under her blouse, it looked like she was either pregnant or twenty pounds heavier than she was. A pair of panties were even poking out. Of course she would have underwear hanging off her when she made her first friends.

"Oh, y-yes please," she stuttered, quickly trying to get the clothes out and relieve her embarrassment.

"Leave it to us!" Bucky stated with a wink, making Magdalena blush even more. He and Steve immediately turned and got to work gathering the clothes scattered about the block. It didn't take the three of them more than five minutes to place everything back in the laundry bag.

"Thank you so much for helping me," Magdalena said as Steve stuffed the last pair of stockings into the bag, "Usually people just walk by when Richard and his friends bother me. So, you two are really…" she stumbled, trying to find the right words to express her gratitude. "Just… thank you." She finished with a sigh, smiling up at the boys.

"It's really no problem Mags," Steve said as he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, "like I said, I don't like bullies." He offered her a smile with his joke, though she could tell it was genuine.

"Plus, anytime we can put Richard in his place is time well spent." Bucky added, "Not to mention that we're friends now. We have to stick together." With that, he took the laundry bag out of Magdalena's hands and slung it over his shoulder. He adjusted his cap with his free hand and smiled crookedly at her.

"Where to, Mags?" Bucky asked, slinging his free arm over her shoulders. With that, the trio headed off to her house, talking the whole way. For once, Magdalena wasn't worried about the chores or about tripping, she wasn't scared of running into Richard or of disappointing her parents, her back wasn't aching and her arms weren't straining. When they neared her house, Bucky and Steve were finishing their argument about baseball and Magdalena realized that she was happy.