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Mark My Words

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October 15, 2023

Dear Darcy,

I am officially the first super soldier in space.

Thor’s spaceship turned out to be more like Peter Quill’s (you know Quill?) ship, whose crew Thor has joined. The power dynamics here confuse me, I gotta admit. Thor definitely seems in charge. Quill says he is. Rocket only laughs. I’m not sure who I believe. Think this calls for some covert recon.

Hell-kitty wasn’t pleased to be put in the carrier. She wasn’t pleased with the blanket I stuck in there either. Thor insisted I let her out the minute we boarded—turns out, hell-kitty is taken with him. She’ll sleep on his shoulder sometimes. I gotta admit, it stung. Thor said not to feel too badly about it, he’s rather good with animals, especially the hellion variety. Chloe rubbed against my leg last night though—it made me smile.

I’ve been meaning to ask you about your work, but I don’t wanna come off prying. You said you work at a journal—what’s it like? What made you pick that job?

How have you been?

I hope this letter goes through. I’m not sure magic snail mail works across the galaxy.



October 16, 2025

Dear Bucky,

Intergalactic snail mail totally worked! Hooray!

Quill’s definitely the one in charge, but Thor’s got this quality…how do you even describe it…he commands a room. It’s just his personality. You see Thor, you see a leader. And with good reason, too—by the end of his run, he made a pretty damn good king. Has he talked to you about Asgard yet?

You’re definitely not prying—seriously, we had honesty hour, remember? Nothing’s off the table for me as far as I’m concerned. I work at a science journal in the graphic design department, meaning I make the visual decisions, if that makes sense. I never thought this would be where my life would go, but I like it. It’s a solid job. There’ve been few sure things in the last few years, so job security has been a nice one to have.

Even so, I know this won’t be where I grow roots. I can feel the itch, low-burning, in the back of my mind. I know a year, two years down the line, I’ll go somewhere else. It’s just who I am. My mom would call me ‘dandelion’ when I was younger, like seeds flying in the air. She wasn’t surprised at all that I went from Poli-Sci to Astronomy to Shield.

The last few days have been pretty nice. I met a really friendly dog at the park yesterday. I’m sorry hell-kitty hasn’t warmed up yet, but she will, I promise. Time, patience, and love. And hey, if not—you can always put her on My Cat From Hell.

What stuff do you guys have planned for the space travels? I hope you’re safe.



October 17, 2023

Dear Darcy,

You know, I really understand what you described about yourself. A wanderer. Honestly if the U.S. hadn’t joined the War I’m not sure what I was gonna do. I didn’t want to spend money for college; wouldn’t even know what to major in if I had. That was Steve, really. He had his whole life planned. And when the War happened, he had his whole life adjusted and planned then too. He’d look up night schools while I was signing us up for painting classes in Manhattan.

Manhattan…fuck, so much has changed. It’s hard going places where I used to growing up. Manhattan, Long Island, all different. Some buildings are still there. Shuri, a friend I made in Wakanda (a story in itself), told me change is okay. We change a little bit every day. I’m trying to remember that when it all gets to be too much.

Space though…shit, it’s exhilarating. There’s something incredible about it. It’s not like what they show in the movies. I can see why Thor wanted me to join him. I thanked him again this morning. It makes me wonder if this is why he chose me. I didn’t even know I was on his radar. You’re right about him—he commands. Even when the guy looks at you. He feels your pain.

The plan right now is to accompany Thor on a few of his….missions? Meetings? The Guardians are doing their own thing but their pit stops are all the same which is why they joined forces. Drax and I have become good friends in a really short time. That’s a good guy. Blunt (the best kind). Mantis is a sweet girl. She asked to hold my hand once, and I felt really bad for what happened afterward—she felt things I keep buried deep and was a cried for a few minutes. I felt so sorry. My memories don’t hurt anymore…not sure how much you know about this stuff…but the pain in them never really go away, I guess. Everyone was real nice afterward, though.

Now Rocket. He’s a little punk. He keeps implying he’s gonna steal my arm. I have half a mind to unscrew it and throw it at his head.

I’ll end it here, I think. Hope you’re having a good day in 2025.

- Bucky

October 19, 2025

Dear Bucky,

I’m so glad you’re getting along well and enjoying yourself! I haven’t personally interacted with the Guardians that much, but your descriptions definitely match the personalities. And yeah I know about the memory stuff… I hope Mantis is okay. More importantly, I hope you are okay. Not to get deep in a letter, but… when I say I get it, I really do. Not to your extent, of course, I won’t pretend that I do, but I understand trauma. Trauma is a bitch.

Is it bad that your exhaustion with Manhattan made me smile? God knows it’s been beaten up and crashed into by aliens enough times that it’s unrecognizable from even ten years ago. I’m curious, though: what was Manhattan like for you? Don’t skimp the details; that’s the best part.

Oh yeah, space. The Final Frontier. These are the voyages… sorry! I couldn’t resist (silly TV reference). Space is absolutely nothing like what they show in movies. It’s less glamorous and flashy, but it is overwhelming. And beautiful? You’re probably thinking, “How would Darcy know?” Darcy’s been to space, that’s why! You know how you said Thor really sees people? Feels their pain? All true. It’s… there’s really no describing my relationship with Thor. I didn’t realize just how much of a friend he considered me until after the Snap was reversed and we saw each other again. And he’s been through some of the worst grief and loss any one person could experience... yet, he saw me. Through me. And he sat down with me, and we just talked. For hours. He’d come again the next day, and the next, and we’d talk, and the words got harder to say with each day that passed. Until I couldn’t say any of them anymore. And then he asked if I’d like to travel with him for a little bit.

It was only fair; he’d taken Jane through the Bifröst years ago and left me behind which totally sucked. I told him no. And then a minute later I told him yes. And for about three days I think we went on a borrowed ship that I didn’t have the courage to ask where he’d gotten it. It’s just like you described. Incredible. And I think—I suspect—he knew what he was doing, and that it would be temporary, because he didn’t seem even a little surprised when I asked to go back home. I never told him I checked into a center, and Jane never told him, but I know he understood.

What I’m saying is, Thor’s taking you on a life-changing field trip so you better get ready for the waterworks and a friendship that’ll last a lifetime.

I’m getting a little tired so I’ll stop here. I’m hitting the fall deadlines for work and I always dread this time of year. No rest for the vaguely wicked.

Safe travels, friend.

- Darcy

November 3rd, 2023


That had to be my favorite letter yet. It’s right up there with the photograph of Mew-Mew. Before I forget, an update on hell-kitty: she slept on my lap today. Almost shed a goddamn tear right in front of Rocket and my protein bar.

I’m gonna start on your first question. Manhattan. You ever smell something so rancid you feel like you ate it? That was Manhattan. The factory smoke and gasoline in the air, plus with the number of buildings going up every other day, all gave the air a certain smell. But it was different than what it is today. Everything was just a little brighter. The amount of plastic is disarming. Don’t see much of billboards anymore. To be fair, I rarely went to the city unless I needed something; Steve and I stayed and worked almost entirely in Brooklyn. Just seeing everything look different, written different, with every store and shop and street name erased from existence, preserved only in my memory, is jarring. So jarring.

By the way. I asked Quill if he knew what ‘space, the final frontier’ was… he says I’m pen pals with a nerd.

Sounds like you and Thor have an incredible friendship. It makes sense - he’s a great guy. And you’re pretty incredible yourself. =) Also hoping work eases soon.

Gotta cut this short – hell-kitty is demanding food.

- Bucky

October 22, 2025

Bucky. Your first smiley face! In your letter! I’m weirdly proud?? Please do it again.

You’re pretty great yourself. Seriously… this has been super nice. :) Sometimes I wonder, just what exactly was I filling my evenings with before we became a letter-writing duo? Nothing good, that’s for sure.

Have you made a stop anywhere yet? Cool planet? Weird people? Weirder food? Did Rocket abscond with your metal arm yet?

Sorry this letter’s short – work is still beating the stuffing out of me. I miss sitting around doing nothing. What do you miss most?

Also, I’m a bit confused by the date of your last letter. It’s still October for me. Did you get 12 days ahead of me, or is this weird letterbox fuckery?

Your friend,

- Darcy the Nerd

November 23, 2023,

Definitely something fishy. Not sure if it’s the mailbox or space. Maybe both. Thor says time works differently in space, physics stuff. You worked with an astrophysicist—know anything about this?

I know for a fact my evenings were bland. I really didn’t much care for television. Hardly anyone plays movies with Greta Garbo or Ginger Rogers. What is that!

And, writing to you feels part of a routine now. Calming almost. I enjoy it. You’re… a really nice gal. And a great friend. I hope I am a good friend to you too.

We’ve made two stops so far. Peter doesn’t want me sharing covert Guardian secrets so I don’t think I can tell you what we were up to. It involved eggs. Dumb as shit, if you asked me, but they looked nice. Which was probably the point. Thor’s agenda was something else entirely on that planet, so I stayed with him. He spoke to several diplomats. I think he’s trying to find a permanent home for his people, but he won’t say.

You asked what I missed most. Right now, I miss my sister. I looked her up a while back. I found her kids, grand kids, great grandkids… and met them too. They welcomed me in their lives and their homes. The youngest was not yet three. He held onto my leg a lot until I lifted him in my arms. A cute little sprout. It felt like I had family again, the blood kind, but it still felt incomplete. And they knew, they knew what had happened to me ever since it went public. They called me a war hero. Couldn’t help but feel something of a fraud.

But Rebecca is gone, and I’d give anything to tell her I made it. I’m alive. I saw a bunch of kids at the diplomat’s house, tiny blue little ones, and it stirred old feelings.

Just a heads up, things might get hectic here soon. Not sure when my next letter will be.


- Bucky =) ( <-- as requested)

October 25, 2025,

Dear Bucky,

The smiley at the end of your letter was much appreciated. It’s so cute! Somehow it’s cuter because you made it. Yes that totally makes sense.

While I’m not Jane-levels of knowledgeable on the laws of time during space travel, Thor’s suggestion sounds about right. Time isn’t as linear as we think, but don’t quote me on this. In any case, so long as we’re still able to write to each other, I can’t see it being a problem.

It honestly warmed my heart when I read how you met your sister’s family. That must’ve felt so surreal, to see generations of family like that. They gave you their home and their unconditional love and Bucky, it’s not my place, and I know it’s not, but I hope you know nobody thinks of you that way. There aren’t enough words in the universe to express just how damn incredible it is that you came out the other side of what you went through. Do you have any idea how inspirational that is? I don’t know if you know this, but you’re kind of a meme online (you know what a meme is?)—but in the best way. The format goes: “If Bucky Barnes could fight his way out of Hydra, I/you can ____” That’s no small thing, dude.

Your sister would be so happy to know you made out of all of it okay. And…and I think you’re incredible. Talking to you, getting to know you—I’m the luckiest girl in all of New York. And I can’t remember if I said this already, but you’re a really great friend to me, Bucky. I feel like I can really talk to you. You…get me.

Switching gears—Ginger Rogers and Greta Garbo? I see you are a man of particular taste. Wait til you hear about Doris Day. I’d love to watch some of her movies with you; there’s the Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz era, then the whole Richard Burton/Elizabeth Taylor thing. You haven’t even gotten there yet. There’s so much for you to see and catch up on! It’s kinda exciting – if you were here I’d totally watch all the movies with you. What do you think? 2026 plans? If I say to you now to save the date for I dunno January 12, 2026, you think you could do it?

Hope space travels go well and safely—thinking of you guys. Say hello to Thor for me. x

- Darcy

October 28, 2025

Dear Bucky,

Yes, I’ve written again – I know, I know, you warned me you’re going to be busy, so don’t worry about replying to everything I say in these letters. I just like my routine, you know? Writing to you is one of the most cathartic parts of my day.

It’s three days until Halloween and it will never stop being a bummer that nobody wants to trick or treat anymore. Life has changed so much. I don’t blame the parents at all for making that decision – if aliens reigned terror while I had kids, I’d never leave my house again. it’s just bittersweet to see an integral part of your childhood to just sort of phase out like that.

Thinking of you. Hope everything’s okay.

- Darcy

November 4, 2025

Dear Bucky,

I swear if Thor got you killed, I’m going to kick his Asgardian ass.

Hope you’re doing okay, and no need to reply to these.

November 22

I realized maybe my letter from a few weeks ago might’ve um, been a bit too much. About your family and… listen, in case you’re reading these and avoiding replying, I’m super sorry and you don’t have to write back. This is my last one, promise—I don’t want to do anything that makes your uncomfortable.

Your friend,


April 5, 2024

Darcy, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I do not know what’s happened but the ship went through a wormhole and somehow it’s April and I know you’re probably done with writing to me. I would understand completely. It’s been months but it’s only be half a day for me. I’m—fuck. Fuck. I’m sorry Darce.

- Bucky

I wouldn’t stop writing to you for all the universe.