Fic: Five People who taught Pinky Pinkerton something and one person he taught something to
Title: Five People who taught Pinky Pinkerton something and one person he taught something to
Authorcat_13145
Rating: PG 13
Warning: Character death (canon), implied homophobia and racism, Spoilers for Secret Warriors, Last ride of Howlin Commandoes
Notes:
I freely admit it is unlikely a death from cancer would occur as I've described it, but I'm going to plead Marvel science. I've also taken some liberties with Pinky's history and his politics. For reference to what I'm refering to, please see Pinky's wikipedia page and links from there.
Characters and pairings: Pinky Pinkerton (and the rest of the Howlin' Commandoes), implied one sided Dum Dum Dugan/Nick Fury
Summary: See title
Pinky knew Brian, though not in the biblical sense, before the war. They were a part of the same social set and their...tastes meant that they frequently ended up in the same clubs or parties.
He can remember always admiring Brian. There was nothing obvious about Brian that betrayed his nature, unless Roger was standing in the room with him. Brian could have fitted in, being a part of the normal society.
He chose not to, and never seemed to regret or doubt his decision.
Later on, when he met Union Jack in France, Pinky admired him even more, as the other man took the family legacy with no complaints and made it his own. Virtually no one remembered his father’s heroics on the battlefields of the Somme, but all over Europe were men with Union Jack stories to tell.
Brian taught Pinky hope.
Pink doesn’t think there is anyone who doesn’t admire Nick Fury. Even those who hate his guts have an inbuilt respect for the man’s courage and sheer audacity. Dino once told him that some German Officer was boasting, when he managed to capture the Commandos for a short time, that Fuher himself had offered over a million marcs to the man who brought him Nick Fury’s head, and with his school boy German, Pinky can believe that.
He wasn’t quite sure what to make of the man the first time Sam Sawyer introduced them, but Fury just glared at Percy for ten minutes before nodding his head. With in another five, he had Percy’s respect and admiration.
The man didn’t just march to the beat of his own drum; he set the tempo that everyone else followed. He was the first man to integrate his unit years before the rest of the American army would even consider it.
After the rather embarrassing incident involving Percy and a policeman in a public toilet on VE day, Fury had bailed him out and bellowed at him for over an hour for being such an idiot, but no worse than he yelled at Reb and Izzy after they were caught up in a brothel raid. After that, the incident was never referred to again. He never made Percy feel like less of a man or a human because of the way he was, the first person Percy had ever met who did that.
It wasn’t just men either. Fury was probably the only man that Percy knew who treated women as true equals. He wouldn’t discriminate any agent because of their sex, but equally he allowed no liberties because of their sex. The woman who served under him, from Sharon Carter to Carol Danvers all respected him because of that and would follow him to hell.
Percy agreed with him. He had fought in a war that was nothing to do with his country because Fury had asked him to, and he knew he’d do so again.
Nicolas J Fury taught Percy self worth
True, it might not be common for a man of his class to come across people like Gabe, but he had nothing against them and couldn’t understand the fuss the Americans made about Gabe’s presence in the unit.
Izzy and Reb tried to explain it, but he was left with the distinct impression neither of them truly understood it either.
Gabe, however, never let it upset him. He was probably the most cheerful man that Percy ever met, with his bugle always at the ready. In fact, a couple of times he used the prejudices of his fellow Americans to his advantage, whether clearing seats in a bar for the Commandos, or hunting out traitors among POWs.
He was never bitter about serving a country that didn’t want him.
Gabe Jones taught Percy patriotism.
Nearly everyone admires Peggy Carter’s beau, and Pinky would be lying if he said that he didn’t find Captain America...impressive.
But Peggy Carter was worthy of admiration. She was serving when most of her country was still adjusting to the idea of war. Like Gabe, she served a country that would barely acknowledge her existence normally, and like Gabe she never let it get her down.
Unlike Gabe, she challenged it every day. Peggy Carter was a feminist before the word was invented. She would fight any man who tried to suggest she should seduce a target or refused to treat her as an equal.
She also dealt with the craziness that seemed to follow the Invaders and those who got involved with them around, and she did so with dignity. And Unlike Spitfire (who he also admired, but less so), she didn’t let her fighting stop with the war.
In short, whatever else she was, she was much more than Captain America’s girlfriend and Pinky admired her for breaking out of that mould.
Peggy taught Percy Courage.
Dum Dum was in love with Nick Fury. Pinky is sure that most of the Howling Commandoes knew that, but back then you didn’t talk about stuff like that, and it set the tones for the years afterwards. Or perhaps it was that it was so tragic that none of them could speak of it.
Because Fury wasn’t like that. Oh, Nicolas Joseph Fury could be living proof of the phrase “no straight men in foxholes” but mentally and physically he was straight. And everyone, including Dum Dum, knew it.
Dum Dum never said anything, never did anything to tell Fury directly, but it was always there. In the way Dum Dum threated and fussed over Fury, in the fact that he had abandoned everything he knew to follow Fury and did so again and again. All the Commandos would follow Fury into hell, but Dum Dum would have followed him beyond that. There were a thousand ways that told just about everyone that Dugan was in love with Fury but nothing obvious, even if it ended up being.
Once, when they had got drunk together, Dum Dum had admitted that Fury knew. “Keeps telling me to find someone else, that he’s not like that.” Dum Dum sighed. “And I’ve tried. But I can’t.” He shrugged his massive shoulders. “I’m a one woman man. Just my luck that my woman is Nicolas Joseph Fury.”
Pinky regarded it as proof of how bad the situation at the end of SHIELD was that none of them questioned Dum Dum remaining when Nick was gone and the war was raging. They had all assumed that Nick had left Dum Dum with a secret mission, but when the stuff about the Skrulls came out, he couldn’t say he was honestly surprised. Dum Dum Dugan would have deserted with Fury if he’d had the chance.
And on the day that Fury finally gave up the ghost, Pinky was sure that Dum Dum wouldn’t last long after that.
It was hard not admire a knight errant love like that (though Dum Dum always protested when ever Pinky brought that up.)
Dum Dum taught Pinky about Love.
And one he taught something to.
“You’re sure about this?” Pinky resisted the desire to roll his eyes at Dum Dum, as he was sure it was not the done thing.
“Quite sure. The hospital was good enough to admit that there was nothing they could do, so I see no reason to burden them with my presence.”
The giant’s face gently frowned. “You’re not a burden, Pinky.” He paused. “Right, best go fetch something to eat.”
Pinky watched from his bed as the other man blundered out of the bed sitting room.
“Poor old Dum Dum.” The voice came from the foot of his bed. “He’s very confused about this.”
Pinky nodded, watching dispassionately as a tiny man appeared at the foot of his bed and grew steadily. “But he won’t interfere.” He held out his hand. “It’s good to see you Roger.”
The smaller man’s lip curled back, as though contemplating some sarcastic reply, but then he looked at Pink, seeing what Pinky had seen in the mirror that morning when he shaved. The soft parlour of his skin, the look in his eyes, that told anyone who’d seen it once that death wasn’t that far away. And Roger had seen nearly as many men die as Pinky had.
“Likewise.” He took the thin hand in his. “Though I won’t deny I wish the circumstances were different.”
Pinky nodded. “Were you waiting long?”
“Not really.” The other man flushed slightly. “I came in when Dum Dum let the cat out.” He paused, looking around the room. “It’s just him, then?”
Pinky nodded quietly.
He and his brother might have being reconciled in the war, something he was more grateful than he could say for, but his brother had paid the price of his service, dying in 1945. The rest of his family had never being reconciled to his lifestyle, his politics, the decisions he had made in life. The younger generation, who might have been accepting of those, had being alienated by his job choices after the war.
Fury was still technically a wanted criminal, and the rest of the Commandos were on active service for want of a better term.
“It’s enough.”
Roger nodded, suddenly decisive. “I’m staying.”
Pinky smiled. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.” He lay back against the pillow. “Just keep out of Dum Dum’s way, please. As you said, I’m confusing him enough by this.”
Roger nodded. “The Invaders don’t understand it either, why I won’t take the Torch’s blood.”
Pinky nodded. “After Life’s heavy burden, do I sleep.”
“What’s that?” Dum Dum’s voice came from the kitchen. Roger began to shrink rapidly, as Pinky replied. “A quote from a tombstone I remember from youth.” He smiled as the other man entered. “I was talking to myself. A habit of old men.”
Dum Dum’s face soften. “Ya’re not old Pinky.”
“I am as old as I am going to get, Dum Dum, and the sooner you accept that, the better.” There was a waspish note in Pinky’s voice, which made Roger wonder how often they’d had this conversation over the last few days and months.
“Never thought I’d see the day when a Howlin’ Commando gave up with out a fight.”
Pinky’s eyes flashed. “I am not admitting defeat.” He paused for a moment and closed his eyes. “As a well spent day brings happy sleep, so a life well spent brings happy death. It’s my time, Dum Dum, and I accept that. I’ve lived longer and seen more than I ever thought. But now,” He shifted on the bed. “Now it feels like I’m crouching in a foxhole, about to go over in to the next big adventure.”
Dum Dum face was perplexed, but then it softened. “Hey remember that time back in ’43, where we spent 12 hours crouching in a hole in the field, with the rain pouring down, cos Reb made a joke about Fury’s girl?”
“Vividly.” Pinky smiled. “The sergeant was the gentleman I always felt sorry for in that particular exercise, as he was the only one lacking appropriate head gear.”
They talked, remembering the past, talking about the good times, and sometimes even the sad. The hours passed slowly, but even Roger could see that Pinky’s face was getting paler, his laugh weaker, his eyes sliding close.
Dum Dum reached out and took Pinky’s hand in his, as the other man slide further towards unconsciousness. “Ya going to meet some great guys.” He muttered, softly. “Say hi to Dino and Clay for me, and make sure you introduce yourself to Junior. Tell him, we were all really proud of him. And that we haven’t forgotten.”
Pinky’s breathing had slipped into the death rattle, but Dum Dum stayed where he was, holding his hand, until it stopped all together.
“Howlin’s Commandos,” He muttered, as though it was a creed. “Never defeated. Never forgotten.”
Carefully, he pulled the sheets up to cover Pinky’s face, tucking him in like a baby.
“Guess I’d better call the medic. Get it official.” Roger watched as Dum Dum blundered out of the room towards the phone, opening the window as he did so, the old Irish man remembering the superstition to let the soul escape.
He knew he had time while the big Irishman pulled himself together, and called Nick Fury before he called any doctors.
He let himself grow big again and pulled the sheet back from the face. Pinky’s face was pale,, but he seemed almost to be smiling.
Roger felt his own throat closing up.
“Keep fighting the good fight, old friend.” He muttered, softly. “And tell Brian he’d better be waiting for me.”
In the kitchen, Dum Dum blew his nose loudly.
Roger shrunk down and heading towards the open window. He felt strange, as though he was the one who was lost, not Pinky.
Pinky taught Roger Audrey how to die.
Authorcat_13145
Rating: PG 13
Warning: Character death (canon), implied homophobia and racism, Spoilers for Secret Warriors, Last ride of Howlin Commandoes
Notes:
I freely admit it is unlikely a death from cancer would occur as I've described it, but I'm going to plead Marvel science. I've also taken some liberties with Pinky's history and his politics. For reference to what I'm refering to, please see Pinky's wikipedia page and links from there.
Characters and pairings: Pinky Pinkerton (and the rest of the Howlin' Commandoes), implied one sided Dum Dum Dugan/Nick Fury
Summary: See title
- Brian Falsworth
Pinky knew Brian, though not in the biblical sense, before the war. They were a part of the same social set and their...tastes meant that they frequently ended up in the same clubs or parties.
He can remember always admiring Brian. There was nothing obvious about Brian that betrayed his nature, unless Roger was standing in the room with him. Brian could have fitted in, being a part of the normal society.
He chose not to, and never seemed to regret or doubt his decision.
Later on, when he met Union Jack in France, Pinky admired him even more, as the other man took the family legacy with no complaints and made it his own. Virtually no one remembered his father’s heroics on the battlefields of the Somme, but all over Europe were men with Union Jack stories to tell.
Brian taught Pinky hope.
- Nick Fury
Pink doesn’t think there is anyone who doesn’t admire Nick Fury. Even those who hate his guts have an inbuilt respect for the man’s courage and sheer audacity. Dino once told him that some German Officer was boasting, when he managed to capture the Commandos for a short time, that Fuher himself had offered over a million marcs to the man who brought him Nick Fury’s head, and with his school boy German, Pinky can believe that.
He wasn’t quite sure what to make of the man the first time Sam Sawyer introduced them, but Fury just glared at Percy for ten minutes before nodding his head. With in another five, he had Percy’s respect and admiration.
The man didn’t just march to the beat of his own drum; he set the tempo that everyone else followed. He was the first man to integrate his unit years before the rest of the American army would even consider it.
After the rather embarrassing incident involving Percy and a policeman in a public toilet on VE day, Fury had bailed him out and bellowed at him for over an hour for being such an idiot, but no worse than he yelled at Reb and Izzy after they were caught up in a brothel raid. After that, the incident was never referred to again. He never made Percy feel like less of a man or a human because of the way he was, the first person Percy had ever met who did that.
It wasn’t just men either. Fury was probably the only man that Percy knew who treated women as true equals. He wouldn’t discriminate any agent because of their sex, but equally he allowed no liberties because of their sex. The woman who served under him, from Sharon Carter to Carol Danvers all respected him because of that and would follow him to hell.
Percy agreed with him. He had fought in a war that was nothing to do with his country because Fury had asked him to, and he knew he’d do so again.
Nicolas J Fury taught Percy self worth
- Gabe Jones
True, it might not be common for a man of his class to come across people like Gabe, but he had nothing against them and couldn’t understand the fuss the Americans made about Gabe’s presence in the unit.
Izzy and Reb tried to explain it, but he was left with the distinct impression neither of them truly understood it either.
Gabe, however, never let it upset him. He was probably the most cheerful man that Percy ever met, with his bugle always at the ready. In fact, a couple of times he used the prejudices of his fellow Americans to his advantage, whether clearing seats in a bar for the Commandos, or hunting out traitors among POWs.
He was never bitter about serving a country that didn’t want him.
Gabe Jones taught Percy patriotism.
- Peggy Carter,
Nearly everyone admires Peggy Carter’s beau, and Pinky would be lying if he said that he didn’t find Captain America...impressive.
But Peggy Carter was worthy of admiration. She was serving when most of her country was still adjusting to the idea of war. Like Gabe, she served a country that would barely acknowledge her existence normally, and like Gabe she never let it get her down.
Unlike Gabe, she challenged it every day. Peggy Carter was a feminist before the word was invented. She would fight any man who tried to suggest she should seduce a target or refused to treat her as an equal.
She also dealt with the craziness that seemed to follow the Invaders and those who got involved with them around, and she did so with dignity. And Unlike Spitfire (who he also admired, but less so), she didn’t let her fighting stop with the war.
In short, whatever else she was, she was much more than Captain America’s girlfriend and Pinky admired her for breaking out of that mould.
Peggy taught Percy Courage.
- Dum Dum Dugan
Dum Dum was in love with Nick Fury. Pinky is sure that most of the Howling Commandoes knew that, but back then you didn’t talk about stuff like that, and it set the tones for the years afterwards. Or perhaps it was that it was so tragic that none of them could speak of it.
Because Fury wasn’t like that. Oh, Nicolas Joseph Fury could be living proof of the phrase “no straight men in foxholes” but mentally and physically he was straight. And everyone, including Dum Dum, knew it.
Dum Dum never said anything, never did anything to tell Fury directly, but it was always there. In the way Dum Dum threated and fussed over Fury, in the fact that he had abandoned everything he knew to follow Fury and did so again and again. All the Commandos would follow Fury into hell, but Dum Dum would have followed him beyond that. There were a thousand ways that told just about everyone that Dugan was in love with Fury but nothing obvious, even if it ended up being.
Once, when they had got drunk together, Dum Dum had admitted that Fury knew. “Keeps telling me to find someone else, that he’s not like that.” Dum Dum sighed. “And I’ve tried. But I can’t.” He shrugged his massive shoulders. “I’m a one woman man. Just my luck that my woman is Nicolas Joseph Fury.”
Pinky regarded it as proof of how bad the situation at the end of SHIELD was that none of them questioned Dum Dum remaining when Nick was gone and the war was raging. They had all assumed that Nick had left Dum Dum with a secret mission, but when the stuff about the Skrulls came out, he couldn’t say he was honestly surprised. Dum Dum Dugan would have deserted with Fury if he’d had the chance.
And on the day that Fury finally gave up the ghost, Pinky was sure that Dum Dum wouldn’t last long after that.
It was hard not admire a knight errant love like that (though Dum Dum always protested when ever Pinky brought that up.)
Dum Dum taught Pinky about Love.
And one he taught something to.
“You’re sure about this?” Pinky resisted the desire to roll his eyes at Dum Dum, as he was sure it was not the done thing.
“Quite sure. The hospital was good enough to admit that there was nothing they could do, so I see no reason to burden them with my presence.”
The giant’s face gently frowned. “You’re not a burden, Pinky.” He paused. “Right, best go fetch something to eat.”
Pinky watched from his bed as the other man blundered out of the bed sitting room.
“Poor old Dum Dum.” The voice came from the foot of his bed. “He’s very confused about this.”
Pinky nodded, watching dispassionately as a tiny man appeared at the foot of his bed and grew steadily. “But he won’t interfere.” He held out his hand. “It’s good to see you Roger.”
The smaller man’s lip curled back, as though contemplating some sarcastic reply, but then he looked at Pink, seeing what Pinky had seen in the mirror that morning when he shaved. The soft parlour of his skin, the look in his eyes, that told anyone who’d seen it once that death wasn’t that far away. And Roger had seen nearly as many men die as Pinky had.
“Likewise.” He took the thin hand in his. “Though I won’t deny I wish the circumstances were different.”
Pinky nodded. “Were you waiting long?”
“Not really.” The other man flushed slightly. “I came in when Dum Dum let the cat out.” He paused, looking around the room. “It’s just him, then?”
Pinky nodded quietly.
He and his brother might have being reconciled in the war, something he was more grateful than he could say for, but his brother had paid the price of his service, dying in 1945. The rest of his family had never being reconciled to his lifestyle, his politics, the decisions he had made in life. The younger generation, who might have been accepting of those, had being alienated by his job choices after the war.
Fury was still technically a wanted criminal, and the rest of the Commandos were on active service for want of a better term.
“It’s enough.”
Roger nodded, suddenly decisive. “I’m staying.”
Pinky smiled. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.” He lay back against the pillow. “Just keep out of Dum Dum’s way, please. As you said, I’m confusing him enough by this.”
Roger nodded. “The Invaders don’t understand it either, why I won’t take the Torch’s blood.”
Pinky nodded. “After Life’s heavy burden, do I sleep.”
“What’s that?” Dum Dum’s voice came from the kitchen. Roger began to shrink rapidly, as Pinky replied. “A quote from a tombstone I remember from youth.” He smiled as the other man entered. “I was talking to myself. A habit of old men.”
Dum Dum’s face soften. “Ya’re not old Pinky.”
“I am as old as I am going to get, Dum Dum, and the sooner you accept that, the better.” There was a waspish note in Pinky’s voice, which made Roger wonder how often they’d had this conversation over the last few days and months.
“Never thought I’d see the day when a Howlin’ Commando gave up with out a fight.”
Pinky’s eyes flashed. “I am not admitting defeat.” He paused for a moment and closed his eyes. “As a well spent day brings happy sleep, so a life well spent brings happy death. It’s my time, Dum Dum, and I accept that. I’ve lived longer and seen more than I ever thought. But now,” He shifted on the bed. “Now it feels like I’m crouching in a foxhole, about to go over in to the next big adventure.”
Dum Dum face was perplexed, but then it softened. “Hey remember that time back in ’43, where we spent 12 hours crouching in a hole in the field, with the rain pouring down, cos Reb made a joke about Fury’s girl?”
“Vividly.” Pinky smiled. “The sergeant was the gentleman I always felt sorry for in that particular exercise, as he was the only one lacking appropriate head gear.”
They talked, remembering the past, talking about the good times, and sometimes even the sad. The hours passed slowly, but even Roger could see that Pinky’s face was getting paler, his laugh weaker, his eyes sliding close.
Dum Dum reached out and took Pinky’s hand in his, as the other man slide further towards unconsciousness. “Ya going to meet some great guys.” He muttered, softly. “Say hi to Dino and Clay for me, and make sure you introduce yourself to Junior. Tell him, we were all really proud of him. And that we haven’t forgotten.”
Pinky’s breathing had slipped into the death rattle, but Dum Dum stayed where he was, holding his hand, until it stopped all together.
“Howlin’s Commandos,” He muttered, as though it was a creed. “Never defeated. Never forgotten.”
Carefully, he pulled the sheets up to cover Pinky’s face, tucking him in like a baby.
“Guess I’d better call the medic. Get it official.” Roger watched as Dum Dum blundered out of the room towards the phone, opening the window as he did so, the old Irish man remembering the superstition to let the soul escape.
He knew he had time while the big Irishman pulled himself together, and called Nick Fury before he called any doctors.
He let himself grow big again and pulled the sheet back from the face. Pinky’s face was pale,, but he seemed almost to be smiling.
Roger felt his own throat closing up.
“Keep fighting the good fight, old friend.” He muttered, softly. “And tell Brian he’d better be waiting for me.”
In the kitchen, Dum Dum blew his nose loudly.
Roger shrunk down and heading towards the open window. He felt strange, as though he was the one who was lost, not Pinky.
Pinky taught Roger Audrey how to die.