Fic: 'At What Cost?' by Bon; Captain America, Bucky; Gen; Rated: 12
Title: 'At What Cost?'
Author: Bon
Prompt: 616 | Captain America, Bucky | Gen | WWII. Necessary gambles.
Rating: 12
Word count: 2,374
Disclaimer: The characters and settings featured in this story are the property of Marvel Entertainment. This is a work of homage and no copyright infringement is intended.
Warnings: Minimal cursing, depictions of violence, subject matter concerns events from World War II, military slang (minimal but present)
Author's notes: I've tried to make his as non slashy as possible and still just a friendship. Hopefully the closeness of Steve and Bucky's relationship comes across. Hope you enjoy the fic.
Thanks to
aramuin for the beta. All mistakes are mine.
~#~#~
"Hold the line, boys. Just another couple of minutes." Captain America whisper-shouted down the line. "Don't worry! There'll be enough Jerries left for you to deal with when we get the go signal!"
The small group of soldiers with him nodded, trusting him enough to believe what he said. He'd worked with their like before and knew how to deal with their pre-battle nerves and itchy trigger fingers. He understood that they were eager to jump from their hiding places and vault the barricades to bring justice to the Nazis running the camp. It was only a small troop of men who were going to use the element of surprise to sneak up on the enemy from behind their own lines and maybe give the rest of the Americans slightly better odds. Good men, all, and good fighters too.
He could recognize the pre-battle jitters in himself, worry about the men and boys called to service. He recognized and needed to get a handle on them before they got the better of him. Captain America turned to go over his plan with his young partner only to find himself looking at the grizzled veteran beside him. He cursed himself. That was the third time he'd done that tonight.
'Damnit Steve, get your head back in the game.' Steve berated himself. 'He's living the fine life, wining and dining the ladies, no doubt. He'd laugh to see my head out of game over something so simple.'
"Gone Fishin'" was what the note tucked under Bucky's pillow had said. A private code to let Steve know that the Brass had another role, a more secret one, for Bucky to play during the upcoming engagement. Course, there was no clue as to what that plan had been, nor would there be until Bucky mysteriously reappeared at the mess tomorrow or the day after. Brass was never quite good enough to share the secret before dragging you off. Steve just hoped that the kid was keeping his head down wherever he was.
"C Company, go, go, go." The voice over the radio crackled, drawing Steve from his thoughts.
"You heard 'em, boys. Give 'em Hell." Steve shouted, as he drew himself up.
Seconds later, he was over the barbed wire barricades and already neck deep in German soldiers. Ducking and diving, he gave the German soldiers more than a run for their money as he crashed through their defenses. Shots rang out but Steve neatly deflected them with his shield. He wouldn't see any of his boys fall to enemy fire. Not if he could help it, at least. They'd be on their own soon enough.
It didn't take long to get past the last German defender on this side of the camp. He took a moment to take stock of where he was. Barracks to the left of him, laboratory to his right. Right on target. With a salute to the guys he'd sat in the trench with, Captain America hefted his shield a little, making sure it was secure. He moved through the shadows until his back was tight against the laboratory wall. He took a steadying breath and slid along the wall, ever watchful for a stray guard or deserting soldier.
A firm kick splintered the door and sent it clattering down the hallway. Steve was quick to follow, not wanting anyone to get the drop on him or have too long to react. But there wasn't even an echo of a footstep. He stopped, now more cautious. Something about this seemed off to him. Could be a trap. Wouldn't be the first time the Germans had tried to sucker punch him. But damed if they were going to pull a fast one on him.
If the Brass were right, this lab was supposed to be the hub of research into a German version of the super serum, but so far, there'd been nothing approaching the level of security that Steve had expected. Perhaps they'd already upped sticks and moved the facility. Perhaps everything was waiting to crash down on him when he got to the heart of the facility. But one thing was for sure, Steve wasn't going to be taking anything for granted.
He was thankful for the soft soles on his bootsas he picked his way through the rubble of the door and further into the building. Keeping close to the wall, he flicked glances in both directions. Last thing he wanted was a couple of extra ventilation holes where they didn't belong. A scuffle behind him made him look back towards the doorway, only to see one of his own men behind him, just inside the door, the one that had been beside him in the trench, the veteran. The soldier nodded his head at Steve. Steve frowned under the mask. He hadn't expected the soldier to follow him but was damned glad that he had. Someone had his back. It was a reassuring feeling. Steve turned back to the task at hand.
Just at the edge of his hearing range, Steve could hear whispered German. He crept closer to the end of the corridor and peeked around the corner. He could see a Jerry soldier leading a white coated figure towards him. Well, not towards him specifically, but towards where he was. So nice of the Germans to deliver his objective to him. He'd have to write the soldier a nice thank you card. Steve allowed himself a small smile. It seemed that he was picking up Bucky's habit of quipping in the face of the enemy.
"Schnell, bitte, haben wir nicht viel Zeit."
Worrying words that set Steve on edge. Why didn't they have much time? Was the facility set to blow? Steve pulled back from the corner just far enough that he would be in prime position to grab the scientist and put the soldier down quickly.
He measured their steps, hardly daring to draw breath. Closer, closer. Just a little bit closer.
As soon as Steve saw the flash of white in his vision, he reached out and pulled the scientist free of the grip of the German soldier. He felt the impact as the man hit the wall with a little more force than he'd wanted. He'd deal with that in a minute. First things first. Steve raised his shield, already swinging to knock out the guard.
Blue eyes met familiar brown eyes and Steve struggled to stop his fist's momentum. Bucky's hand shot up, stopping the punch from hitting him. Steve rocked backwards, off balance after pulling the punch. He opened his mouth to say something but the sound of a shot being fired drowned out any sound that he made. Steve had the shield in front of him in a second as he moved to block the scientist from harm. He looked around, scanning for the source of the sound. His eyes fell on the soldier in the doorway. The soldier whose M1 rifle was pointed at him. Steve paused. No, not at him. At the German soldier he'd been fighting with. At Bucky.
"Stand down, soldier." Steve was shouting even as he was turning to see if Bucky had been hit.
Time slowed to a crawl, or seemed to. Bucky was looking down at his hand and the bright red liquid on it. Confused, he raised his head to look up at Steve. Steve wasn't quick enough to support him before his knees wobbled but was there when the muscles finally gave up and he collapsed. Steve cradled him as he brought him down to the floor. Bucky was shot and it was bad. Bad enough to knock the lad off his feet. Bad enough that there was no ready comeback except confusion.
Steve could hear the soldier coming closer asking if he was okay but Steve couldn't bring himself to answer the man. At least not until there was a hand on his shoulder.
"Grab the scientist and don't let go of him until we're out of here." Steve growled the words out.
The soldier nodded and took the scared scientist by the arm, waiting for Steve's lead. Steve tenderly picked Bucky up and whispered soft, soothing words in his ear. He was vaguely aware of apologizing for the buffeting that he got as Steve was forced forward by the explosion as the lab blew. He, also, remembered telling Bucky to hang on, that he'd get him patched up good as new in no time, that he just had to hang on a little longer.
Steve burst through the canvas flap of the tent that had been serving as a triage center and demanded a doctor. He'd never stopped to take in the effect that his uniform had on the general support staff but now he was glad that they jumped into action. Bucky was taken from him and put on a cot and two doctors started shouting orders at nurses and anyone fit enough to be able to bring them what they needed to patch up the boy in front of them. The fact that he had been wearing a German uniform didn't even make them flutter an eye.
It took a wheeze from the out-of-breath soldier beside him to snap his eyes away from his partner's prone form. Neither the scientist nor the soldier looked very well, but Steve couldn't really find it in his heart to feel sorry for them. Instead, he thanked the soldier through gritted teeth, trying to remember that the soldier had just reacted to what he'd seen - a Kraut soldier taking a punch and still standing - and tried to help, and led the scientist to one of the better holding tents. Brass would want to have a talk with him when they were free.
Steve was about to turn back towards the medical tent when he heard his code name. The need to stay with his partner warred briefly with the ever present weight of his duty. Allowing himself a sigh, he turned and snapped to attention. The dark look on the Colonel's face didn't bode well for Steve.
It was hours before he was free to visit his partner's bedside. There'd been no news, good or bad. It took every bit of courage it had for him to push aside the canvas and step inside the field hospital. He could see a nurse buzzing around Bucky's bedside checking the glass IV bottle and the rubber tubing. She saw Steve and smiled warmly, inviting him in. Steve forced himself to move closer to the bandaged boy in the bed. Normally so full of life and boundless energy, seeing Bucky like this was ... harrowing. His chest was barely moving and Steve could pick up a wet gurgle on every breath.
The nurse paused just long enough to let him know that the operation had been successful. They'd pulled the bullet out and patched him up as best they could. He'd be out of action for a while but the surgeons were confident he'd be good as new.
"Everyone had to make sacrifices." The Colonel had told him. "Calculated risk." He'd said, and it probably was. After all, what was the life of one eighteen year old kid against a victory in Europe, against the prevention of Hitler's latest scheme? He was lucky this time. He'd live. He'd have a heck of a scar but he'd live to make up an interesting - if far-fetched - tale to tell the gals at the next army social. But what about next time, or the time after that? Steve ran a hand over the cowl, forgetting for a moment that it was there.
He'd had countless conversations with Bucky before about getting him a safer post but Bucky would have none of it. His place was with Steve, watching his back and kicking Hitler in the teeth whenever he got the chance, or so he'd said. Maybe this would make Bucky reconsider his place in front of the front lines...
Bucky groaned as he moved. "Okay. 'm not doing that again until they give me the good stuff!"
Steve chuckled. "How you doin', buddy?"
Bucky looked around at the IV, the IV stand and down at the bandages that were stained red over his wound before turning his gaze to Steve. "I'm good. Never better. Just a ploy to pick up the hot nurses. You know me!"
"Yeah." Steve nodded. "Yeah."
Silence fell between the friends.
"Cap~"
"Buck~"
They both started at once and then paused to let the other speak.
"You go first." Steve broke the silence.
Bucky nodded and spoke. "Cap, I knew the risks and well... I'd prefer not to get the 'deskjob' speech again." Bucky closed his eyes as pain related nausea rocked through him.
Steve put a hand on Bucky's arm. "Don't... You don't have to..."
"No, Cap, I gotta." Bucky replied, quietly. "I was supposed to be out of there hours before your attack but thinks went... Well, let's just say that the German version of FUBAR is just as annoying. Couldn't get the Doc out until you guys provided a little cover and even then... It was messy."
Steve nodded.
"I knew the risks of wearing a German uniform in the middle of an Allied attack but heck; I was just out of practice ducking. The Jerries can't shoot for beans." Bucky laughed but instantly regretted it. "But sometimes there are times when you just gotta bite the bullet and hope it doesn't bite back."
Steve could recognize the sentiment but it didn't mean that he was happy about it. But he was right, in one regard at least. Sitting by Bucky's bedside, in his star-spangled uniform, was definitely not the best time for this discussion. Steve could wait until he was up and about again. He figured that in the long run, it didn't matter where or when the discussion happened, the outcome would be the same.
Captain America needed Bucky more than Steve needed James safe. Fact of life. But that didn't mean that Steve wouldn't do everything he could to make sure that Bucky always came home safe. After all, that's what friends did, wasn't it?
Author: Bon
Prompt: 616 | Captain America, Bucky | Gen | WWII. Necessary gambles.
Rating: 12
Word count: 2,374
Disclaimer: The characters and settings featured in this story are the property of Marvel Entertainment. This is a work of homage and no copyright infringement is intended.
Warnings: Minimal cursing, depictions of violence, subject matter concerns events from World War II, military slang (minimal but present)
Author's notes: I've tried to make his as non slashy as possible and still just a friendship. Hopefully the closeness of Steve and Bucky's relationship comes across. Hope you enjoy the fic.
Thanks to
aramuin for the beta. All mistakes are mine.
~#~#~
"Hold the line, boys. Just another couple of minutes." Captain America whisper-shouted down the line. "Don't worry! There'll be enough Jerries left for you to deal with when we get the go signal!"
The small group of soldiers with him nodded, trusting him enough to believe what he said. He'd worked with their like before and knew how to deal with their pre-battle nerves and itchy trigger fingers. He understood that they were eager to jump from their hiding places and vault the barricades to bring justice to the Nazis running the camp. It was only a small troop of men who were going to use the element of surprise to sneak up on the enemy from behind their own lines and maybe give the rest of the Americans slightly better odds. Good men, all, and good fighters too.
He could recognize the pre-battle jitters in himself, worry about the men and boys called to service. He recognized and needed to get a handle on them before they got the better of him. Captain America turned to go over his plan with his young partner only to find himself looking at the grizzled veteran beside him. He cursed himself. That was the third time he'd done that tonight.
'Damnit Steve, get your head back in the game.' Steve berated himself. 'He's living the fine life, wining and dining the ladies, no doubt. He'd laugh to see my head out of game over something so simple.'
"Gone Fishin'" was what the note tucked under Bucky's pillow had said. A private code to let Steve know that the Brass had another role, a more secret one, for Bucky to play during the upcoming engagement. Course, there was no clue as to what that plan had been, nor would there be until Bucky mysteriously reappeared at the mess tomorrow or the day after. Brass was never quite good enough to share the secret before dragging you off. Steve just hoped that the kid was keeping his head down wherever he was.
"C Company, go, go, go." The voice over the radio crackled, drawing Steve from his thoughts.
"You heard 'em, boys. Give 'em Hell." Steve shouted, as he drew himself up.
Seconds later, he was over the barbed wire barricades and already neck deep in German soldiers. Ducking and diving, he gave the German soldiers more than a run for their money as he crashed through their defenses. Shots rang out but Steve neatly deflected them with his shield. He wouldn't see any of his boys fall to enemy fire. Not if he could help it, at least. They'd be on their own soon enough.
It didn't take long to get past the last German defender on this side of the camp. He took a moment to take stock of where he was. Barracks to the left of him, laboratory to his right. Right on target. With a salute to the guys he'd sat in the trench with, Captain America hefted his shield a little, making sure it was secure. He moved through the shadows until his back was tight against the laboratory wall. He took a steadying breath and slid along the wall, ever watchful for a stray guard or deserting soldier.
A firm kick splintered the door and sent it clattering down the hallway. Steve was quick to follow, not wanting anyone to get the drop on him or have too long to react. But there wasn't even an echo of a footstep. He stopped, now more cautious. Something about this seemed off to him. Could be a trap. Wouldn't be the first time the Germans had tried to sucker punch him. But damed if they were going to pull a fast one on him.
If the Brass were right, this lab was supposed to be the hub of research into a German version of the super serum, but so far, there'd been nothing approaching the level of security that Steve had expected. Perhaps they'd already upped sticks and moved the facility. Perhaps everything was waiting to crash down on him when he got to the heart of the facility. But one thing was for sure, Steve wasn't going to be taking anything for granted.
He was thankful for the soft soles on his bootsas he picked his way through the rubble of the door and further into the building. Keeping close to the wall, he flicked glances in both directions. Last thing he wanted was a couple of extra ventilation holes where they didn't belong. A scuffle behind him made him look back towards the doorway, only to see one of his own men behind him, just inside the door, the one that had been beside him in the trench, the veteran. The soldier nodded his head at Steve. Steve frowned under the mask. He hadn't expected the soldier to follow him but was damned glad that he had. Someone had his back. It was a reassuring feeling. Steve turned back to the task at hand.
Just at the edge of his hearing range, Steve could hear whispered German. He crept closer to the end of the corridor and peeked around the corner. He could see a Jerry soldier leading a white coated figure towards him. Well, not towards him specifically, but towards where he was. So nice of the Germans to deliver his objective to him. He'd have to write the soldier a nice thank you card. Steve allowed himself a small smile. It seemed that he was picking up Bucky's habit of quipping in the face of the enemy.
"Schnell, bitte, haben wir nicht viel Zeit."
Worrying words that set Steve on edge. Why didn't they have much time? Was the facility set to blow? Steve pulled back from the corner just far enough that he would be in prime position to grab the scientist and put the soldier down quickly.
He measured their steps, hardly daring to draw breath. Closer, closer. Just a little bit closer.
As soon as Steve saw the flash of white in his vision, he reached out and pulled the scientist free of the grip of the German soldier. He felt the impact as the man hit the wall with a little more force than he'd wanted. He'd deal with that in a minute. First things first. Steve raised his shield, already swinging to knock out the guard.
Blue eyes met familiar brown eyes and Steve struggled to stop his fist's momentum. Bucky's hand shot up, stopping the punch from hitting him. Steve rocked backwards, off balance after pulling the punch. He opened his mouth to say something but the sound of a shot being fired drowned out any sound that he made. Steve had the shield in front of him in a second as he moved to block the scientist from harm. He looked around, scanning for the source of the sound. His eyes fell on the soldier in the doorway. The soldier whose M1 rifle was pointed at him. Steve paused. No, not at him. At the German soldier he'd been fighting with. At Bucky.
"Stand down, soldier." Steve was shouting even as he was turning to see if Bucky had been hit.
Time slowed to a crawl, or seemed to. Bucky was looking down at his hand and the bright red liquid on it. Confused, he raised his head to look up at Steve. Steve wasn't quick enough to support him before his knees wobbled but was there when the muscles finally gave up and he collapsed. Steve cradled him as he brought him down to the floor. Bucky was shot and it was bad. Bad enough to knock the lad off his feet. Bad enough that there was no ready comeback except confusion.
Steve could hear the soldier coming closer asking if he was okay but Steve couldn't bring himself to answer the man. At least not until there was a hand on his shoulder.
"Grab the scientist and don't let go of him until we're out of here." Steve growled the words out.
The soldier nodded and took the scared scientist by the arm, waiting for Steve's lead. Steve tenderly picked Bucky up and whispered soft, soothing words in his ear. He was vaguely aware of apologizing for the buffeting that he got as Steve was forced forward by the explosion as the lab blew. He, also, remembered telling Bucky to hang on, that he'd get him patched up good as new in no time, that he just had to hang on a little longer.
Steve burst through the canvas flap of the tent that had been serving as a triage center and demanded a doctor. He'd never stopped to take in the effect that his uniform had on the general support staff but now he was glad that they jumped into action. Bucky was taken from him and put on a cot and two doctors started shouting orders at nurses and anyone fit enough to be able to bring them what they needed to patch up the boy in front of them. The fact that he had been wearing a German uniform didn't even make them flutter an eye.
It took a wheeze from the out-of-breath soldier beside him to snap his eyes away from his partner's prone form. Neither the scientist nor the soldier looked very well, but Steve couldn't really find it in his heart to feel sorry for them. Instead, he thanked the soldier through gritted teeth, trying to remember that the soldier had just reacted to what he'd seen - a Kraut soldier taking a punch and still standing - and tried to help, and led the scientist to one of the better holding tents. Brass would want to have a talk with him when they were free.
Steve was about to turn back towards the medical tent when he heard his code name. The need to stay with his partner warred briefly with the ever present weight of his duty. Allowing himself a sigh, he turned and snapped to attention. The dark look on the Colonel's face didn't bode well for Steve.
It was hours before he was free to visit his partner's bedside. There'd been no news, good or bad. It took every bit of courage it had for him to push aside the canvas and step inside the field hospital. He could see a nurse buzzing around Bucky's bedside checking the glass IV bottle and the rubber tubing. She saw Steve and smiled warmly, inviting him in. Steve forced himself to move closer to the bandaged boy in the bed. Normally so full of life and boundless energy, seeing Bucky like this was ... harrowing. His chest was barely moving and Steve could pick up a wet gurgle on every breath.
The nurse paused just long enough to let him know that the operation had been successful. They'd pulled the bullet out and patched him up as best they could. He'd be out of action for a while but the surgeons were confident he'd be good as new.
"Everyone had to make sacrifices." The Colonel had told him. "Calculated risk." He'd said, and it probably was. After all, what was the life of one eighteen year old kid against a victory in Europe, against the prevention of Hitler's latest scheme? He was lucky this time. He'd live. He'd have a heck of a scar but he'd live to make up an interesting - if far-fetched - tale to tell the gals at the next army social. But what about next time, or the time after that? Steve ran a hand over the cowl, forgetting for a moment that it was there.
He'd had countless conversations with Bucky before about getting him a safer post but Bucky would have none of it. His place was with Steve, watching his back and kicking Hitler in the teeth whenever he got the chance, or so he'd said. Maybe this would make Bucky reconsider his place in front of the front lines...
Bucky groaned as he moved. "Okay. 'm not doing that again until they give me the good stuff!"
Steve chuckled. "How you doin', buddy?"
Bucky looked around at the IV, the IV stand and down at the bandages that were stained red over his wound before turning his gaze to Steve. "I'm good. Never better. Just a ploy to pick up the hot nurses. You know me!"
"Yeah." Steve nodded. "Yeah."
Silence fell between the friends.
"Cap~"
"Buck~"
They both started at once and then paused to let the other speak.
"You go first." Steve broke the silence.
Bucky nodded and spoke. "Cap, I knew the risks and well... I'd prefer not to get the 'deskjob' speech again." Bucky closed his eyes as pain related nausea rocked through him.
Steve put a hand on Bucky's arm. "Don't... You don't have to..."
"No, Cap, I gotta." Bucky replied, quietly. "I was supposed to be out of there hours before your attack but thinks went... Well, let's just say that the German version of FUBAR is just as annoying. Couldn't get the Doc out until you guys provided a little cover and even then... It was messy."
Steve nodded.
"I knew the risks of wearing a German uniform in the middle of an Allied attack but heck; I was just out of practice ducking. The Jerries can't shoot for beans." Bucky laughed but instantly regretted it. "But sometimes there are times when you just gotta bite the bullet and hope it doesn't bite back."
Steve could recognize the sentiment but it didn't mean that he was happy about it. But he was right, in one regard at least. Sitting by Bucky's bedside, in his star-spangled uniform, was definitely not the best time for this discussion. Steve could wait until he was up and about again. He figured that in the long run, it didn't matter where or when the discussion happened, the outcome would be the same.
Captain America needed Bucky more than Steve needed James safe. Fact of life. But that didn't mean that Steve wouldn't do everything he could to make sure that Bucky always came home safe. After all, that's what friends did, wasn't it?