Prompt: Steve was only ever shot once during the war. It was by Dugan, on accident, in the butt.
0800. That's when they were expected at the next rendezvous point and they had more miles than hours left to go. It would be close. Peggy would be there, Steve knew, and he distracted himself with surveying their surroundings to keep from smiling too wide and earning a well-meaning catcall from the Commandos.
He came up short just before a clearing, nearly stumbling into it when someone bumped into him from behind. "Watch where you're going, Dugan." He whispered.
Dugan shrugged, tossing Steve a good-natured grin. "Sorry, Cap. Was busy polishing off the rest of my scotch." He leaned in conspiratorially. "Seein' as we'll see Peg in a couple'a hours, I might as well make room for a new bottle in my pack."
Steve gave a nod. "Right." He turned their group east to circumvent the clearing. It seemed empty, but that didn't mean it was.
It was another two hours before the stars and moon started to pale. It would be another hour before the sun began to peek over the horizon and one more after that before it permeated the dense forest. Two more after that and they would be at their checkpoint, Dugan would have his scotch, and Steve would see Peggy.
As such, they had come around the last of the range and were beginning a slow descent. It was hard, in the snow and the dim, dim light of the fading moon. Dugan needed to be shushed frequently. The scotch had gone to his head, of course, and he was making whispered jokes and, from the sound of things, cleaning his gun.
Steve heard it long before he felt it, mostly because of the sheer terror that gripped him at the thought of their location being known for miles around. And then he felt it. Excruciating pain, and cold. Blood on the ground. From behind him. From the area of his left butt cheek.
"Well shit." Dugan sounded horrified and trying to hold in a giggling fit at the same time.
"…You shot me in the ass." Steve tried to sound angry and authoritative, but mostly he sounded strained.
Dugan held up an index finger, as if he were about to impart great wisdom. "I don't actually think Captain America is supposed to swear."
"Man, Peggy is going to kill you." Gabe had crouched next to Steve and was helping to staunch the bleeding while giving Steve someone to lean on before his knees buckled.
"…Well, shit." Dugan was all conviction, then.
They arrived shortly after 0800 and Steve, though in pain and wishing he could sit down, took immense pleasure in listening to Peggy berate Dugan. And deny him his bottle of scotch until the next checkpoint.
Steve readjusted the ice pack on his butt and was pretty sure, even with a bullet wound, he was having a better day than Dugan.