Okay. This is the start of the sires I talked about. Remember, if you have a request, just review or PM it to me. But please, no slash =/ and I'm not the best at romance (or maybe? Haven't gotten that many points there) but everything else is a go. AS long as it's about these guys in this time. So yeah, no Avengers, no Thor (or maybe?) but there will be name drops - you've seen some in 'War Front'.
Oh yeah. The time here? It's irrelevant. Noting's connected with anything (unless I SAY it is. I'll tell you before the story.) so it can be at anytime during the movie e... story. Whatever. Does that make sense? No? Yes? Ask me! I won't bite =3
And just so you know, I do read comics, so some stuff here (mostly about Barnes and Rogers) is actually true. Some. Not all.
This whole series/story will be on 'complete' because I can always end it or add more. It's... well, endless, so it's like that.
Another thing... SOME of the ... one shots I guess? will be expanded between multiple chapters (say... prank war?). Also note that some are going to be longer and others shorter - depends on the material, theme, time and complexity.
Oh and in case you don't know the 'War Front' story, stuff will be translated from other languages (German, French,...) by "*...*" so anything inside these * is translated. You'll get it when you see it :P
...I think that's all yeah-
So... I don't own anything (except the OCs you'll find every now and then... maybe?) and the grammar mistakes. Hope you enjoy ^^
Ch.1 How we met
It hasn't been all that long since they made the team. A week maybe. But they were already closer than family, as the Howlers joked about pretty much anything.
"So…" Steve asked as they played poker, with Bucky wining as usual.
"You never told me how you guys met," he looked at them, as they stopped their game and glanced at each other, a bit surprised by the question.
"Well… um… that's a story," Dugan held his breath and scratched the back of his head.
"We got time," Rogers got the feeling this is going to be interesting.
"Yeah… I wasn't even there…" Jim faked a hurt expression, but was right. They met him after Captain America saved them from the camp and they worked together outside.
"Excuse me, gentlemen?" Peggy spoke and stepped inside the barrack.
"Hey, Peg!" the Commandos greeted, some hoping they wouldn't have to explain as she arrived.
"Am I interrupting something?" she was a bit surprised by their joy of her arrival.
"No, no," everyone, except Steve and Jim, shook their heads.
"Actually, they were just about to tell me how they met in the POW camp," Cap smiled and looked at her as she seemed amused, while the others groaned.
"Why are you here?" Jones tried to change the subject.
"Colonel Phillips sent me to check on you," Carter grinned and took her seat.
"I'd also love to hear this."
"So okay… the first thing we should mention is… we weren't exactly friends when we first saw each other," Dum Dum scratched his cheek, looking at the others.
"Yes… it was… a rough start to say the least," Monty looked at the floor in memory.
"Do you know why the Reich is destined to win this war, Corporal?" one of POW warden – Lohmer - asked as he stood on a bridge, looking downwards where new prisoners were gathered.
"Surely the advance arsenal developed here by HYDRA will turn the tide in our favor, Colonel Lohmer," one of the guards answered, looking up as he lined the prisoners up.
"Oh that helps – make no doubt that helps. But it only speeds the inevitable," the Colonel smirked watching as other guards did their work.
"Prisoners #49275. This way Monty," the guard pushed Lieutenant Falsworth forward, towards a cell.
"Prisonnier#03691. Venz Ici," another grabbed Caporal Dernier and pushed him along with the Brit.
"In your kennel, you dogs," the two were motioned to a cage.
"The Reich shall win because we are unified. In both blood and purpose. While our enemies…" Lohmer smirked, watching the show that was about to unfold.
"…are the polyglot peasants of Europe and the mongrel masses of North America. You see then, the genius of splitting up prisoners by nationality when they arrive," the two new POWs were shoved into the cage and saw there were already three people there.
There was a big one, mustache and a big hat. Another one looked like death and kept coughing. The last was black and seemed to be looking the two over.
"Dugan. Me and Jimmy here were with the fighting Irish of the 69th. New York freaking city. Hope you don't got a problem with that," the big one said as soon as the doors closed.
"Jones Macon Georgia. 92nd infantry. All black all proud," the other healthy man explained.
"Falsworth. Of the Birmingham Falsworths. That's in England," the Brit held his head high.
"Yeah, thanks. Your nose scrapping the ceiling kinda gave it away," Dugan rolled his eyes.
"Dernier. My people were resisting Nazi occupiers in Marseilles," Jacques nodded.
"Hey Jones," Timothy grinned.
"What's that Dugan?" the said man didn't turn to look at him.
"You know how many Frenchmen it takes do defend Paris?" at those words, most of them in the cell knew where it was going. Most. But not all.
"How many?" Gabe kept his eyes on Dernier.
"I dunno. They've never tried," at that, you could see the anger in the Frenchman's eyes as an all-out brawl erupted – the two new comers against the two friends.
From the back, Jimmy managed to get to his feet, trying to stop the fighting.
"You guys are idiots!" he hissed, coughing up as he could hardly stand.
"He started it!" James frowned and grabbed Jones by the arm.
"I was just saying what's true," Dugan ducked under a punch.
"Stop it!" Jimmy threw himself between the four, getting hit in the ribs by accident, before falling to his knees, going into a coughing fit.
"Jimmy!" the two Americans quickly ceased the fight and went to help their friend.
"What's wrong with him?" the other two, for the moment, forgot what happened when they thought the man might throw his lungs out.
"We don't know… but he's been bad since we got here," Timothy explained, helping the man sit down and patting him on the back, trying to ease his pain.
"…idiots..." after he finished, Jimmy managed to speak, although his throat was killing him.
"Hey, hey… take it easy," Gabe forced the kid to stay put.
"…we ain't… gonna live… if you guys… kill each other… that's the… Nazi's job…" he muttered, holding his chest and taking a few deep breaths.
"…He's right… I'm sorry," the giant closed his eyes, stood up and offered a hand to Jacques.
"…As long as you don't mention it again," the Frenchman smiled tightly but took the hand.
"So… what do we do here?" Falsworth asked as they all calmed down and sat in the cage.
"We work. They wake us up nice and early, force us to work, even if you're down a leg," Dugan shook his head and looked at Jimmy.
"They're forcing him to work too. It's hell…" he added as they shared a look and a frown.
"Are you planning for any escape?" Monty asked, looking at the two.
"Some have tried but failed. It's almost impossible getting out of here alive," Jones sighed.
"So what? Just go with it?" Dernier locked his jaw.
"For now… but we will get out of here…" the assurance of their words made the two believe.
"How many are there anyway?" the Brit raised an eyebrow.
"About 400… maybe more maybe less… A lot either way," Jimmy closed his eyes.
"And… there's one more thing you need to know," the two Americans looked at the newcomers.
"If you're lucky, they'll only kick you when the selection starts," the giant swallowed.
"Selection?" the two looked confused.
"Yeah… there's some guy here that takes a prisoner every so often… supposedly he experiments on them – tries to do who-knows-what but no one's ever lived to tell about it," Jones frowned.
"I see… so if you're unlucky, you get picked… wonderful…" Monty let out a breath.
"Alright you filthy dogs! Get to work," one of the guards came and hit their cage with a stick, smirking before opening it. They didn't all stand up quickly, as Barnes was sick, so they had to wait for him.
"Still alive? I guess I win," the guard smirked as the others glared at him.
"Move it filth!" he hissed as the left the cell and went to their work place. It has been almost three weeks since they were here and have pretty much became the best of pals.
Dugan, Jones and now Falsworth were told to fill the missiles and move them along, while Dernier and Jimmy had to transport the casings.
"Damn warden… I'd love to see how he works with this," Dugan thought as he filled the missile.
"The new guys are nice… but man; our cell hasn't been picked…" Jones gulped, but shook his head.
"I wonder if the others are alright…" Monty fiddled with the missile.
There were guards everywhere you look, and they didn't allow much talking.
"Oh man… this is bad…" Jimmy thought as he drove the trolley, looking down and coughing. He didn't even see Jacques in fort of him or hear his: "Américain – look ou-" before they crashed.
"Dummkopf," a guard hissed, coming closer as Barnes held his side, coughing fiercely.
"Sorry about that Fritzie –cough- can't quite shake this damn –cough-" he knew he had to get up. Try and make sure he was fine and see if he could live through this.
"I think I caught –cough- pneumonia on the battlefield. You wouldn't happen to have a doctor -cough- a doctor in this dump- cough-" he couldn't look up as Fritzie came closer.
"We do," the German said, picking up one of the shelling before slamming it down at Barnes, hitting him hard in the head: "I am him," he added before continuing to hit him.
"Jimmy! You dirty-!" Dugan hissed, planning to help, but was restrained by the guards.
"And this is the cure to what ails you!" Fritzie smirked and smacked Barnes' back as the prisoner continued to cough and bleed from the wounds.
It was about a minute later, when the casing was already bent, that the HYDRA man frowned, spit on the ground near Jimmy and told the guards to get him and his 'pals' to a cell.
"Well, I'd say it's walking pneumonia… except contusions and broken ribs have taken care of the 'walking' part," Jones said as he checked Barnes over as best he could. He was no doctor.
"That bastard Lohman won't even think twice about it! He gives slaver drivers a bad name," Dugan hissed, biting his lip and shaking his head.
"Kleiber has morning shift – he at least is partly human," Dernier didn't know what to do.
"But then Lohman comes on the floor at noon! He'll drag Jimmy outta here, and then he's kaput!" the giant clenched his fist and looked at the Frenchman.
"Hold on…" Monty stopped before the giant started something again.
"Dernier… you were an explosives expert with the Partisans, right?" Falsworth asked.
"Oui," Jacques didn't know what this was about.
"And you're on shell duty tomorrow again, right Dugan? Can you knick some of that gunpowder," the giant looked a bit surprised.
"Five-finger discount's what landed me in Juvenile Hall, Monty," Tim crossed his arms on his chest.
"Good. And you have the power cells yes, Jones?" the Brit turned down.
"So?" Gabe was as confused as the others.
"My specialty in the brigade was strategy. I think we can take care of Lohman once and for all… but it will require us working in tandem," Monty seemed a bit skeptical.
"Why Lord Falsworth – what took you so long to ask?" Gabe grinned, knowing now what it means.
"So… you all know the plan?" Monty asked, looking at the others.
"Yeah," they nodded as the last person coughed.
"I hope this works…" Jimmy groaned as he tried to sleep, but that was impossible.
"It'll work," they assured him before the guards arrived and got them ready.
"Und du?" one asked, looking at Jimmy.
"He's too sick to work… didn't you see the beating he got yesterday?" Dugan raised an eyebrow.
"…Ja… Get to work," when they were out, the cell was closed and the prisoners got to work.
As they started, they made sure to keep an eye out on the guards. They needed to be patient. If they mess anything up, then they're all dead. And they didn't really want that. It was about three hours in, when the guards weren't really paying attention anymore, than they went into action.
Falsworth was the main man, and first up was Dugan. He drove the trolley down the line, letting out a cough, giving the giant a signal.
Timothy carefully picked up a piece of paper where he had hidden the gunpowder. He used one arm to just hand it to the back, not even turning around.
Taking the paper, Monty made his way down where Jones was. There was already a bottle of gas and the Brit carefully and casually picked it up before continuing. He could see Jacques.
"Here you are," he handed the Frenchman the paper and bottle.
"And for God's sake, don't blow yourself up," he added, looking the man in the eye.
"Naturellement," Dernier grinned, nodded and made his way up the bridge, acting as if he had work.
"Kleiber – I don't see that clumsy oaf #56895," Lohman threw his arms in the air.
"He is very sick Herr Lohmer, incapable of work-" Kleiber explained but was cut short.
"I'll be the judge of that, Lieutenant," the higher officers hissed.
All the while, Jacques was atop the two, spilling the gunpowder into the bottle, using a nail to make a spark and making some very hot liquid. Leaning over the fence, he poured the containment on the hook of a crane, which was operated by Monty.
"That lazy good-for-nothing will die at his post if he has to! I'll drag him out his cell myself…" Lohman yelled, arms in the air and moving to a pile of old, rusted equipment.
"Let's go Britisher! We need that scrap across the floor now! Schnell!" Kleiber motioned to the pile.
"Right-o Lt. Kleiber sir," the Brit saluted and started he crane.
As he operated it and moved it 'across the floor' which just so happened to be where Lohman was walking under, the hot liquid Dernier put on the chain of the hook ate the metal and cracked the chain. The scrap he was transporting fell right atop the German, as his scream echoed in the factory, while the three men looked pleased with their work. Maybe they could be a team? Guards arrived as others looked in shock and joy, finally being rid of the bastard.
"Hey – hey Jimmy," Dugan couldn't stop smiling, even when they were back in their cell.
"That creeper Lohman won't be bothering you – or anyone else no more," he just had to tell him.
"They can't tell it wasn't anything other than old equipment, so we just gotto go without rations for a week," he added, the doors closing behind him.
"It was so worth it, just to hear the bastard howl Jimmy-boy," the giant grinned.
"Blast it Dugan, you Dum-Dum! How many time do I gotto tell you- no one - I mean no one, calls me Jimmy."
"Your mama named you James didn't she?" Dum Dum raised an eyebrow.
"James Buchanan Barnes! That's why they call me Bucky," Jimmy shook his head and sighed.
Translations:
Venz Ici - Come here
Dummkopf - Fool
Und du? - And you?
Naturellement - Naturally
Schnell - Quickly
That's it for the first one! I'll be posting these when ever I get a new idea or request. So that means, it won't be daily or any other kind of patters. It'll be random. And please, if you sent a request, don't be pushy. I might already have a few... And if I can't (or won't) make the request, be it by a member or guest, I'll let you know. Please don't kill me for that.
Hope you enjoyed, and if you did, leave a review. See you next time ^^