Chapter 4: Rescue of the 107th

When Steve got the news that he would be heading for the front to entertain the troops, he had a mixed reaction. 1) He was actually going where he wanted the most, and 2) he was not going to be commanding any troops and he was going as a glorified chorus girl. He didn't think that he would get a good reaction from the troops that had seen combat. He thought it was a bit of a waste of time and effort to put him there, when he was not wanted or needed. The fact that he was going was the only solace that he had for the whole affair. Steve was an optimist at heart, and tried to look at the bright side of things, as he sat on the ship's deck looking out at the waves. For a long moment he thought about what good could come from him being on the front lines. He couldn't think of anything for a long moment so he stood up and went indoors. He sat down with the girls in the galley to have lunch, and heard the Captain talking with his first mate. Steve couldn't help it if he overheard anything; the serum had fixed his hearing and made it really sensitive. He could hear a lot better than a normal person and darn near as well as an Elf, so it was a plus; but in situations like this, it tended to be a nuisance.

The skipper and his first mate were discussing their port of call, where he and the girls would disembark and take a different ship to England and from there a plane to Italy. In between that would be shows in London and a few large towns along the way, but this was the first time he was hearing about where they would get off the ship. His mouth dropped open in shock; Ireland, they were landing in Ireland. Steve had always wanted to see the land of his parents; where they came from. Steve smiled bright and wide at the thought. He wouldn't be there long, just an afternoon until they get to the next boat to ferry them across; but it will be long enough that they will be having supper before they leave.

One of the dancing girls giggled at his bright smile, and Steve blushed. All these months later and he would still blush and fumble around a pretty girl. The serum's effects on his body gave him confidence to stand on stage and preform before hundreds of people, but one on one with a pretty girl and he was scrawny little Steve Rogers again; not Captain America. The girls had all tried to, well, seduce him, but that ended pretty quick, when he said the wrong thing and made one of them mad. He was horrible with women, and they all knew it. After a while he became endeared to them. He was like the shy little brother they never had, and they all made it their personal mission to protect Steve from hussies and Gold Diggers. They saw Steve as a sweet innocent young man that didn't need a fast woman chasing after him.

Once the ship docked, Steve looked around the area with a slight bit of disappointment. It looked like New York in a way, but it had a slight difference that he would not have noticed if he wasn't looking. With a sigh, he picked up his bags and went to board the bus that would take them to the train station. Steve wanted to see more of the land of his family, but that was further north and inland than they were going. Steve and the girls were packed in tight in the bus, and Steve had to keep his eyes glued to the visor of the bus, so he wouldn't see something he wasn't meant to. He stayed like that for over an hour, and by the time they had reached the train station, Steve was beat red from embarrassment. He bolted from the bus with his bags and all but ran to the train car where he would be staying for the remainder of the trip; no stopping until they reached the ferry, and Steve was a little glad for it. He hoped the trip to Europe wasn't as uncomfortable as the bus ride.

Once he was on the train, Steve put his bags out of the way and slumped down into his seat. He huffed out a long slow breath of relief to finally be a lone, before his peace was disturbed by an older man coming into the car and sitting down in front of him. Steve straightened his posture and took out his sketchbook to draw. The old man was interesting and would make a good subject of one of his portrait life studies. He had a long white beard and a very grandfatherly face; he was a bit gaunt looking from age and his fair skin was browned and leathered from long hard days in the sun. His eyes were still a sharp cheerful blue and he seemed to have a smile on his face. He wore a jockey cap on his head and a nice jacket that had patches here and there on the sleeves and hems. He looked friendly, and might have even been handsome, back when he was young. Steve started drawing and sketching, and didn't even notice the old man looking at him intently. He leaned on his old cane and leaned forward to get a better look at Steve. When Steve glanced up to get some details, he saw the old man staring. Steve blushed and looked back at his study.

"Sorry," he said with a blush at being caught sketching the man. The old man smiled and waved his hand.

"'Tis no trouble at all, my dear boy," he said, and boy was his Irish brogue thick. It was flitting and gravely, but still light in spite of it. Steve went back to his sketch and the man took an even closer look at him before opening his mouth again. "An American?" he asked and Steve looked up in confusion.

"I'm sorry?" he asked.

"Are you an American?" the old man asked again. It dawned on Steve and he smiled.

"Oh! Yeah," he said with a slight blush. "Yeah, I'm an American." The old man nodded to himself with a satisfied smile. This seemed to appease the man's curiosity for a while, until he looked at Steve again.

"Conscripted?" he asked and Steve looked back again with wide curious eyes. Steve smiled again.

"No," he answered, "no. I'm enlisted." The old man pursed his lips and seemed to think on that for a moment.

"Hmm, too bad," he said, "had you pegged for a conscripted boy." Steve smiled big and bright at his words; all teeth and crinkled eyes.

"No, I volunteered," Steve said with a small bit of embarrassment. The man looked even more intently at Steve once he saw him smile. Steve looked back curiously. "What?"

"You look familiar," he said pursing his lips and thinking.

"Maybe I just got one of those faces," Steve says with a shrug.

"No," the man says, "it's not that. What's yer name, laddie?" Steve blushes at the breach of protocol. His mother would be so mad if she knew he didn't start a conversation with introducing himself.

"Sorry," he says and holds out his hand to shake, "Steve Rogers."

"Sean Donoghue," the old man says, as he takes Steve hand and shakes it; the man has a strong grip for someone his age. His eyebrows rise as Steve's name registers with him. "Your pop wouldn't happen to have been named Joseph Rogers, would he?" Steve smiles big and bright like his father and nods.

"Yeah," he says, "that's my Dad: Joseph Arathan Rogers, but his closest friends called him Joe." The old Sean's eyes light up like Christmas, and a bright and happy smile creases his face.

"I knew it!" he says smacking his leg. He looks down in memory and smiles. "Old Joe Rogers," he says wistfully, "I haven't heard that name in almost 30 years! Not since the riot drove him and his pretty young bride out of their manor in '14. Them's was hard times, those days, laddie. Made even harder by those no good ruffians sturrin' up trouble and inciting riots to drive the Numenorean's out of their homes and property." The old man shakes his head in disgust.

"Manor? Riots?" Steve asks. "My parents told me that they had to leave Ireland; that they got into some trouble with some new group called The Irish Republican Army. My Ma never mentioned any riots." Steve is confused; what this man is telling him doesn't fit with what his mother told him. The old man Sean shakes his head understandingly.

"It wouldn't surprise me, if they never told ya the truth," he said. "Those were dark days, my lad; and even darker times." The man leans back in his seat and Steve scoots forward to the edge of his seat in preparation for a long story. Sean takes out an old wooden pipe from his jacket and begins to stuff it with pipe tobacco. Once finished he clenches it in his teeth and begins his tale. "In that year there was a group starting out calling itself the Irish Republican Army. Feh!" he laughs in derision. "Republican Army my foot; they were a group of no good upstarts and scoundrels riling people up for no good reason. Anyway, your father, Joe, had a brother named Andrew; oh and he was a scoundrel himself, if there ever was one. He had joined the IRA hoping to find a name for himself away from his elder brother. Well, in '14 some group had infiltrated the IRA and started whisperin' lies about the Numenoreans keeping them all under their thumbs; causin' the famine, and stuff like that: nonsense. Well, a few hundred people bought the lies and started whipping up trouble for the Numenoreans. It got so bad that quite a few up and left their great big estates and fled into the hills. The Rogers house lasted the longest. Your father was a stubborn one, he was." Steve smiled and nodded. Sean struck a match and lit his pipe, taking a few puffs before continuing. "I remember it so well that night: the sky had darkened early in the day with the promise of rain. And rain it did! It poured all night, and into the morning! Andrew had been running with this crowd and heard what they were going to do. Old Joe was already packin' his and his wife's things away. I'd heard that they were gonna flee the country; take what they could and run. It wasn't like Joseph to do that, so I didn't believe a word.

"Andrew came to his brother and warned him of the mob comin' for him and his wife. Joe took his wife, a few things and he ran. And as his brother; for the first time in his life, he did somethin' right: he stalled the mob as long as he could, and gave his brother time to escape. Andrew saved their lives, laddie; saved the House of Rogers from being destroyed." Sean smiled and puffed on his pipe contentedly.

Steve sits gob smacked, staring at the old man. He had heard from his parents that it had been hard right before they came to America, but never had they said it was this hard: driven out of their home by an angry mob incited by bad men, and forced to live a life of poverty and sickness. Steve thought long and hard about the way his father spoke of Andrew Rogers, his long dead uncle, and found that the fondness and love mixed with irritation and despair fit with what Sean had told him.

"You mentioned a manor," Steve said after a moment. "Were the Rogers family wealthy?" Sean laughed around his pipe merrily and pulled it out of his teeth to answer.

"Wealth, he asks!" he laughed, "oh, my boyo, the Rogers were said to be richer than the King of England once! They were Lords of the Numenoreans, Lad; great and powerful lords. 'Twas said that they were the first born house of a man named Arthadan. Numenoreans consider the house of Rogers to be the royal line of Numenor, and their rightful kings." The old man continued to laugh and chortle, while Steve slumped back into his seat in shock. He had never thought that he was a prince. He felt like he was meant for more than what they had him doing, but a prince! It was absurd, and fantastical and totally insane! But the more he thought about it the more it made some bit of sense. Before he could ask more about his family from the old man, Steve's stomach reminded him that he hadn't had anything to eat in a while. Steve blushed and excused himself to go get a meal. "No need to be sorry, lad. It's good to have a healthy appetite," Sean said when Steve stood up.

After Steve had eaten his fill, a very large amount of food that made the cook nearly cry for joy, he returned to the car and found that the old man was fast asleep. Not wanting to disturb the man's rest, Steve settled down in his seat and finished his drawing. Later when the train had stopped where they both got off, Steve said his goodbyes and thanked the old man for the history.

"Oh, it was no trouble at all, Stevie boy," he said cheerfully, "I am more than glad to share my stories to those that will listen. It was a gift to see Old Joe Rogers' eldest son. You look just like him, when you smile, lad; so keep smiling." Steve laughed and waved the old man away before boarding his own ferry to head for England.

Panic, sheer bloody panic, is the only thing running through his mind, when he hears that Bucky has been captured or killed. He knows; he just knows that Bucky is still alive. He can't be a chorus girl anymore, not with Bucky's life on the line. He needs to do something, anything to get Bucky out of there. He thanks God for what must be the hundredth time for the Serum, when he looks at the map and memorizes it. Steve has always had a good memory, but after the serum it was like he couldn't forget things if he stared at them for more than a few seconds. He always thought it would be nice to have perfect recall on memories, and in a way it is nice, but it can also be a bit of a curse. He can't forget that Erskine died and he couldn't save him.

When he'd got to Italy, he was fresh off a tour in England and feeling pretty good about what he was doing. The men's reactions to him on the stage and the blatant displeasure they'd showed to him, well, it was a wakeup call that he'd sorely needed. Sure he felt pretty lousy and irritated at their treatment of him, but, when he took a good look at himself from their perspective, he was just an upstart Captain that was untried in combat; and he was treating them like the kids back home. Peggy was just what he had needed at the moment; all frank and no nonsense. She didn't mince words with him; she just told him the facts. It wasn't her fault that she didn't know Bucky was in the 107th. Hardly anyone in the SSR knew about his life before the project; they didn't care. Peggy seemed to, but she was a spy; it was her job to fake things. Col. Philips was gruff and no nonsense in a different way. He made his displeasure about him well known from the beginning. But at this point, Steve doesn't care. He is tired of being pushed and pulled by people that don't know a thing about him. He doesn't want to be a dancing monkey anymore.

When Peggy tells him that she can help, he is more than glad. He didn't think that the jeep would have lasted all the way to Austria. The fact that it is Stark flying the plane is another matter entirely. Stark is mad and a genius all at once. When he first saw him at the Expo, he had no idea what to think of him. Science and all that future stuff was Bucky's thing, not his. At the Brooklyn facility, he barely talked to Stark before the procedure, and after, the man was too busy with going over the HYDRA tech to bother talking to him. Steve has no clue what to expect of him, when Stark takes him up to rescue the men at Krausberg.

He is looking around the plane in wonder and no small amount of respect. Howard Stark had built everything he had from the ground up, that garnered him respect from Steve. What he didn't quite get was why he was such a party boy. It wasn't his place to judge so he didn't. He turned his attention to Peggy as she stared to brief him on the mission.

"The HYDRA camp is in Krausberg," she said while pointing to the map, "Tucked between these two mountain ranges; it's a factory of some kind." That gives Steve more information that he believes will be important. A factory has workers, and if HYRDA is taking soldiers alive, then they might be using them to work the more dangerous jobs. Steve busies himself with preparing his chute so he doesn't think about what else could be happening in there. He's heard rumors coming down from up top, and he can't even comprehend the idea that the factory is one of those so-called "death Camps". Stark spoke up after Peggy and captured his attention.

"We should be able to drop you right on the doorstep," he said. Steve nodded and looked back at Peggy. He wondered when she became Peggy to him instead of just Agent Carter.

"Just get me as close as you can," Steve haulers back at him. He turns his attention back to Peggy and just says what's been nagging at his mind since they left. "You know, you two are gonna be in a lot of trouble when you land." He says and looks at her.

"And you won't?" she asks very frankly. It brings a wry smile to his face. He loads the clip into his gun and answers.

"Where I'm goin', if anybody yells at me, I can just shoot 'em," he says and smiles. Peggy raises her eyebrows in slight despair at his cocksure attitude, and reminds him that they will shoot back. Steve smiles again and taps the shield. "Well, let's hope it's good for somethin'." He says and once more he wishes he had a much better shield. Something strong and well made to protect him and others. He wonders for a moment if this is how many of his ancestors felt right before the start of battle: nervous, excited and scared all at once. Stark opening his mouth about a late night in Lucerne for something called "Fondue" makes him really wish he was a man of the world like Stark. Peggy looks at him awkwardly and he can't help but wonder what their relationship is.

"Stark is the best civilian pilot I've ever seen," she says. "He's mad enough to brave this airspace. We're lucky to have him." Steve is just itching to ask and he can't help it, when the stuttered question comes tumbling out before he can think it through.

"So are you two…" he starts awkwardly and tries again. "Do you…?" he can't even say the word. His mother drilled polite behavior around women into his skull for almost 18 years, so it makes it very hard to ask if Peggy is sleeping with Stark. Instead a safer word comes out, "Fondue?" Peggy's look of awkwardness and exasperation might be the answer he doesn't want, but here Peggy is all professional and hands him the transponder, telling him what to do. When he asks Stark if he is sure it works, Stark's response of it being tested more than him might be a jab at his inexperience in combat. Steve just hopes that he is the man for the job. When the plane starts being attacked, Steve grabs his things and makes for the rear hatch. Peggy tries to get him back but Steve knows it is too risky to go all the way in. "As soon as I'm clear, you turn this thing around and get the hell outta here!" he shouts to Peggy. He mentally prepares himself for the jump, just like in training. Peggy's response takes away his nerves for a second.

"You can't give me orders!" she shouts over the wind. Steve smiles at her irritation.

"The hell I can't!" he shouts back and looks at her. "I'm a Captain!" Steve smiles and dives out of the plane. As he dives, he is jumping for the first time into the history books, and into legend.

The factory is in complete chaos. The prisoners have escaped and are turning on the HYDRA soldiers. Arion realizes that this is his chance to escape in confusion and get away. First of all he will need a suitable disguise to blend in with the rioting workers. Arion hates to do it, but he has no other choice. There is a crematorium on the grounds, and the morgue is near enough to his quarters that he sneaks in and grabs the uniform off one of the dead soldiers. The man is a British officer close enough to his own build that the clothes fit. But they sag a little on his body; which is perfect, because it will help with the disguise. When he finishes dressing, he looks like a British soldier that hasn't had a decent meal in weeks, or a good bath in just as long. His regular uniform is underneath the clothes with the collar undone to hide it under the loose cloth. When he is sure that the look is perfect, rubbing his face and hair with soot and dirt to complete the look, he goes back to his quarters and grabs the recording devices. He stuffs them into his inner pockets, before bolting out the door towards the factory floor.

There are men dying left and right, but Arion runs for the open doors that lead to the outer courtyard and freedom. On his way out, he sees other prisoners taking guns from the HYDRA soldiers, and he grabs a pistol from one of the bodies as he runs. Once out past the doors, he sees the chaos more clearly and also sees that this is not just a revolt of the workers, but a coordinated escape with more than a little chaos thrown in. Arion spots some of the members of Bucky's unit causing the most damage, before he sees one of them climb into an armored vehicle with one of the HYDRA guns mounted on it. Arion knows that gun can cause the most damage, and shouts to Bucky's British cellmate to man the gun. Falsworth follows his orders without a second glance at him and Arion smiles to himself. 'At least the disguise works,' he thinks as he fires his pistol at one of the HYRDA soldiers. Arion watches and follows the stream of prisoners to the breach made by the gun.

A HYDRA soldier comes at him, and Arion shows him just exactly why you don't pick a fight with an elf; especially one of the Eldar of the Valinor. Arion makes a flying leap and launches himself at the man, grasping him by the neck with his legs and throwing him to the ground. There is a satisfying crunch, when the man's neck snaps under the strain and Arion is back on his feet like a cat. He pulls out the two knives he has managed to keep hidden from Schmidt and his goons, and starts going after the soldiers with a lethal grace that only a member of the Eldar can accomplish. He whirls and slashes his knives left and right, with grace and precision; always moving toward the breach and his ticket back to his real mission.

When he gets closer to the breach, he discards all forms of smooth grace for maximum lethality; his eyes never leaving his goal. Once he is through the makeshift gate, he turns, grabs a HYDRA weapon discarded on the ground and turns it on the soldiers. He is cold and efficient as he kills as many of the HYDRA soldiers carrying the weapons as he can see, before firing on the unused vehicles. Arion gives the escaping men a fighting chance to get to the woods and make a break for freedom; before he drops the gun, and follows them out; blending into the multitudes and masses, before making his break for it and heading towards the location of a dead-drop. Once there he will be debriefed and sent back to Hitler to continue his work gathering evidence for their final demise.

No one notices a missing British Major among the head count later, and it won't be until Steve and Bucky are debriefing with the others that the mysterious soldier with the flashing knives is missed. By then it is too late, and Arion is back with SIS for his debriefing and redeployment.

When Steve marches back into the camp with the rest of the Soldiers he rescued behind him, and Bucky at his side, he feels like has finally done something right. The look on everyone's faces is almost enough for the insubordination and AWOL charges he will brought up on to be worth it. He marches with purpose and, with his head held high, right up to Col Philips, and salutes him.

"Sir," he says, "Some of these men need medical Attention. I'd like to surrender myself for disciplinary action." Philips looks around at the men, and has the wherewithal to look ashamed before he signs.

"That won't be necessary," he says, and he can't seem to look him in the eye. Steve smiles softly and relaxes.

"Yes, sir," Steve replies softly. Peggy comes up to him and has a look of indecision on her face before she settles for reminding him that he is late. Steve smiles a bit smugly and pulls out the very broken transponder. "Couldn't call my ride," he says and she holds back a laugh. It is while everyone is getting looked over that Bucky finally has had enough and shouts.

"Hey!" he shouts, and once everyone has their attention on him he turns to Steve and says, "Let's hear it for Captain America!" then everyone is clapping and cheering for him and very suddenly Steve feels that he had done something right for the first time in his life. Steve holds his head up high and takes the clapping and patting him on the shoulder or wherever they can touch, but he keeps his eyes on Peggy and has to remind himself that Pride comes before the fall. And he knows it is going to be hard to stay humble and be true to himself through all of what is to come, but as long as he has Bucky at his back nothing else matters. Bucky was all he ever had for so long, and, in a way, when this will all be over, Bucky will be all that he will have. It is in this moment that Steve became Captain America in truth: not when they gave him the title, or when he received the suit but here; in this little allied camp in the middle of nowhere, after rescuing over four hundred men. This is where Captain America was born.

Bucky had a hard time believing that the big muscly man that had saved him was the same little punk he left back in New York all those months ago. In a way, it felt like a lifetime ago, when he thought back on it. The fact that Steve had finally joined the Army didn't get past his attention, but for the first time in his life Steve is healthy; so Bucky will let it slide, for now. The welcome they all received was wonderful and Bucky couldn't find it in him to enjoy it. All he wanted was to climb into a tub of hot water and soak, until the gunk and grime of that place was washed from his body. A part of him wanted to scrub his body all over, where that weasel Dr. Zola touched him and shot him full of strange solutions especially. But Bucky knew that he wouldn't get that chance for a while. Steve had insisted that he be examined by the doctors at the camp, after they finished debriefing him on what he heard and saw while at the factory; but that was the last thing that he wanted to do. Steve didn't understand that he didn't want to see a doctor, and could you blame Bucky; after what that mad scientist did to him.

Steve was stubborn, though, even before the mysterious procedure that made him into a muscled warrior; and he usually got his way. He did again, after he was able to drag Bucky away from the officers, circling like wolves at the sight of his weakness; just itching to label him a traitor and have him hauled away in shackles. Steve wouldn't stand for it and forcibly reminded them that Bucky needed medical attention. Bucky doesn't want the doctors to examine him and find out about his difference. He felt fine, but Steve insisted that he be looked over anyway. There is also another reason Bucky doesn't want a doctor poking around at him: that stuff that the doctor put in his veins burned like fire for a while, but now that he is away from that place, he can feel the difference. He felt fine, but he knows he shouldn't feel fine. He should feel tired and achy and in pain from having to grab Steve while leaning over a metal rail, but those aches and minor pains went away after a few hours.

He feels stronger too, like he can do anything; and it scares him. Now that he has wrung the story out of Steve, he knows that Zola was working on recreating the Super Soldier serum that saved Steve, but also turned Schmidt into a red skulled monster. As soon as he is alone after the doc's have poked and prodded at him and declared him fit for duty, Bucky looks for signs that something is different. The first thing he finds is that his muscles are more defined; though that might have been from the fact that he has been living on what amounted to scraps for about a month. The other thing is that he feels like he could eat a horse and still be hungry, but he blames that on the starvation too. What he cannot blame on the prior conditions he suffered under before the back room, is the fact that his hearing is sharper and his vision more acute. His heart beat is slow and steady, when it should be racing. He can think clearer and remember things better and faster than before. The symptoms are all adding up and Bucky doesn't like the diagnosis.

A little part of his mind wonders if he is pregnant. After all, he slept with men only three times before and always got pregnant; this time he slept with the same man multiple times and the Elda came in him multiple times. There was very little chance of him not being pregnant, but he still hopes that he isn't; even when logic says he is most likely. Bucky is a little scared of what the serum would do to an unborn baby, or developing one. Bucky places his hand on his belly and presses; looking for any sign of conception. But save for a slight bit of bloating around that area, there is nothing. Bucky signed in relief, and instantly felt bad; he wanted Arion's baby. But for now Bucky decides that it is too risky to be pregnant with the work he is about to do with Steve, and thanks his lucky stars that there isn't a baby. Maybe someday, when the war is over, Bucky and Arion can renew their affair and have that child; a little boy, perhaps, with blond hair and Arion's deep blue eyes and Bucky's face. Bucky shakes the ghostly image of a young man with his face, and Arion's blue shade of eyes and pointed ears. He can't daydream now, Steve needs him.

AN: please review, Love them and need them to keep me going. more juicy stuff to come.