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Chapter 9: Makes You Stronger
"We are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided."
― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
Aside of receiving a chewing out from Betsy (over the post, thankfully) and congratulations from Andre, Steve didn't have much contact with those unassociated with the SSR. Oh, and the bartender from that pub. He'd started just bringing out bottles of whatever the trio requested and letting them have at it, all the while eyeing them with a sort of disgusted awe.
That didn't stop that secretary from kissing him while he was waiting for Howard to have time to see him. Honestly, it felt… wrong. When he walked away after Agent Carter rescued him, he wiped his lips off on his sleeve with a scowl.
For some reason that softened her ire at him when she saw. It didn't stop her from shooting at him after he asked her opinion on his shield. He'd never make that mistake again.
When Tony heard about the incident, he laughed hysterically. "Wait, wait, wait, the blonde secretary?" he asked, eyes sparkling with mirth. When Steve nodded, he only hooted.
"Some dame kisses your boyfriend and you're laughing about it?" Bucky asked, obviously wondering about his friend's sanity.
Steve was seriously contemplating having a doctor examine Tony. Something had to be cracked in his head.
Several long minutes later, Tony wiped tears of laughter from the corners of his eyes. "It's one of those things I can't explain," he said, mostly to Steve.
Even as Steve nodded and shut his mouth, Bucky quirked an eyebrow. "Whatever you say, metal man," the dark haired man said with a gesture of surrender, and quickly vacated the scene.
Things only picked up from there. The uniform was made, the shield painted, and the team outfitted with whatever they needed for their missions. Each man was given his choice in what to wear, leaving Monty and Dum Dum to sigh in relief as they adjusted their hats.
The one request that Steve made was for there to be no rank insignias. Within this team they were all equals. Somehow they all ended up with a white wing stitched onto the left shoulder of their shirts and coats anyways.
Planning took most of the days for Steve, leaving him to wonder exactly what Tony and Bucky got up to in their free time. Knowing Tony, he was probably working on some engineering project or another in Howard's lab while snapping at him condescendingly. He couldn't understand why they didn't get along and stayed out of the way. Undoubtedly Bucky was out looking at (flirting with) pretty English women. He'd probably need to be rescued from them by the end of the week.
Then D-day came and they were shipped out.
The first mission with the new team was a resounding success. Steve was surprised at how well they worked together, but when he thought about it later he realized that he shouldn't have been. After all, they had known each other for at least a month under the harshest imaginable conditions.
What he remained surprised about was them actually following his orders. Without even a peep of protest his commands were followed through, including those that sounded insane. Not even Tony argued.
Not that there was time to. The world was on fire and they were needed everywhere at once to douse the flames.
Their first mission was the base in Greenland. As Tony put it, "We may as well get this clusterfuck done and over with." Just like the man predicted, Steve hated the place. It reminded him too much of books he had read about ill-fated arctic expeditions and what could very easily happen to his team if anything went wrong.
Luckily, nothing went spectacularly wrong. Not that he saw, at any rate.
Tony hissed as he looked at his shoulder. The bullet would have to be removed, and he didn't trust himself to do it without a mirror. That left him to ask for help.
Normally he would go to Steve, but the man was out cold. He had headed the attack on the base and just watching him made Tony feel tired. The man deserved some damn sleep while he had the chance.
They had gotten to an Allied weather station and were all crammed into two rooms for the night: Tony, Steve, Bucky and Monty in one, and the rest in the other. The guys who put them up were bemused by their presence but accepted them without question, just a casual comment about how Greenland was suddenly a battlefield. They apparently weren't the first team to get dragged up this way.
There was a knock on the door of the broom closet that Tony had sneaked away to. "You okay in there, man?" Gabe asked, voice muffled.
At first Tony thought of saying that he was. Then he struck an idea that made him die a little on the inside. "Can you get Bucky for me?" he requested.
"Sure thing." Gabe's boots tapped the floor rhythmically as he left.
Most of Tony's brain was screaming at him because what the fuck was he thinking?! The cold, calculating part that was constantly cataloguing changes to the past realized that this was how it was supposed to be. Of course, Bucky would know about the arc reactor. The fileshe had read clearly indicated that.
Tony took a deep breath and focused on his heartbeat. When that didn't help, he brutally forced down the panic that threatened to overwhelm him. This was the price he paid for knowing too much when he tackled the Winter Soldier all those months ago.
"You're not naked, are you?" Bucky's teasing voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Not until you get in here, sweetcheeks," Tony flirted. His bark of laughter was short and stopped abruptly when the motion jarred his shoulder.
"Then what am I waiting for?" Bucky opened the door and stepped into the cramped space with a smile that faded into a look of concern. "Shit, Tony, what the hell happened to you?" He closed the door hurriedly and leaned on it to get some space.
Tony knew he looked horrible. It was one of those side effects of getting shot then hiking several hours like that. The only reason he hadn't bled out was that the wound froze. "I got shot," he said dryly.
"You should have told us," Bucky reprimanded with wide eyes as he inspected the wound as best he could by the bare bulb hanging above them, "You need to take off your shirt, I'll get stuff to sew you up." He had done it a few times before Azzano, just never a spot that needed Tony's shirt removed.
"No need." Tony shoved the first aid kit he had nicked into his friend's hands. Nervous butterflies started in his stomach as he fidgeted with his outer shirt.
Bucky began preparing tweezers and smirked at his friend. "Getting shy all of a sudden?" he asked.
A snort answered him. "No, just, uh, there's something I need to tell you about," Tony said, not quite sure how to say what he needed to. Well, lie like he needed to. "Just… don't freak out."
In the confines of the closet, Bucky's huff sounded like a laugh. "I ain't gonna throw a fit 'cause I see one of my best friends shirtless, Tony," he said as he finished sterilizing the tweezers.
Here went nothing. It took longer to open his shirt than usual, fingers fumbling on the buttons. The arc reactor shone dimly through the sweat-stained white shirt he wore under it.
Though he was frowning, Bucky thankfully didn't say anything. Just capped the rubbing alcohol.
Taking off the undershirt was like taking off a band-aid. Tony took a shaky breath as he placed both of his shirts on a shelf behind him, baring his terrible privilege to someone for the first time in the 1940's. The arc reactor shone like a beacon, as bright as the light bulb above them.
The light gave Bucky's suddenly white face a blue tint. "What the hell is that?" he demanded even as he wielded the tweezers expertly.
"An experimental power source," Tony gritted out, not quite lying, "It got put in a few years ago. Been a big help." He was reduced to hisses and gasps as the bullet was removed from his shoulder.
"What would you need a battery in your chest for?" Bucky asked, disbelief ringing through every syllable. "By the way, you're lucky, the bullet is still in one piece. But that's you." The ping as he set the bullet down on a shelf was a relief.
Tony shuddered at the memory of waking up with an actual battery attached to his chest, back in that damn cave. "Don't even joke about that," he snapped roughly.
"Okay, okay. Sensitive subject, got it," Bucky grumbled as he sterilized a needle and some thread. He seemed to be taking it well, using the light from the arc reactor to thread the needle.
"You can't tell anyone about this," Tony said forcefully, willing his friend to believe him, "If the wrong people find out, I'll be shipped off to some lab and dissected just like HYDRA did." He startled himself with his own honesty as he added, "I'd rather die."
The realization struck him even as Bucky agreed softly, that what he said would actually happen by the time he was done here. He hoped that Bucky wouldn't remember the weirdness of it. "There's something you need to do for me," Tony said, taking a deep breath. This would be the deal that got the ball rolling.
"Besides sew you up and keep this… whatever it is, a secret?" Bucky snickered as he spoke, stitching up the gunshot with steady hands.
It barely pinched. "This is the most advanced technology you'll see for the next seventy years, maybe longer," Tony told him, choosing his words carefully, "If HYDRA got a hold of it, I'm not sure that anything we do could make a difference. So when I give you a signal, you need to take it out and smash it." Now that the words were out of his mouth, he wanted to take them back.
It was an exercise in self-control to not pretend it was all a joke and keep himself safe.
Carefully Bucky tied off the thread and cleaned up his supplies. His expression was thoughtful, going from his task to Tony and back again. "It would hurt," he said out of the blue.
"The outer ring stays in my chest. It's the middle part you need to unlock. That doesn't hurt if you get it right," Tony denied with a shake of his head. His hand trembled as he raked it through his greasy hair. Damn, he needed a shower.
Task done, Bucky examined the glowing machinery in the center of Tony's chest. "Can't you do it?" he asked.
Tony huffed out a fond laugh. "If I could, I'd save you the hassle," he said dryly, "But friends made me put locks on it that I can't undo myself. Had a really bad drunken night once, tried to take it out. Bad things happened." That was the understatement of the year; he was sure Pepper would have murdered him if he weren't already mostly dead at the time and Steve mother-henned him for the next two weeks.
"Okay," Bucky agreed, revolted and compliant at once, "How do I undo it?"
Tony pulled the other man's hand up and fixed larger fingers than his into the correct grooves. "Now don't pull it the whole way out, it's a real bitch to get the damn thing back in," he instructed, and then turned his friend's hand in the correct sequence. He more felt than heard the locks click open.
When all the locks were undone, he turned Bucky's hand in almost a full rotation before stopping. "If we were actually going to take it out, you'd keep going. There will be wires, pull those out too. The whole thing," Tony finished, and took a relieved breath when the other hand was removed from the most vulnerable part of him. It was easy enough to re-engage the locks, and with a last thump to the device it was back in position.
"What will happen if I do have to take it out?" Bucky asked, staring at the blue light. It made his eyes look a lot like someone under the thrall of Loki's staff.
"Eh, I'll get yelled at and have to pay for a replacement," Tony lied with a shrug.
"I bet this thing cost an arm and a leg," Bucky said, not knowing how close to the truth he was. Does half a sternum count?
The next question for some reason threw him: "Does Steve know?"
Tony's pause was apparently answer in and of itself.
"You didn't tell him," Bucky stated, deadpan. He watched with fascination as the light of the arc reactor was covered first with one shirt then the other.
The broom closet suddenly seemed dim.
"No," Tony confirmed. Now that his arc reactor was covered he felt better, less vulnerable.
"He won't sell you out, you've gotta know that," Bucky said. His expression was begging Tony to not be that stupid.
Tony snorted. Of all the people in the world, Steve was the last who would ever do that. "If he knew, he'd have to lie about it. You know it would tear him apart," he returned soberly.
In the yellow light, he saw Bucky frown. "But you're willing to make me lie," he pointed out.
"You're different," Tony replied softly. He silently begged his friend to understand. They were close enough to trust each other with the person most important to both of them, and after that damn lab they were close enough to trust each other with the truth.
He could only hope they were close enough to trust each other with a lie.
The tension drained from Bucky's shoulders and a tired smile tilted his lips. "If he finds out on his own, I'm not gonna cover for you. 'Specially not if he unleashes the full puppy dog pout," he threatened ineffectively.
The mere mention of them made Tony melt. No matter what form Steve was in, the eyes worked like magic. "You're an evil, evil man, Barnes," he huffed.
Bucky's smirk as he opened the closet door was unrepentant. "This was fun. We should do it again sometime," he said with a mischievous wink and rakish grin. If he hadn't already been head over heels for Steve, Tony would have been on his best friend like white on rice.
As it was, the man from the future simply cooed out some kind of flirty response before closing himself in the closet again. Oh, how many jokes he could make about this… The thought made him laugh, but the sound was more hysterical than he expected.
Then he realized that his hands shook as he ran them through his hair. This was ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. What was he so worried about?
Just, you know, dying with no ability to say otherwise and knowing exactly how, when, where, why, and who was going to do it.
Arguably, the worst part about it was that he couldn't afford to keep it from happening. The world couldn't afford it.
Not even a week after they got back, Tony was called into the Colonel's office. What he did to warrant this he wasn't sure about, but he hoped that it had nothing to do with Bucky possibly ratting him out. He would strangle the man for that.
When he opened to door to see Bucky standing in front of the desk, Tony sighed. He was so screwed. "Whatever it is, I didn't do it," he announced.
The Colonel looked suspiciously at him. "Guilty conscience?"
"Not at all," Tony answered with a smile. He stationed himself beside Bucky and had to resist the urge to stomp on the man's foot.
"Barnes tells me you can be trusted with a secret. No matter whether you take this assignment or not, that's the exact attitude you need to keep. This does not exist, and it never happened, and you didn't do it," the Colonel said, putting a weird amount of emphasis on the secrecy of whatever was going on.
"Sure. What's up?" Tony played it off, despite being fully serious.
They knew him too well to be fooled by it. "These are your targets, gents," the Colonel said, placing two photos in front of them.
The first was of a woman in a fancy coat, walking down a set of stairs. She was in her forties and rich. It was hard to tell in black and white, but she appeared to be a blonde, rather pretty.
The other was of a thin guy with a huge mustache, not rich or poor but striding to a car.
"Who are they?" Bucky asked immediately. There was no sign of a protest.
"The wife of the British ambassador to Iceland and her contact," the Colonel answered, pulling up a face shot of each, "The Ministry passed this assignment over to us. Too risky for them, apparently." He gave an unamused huff. "They're Nazi spies, and they need to be taken care of. Preferably at the same time, which is why we called you in here Starosta."
Tony wasn't sure whether he should be honored or insulted by the implication. "You need me to assassinate one of them while he gets the other," he stated, frowning.
"You're being sent after Danzig, while Barnes gets Mrs Stafford," the colonel agreed. The look on his face dared Tony to protest.
It was a pleasure to defy his expectations. "Are there any routines we should be aware of?" Tony asked instead.
When Colonel Phillips advised them of their best opportunities to complete their missions, Tony felt a little bile creep up into his throat. This wasn't what he had signed up for. He agreed anyways. He had to stay near Bucky.
They shipped out that night. According to the paperwork they were back in the States getting examined for changes that Zola had made to them while they were in captivity. Really they were on a tiny little plane on their way to Reykjavik, checking equipment as they did.
This explained a lot about Barnes's skills, Tony thought as he watched the man clean every bit of his sniper rifle, taking it apart and putting it back together with experienced hands. No one becomes an expert sharpshooter without advanced training. It just hadn't struck him before to ask.
"This is flattering and all, but why me?" Tony asked as he tucked a tiny Webley in his vest.
Bucky gave him a grim sort of smile. "A secret for a secret," he said, apparently unconcerned, "I know you can do it." There were several clicks as he put the final piece back in place and gave it a sharp hit to settle it.
"I don't know if I should be concerned by this opinion you have of me," Tony said, half joking.
"You hide it well, I'll give you that, but you're dangerous. I knew it from the minute I saw you. Why do you think I insisted that you come to the docks instead of looking after Steve after that first day?" Bucky asked hypothetically.
Okay, that was a good point. "I never knew you were such a sly son of a bitch," Tony said, almost impressed. If he wasn't aware of the Winter Soldier's resume of sneakiness, he would have been totally blindsided.
"When it matters," Bucky said with a nonchalant shrug, "The point here is that you're cold, you're ruthless, and I need someone who can shoot as well as I can to help me out on this."
"You found out about the incident with Loner or whatever the hell his name was, didn't you?" Tony asked tiredly. He was hoping that could stay locked up in the records.
"Steve needed somebody to talk to," Bucky replied, "That scared the living crap out of him, you know."
It almost made Tony feel bad. Not that he would have changed anything if he had the chance.
Their stop was called, the plane dipped down low.
"Time to put that into action," Tony said. He pulled on his parachute and had half a wish for a vibranium shield to break his fall. These landings hurt no matter how you did it.
One right after the other he and Bucky jumped.
The mission was disgustingly easy. As he waited for Bucky to finish his part, Tony wondered if maybe his critics were right. It was one thing to kill someone attacking you, it was another to kill them from a rooftop two blocks away while they were out for their evening constitutional. He had gotten away without a trace as the entire city went nuts.
When Bucky stumbled into the clearing that Tony had picked at two in the morning, he stank of women's perfume and sex and blood. "I hate this kind of mission," he complained as he flopped over beside his friend.
"Yeah?" Tony asked sarcastically. It seemed to him like the other man had a good time of it.
"I prefer to not kill my bed partners, thanks," Bucky replied acerbically.
The information had said that one of the few ways to get at her was to interest her sexually, get her in bed. Otherwise her guards were too good and she too vigilant. That she prefered younger men pointed at Bucky being the one to do it.
"How did you end up doing this anyways?" Tony asked. He looked up at the sky, identifying constellations and generally trying to pretend the answer didn't mean as much to him as it really did.
It took a moment for Bucky to gather his words. "When I got sent to boot camp the first time, they noticed I was a good shot. Natural talent, I guess. So they referred me for sniper training. I was the best one there. Then the OSS picked me up and that's that," he answered uncomfortably.
When Tony really thought about it, he could see it happening. The Winter Soldier had to come from somewhere. That kind of darkness and coldness couldn't be invented, it had to already be in there, nurtured and coaxed into what he saw whenever he looked into the eyes of the psycho assassin future self.
"How did you get like this?" Bucky returned. They had a couple more hours before they could be picked up, enough time to clear the air.
This time it was Tony who had trouble figuring out what to say. It was a very context-heavy story. "I was always a little cold and distant. One of those things about growing up ignored," he said bitterly, "It just grew from there. Every time I had to lie to myself to keep going it got a little deeper until… well, a good man died and it made me see everything. After that things got a little murkier." He wouldn't change Iron Man or being an Avenger for anything, but it rarely leant itself to simplicity. Things were in constant flux and shades of grey now.
Bucky put an arm over his shoulders. "Well, whatever happened, you're ours now," he declared. It meant more than he could know.
Ignoring the stench that clung to his friend was easy. Tony allowed himself to lean into the warmth beside him, hoping that six would come soon. He just wanted to sleep, goddammit.
That he would have more nightmares than usual was carefully not thought about.
"The Winter Soldier keeps taking shots at me. Doesn't he ever get bored with trying to die?" Bucky complained suddenly. His tone was of annoyance rather than disturbance, which was in itself unsettling.
"I don't think he knows anything but killing. Now that he's out on his own without assignments…" It was strange, talking to Bucky about the Winter Soldier like this.
"That's sad. Pitiful, really," Bucky huffed, "If I ever end up like that, please shoot me."
If they hadn't been trying to hide, Tony would have laughed. "No worries there," he finally said. He had already tried that (was still trying, really) and the records thankfully indicated that someone in the Howling Commandos would succeed.
"What's so funny?" Bucky asked, quirking an eyebrow. He tapped his fingers rhythmically against his friend's shoulder, arm still slung across his back.
"Not that we'll have to worry about it, but same here. Just shoot me," Tony agreed. He remembered a highly redacted file involving an incident… Maybe this was a good deal. Just in case it was worse than he thought.
That would be difficult to pull off.
Missions kept going, and time flew by. Before Steve knew it, his team had earned the exact name and infamy that Tony had implied with his acceptance: they were the Howling Commandos now.
There were the average days, or what they could call average: sneaking into factories, blowing them up, breaking enemy lines, and planning to do it all again next time they were needed. Steve supposed that it wasn't really normal. He wouldn't trade it for the world.
Not even the time that their cover was blown because Tony started screaming like a little girl. It turned out that he was being attacked by chickens. They never did let him live that down.
Probably one of Steve's favorite stories to recount was the time that they needed to take a certain fort, largely intact. He had a plan that would have worked, despite that they would need to rebuild a couple of walls. But Tony had vetoed it.
"No no no, I have an idea that would get us a whole fort with zero lives lost," the genius said with a grin. He rubbed his hands together eagerly as he looked around at the confused faces.
"And how could this possibly happen?" Peggy asked, amused and stern at once.
From the look of glee on Tony's face, he had been waiting for someone to ask. "It's called a Bavarian Fire Drill," he told them, "And I'll need a Nazi general's uniform, a henchman- that'll be you, Bucky-"
"Why do I have to be a henchman?" Bucky protested, scowling.
"Because every German commander has at least one lackey with him at all times, Gabe is black, they'd assume Steve was in charge, and nobody else knows German," Tony answered comprehensively, "We really need someone who knows German and your accent is passable for somewhere in the Black Forest."
When Bucky had learned German, Steve didn't ask. Must have happened in the HYDRA factory before he got sent to the lab.
"Anyway, we'll need a uniform for him too. German weapons and a captured jeep would add a nice touch," Tony continued, "The plan is too stupid to be allowed, just like Operation Mincemeat, but that's why it'll work, again like Operation Mincemeat." He looked around expectantly, waiting for someone to protest.
Instead, he got Colonel Phillips leaning forward to eye him beadily. "You tell me you're going to drive up, pretend to be German, and then convince them of what?" he asked around the mouth of his pipe.
"Retreat, of course," Tony said, now looking at the Colonel like he was the stupid one.
It could never work, Steve thought, it was too dumb. As Dum Dum put it, this was 'balls out bonkers'.
Everyone looked to the Colonel to stop this madness. He had to. "It's so nuts it can't fail," he judged.
Steve resisted the urge to slap himself in frustration.
Bucky didn't bother censoring himself and slammed his face into the table.
It only made Tony smirk.
The next day they got two German uniforms, a captured car, and weapons for Tony and Bucky to take into the snake pit. That evening they drove into the fort.
"If they get caught, I'mma kill 'em," Dum Dum threatened under his breath as they watched the fort from the treeline.
Near the middle of the night there was a huge racket inside. Lights were suddenly switched on and troops assembled in the courtyard hastily before marching out. There was no big fanfare or announcement, just the Germans leaving.
An hour later, the signal was given: the Nazi flag was set on fire.
Half-expecting to see most of the chain of command dead in their rooms, Steve led the charge inside. At the gates, Tony greeted them with a sly grin. "To think, you doubted me," he said smugly.
"I can't fucking believe it," Jim said, eyes darting around the empty fort.
"Me either," Tony admitted, before waving for them to follow, "I had to kill the general, but somehow nobody noticed. Doesn't matter, they're gone and they didn't take most of the food."
With a cheer, the Commandos followed him to the kitchens.
There wasn't a single German left in the place, and by the time they realized they had been duped the fort was already heavily manned by combined British and American troops. It got Tony the nickname, 'Ballsiest Idiot in the Force' and the raid went down in history.
There were a few times that similar scenarios happened, except with each one the operation got so insane that it felt like they were breaking reality. Some spy missions hinged on Gabe's educated German accent or Steve's commanding presence or Tony being faster than hunting dogs. That last one was a pain to deal with and an almost-complete failure.
The recon sweeps were the weirdest, with them in a variety of disguises. Once Bucky and Gabe were set up to meet with the Scarlet Pimpernel of the Vatican and to do so dressed up as Catholic priests from Munich. Tony never let them live that one down; Bucky punched him in the face for it.
So of course, the actual missions get weirder. There were a few that involved derailing trains or destroying infrastructure, though bomber planes were usually used for those purposes. Several prison escapes were planned and carried out. Once they had to deliver an insanely valuable lute from Denmark to Switzerland and barely avoided breaking it when Dum Dum used it as a makeshift club in a particularly desperate battle.
Then they were given a mission that ordinarily would have gone to the Baker Street Irregulars, and all marched down to HQ to give the Colonel a piece of their minds. "This is not the kind of mission we were formed for. What are you thinking?" Steve demanded, slamming the assignment on the desk.
At his back, the other Commandos huffed out agreements.
"You're the most versatile team we've got. What's the problem?" Colonel Phillips asked, reading through the assignment.
"We are a battlefield unit, not assassins," Steve replied tightly.
The Colonel let out a strange little huff of laughter before he sobered once again. "Yes, this would usually go to the SOE," he acknowledged, "but all their agents are unavailable and this needs to be done by the end of the week. We're the closest to the position with a chance at pulling it off. If you succeed it could end the war a few months sooner." It became obvious how much this wore on him when he rubbed his eyes. The little wrinkles and frown lines deepened and the grey of his hair gleamed in the dim light.
Steve's lips thinned as he turned to the Commandos to take a vote. "You heard the Colonel. What do you think?" he asked.
At once Tony and Bucky shrugged. "We're in if you are," the latter commented lightly. That they didn't seem to have a problem with murdering people in cold blood was rather concerning.
From the look on Jim's face, he agreed with Steve's private assessment. "I don't like it, but I'll do it this time," he replied. From the nods that the others gave with various amounts of grumbling, that was the consensus.
When Steve turned around again, he saw that Colonel Phillips looked amused. "Keep the mission details and I'll make notes in your files. No more assassinations for the infamous Howling Commandos," the older man said somewhat mockingly, handing back the crumpled paper, "You leave in two days."
It was a long time before Steve found out why his man and best friend had no problems with shooting people in their beds. By then it would be too late to do anything about it.