A/N: Hello all! So I'm giving you the gift of an insanely long chapter and the kickoff point of the Azzano arc, which should span 6-7 chapters (c'mon, you guys didn't think I was going to do Azzano in two or three, did you?) We're starting to converge with the events of the film! Also – there's a small snippet in this chapter that I pulled almost directly from Band of Brothers, which has influenced this story a great deal. Those of you who have seen the show or read the book may recognize it, and I included it because I cried both when I read and watched the moment.
I regret to inform that I'm going to be MIA over the next week or so, which means an update will definitely be delayed – I'm in my best friend's wedding on Saturday which means lots of chaos, but also three of my favorite things: high heels, spring dresses, and champagne!
Also, holy crap you guys are AMAZING! I love, love, love all of your reviews, favorites, and follows. The response I have gotten for this story is above and beyond anything I ever expected! Seriously, there are not enough thanks in the world for all of the love. Special thanks to Mopargirl1 for her technical knowledge.
The usual language warnings apply along with a warning for mild fluff – what's that? Confused expressions and cries of disbelief? Kappa knows how to write fluff? After all the doom and gloom? Say it isn't so!
Disclaimer – I don't own Captain America. I really, really, really wish I did.
Chapter 10 – Bruises and Cocktail Hours
"Come see me tomorrow and I'll change these bandages out," said Sadie as she carefully wrapped a length of white bandage around Earnest Kemper's hand. The technician was the picture of stillness as he sat with his elbow resting on a crate, arm straight up and hand open. Already Sadie had covered the length of gauze covering the nasty gash on his forearm that she'd cleaned and treated. "Be sure to keep it clean and let it breathe."
Earnest nodded. "Just like you taught me," he said.
Sadie's eyes snapped up from his wrist, her hand hovering in midair where she'd just wrapped the bandage over the webbing between his index finger and thumb. The white bandage looked even more stark next to Earnest's torn and filthy uniform and against Sadie's own dirty skin. Her hand shook just slightly, but Sadie felt the tremor vibrate up her arm and deep into her chest, aching and burning as it went.
"Nurse Reid? Are you alright?" Earnest asked, trying to restore her attention.
"I'm fine," said Sadie stiffly. "And yes, just like I taught you. Good memory," she said but didn't accompany her compliment with her usual smile. Finding her concentration again, Sadie finished wrapping the bandage and tied it off. Earnest thanked her for her help and departed, leaving her kneeling on the ground next to the crate, alone beneath the shade of one of the few undamaged trees.
Sadie's hands fell into her lap, each finger rigid as though the tendons would snap at any given second. Dropping her head forward, she rolled out her neck and took a tiny bit of satisfaction as it popped and cracked in the right places. Even that little adjustment did wonders for her and she rolled it again until she felt just a fraction looser. Pushing her shoulders back in a circular motion, she felt the muscles groan unhappily, rippling and settling back into place.
Opening her eyes, Sadie examined her hands, scowling at the side of the small nicks and cuts marring her previously undamaged skin. A fine layer of dirt and grit had settled on every available inch of her skin, obscuring the bruises on her left arm that she already felt. Although she'd rolled up the sleeves on her shirt, there was a large tear in the right elbow and several holes peppered through the shoulder on the left side. The knees in her field trousers were ripped, revealing scraped skin embedded with even more grit. An hour long shower was in order, and though Sadie knew the hot water would soothe her exterior wounds, it wouldn't do a damn thing for the burning in her chest or the excruciating pain she felt with every breath she took.
Rationally speaking, Sadie knew the pain came from what she was certain were a few bruised ribs on her left side and the gallons of smoke she'd inhaled after the explosion in the first ward tent. But the whole rest of her knew that the real root of her worst pain came from the still-smoldering remains of the explosion that killed Betty just two hours earlier. It was the same sort of throbbing, aching agony that Sadie felt when her father died; Betty's all-too recent death had put a fresh new hole in her already peppered heart, leaving raw edges that stung as though an invisible force kept poking her with a thousand tiny needles. Sadie rubbed her palm over her breastbone, wishing that she could feel anything else but the deep sorrow she thought she'd buried in the year and a half since her father's death.
Back then, Sadie had been determined to force her way through the grief. She'd convinced herself she was too driven and rational and focused to let herself fall apart. Succumbing to the throes of grief was for weaker women who had nothing else to live for, she'd told herself stubbornly even on the nights when she'd woken up in tears. Watching her mother's slow descent into a permanent numb state hadn't helped matters and by the time Sadie had returned to school from the funeral and a cheerless Christmas, she'd been as determined as ever to put the worst behind her and make a difference. So she'd joined the Army Nursing Corps and fought her way through her grief so she could do something that would make her later father proud of her.
A fat load of good that had done, thought Sadie bitterly. It seemed for every life she helped save there were two more deaths behind it and now she had to add Betty's name to that list. Just thinking it caused another spasm in Sadie's heart, tugging at her exposed and raw nerves.
"Stop it," she said to herself firmly.
Falling to pieces now wouldn't help anyone. Death was a fact of war. She'd known that when she volunteered and so had Betty. Sadie clenched her hands into tight fists, pulling at her dry and cracked skin. The 80th had taken a hit but it wasn't out for the count, she reminded herself and got to her feet, sore and stiff joints creaking as she did. There were other nurses that needed direction, doctors that couldn't function with the nurses, and the patients wouldn't stop coming in just because the 80th was now understaffed. People died during the war. If it hadn't been Betty then it could have been Evelyn or Ruthie or Doc Holmes or Bucky. The world couldn't stop turning just because she wanted it to.
Sadie gathered up the few supplies she'd been carrying around with her and set off towards the nurses encampment. The hospital had been ordered to dismantle in preparation to move off the line with the rest of the 107th. Already G Company had stopped to help with cleanup and F Company would be arriving within the next half hour with an extra convoy to help evacuate the hospital staff back to the main basecamp just off the beachhead where the 107th had landed only weeks earlier. A small, distant part of Sadie recognized that Bucky was in F Company, as was Lieutenant McAllister, Sergeant Dugan and the man she'd treated on the Queen Victoria. Normally, Sadie would have looked forward to seeing Bucky again, but just now she couldn't bring herself to feel anything.
But, if Sadie thought her initial grief was bad, it was nothing compared to Evelyn who hadn't stopped crying. Ruthie Lafferty and Doctor Holmes had run at break neck speed towards the bombing site just seconds after it had happened to recover and treat the wounded. A few other nurses had gone with them, but Sadie hadn't been able to get to her feet because Evelyn had pulled her down and wouldn't let go. Sadie hadn't minded, she held onto Evelyn just as tightly, guiding her friend's face into her shoulder. Evelyn sobbed, unrestrained while Peggy sat with them on the hard ground, stroking Evelyn's back with one hand and clutching Sadie's with the other.
With all of the remaining tents dismantled, Sadie could see across the field to where Evelyn sat with Doctor Holmes while he performed a cursory examination on her. Sadie picked her way across the field to them.
"Nurse Reid," said Doctor Holmes, as she drew within earshot. "You need to be examined."
Sadie thought of the furious ache in her back from where the she'd been thrown into a cot. "I will once we're back at base camp," she said. "I should get my things together."
Evelyn sniffed and hastily wiped the tears from beneath her eyes. "Someone needs to get," but her throat seemed to close over the words. A lump formed in Sadie's own throat as she put together the end of Evelyn's sentence.
"Betty and I were sharing a tent. I'll get her things."
Evelyn gave another water shudder. Doc Holmes patted her shoulder before he dug into one of his pockets. He opened his palm to reveal a set of bent dog tags and a gold cross covered in soot, it was partially fused to a length of broken gold chain. Sadie instantly recognized the cross as belonging to Betty and her heart stumbled over a few beats.
"This was all we recovered," he said in a low, sad voice. Betty had been a favorite of not only her fellow nurses, but the doctors as well. Her infectious brand of humor tended to lift the spirits of patients and staff alike.
Just looking at the cross, Sadie thought she might be sick. Evelyn turned her ashen face away, pressing one of her hands over her eyes to hide her renewed tears. Hot saltwater stung at the corners of Sadie's eyes, but she fought the urge to cry and instead took the cross from his palm.
"I'll send it home to her mother," said Sadie and her voice broke over the words. "I'm sure that's what Betty would want."
Unable to bear Evelyn's tears any longer, Sadie walked away towards the women's camp to get her things. A few drops of blood seeped out of her closed fist, where she'd clutched the cross so hard it cut into her hand.
X X X
A gorgeous morning had unfolded over the men of the 107th when they finally got out of their position, made the short march to the waiting troop convoys, and got underway. The sunrise had taken it's time, something that Bucky saw as a personal offense, though knew he was being stupid. Time had a funny way of speeding up and slowing down during the 107th's campaign, the changing speeds often coincided with oncoming battle. But Bucky would be damned if the last night hadn't been the longest of the war so far.
Every man in his rifle squad and platoon, hell, even the whole of F Company felt the minutes slow to a crawl. It seemed to the unanimous consensus that the men would gladly had taken the shellacking that the 80th had apparently received, just to spare the wounded men and staff from the horror. The snippets of conversation Bucky heard during the course of the long night echoed the same furious sentiments. What kind of monsters would bomb a hospital? Were the Nazis blind? Surely they could see the enormous red crosses painted on the tops of each canvas tent! Men lamented that their fellow wounded comrades were doomed to be targets once more and even worse the poor doctors and nurses who hadn't lifted an adversarial finger all war long.
F Company as a whole remained tense, but perhaps none more so than Bucky, try as he might to hide it. More than half a dozen times in the night he'd convinced himself to steal a jeep, get his squad together and drive out to the hospital. Each time, he talked himself down based on two almost certain consequences. First, he'd likely be court-martialed into oblivion, if not dishonorably discharged altogether. Second, if he wasn't discharged or shot for disobeying orders, then Sadie Reid would probably do the job and shoot him herself. In the weeks he'd known her, Bucky had come to understand that Sadie took her work very seriously and would not respond kindly to some rash attempt at rescuing her.
And so, Bucky forced himself to stay in his foxhole, left with nothing but the litany of terrible scenarios racing through his mind. Each one worse than the last, Bucky dwelled all night on whether Sadie had been injured or worse, killed. Images of her missing her limbs or ending up badly burned tortured him through the night. Would she come out unscathed? Sadie was extremely smart and resourceful, that much Bucky knew; but there was very little even Sadie could do in the face of an aerial attack. Bucky also knew she and the rest of the nurses were just devoted and insane enough to run headlong into the danger. The duty to their patients came above all other loyalties or emotions, and Bucky firmly believed that Sadie, along with Evelyn and Betty hadn't even flinched at working through the constant terror.
There were many men Bucky knew in his own regiment that wouldn't have done that.
And so, the hours drug on and Bucky watched the sky grow steadily lighter until the first rays of morning sun crept through the tree line they'd dug into. As he marched with his squad to the convoys he had to continually talk himself off a thousand ledges. If the situation weren't so dire, Bucky might have laughed at himself, Steve certainly would have. Out of all of the girls Bucky had romanced, none of them had managed to whip him into a mess the way Sadie Reid had. No girl had occupied such a large and apparently permanent space in his head and he'd never even kissed her! But he'd lost count of the number of times he'd thought about it, wondering if she fit as perfectly into his arms as he imagined she would.
Often, Bucky wondered if Sadie would have had such a profound effect on him if they'd met under different circumstances. But every time he dismissed the notion out of hand, because the war had nothing to do with the things he liked the most. When Sadie wasn't around Bucky actively craved her conversation and her witty, if slightly barbed, jokes at his expense. He liked the way her grey eyes alternated between varying mercurial states, revealing her emotions no matter how hard she tried to hide them. There was nothing about her that he didn't want to know and the more Bucky thought about her the worse his affliction got. He was teetering precariously on the edge of falling head right over heels, and the worst part was that he didn't mind the slightest.
The early September breeze rushed past his face, exposed by the open canopy on the convoy. Bucky had settled between Doug Lovitz and Gerald Meyers, the two men uncharacteristically silent. Lovitz kept rolling the gold star of David he carried between his fingers.
"A hospital," he muttered under his breath. "The fuck is wrong with these people? Some things just seem black and white, you know? You don't bomb a godamned hospital. That's one of the rules, right?"
Meyers leaned around Bucky to scowl at Lovitz. "It is a rule, according to the Geneva Convention, at least."
Lovitz's brows furrowed and he shook his head. "Do I look like a professor to you?" He snapped at Meyers.
"The Geneva Convention, idiot," said O'Connell from across their row, his voice barely audible over the rumble of the truck engine. "It's a treaty and one of the rules is that you're not supposed to attack sick and injured troops in the field."
"Oh yeah? Well, tell that to the motherfuckers who bombed our hospital last night," said Lovitz angrily. "Cause I don't think they heard you."
Bucky would have given anything to be anywhere else in that moment. He kept rubbing his thumb over the strap on his rifle, wearing into the rough fabric. It was the smallest outlet he had for his anxiety. The convoys trundled on, but not fast enough for Bucky's taste. He wanted to be at the hospital now so he could see Sadie with his own eyes.
"Has anyone heard how bad it was?" Meyers suddenly asked.
Bucky's stomach twisted into a horrible knot. Lovitz turned to his other side and shouted down the way. "Hey Lieutenant!"
Lieutenant McAllister got up and moved down the row so he could sit next to Lovitz. "What's up, Dougie?"
"Any word on the damage? At the 80th?"
McAllister swallowed hard. Every man in earshot abandoned their conversations to put all of their attention on McAllister. "Yeah," he said at last, though hesitantly. "We heard before we left. The last round of bombers went through at dawn. The last count we received was thirty-four patients injured; forty-seven patients dead; and thirteen hospital staff killed, including two doctors and five nurses."
Lovitz wasn't the only one who swore colorfully at the news. Bucky forced his mouth to remain shut, face contorting. "Jesus Christ, they killed the nurses?"
O'Connell's hollow question hung in the air between the knot of soldiers. "Looks that way," said McAllister heavily. "No names though."
For a split second, Bucky swore that McAllister's eyes flickered to his. "And remaining staff is headed out with us?"
"Yeah," said McAllister. "Their last patients were supposed to go out within the last hour."
McAllister moved back to his place and Bucky forcefully shut out the conversation. Fresh dread settled into the pit of his stomach. Five nurses dead. The words kept echoing in his head, loud and clanging. An then the convoys rolled into a open field and Bucky's mouth fell open, along with every other soldier's.
The 80th Field Hospital was mostly taken apart, but was still in shambles. Spires of smoke rose from several dark patches of earth and a few errant flames even continued to burn from the wreckage of crates, cots, and what looked like a very large tent support pole. The smell didn't reach Bucky immediately, but when it did, he clapped his hand over his mouth and nose. The ashy scent of burnt wood and canvas couldn't cover up the smell of burnt flesh. Crews of men from G Company were loading the remains of the hospitals tents into the 80th's remaining trucks, but Bucky could see at least three destroyed vehicles, each one black and twisted. The last of the tents being dismantled were on the far side of the camp, where Bucky couldn't see.
But perhaps the most jarring sight was that of the rows of olive green mounds in the center of the largest undamaged stretch of the field. At first Bucky couldn't quite believe what he was seeing until he watched two men carry a body over to the rows and lay it down so a waiting nurse could cover it with a green wool blanket. Several staff members sat near the recovered belongings of the hospital, some on supply crates and some on the ground but on each face Bucky could see the shock.
His truck stopped. "Leave your gear," said McAllister as they all clamored to get off. "I want men helping with the body recovery and burial. Bucky, take your squad over to help finish taking down those tents, Captain Willis wants us out of here as soon as possible."
Bucky motioned for his squad to follow him while the rest of F Company scattered, fanning out to relieve exhausted hospital workers. His eyes were everywhere at once, desperate for even a glimpse of Sadie. But, she was nowhere to be seen, leaving Bucky to fear she was beneath one of the olive green blankets. His squad drew nearer to the tents and he saw a sign hammered into the ground reading "Women's camp. Men – announce yourself first!"
The men paused when a redhead appeared from one of the tents. It was Evelyn. Her eyes were red and puffy and widened at the sight of Bucky. She took a shuddering breath and approached him. "Sergeant Barnes, is it?" She asked, her voice trembling over the words.
"Yes ma'am," he replied. "My squad and I were ordered to help take down these tents."
Evelyn nodded. "They're mostly empty, I think. We were just getting our stuff," she said and turned to look over her shoulder where a woman emerged from another tent.
Bucky's heart nearly exploded at the sight of Sadie as she straightened. She stopped dead in her tracks, mouth partially open in soft surprise. The hand holding her bag went slack. It took every ounce of willpower to keep Bucky from striding over to her and sweeping her into his arms where he knew she would be safe. Evelyn hurried to Sadie, instead and grasped one of the four bags that were resting at her feet. Bucky's eyebrows shot up.
"Let me help," said Evelyn in a soft voice.
Sadie brushed a lock of hair behind her ear and shook her head. "I've got it," she started to say but Evelyn took in another shuddering breath and Sadie relinquished her hold.
"I'm not going to lose you, too." Snapped Evelyn in a soft voice. "And if you keep pushing it, you're bound to keel over from exhaustion. Sergeant? Come lend us a hand? The rest of your men are welcome to get to work."
Bucky obeyed Evelyn's summons. "Evie." Sadie had started to protest, but stopped at her friend's fierce glare.
"You know what I think?" Said Evelyn in her persistent wobbly voice. "I bet that Sergeant Barnes can carry all of those bags to the trucks for us, no problem. Can't you, Sarge?"
"No problem," promised Bucky. But his voice died on his lips now that he saw Sadie up close. His face must have betrayed his shock because she immediately recoiled.
"I'm fine," she said in advance of any concerned words he might have had. Her voice was as ragged as she looked. Almost all of her visible skin was covered in dust and dirt, though she had recently splashed her face with water because he could see the paths the rivulets ran down her neck and the hair framing her face was damp. Bucky could see a butterfly bandage covering a nasty cut at her hairline and he could see the beginnings of a large bruise across her left cheek and another forming at the angle of her jaw. Sadie's grey eyes were twin hurricanes, swirling with a dozen different emotions he couldn't read, but he could see the intense sorrow that weighed down her normally straight shoulders.
She looked as though she'd been through hell. "You look the opposite of fine, Sadie."
The words tumbled from Bucky's mouth before he could stop himself. "She needs to see a doctor," said Evelyn staunchly.
Bucky started to pick up the bags, but Sadie grabbed hers from the ground. As she lifted he could see her forearm was covered by a large bandage and her hands were mottled with tiny cuts. Sadie's face wrenched up in pain as she straightened out, an expression she tried to hide by keeping her head down. Now that he was next to her, Bucky could see her wince with every breath she took. "I don't need either of you mothering me. I'm upright, aren't I?"
Without another word, she shouldered her bag and started walking away, a noticeable tilt in her step. Evelyn burst into tears. Bucky watched Sadie in unrestrained shock. He'd been on the receiving end of her barbs before, but she'd never been downright mean.
"What happened?" He asked, doing his best to comfort Evelyn.
"A bomb took out half of Sadie's ward. She was inside when it hit." Bucky's stomach gave an awful lurch. "And then – then. Oh, Sergeant Barnes, Betty died."
And Evelyn dissolved. Bucky paused long enough for O'Connell to come to the rescue before he gathered up what he now knew was Betty's backpack and musette bag, along with Sadie's musette bag. Breaking into a jog, he caught up with Sadie who was moving decidedly slower than usual. He didn't even bother with niceties as he plucked Sadie's backpack off her shoulder and slinging it onto his.
"Buck sergeant," she said, a warning in her voice. "Please don't."
"Don't what?" He asked.
"Don't try and come to the rescue all shining armor and white horse. I don't think I could stand it if you did."
Bucky grasped Sadie's undamaged wrist and brought her to a halt, swinging around to face her. She crossed her arms over her chest, her face hovering somewhere between fury and tears. "Evelyn told me about Betty. Sadie, I'm so sorry," he said. "About Betty and your patients."
Sadie's chest swelled and she blinked hard. But when she turned her face back up to his, she was blank. "Thank you," she said. "But your sympathies can't change anything."
"I'm not trying to change anything or rescue you," Bucky argued. "You've been through a hell of a thing and I just want to help."
"I don't need help," she said coldly, shrinking further and further into herself by the second. "I need to do my job."
Bucky's hands fell from her upper arms. He felt quite stupid, standing before her, laden with four bags and begging for her to let him in. For days he'd thought, just maybe she felt something for him too. He'd tricked himself into believing there was a chance, but as Sadie pulled her things from him, Bucky realized it had just been a dream. Without another word, Sadie walked away, leaving Bucky holding Betty's things, wondering where he'd got it all so terribly wrong.
X X X
The SSR evacuated with the 80th Field Hospital and the 107th to a base camp just off the beachhead north of the Sele River. Destined to stay only long enough to restock supplies and receive replacements, the respite was short, though welcomed. Peggy spent most of it trying to piece together everything of the SSR's that had been scattered in the air raid. They had been incredibly lucky, sustaining only collateral damage during the bombing. The only other good thing that Peggy had identified from the event was the improvement of her opinion of Colonel Phillips. Though was the highest ranking officer in the whole camp, he'd rolled up his shirt sleeves and helped with the wounded just like the rest of the SSR. Peggy walked away with a renewed trust in his leadership, seeing that he cared so much about his men.
She'd stopped to check on Sadie Reid and Evelyn Lewis, too, hoping to provide some comfort for her grieving friends. A crew of replacements had been brought in from Sicily to fill in the gaps in the 80th's staff, and many of the nurses and doctors had been temporarily relieved of duty to rest and heal. The replacements were to go north with the rest of the 80th, and they weren't the only ones. Peggy spent one of her mornings watching the 107th perform marching drills and PT, incorporating their newest batch of replacements as well.
Three days after arriving at base camp, the SS Susan B. Anthony dropped her anchor just off the shore. The liberty class cargo ship had been dispatched to carry the 107th, 80th Field Hospital, field kitchen, supporting staff, and the SSR north up the Western coast of Italy to the coastal town to Sestri. From there an SOE operative was to intercept the SSR with fresh intelligence before the entire party moved eastward, bound for the principality of Azzano Decimo. The painstaking process of loading the vessel took two days, but at long last Peggy stood on the upper deck of the vessel, watching the landing craft as they returned to the shore.
The Susan B. Anthony had started as a cargo vessel before she'd been gutted and turned into a troopship. From her vantage point, Peggy could see the troop trucks, jeeps lining the deck. As she watched several crewmen moving along, checking that each vehicle was securely fastened to the deck, a figure came into view.
"Oh God," said Peggy with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. "It's too early for this."
A man strolled along the deck. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of round sunglasses, though the smirk on his face was evident, even from a distance. But his irritating little smile and mustache weren't nearly as shocking as the tan three piece suit he wore with crisp white shirt and dark red tie. He stuck out among the crewmen and soldiers like a sore thumb in a sea of olive drab.
"Agent Carter!" The man said in a rather loud, buoyant voice. "Miss me?"
Peggy crossed her arms over her chest drumming her fingers on one arm. "Mr. Stark, how nice of you to join us."
Howard's grin widened and he withdrew his hands from his trousers pockets spreading his arms wide open. "And miss all this?" He asked.
Several soldiers stopped and watched, slack-jawed as Howard strolled on by. Either he was completely unaware or couldn't have cared less whether people stared or not. "I trust someone showed you to your cabin?"
He came to stand next to her, facing out over the shoreline. Nodding, he held out a hand which Peggy shook. "Well, it's not the double suite with salon and sundeck I requested, but as long as there's turndown service, I think I'll survive."
Peggy shot him a sidelong glare. "We've been sleeping in tents and foxholes since landing in Italy, this ship is paradise for most of us," she remarked dryly. Howard sobered at her words and they watched as a group of soldiers walked by, slowing down at the sight of Howard's suit and Peggy wearing her Class A's.
But, as Peggy expected, Howard couldn't keep his mouth shut for much longer. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder towards one of the doors that led to the higher decks where the SSR cabins and work rooms were, along with the cabins for the nurses. "You know, coming down here I saw a whole group of women wearing men's uniforms?"
Her lips tugged into a small smirk. "Those would be the nurses with the field hospital."
"Nurses running around in pants, what'll they think of next," he wondered, though he sounded more amused than anything else. On the shore, Peggy could see crews of men loading large supply crates onto trucks. "Beautiful country," remarked Howard.
"Yes, I was particularly impressed by Sicily," she remarked mildly.
"But this is all no good. To really experience Italy you have to tour the Lombardy region. We could drink a little wine, soak up the rays at Lake Como, how about it, doll?"
Peggy found herself somewhere between exasperation and amusement. The corners of her lips threatened a smile, but she kept it at bay. "Perhaps I should remind you that you're here to consult for the SSR on HYRDA. To the best of my understanding that doesn't include shameless flirting and drinking valtellina whilst lazing around."
"Well," said Howard with a cocksure smile. "I'm happy to help you broaden your understanding of my job duties."
Peggy arched an eyebrow, her fingers itching to smack the smirk clean off his face. "Tempting," she said, sarcasm dripping from her voice. "But I'm not interested and I'll thank you not to call me 'doll' again. Now that you're finally on board, perhaps you'd like to get started? I have intelligence briefings for your review and Colonel Phillips would like to meet with you once we're under way."
Without waiting for him, she began walking towards the staircase that led to the SSR's cabins. "Of course, just as long as I have time to change before cocktail hour at five."
X X X
Sadie hissed as a set of cool fingers gently prodded the narrow, brilliant purple bruise that spanned her back. "It's going to hurt for a while, I'm afraid," said Doctor Holmes. "Though it's not spreading, so I can go ahead and rule out any internal bleeding. You can sit up, now," he said and carefully shut the back of the examination gown that Sadie wore, covering up the length of her bare back.
Evelyn took her friend's elbow and helped her back upright. The three of them were in one of the small makeshift exam spaces, created in a smaller cabin using partitions. It wasn't ideal, but served its purpose of giving Sadie privacy while Doctor Holmes followed up on her bruising after his initial examination some days before. Evelyn had been keeping a particularly sharp eagle eye on Sadie, as though she half-expected her friend to collapse at any given second. Now that the initial shock of Evelyn's death had worn off, Sadie had come back to mostly her usual self, tainted by the grief she tried to contain and her guilt at the way she'd treated her friends in the initial hours.
Sadie blinked a few times until the initial dizziness in her head faded. "That's good," she said, sitting up as straight as she could.
Doctor Holmes nodded and then motioned for her to raise her arms, which she did with some difficulty. Even days later, parts of her body were sore that she had no idea could be sore. He ran his palms flat from the sides of her hips, gently moving upward, assessing her pain. As soon as he touched her mid-left side she pulled back, grimacing as she did. "I'm more worried about your ribs," he said clinically. "Your x-rays at the base hospital showed no obvious breaks, but ribs six and seven are definitely bruised."
"So taping them up won't help," she muttered.
The good doctor shook his head and with Evelyn's help, carefully peeled her gown away to take a better look at her left side, while keeping her as covered as possible. "Normally I'd recommend aspirin and ice packs. We'll do the best with what we've got. It's going to take time, I'm afraid. I should have kept you at the base hospital."
Sadie made a face. "I am not going to languish at the base hospital over a few bruised ribs," she retorted. "It's already been almost a week, give me another two and I'll be fine."
Doctor Holmes and Evelyn shared a long-suffering look. "Nurses make the worst patients," Holmes muttered under his breath. "Do I need to remind you how you ended up like this? I'm amazed either of us walked away, much less with minimal injury. I'm telling you right now, Sadie, if you overdo things you're going to do even more damage. And I know you're smart enough to know that."
A flush swirled into Sadie's cheeks. Slightly ashamed, Sadie nodded. "Yes, it's what I'd tell any patient of mine," she said.
"I'm going to speak to your superior. Do you think you can manage to stay out of trouble if I recommend that you oversee training the replacements for the next two weeks?" Doctor Holmes covered her side with her gown again, covering up the rainbow bruise on her side. He seemed more exhausted than usual and Sadie reached out, placing a comforting hand on his forearm.
"That sounds like just the thing I need to get back on my feet."
Doctor Holmes graced her with a rare smile. "Good. Evelyn, why don't you help Sadie get dressed and I'll go speak to your CO. I'll want to take another look in about a week, okay?"
"Sure thing, Doc," said Sadie.
X X X
Sadie walked out of the small exam room, rolling her sleeves up as she went. The crisp, salty air filled her nostrils as she breathed in. She'd never seen the ocean until the summer after her first year in nursing school. Betty's family took all three girls to stay for a week at a beautiful cottage on the coast in South Carolina. Then, it had been a chance for the girls to let off some steam and for Betty to meet Charleston's most eligible bachelors. They'd spent three weeks whiling their days playing in the waves and evenings dressed up at cocktail parties and dances. Sadie remembered the swirls of pastel chiffon and crinoline from the soirees, more extravagant than anything she'd seen in Little Rock society. She could see the gin and tonics clinking around in crystal lowballs and hear the lively music from twelve piece bands.
More than that, Sadie remembered the sweet, salty air filling her lungs and the coarse sand between her toes. In the mornings she and Betty would walk along the beach while Evelyn still slept, talking about the string of men Betty's mother introduced them to and making jokes about all of their pretentious qualities. Sadie loved to walk barefoot, feeling the rush of saltwater against her bare ankles and relishing the way her feet sank into the sand. She liked how their footprints disappeared behind them, washed away into anonymity. The sun would crest over the blue horizon as they'd giggle about Mister Connor Cunningham the Fourth's too-tight bowtie. Even now, Sadie could see Betty throwing her head back in laughter, sending sprays of blonde curls cascading down her shoulders.
Back then their lives had revolved around school and Betty's meddling, disapproving mother. Sadie had really thought they could take on the world while they walked the shoreline, making bold promises to become the best nurses in existence and never settle for a comfortable life in a tepid marriage. To them a dispassionate marriage and a life bound to the home seemed worse than death.
It turned out, the joke had been on them all along because Sadie would have happily seen her friend in nearly any situation, if only to see her alive. It felt like a punch to the gut, just knowing that Sadie would never see Betty's mischievous smile or the way she liked to waggle her eyebrows humorously behind her mother's back. Suddenly at a loss for air, Sadie pressed a palm flat over her aching chest. Sucking in a breath, she fought her wince as her ribs violently protested the deep motion. A grimace pulled at her mouth and she turned away from the small hospital ward, walking stiffly down the length of the upper deck to get a better view of the ship.
Sadie knew if Betty were there she would have likely pestered until she agreed to go hunt down Peggy just to get a glimpse of Howard Stark. It all seemed so silly now, she thought sadly. At length, Sadie found a quiet place on the railing and looked out over the open deck of the ship. Many men of the 107th were topside, basking in the sun and drinking up the pleasant weather. This trip was something of a godsend to the men, they'd been in combat conditions for nearly two months, sleeping outside in rough conditions and being off the front line even for a few days made all the difference in the world.
She watched a group of men engaged in a game of poker while a few others slept nearby. A few men walked along the deck in conversation, but for the most part it was still and wonderfully quiet. There was a second deck below Sadie's that jutted further out. From what she could see, it was mostly empty, save a few men. One of those men cut a familiar profile and Sadie's stomach turned itself in a knot.
Sergeant Barnes stood with his back against the railing, immersed in a letter. The sea breeze blew his chestnut hair askew, sending the strands across his forehead. Sadie couldn't see them from so far away, but she knew the exact hue of his blue eyes and the shape of his mouth. He stood with a casual elegance that couldn't be manufactured, as though he'd been born to do things like lean against railings in a mildly disheveled uniform. He smiled at something he read and a fresh crop of guilt sprang up in Sadie's stomach.
To say she'd been cold towards Bucky the last time she'd seen him was something of an understatement. In fact, Sadie had been down right frigid on a level of ice queen proportions. Bucky had offered her his support and comfort and Sadie, in her state of numb shock, rebuffed him entirely. They were friends and yet, Sadie had treated him with all the warmth of an Arctic blizzard. Seeing him now only intensified her guilt, and before Sadie's brain could catch up to her body, her feet were moving.
She made her way to the staircase leading down to the lower deck. The deck was sparsely populated, which suited Sadie perfectly fine. Bucky remained in the same place, one ankle crossed over the other, lower back firmly planted against the metal rail. Sadie's eyes drank in his profile, from his firm chest leading down to his tapered waist. From her vantage point, she admired the strong angle of his jaw that curved around to a slightly stubborn chin. The tips of her fingers twitched and Sadie started at the longing she felt to brush the hair from his forehead and trace his jaw, running down to the hollow of his throat. Sadie knew Bucky was a handsome man, but it wasn't until now that she realized what all the big fuss was about. Bucky turned one of the pages of his letter over, a smile toying at his mouth, and Sadie's knees gave just a little.
Sadie stopped walking, firmly telling herself that she'd come down to apologize to Bucky for her brush-off and ensure that their friendship remained intact. She had not come down to ogle at his broad shoulders and wonder what it would be like to kiss him. Warmth pooled across her upper chest and down the back of her neck. Since when had kissing entered the equation?
But, the answer to that question would have to wait as he looked up, blue eyes finding her almost immediately. Sadie stood, cemented to the metal floor. Bucky's brows snapped together in surprise. "I can go, I'd hate to get in the way of your job," he drawled at length.
Ouch, thought Sadie as a flush stained her cheeks faint pink. "Okay," she said slowly. "I deserved that. Though a hello would have sufficed."
Bucky's defensive demeanor faded away and he appeared slightly mollified as Sadie drew closer to him. "Hello, Sadie," he said, sarcasm still clinging to the edges of his voice.
Sadie wanted to crack a smile at his formal response, but didn't have one left in her to give. For a while they stood in silence, Bucky pretended to read his letter and Sadie wondered if she could actually cut the tension with the blunt-tip scissors in one of her pockets. She found herself looking at the deck of the ship, thinking back to the Queen Victoria. The journey form New York seemed like a another lifetime. Back then Sadie thought that Bucky was just another cocky non-com looking for any chance to flirt with a pretty nurse. She wondered, with a mild sinking feeling, what he must have thought of her.
"You're not seasick this time around," she said bracingly. "The last time we were on a boat together I wasn't sure you were going to make it to dry land."
Bucky dropped his head to hide his small, but rather pleased grin. "It helps that we're not sailing through an Atlantic storm," he noted dryly.
At that moment Sadie wished they really were sailing through a storm. Perhaps then Bucky and she would have something to discuss. As it was, they remained in tepid silence, Sadie staring over the bow of the ship to the crystal blue waters and Bucky continuing to peruse his letter. Sadie knew it would be up to her to spur the conversation along and to get out her apology; but every time she thought of fresh words to say it all sounded insincere. The warmth from the sun bathed her cheeks and she closed her eyes, imagining that they were anywhere else.
A scene formed in Sadie's mind of the Charleston waves and the glorious sunrise. She walked along the shoreline dressed in a pair of high-waisted shorts and a light sweater, holding her t-strap sandals in one hand. Instead of Betty, she could see Bucky walking with her, the legs of his trousers rolled up over his shins and the top few buttons of his white linen shirt undone. He held her hand as they walked in perfectly content silence. Sadie's lips parted in soft surprise at how lovely the whole idea seemed to her. She wasn't sure when her feelings had changed, but she supposed it didn't really matter. Upon opening her eyes, she found Bucky trying not to watch her out of the corner of his eye.
"I owe you an apology," she said at last, still gazing at the sea.
Bucky rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. "You don't owe me anything, Sadie," he said somewhat stiffly.
Sadie looked at him and wished that his eyes weren't quite so blue. "Yes, I do," she said stubbornly. "You were just trying to be a good friend and I was cruel. I'm never cruel, but I was awful to you."
The hard lines of his face softened. "One of your best friends had just died, I think you're allowed some leeway," he said and she sighed, dropping her forehead to rest on her forearms, neatly folded atop the railing.
"I can't believe she's dead," Sadie admitted at last, her voice muffled.
A gentle hand touched her shoulder. Bucky's thumb wore a comfortable path on her skin, rubbing back and forth, sending a jolt of warmth into her skin. Sadie shifted into his touch, wanting as much from his as he was willing to give. "I'm so sorry, Sadie," he said at last. "I know how much Betty meant to you."
Sadie straightened back up, sniffling. She'd kept her tears at bay so far and remained determined to do so. Falling apart now wasn't going to help anyone, especially when Evelyn needed more support than ever. "We roomed together through nursing school. The first time we met I was in our dormitory unpacking and in bounces this blonde wearing bright red lipstick and no regard for personal space." For the first time in days, a faint smile touched Sadie's lips. "Immediately she decided we were going to be the best of friends and I had no choice in the matter. And we were," she added.
Bucky let out a low chuckle. "That sounds right based off our one conversation. She loved you, I could tell."
Sadie shrugged. "I was always a little too straight-laced for her. I used to drive her crazy because I'd never let her set me up with her friends. She used to call me Saint Sadie because I studied all the time."
"You? Work too hard?" Bucky teased lightly. "Impossible."
A half laugh escaped her lips. On impulse, Sadie's fingers trailed to the fine chain nestled against the steel ball chain holding her dog tags. She fished her father's wedding ring and saints medallions from beneath her shirt, rubbing her thumb over the ring. "I was lucky. My father gave me books and my mother taught me to dance, but I never had to marry to keep my family secure. I had the luxury of preferring country roads to cotillions."
Bucky rest his elbows on the rail on either side of his body, leaning back. He pursed his lips to keep his amusement at bay. "I have a hard time picturing you in anything but a uniform," he admitted with a wry grin. "I don't even remember what you look like with makeup."
Sadie wrinkled her nose and gave him a gentle shove. "I can clean up when I want to," she countered.
Dropping his head back, Bucky smiled up at the sun. "Oh, I have no doubt, Nurse Reid."
They were silent a moment longer and Sadie shifted her body, trying to find a position that didn't hurt. She avidly wished she could relax as Bucky did, one fluid line of lithe muscle. As her thoughts had often done in the last few days, she thought of Betty and what she'd say if she could see Sadie now. Betty teased Sadie mercilessly about Bucky after he left the hospital, suggesting that Sadie's feelings were more than friendly, despite her adamant protests to the contrary. But, as she often was in the end, Betty was right. The raw edges of the fresh hole in Sadie's heart ached.
"I drug her here with me," said Sadie.
"Hmm?" Bucky asked, face still turned up to the sky.
"It was my idea to join the army," she said and took a deep breath, ignoring the pain in her side.
"Why?" Asked Bucky, curiosity piquing in his voice as he shifted his attention back to her. A veil of safety had settled over Sadie. The way Bucky gazed at her practically implored an explanation, as though he were desperate to know everything that made Sadie Reid tick. And she suddenly felt she could tell Bucky anything and she wanted to.
"My father died at Pearl Harbor," she said, her voice growing hoarse. "He was on the Arizona. Evie and Betty sat up all night with me when I heard. I thought I'd never recover from the shock. The whole country was in an uproar and all I could think about was how scared he must have been without my mother and I. And my mother, she just – she became this shell of the woman she was, empty and with no purpose. As though her entire reason for living was gone. Even now I think she's just waiting until she can go on and be with my father again."
Sadie found Bucky staring at her, more serious than she'd ever seen him before. His eyes were unreadable, an endless sea all their own. Her lungs grew tight and she turned away, wishing her heart didn't hurt so much. "And I remember looking at her thinking that if I could prevent even one wife or mother or sister from going through that, then I just had to; so I joined the Nursing Corps. Evie and Betty wouldn't let me go it alone and now Betty's dead."
"It's not your fault, Sadie. Surely you know that," said Bucky firmly.
"I do," said Sadie softly. She turned around to leaned gingerly against the back of the railing. Her heart swelled in her chest, uncomfortable as it struggled through each beat. Bucky stood so close to her now she could feel the heat from his body radiate into hers. "But it doesn't ease the pain. I know I need to write to her mother, but how can I find the words to tell her how sorry I am that she's going through the very thing I wanted to prevent?"
Gentle, callused fingertips slid across her palm and Bucky's hand filled hers. He squeezed it, trying to imbibe some measure of comfort into her. Sadie knew that she couldn't, that they were in full view of the entire ship, but she still felt the urge to bury herself in his arms. A tiny voice in the back of her head told Sadie that he would be happy to let her. "You can't take responsibility for every life, Sade," he said, his voice low. "And I understand wanting to shut the world out, but you shouldn't. You have friends who want to be there for you, myself included."
Sadie blinked hard, pushing her tears away. "Oh," she said, finding a watery smile. "We're friends now, are we?"
Bucky ducked his head, chuckling. "Well, we did spend the night in a foxhole and you did stitch me up. I reckon that's enough to make anyone friends."
At long last, a laugh bubbled in her throat. Without thinking about it, Sadie moved her hand against Bucky's, lacing their fingers together. Bucky looked down and she did not miss the change in his smile or the new light that came to his eyes. "I suppose you're right, buck sergeant," she admitted. "I am truly sorry though, for the way I treated you."
Bucky gently rest his shoulder against hers. "Apology accepted, but only if you start calling me Bucky."
Sadie shook her head, smiling broadly. "You may as well give that endeavor up, Sergeant Barnes."
Bucky didn't argue with her. Instead they shared a private smile over a joke only they understood. Sadie's whole body relaxed and she found for the first time days she didn't hurt quite so bad. But the realization of what they were doing came back in a rush when a soldier turned the corner on the deck and she let go of Bucky's hand, and he shoved his hands in his pockets. Her cheeks burned from her flush, what were they doing? Holding hands out in the open and against every rule Sadie had set for herself?
"I should go," she said awkwardly. "I need to check on the replacement nurses and make sure they haven't done more damage than good."
"Yeah, yeah go," said Bucky hurriedly, slightly pink-cheeked. "I promised Dum Dum and Nix a poker game, so I should head that way, too."
They stepped apart and Sadie dared to look up at him through her eyelashes. Bucky looked right back at her, unflinching. "I'll see you around buck sergeant," she said and slid her foot back to take another step. "Though I'd better not see you wounded again."
The familiar, self-assured grin returned. "I'll do my best, Nurse Reid," he said tipping his head toward her. "You stay out of trouble, too."
"No promises," she teased and then bade him goodbye.
Sadie had just turned around and started to walk away when she heard the snap of Bucky's fingers. "Arkansas!" He said, his certain voice carrying on the breeze. "You're from Arkansas."
She turned back to look at him, beaming. "Little Rock, born and raised," she said and then continued on her way. Sadie didn't see Bucky silently clap his hands together in delight at his little victory, spinning on heel and striding away with renewed determination.
A/N: See? I can write fluff! Next chapter features everyone back in action. I can't believe we're at Azzano. Ahhhh.
Anyway, let me know what you think! Like all writers, I love and crave your feedback! Much love - Kappa