Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Angst

Italic = flashback

'internal thoughts'

A/N: Lt = lieutenant; Cpt = Captain; Sgt = Sergeant; Col = Colonel; CP = Command Post

A/N: Ch 10 is split into 2 chapters due to its length. This chapter follows the reader, the next Bucky.

"You know, Bucky and I, we're not going anywhere. You can't get rid of us even if you wanted to, you're stuck with us. We're all going to grow old together, best get used to the idea."

"Assuming we survive this war first."

"Don't worry Steve, we'll survive it. I know we will."

And that is all Steve needed to squash that momentary doubt out of existence. You were never wrong.

It was movie night, and you and most of the boys were sitting in this gymnasium turned into a makeshift movie theatre. Mostly because it was a warm place that wasn't outside, not so much because there was a movie playing. To be honest you had no idea what the movie was about, other than it had John Wayne in it, and he was dressed in what looked like navy dress whites. You weren't paying attention to it, you were sitting in the back and could barely see the screen. Besides you were busy writing a letter to Bucky, well trying to finish one you'd started earlier. Lets face it this letter was turning into a novel, you were now on page 7? 8? Something like that. You just really didn't want to end the letter, it was too much like saying goodbye all over again, so you kept writing.

Suddenly the door beside you swung open loudly and a two men walked in. You knew the moment the two soldiers barged in that your little rest period was over. As they walked down the centre aisle the lights came on and the movie stopped, much to the displeasure of the men watching it. After silencing everyone they told you that the Germans had broken through the line in the Ardennes, and to report to your units ASAP.

The Ardennes, that was a giant forest that covered France, Belgium, and Germany right? You tried to recall from the maps you'd seen here and there. This was not going to be fun. You folded your letter up and stuffed it in your bag.

'Here we go again.' You thought with a sigh, as you got up and followed the boys out.

You weren't even out of the theatre yet and you were already missing it's warmth.

Luckily it was a full moon tonight, which made your life a little easier since you could actually see where you were going and what you were doing without having to juggle a flash light. You scrounged up as much medical supplies as you could steal. You didn't bother asking, in the chaos of organising the immediate deployment no one was going to notice anyways, and you had a feeling this was not going to be a fun one, so best have as much as you could get. You were already hearing the word amongst the boys that they would be low on amo and rations, and there was no winter gear available. Oh yeah, this was going to be just great.

You met up with Roe and the new medic Spina, whom you'd acquired upon your return to France, and split what little medical supplies you had found amongst you. You also threw in the back of one of the trucks every wool blanket you'd stolen from off the beds in the barracks. If you weren't going to be given winter gear, well then you were taking as many of the bases wool blankets you could steal. You also had the great insight to steal some needle and thread, bases never had enough suturing silk on hand and needles were easily lost or broken. And who knows, you might actually end up using them to sew mittens and tuques for the boys.

Yep this was going to be one for the history books, you could just feel it.

They drove you in troop truck as close to the line as they dared, the rest you would walk. At the marshalling area they threw some gas in holes in the ground and lit them on fire for warmth while the men waited for the Officers to figure out what the plan would be.

'Guess the blackout's no longer in effect. The Luftwaffe must be asleep.' You though as you jumped out of the truck.

You quickly began distributing the wool blankets amongst the boys. There weren't nearly enough for all of them, but they could share, and more importantly, they would add them to their gear and carry them into the forest for you.

When Col Sink finally showed up, you made sure to join them by the jeep were he would detail the plan. It was a simple enough plan. Easy Company's job was going to hold Bastogne at all cost. You could just see the causality list getting longer and longer the more Col Sink talked.

Sink jumped back into his Jeep, and before driving off told Winters that no matter what to hold the line.

"Great were going to end up being surrounded aren't we." You accidentally let slip out.

"We're paratroopers, we're supposed to be surrounded." Winters replied with a smirk.

You just rolled your eyes. You were about to give a great comeback when you suddenly noticed soldiers slowly filtering down the road. Some had been patched up, most where in shock, but all were defeated. What ever had just happened to them in that forest, it had been too much for them, and it had broken them.

Your heart sank, and you tampered down the rising dread. You knew that it was now Easy's turn to go into the lion's den, and try to do what these brave men had failed to do… Hold the line.

Your heart broke for these men, you knew they would never be the same again. You wanted to help them, but you needed to think of your boys first. So ignoring your instincts to assess and treat these men, you instead started asking them for their first aid kits. Some handed them to you without hesitation, while others were still so in shock that they just starred at you blankly, so you just quickly patted them down to find what you were looking for. You noticed the boys following suit and began taking whatever ammunition these soldiers still had.

And so on December 19th 1944, Easy Company moved into the woods outside Bastogne, expected to hold it with no artillery or air support, short on ammunition, food, and medicine, and with no winter gear in what history would record as one of the coldest winters of the region.

'God it was cold' you thought as you wrapped the nurses wool cape you'd gotten in Italy tighter around yourself. Turns out Bucky had stuffed another sweater into your duffle bag. With two sweaters on, your coat, and the wool cape you were still freezing, that's how cold it was.

Lucky you, you had a foxhole all to yourself right now. Which sure, if it had been nice and warm out you would of appreciated the attempt at giving you privacy, but it was freezing cold, and you could use someone else's body heat right now. You'd go find another foxhole to jump into later when it would be time for a nap. You usually wandered around when you were awake, making sure everyone was alright, and also in an attempt to stay warm yourself.

You'd determined that Dante was wrong, hell wasn't an inferno, it was freezing cold, and it was here. This was a kind of cold that didn't just settle into your bones, but into the depths of your soul. It was so damn cold that you would warm your hands in the wounds you were treating, taking in what little body heat they had to keep your frozen fingers working. But it was a double edge sword. What little warmth you got was immediately stolen away from the wetness of the blood that leached away all warmth in the freezing cold.

Yes this was hell. Dante was wrong.

You breathed on your hands trying to warm them up before continuing your letter to Bucky. You tried to explain to him just how cold it was, maybe the jittery handwriting would do a better job of it than your words. In this new letter you were telling him about your last little jaunt trying to find 3rd Battalion for some supplies, and ending up on the enemies side of the line by mistake. Something you were sure he didn't really want to hear, but made an entertaining story nonetheless. The shock on all your faces when you'd fallen through a German covered foxhole was priceless. The awkward "Hi" and wave you'd given them, before scrambling out and running back towards the direction you'd just come from. They must have been quite in shock to see a woman, because you never heard any gunshots coming from behind you as you ran away. There were so many holes in your frontline and theirs that it was easy for both side to accidentally wander into the other sides camp. In fact just the other day a German soldier practically walked into Easy's CP just to take a shit.

You sighed and started folding your letter up. Not bad, so far you were only on page four of this one, double sided mind you. You'd decided that when you reached ten pages in a letter it was time to mail it. The boys teased you about the bricks you were mailing, but mostly were amazed that you were able to find so much paper to write on. Cpt Winters knew exactly were it was coming from, as he regularly found himself short on paper to write his reports on.

"Well the way I see it Dick, it forces you to be straight and to the point." Cpt Nixon would tease when Winters would complain about it.

Mail was slow on the frontline, although you'd mailed several letters to Bucky by now, you'd only received one letter from him. You weren't to worried about it, since unlike Bucky's, your headquarters was constantly moving, and the fact that mail made it to you at all was a miracle.

Roe came to find you, telling you to get ready, since as per Winters there was "a lot of shit headed our way".

"I know Eugene." You said as you tucked the letter away. You had actually just been about to get up and make your way to your makeshift aid station.

"Of course you do." Roe held out his hand to help you up.

No sooner were you on your feet that the first shells started landing and exploding around you. Making both of you jump back into the foxhole you'd just gotten out of. It wasn't long after that until you heard the first cries for a medic. Looking at each other, you got back up and started running towards the cry, dodging explosions as you went. 'Here we go again'.

You slid into the foxhole like you were sliding into home plate during a baseball game. Penkala was holding his forearm writhing in pain. You grabbed it to see how bad it was. Luckily for him it wasn't too deep, wouldn't even need stitches. You brushed most of the dirt out of the way, before emptying a pack of sulfa powder over the wound. Roe took out a bandage and wrapped it up. Patting his shoulder you scrambled out of the foxhole in a hurry. Roe looked at you strangely for a second, before he heard another cry for a medic. Scrambling he quickly followed you, but you were heading in the opposite direction.

"You go, I gotta go to the aid station!" You yelled at him as you pointed in the direction of the cry.

You were the aid station, which meant whenever the enemy attacked anywhere on your end of the perimeter soldiers were brought to you first. You'd set up your makeshift aid station not too far from Easy's CP that way you had access to a radio if you needed a jeep to medevac someone.

You'd been lucky, in the last bombardment you'd only had to medevac three to Bastogne, and had only lost one. And now you were just finishing up suturing one of the boys' leg. He was going to be sore for a bit, but he was going to be fine. He wouldn't be coming off the line today.

You washed your hands, threw your bloody instruments into a boiling pot to clean and sterilise them, and began to take stock of what you had left. Which wasn't much. You were down to your last two morphine, you had no plasma, no penicillin, and your sulfa powder was running dangerously low. Bandages were running low, but they could always be macgyvered if need be, and you were running out of thread to use for sutures.

'Great, just great' you thought.

You couldn't even go around asking for your boys' personal aid kits, because you'd already done that and already used most of them. Spina had already gone to the other aid stations to see what he could scrounge up, and had come back practically bare handed. So you had sent Roe to Bastogne to see what he could come back with, and to get a hot meal while he was at it. But you weren't overly hopeful, until this god damn fog lifted you and Bastogne would not be getting re-supplied anytime soon.

All in all, if the enemy decided to make a serious run at you now, you'd be screwed. And it was just a matter of time.

You had walked up to the front of the line, to the edge of the forest and just stood there, hands in your pocket just looking out. Probably not the smartest thing in the world, since you were out in the open, exposed. But there you stood nonetheless. You could sorta see the treeline on the other side through the thin curtain of fog. You imagined it was probably a very scenic area on a clear sunny day, trees covered with a thin layer of snow on their branches, white crisp snow and blue skies. Yes it was probably very scenic when it wasn't littered with foxholes and splintered trees from exploding shells, and you could just walk back to your nice warm house and have a nice warm meal.

As the sun began to rise, you noticed the fog was also lifting. You smiled. 'Finally' you thought as you looked up at the sky and closed your eyes, letting out a sigh of relief.

Sgt Lipton was doing his morning "rounds", making sure the boys where good and just generally trying to keep moral up, when he saw you standing out there on the edge of the tree line.

'Oh that's not good' he thought to himself as he hurried towards you.

Lipton was coming up behind you with every intention of unceremoniously yanking you back off the frontline. It was not a good idea to have their only surgeon this close to the frontline in plane view of the enemy. Regardless of how visible your Medic arm band was. Before he could reach you though, you turned around and started walking back with a smile on your face. Lipton looked at you confused.

"Just wait for it." you said as you continued back towards your aid station. You had a jeep to call.

It didn't take long for Lipton to hear them, and he smiled too. Spitfires and C-47s, they were bringing supplies, there was going to be a drop.

You and Roe rode into Bastogne with a few of the boys to gather up as many supplies as you could carry. As you were gathering supplies in the church, wounded soldiers began filtering in, and you and Roe joined in to help.

After Roe had done all he could, he went to find you. You of course still had lots to do, as there were till some critically injured soldiers to tend to. You told him to take whatever supplies he could and bring them back to the line, you'd follow as soon as you could.

It was nightfall by the time you returned to the frontline. You'd scrounged up some more supplies before you left, and you'd decided it was best to eat your hot meal on the ride back. You'd lingered in Bastogne longer than you had intended to, and you needed to get back as soon as possible. The Germans weren't going to wait long before attacking, especially now that you had been resupplied. They also weren't going to run the risk of you getting reinforcements now that the weather had cleared.

And you were right, the next day they came at you hard. Turns out they were waiting for the weather to clear too.

But your boys held the line.

It was Christmas Eve now, and the cook somehow had managed to make a special stew to mark the event. His version of a Christmas gift you supposed. You weren't exactly sure what was in your stew, but it smelled better than it usually did, so there was that.

Col Sink came by to give Easy some bit of news, just ass most of the men had gotten their food. Pulling out a piece of paper he began reading it.

"Men, General McAulliffe wishes us a Merry Christmas. What's merry about all this you ask. Just this. We've stopped cold everything that's been thrown at us from the north, east, south, and west. Now two days ago, the German commander demanded our honourable surrender, save the USA encircled troops from total annihilation. The German commander received the following reply: to the German commander - Nuts!

For giving our country and loved ones at home a worthy Christmas present, by being privileged to take part in this gallant feat of arms, we're truly making for ourselves a merry Christmas."

This little speech was indeed a Christmas gift, the boys were now chuckling and laughing and saying "nuts" to each other. Their spirits had been lifted, and you were glad to see them laughing. But it did little for you. You scratched at a patch of dry blood on your hand and turned around, hot stew in hand you walked back to your aid station.

You sat on a log and began to eat. You looked down at the blood soaked ground. Everywhere around you there was white snow, and here and there some black earth, except here. Here the snow was red, the dirt had a red tinge to it, and you could smell the faint smell of copper on the crisp winter air. The smell would have been stronger if the ground hadn't been frozen. You should know, you had been on the beaches in June. The mix of blood, rotting flesh, sea salt, sand, gun powder and smoke was something you'd never be able to forget. Recalling the smell made you loose your appetite and you put your bowl down. You went back to staring at the ground in front of you, your mind going to all the men that had contributed to the stain in front of you.

You hadn't realized you'd started crying until your cheeks started freezing from the wetness. 'Great, now I'm going to get frostbite from crying, just fantastic' you thought as you wiped your cheeks dry. God you missed being warm. You pulled the nurse cape out of a box and draped it over yourself. You should go find a napping partner for warmth, you were so tired all of a sudden, but all you did was slide to the ground. There was only one napping partner you wanted and he was thousands of miles away doing god knows what. You pulled one of your sweaters up as you tucked your face under the collar. It didn't even smell like him anymore. This brought on another round of tears, one you couldn't stop, and you fell asleep crying.

When the bombardment started that night, and Cpt Winters started yelling for a medic, you just sat there and didn't move. You couldn't do this anymore, you just couldn't. You couldn't patch up another mangled body, couldn't cut into another one, couldn't feel their warm blood on your hands, you couldn't loose another one. You closed your eyes and tried to ignore the cries for a medic. Tried to ignore your body's almost pavlovian response to the cry for help, the innate need to help. Mentally you couldn't do this anymore, you couldn't wipe away the blood anymore, there was too much blood. They just kept coming, no matter what you did, they just kept coming, with no end in sight. They said your touch was a gift, it felt more like a curse. You never wanted to touch another wounded man again.

Heffron jumped into the aid station and grabbed your collar, making you look at him, but you weren't seeing him.

"Come on Lt, Cpt's calling for you." He yelled over the explosions, shaking you in the process.

The jostling seemed to put the despaired thoughts back in their places and snapped you out of your frozen state. Letting your body take control over the situation.

"Right, right." you said as you got up and ran towards the screams.

On December 26th 1944, Patton's Third Army broke through the German line, allowing supplies to come in and the wounded to be evacuated.

You breathed a sigh of relief.

Jan 2nd 1945

Easy had held the line at Bastogne, and now was needed to push the Germans back through the Bulge. Easy Company would be sent to clear the Bois Jacques just outside the town of Foy. You knew this was just the first step in what would ultimately be an assault to retake the town from the Germans. Clearing the woods would be relatively easy, and should be relatively low on casualties, you hoped. If nothing else you were out of your foxholes and walking, keeping yourselves warm…ish.

Everything considered, clearing the Bois Jacques was a relatively pleasant mission. The weather was clear, there was no shelling or exploding trees, no one was shooting at you, all in all a pretty peaceful walk in the woods. But the forest had to end at some point you supposed, and with the tree line approaching it meant it would be time to dig yourselves back in.

The most exciting thing that happened while clearing the woods was Hoobler finally getting the Luger he'd been wanting since Normandy. It was quite a story, he'd shot the German officer while he was riding away horse back. It had been quite the shot on Hobbler's part. You chuckled as he went around from foxhole to foxhole showing off his prize and retelling how he got it.

"Hey Hoobler, be careful with that thing, don't got shooting yourself in the foot with it." You told him as he went by you to go to another foxhole to retell his glorious story.

"I won't!" he yelled back at you, giving you that cocky childish smile of his. He was so proud.

You just shook your head chuckling and went back to digging. Something was nagging at you though, and after a few more shovel fulls you planted the shovel into the dirt and went after him.

You'd barely made it a few feet when you heard the shot. A few seconds after you started running you found him on the ground writhing in pain, garbing at this leg. You saw the red spot growing on his leg, as you got to work. 'Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.' It wasn't long until others joined you. You vaguely remember Lt Compton and Sgt Lipton yelling about keeping Hoobler warm and trying to keep him focused on them and not what you were doing. You cut and ripped through his many layers of clothes to get to the hole in his leg. That's when you realised he was bleeding too much and too fast. 'Shit, shit, shit.'

Roe joined you, quickly realising what was going on he quickly joined in. You pulled out a pair of clamps, while Roe started to make a makeshift tourniquet. Not being gentle, you jammed the clamps into his leg through the hole, and going purely by feel you tried to get at the artery you knew was severed. By the time you got it though it was too late.

Lt Compton had been trying to get your attention by calling out your name.

"Y/N!"

Hoobler had stopped writhing a few moments ago. You looked up, seeing the look on his face and the colour of his skin, you brought your blood soaked fingers to his neck to check for a pulse. You sighed in defeat and closed your eyes, as you let yourself sit down unceremoniously onto the ground. The others followed suit, as the reality of the situation hit them, Hoobler was dead.

You tried to wipe your hands on your pants, before you brought one up to your forehead, willing yourself not to cry, smearing some blood on your face regardless. You closed Hobbler's eyes, licking your thumb you tried to clean the bloody stain you'd created when you'd checked his pulse. A bright red stain on pale white skin. Someone handed you a blanket, and you covered him up. Knowing that he was in your care, the boys began to get up and walk away, going back to the task at hand of digging themselves in.

You eventually made it back to your aid station, you still needed to finish digging it out and reinforcing it. To your surprise you found that the boys had finished it for you. Don't get me wrong, you were grateful, very grateful. It's just now you had no excuse to not fill out your casualty report and give your report to Winters. Two things you really didn't want to do. Out of a box you pulled out the casualty report form. Leave it to the military to have a standard form to fill when someone got injured or died, a fill in the blanks type form. You'd filled out so many of these. 'We seemed to run out of everything except these stupid pieces of paper' you huffed as you sat down to fill it out. You hated casualty reports, they were cold and impersonal, boiling down a whole life into a list of wounds and cause of death. Reflecting nothing of who the person had been, and the impact they had had on the people around them.

But then again, it was still better than having to write a condolence letter to the family. You honestly didn't know how Winters did it. How many of those letters had he had to write so far? How many more would he have to write before this shit show was over?

You looked at the piece of paper in your hand. Everything about this sucked.

It didn't take long for you to fill out the report, and once done you braced yourself and headed over to the CP. As you got there you found out that Sgt Lipton had already given Winters a verbal report of what had happened, you made a mental note to thank him later, and so you handed him your sheet of paper and went to leave when Winters offered you a cup of hot something. You'd like to call it food, but that would be too generous. But you were grateful for it nonetheless, it was hot at least. You sat down and began drinking it.

Jan 3rd 1945

Col Sink came by, and brought with him a camera crew. You avoided them and they avoided you, you weren't part of the narrative they wanted to tell, and you were fine with that. It seemed to make the boys happy to be filmed though, all hopeful that their families back home would get to see this.

You'd joined the CP for what you knew was going to be a briefing on the upcoming attack of Foy. You were a conundrum Col Sink didn't want to think about. As far as he was concerned, you were a darn fine person, and an even more exceptional nurse and "surgeon", it's just you were a woman, and on the frontline, and that went against every male instinct he had. But Sink was a practical man. His men needed a surgeon, and he technically had one. Plus he couldn't deny your uncanny sixth sense, that had on more than one occasion saved a lot of lives. And to make things worse, you also had a good tactical mind as well. You would of made one hell of a soldier, had you been a man.

Just before the briefing was about to begin, you walked to the side. Joe Toye had suddenly showed up, arm still in a sling, he'd decided he'd had enough of the field hospital. He took off his sling, trying to convince Cpt Winters that he was more than fine to return to the line, Winters looked at you telling you it was up to you and not him. You looked at Joe up and down, weighing your options. You hesitated for a moment, before you told him to come see you every day so you could make sure he was healing properly, otherwise you'd send him back.

"I mean it Joe." You said in your best 'mom' voice as you pointed your finger at him in warning.

"I will. I promise." Hiding his relief, Joe begrudgingly said before he walked away.

By mid-afternoon the shells started raining down. Trees and dirt exploding everywhere.

When the bombs started falling, instead of running towards the aid station you started running the opposite way. 'Damnit!' You should of known. Why had you agreed? You should of sent him back.

Trees were exploding all around you. Suddenly you were thrown to the ground by a the explosion of a shell that landed a little too close for comfort. Stunned, it took you a moment to realise that the shelling had stopped, as dirt, snow and branches fell gently to the ground. Shaking your head clear, you got back up on your feet and started running again towards your destination. That's when you saw them. Oh this wasn't good. Bill Guarnere was holding up a wounded Joe Toye and he was trying to head towards the aid station, until he saw you heading their way. And just as quickly as the first barrage ended a second one started. Dodging falling branches and flying dirt and rocks you sped up towards them as the two men tried to find cover.

TBC in Ch. 10.5