So I'm back! The support on this story has been amazing so far and so sorry I've been gone so long. Life and writing block combined make writing extra hard. For those of you worrying, I'm still working on this story. Don't worry, just been a little slow-going lately.
This is a nice long chapter to make up for it, though! And this chapter the main enemy is Nazis. I really wanted to do a chapter where Cap and the Commandos weren't fighting Hydra and maybe experiencing different sides of the war, so this is what happened. Lots of fun history references in this chapter for those of you who like history!
Anyway, a few warnings for this chapter, there are (non-explicit) mentions of rape, mentions of concentration camps, more graphic violence in this chapter. The concentration camp mention is near the beginning of Steve's POV, and the rape mention not quite halfway through the chapter. Just wanted to let you guys know. Be safe, friends.
Enjoy!
1 month later…
End of May, 1944
The SSR base was abuzz with news about the war. Steve spent so much time off base with the Commandos, seeking out Hydra bases to bring down, that he often wasn't on base long enough to hear updates about the war front. But it was nearing the end of May and the main talk was of Operation Overlord, the dropping of U.S. soldiers into enemy territory. Colonel Phillips had only given the specifics of the operation to him and a few other higher ups, including Peggy. The Colonel had also been asked to send a small squadron of SSR soldiers to aid in the planning for the invasion of Normandy that was to take place within the next week or two. Other than that, Colonel Phillips had kept the crucial information and details of the operation under wraps in case of spies or the capture and interrogation of soldiers. But just knowing that the invasion was going to take place was enough for most soldiers, effectively renewing the soldiers' confidence and hope.
Part of Steve wished he could go with, even be a part of the Allied force that pushed into German-occupied France. But he knew, even being Captain America, that he couldn't fight every front of the war on his own. And his main battle was with Hydra. They were just as much of a threat as the Nazis, and it was his job to stop them, to keep them from aiding Hitler's forces in taking out as many soldiers and other innocent people as they wanted.
But for the moment, at least, Hydra seemed to be laying low. Steve knew it wouldn't last, but he also knew he was closing in on the last of the large Hydra bases, and no doubt Hydra and its ruthless leader, Red Skull, were biding their time. So when Colonel Phillips asked him to lead a mission with his Commandos to a town in Poland—dangerously close to their Allied base—that Nazis had taken over, he couldn't say no. Because no matter how much he wanted to take down every last member of Hydra, he also had to remember that he wanted to join the war to stop Germany too. And this would give a chance to do that. And with the air around base energized with thoughts of the impending U.S. push into German-occupied territory, there wasn't a better time than now.
The other Commandos seemed pleased as well.
"'Bout time we got to take on some good ol' fashioned Nazis," Morita beamed as they were packing up the trucks to head out.
Once the trucks were all loaded up, they all found their seats and headed out. Steve was seated in between Bucky and Natasha, examining the map laid out on his lap. Gabe Jones and Dernier were up front, conversing in French. Natasha was fiddling with one of her knives, seemingly not paying attention to anyone else, but every once in the while Steve would catch her smirking out of the corner of his eye and he figured she was listening in on Gabe and Dernier's conversation. Bucky, Falsworth, Morita, and Dugan were having a conversation as well, though there was more swearing than actual words, making it hard to pick up on what they were actually talking about.
"All right, Cap," Dugan piped up. "What's the plan here?"
"The eight of us will split up into two teams," Steve started, loud enough for Gabe and Dernier to hear in the front. "Bucky, Natasha, Falsworth, and myself will take the north entrance to the town. The rest of you will cover the south entrance. Some of soldiers in the other truck will stagger along the sides to catch any stragglers and the rest will join us once we've gotten past the initial defenses. From out intel we know there's anywhere from eighty to a hundred Nazi soldiers still in town."
"That sounds like a lot for a small town," Falsworth commented.
Steve nodded. "There weren't that many stationed there after the town was taken, but a couple dozen or so arrived yesterday to help move supplies out."
"Supplies?" Morita asked. "What kind of supplies?"
"There's a metal factory there," Steve replied. "That's why the town wasn't completely evacuated like most of the other Polish towns at the beginning of the German invasion. They were forcing most of the civilians to help in the factory, making weapons, bullets, parts for vehicles. But the metal supply has run dry, or they ran out of funds, we're not completely sure. Either way, the Nazis' are heading out. They're getting as much supplies out as they can, and god only knows what will happen to the civilians."
"Concentration camps, most likely," Natasha said, hardly looking up from the knife glinting in her hands. She didn't raise her voice hardly at all, but the sentence rang around the inside of the truck like she'd screamed it.
Along with news of the impending Operation Overlord, more news about the German's horrifying labor and concentration camps had started going around base. In the beginning of the war, the news of these camps had been nothing more than a trickle of half-concrete information. Now it was a flood, and the Allies knew for sure that the camps that they had thought couldn't be anything more than half-real nightmares were, in fact, very real. From what he'd heard on base, it sounded like the Allies were closing in on locations for some of the camps and were preparing to liberate those held prisoner. But first more Allies had to get into Europe, had to push back at Germany, and that meant success in the invasion of Normandy.
"There's a labor camp not far from the town," Natasha continued, snapping Steve out of his thoughts.
The other Commandos were staring at her and she finally looked up from the weapon in her hand. "What?" she said. "You're not the only ones with sources."
"It doesn't matter anyway," Steve cut in, "because we're going to get there and stop them before they hurt any more people."
They all nodded in agreement to that and then they all fell silent.
When they arrived, they parked a mile away, pulling the trucks into a clearing just inside the woods that ran along the east side of the town. Steve debriefed the men in the other truck that Colonel Phillips had sent along for the mission, going over the plan, while Bucky and Natasha scouted ahead. Steve finished the debriefing and he went around to the different teams, making sure they were ready. Bucky and Natasha came back and gave the go-ahead, telling them all that no one had seen them coming into the area and that they were clear to move in close to the town.
Steve gave them all a few last parting words of encouragement before they split off into their respective teams and headed through the trees to the different ends of the town. Steve carefully led Bucky, Natasha, and Falsworth to the north end of town, finding a spot behind a waist-high brick wall. They crouched down low, before Steve stuck his head out far enough to assess how many enemies were. He spotted at least a dozen Nazi soldiers right near their current position. They were monitoring half a dozen trucks that were being loaded with supplies from the factory and what looked like other goods, most likely stolen from the citizen's homes. There were probably a dozen or two able-bodied men and women loading heavy crates and boxes into the trucks. Any time one of the civilians even twitched in the wrong direction, the Nazi soldiers would yell at them in German, raising guns or batons above their heads, ready to strike, the enslaved people cowering in fear.
Steve clenched his jaw, tightened his fists, resisting the urge to jump out of their hiding spot right that second. Instead he turned back to his team and relayed what he saw. None of them looked real happy about it either. Bucky muttered under his breath angrily and Natasha's eyes flashed with rage, though she kept the rest of her features schooled. Falsworth was quiet but his jaw was tight and his hand itched towards his gun.
"Ready?" Steve asked them quietly, meeting each of their eyes. They all nodded. He let his eyes linger on Natasha a second longer. Her expression was unreadable, as usual, any emotion so carefully concealed. But just as he was about to give the signal to alert the rest of the teams, he swore he saw her smirk just the tiniest bit.
"Let's go," he announced. He gave the signal and then charged out to meet the enemy.
-:-
Steve's team came out so fast the Nazi soldiers' reaction was delayed, all of them momentarily frozen in shock, eyes on the red, white, and blue blur that Steve was. Natasha, Bucky, and Falsworth all fired their weapons as Steve threw his shield, and the sudden onslaught seemed to jolt the Nazis into action. Bullets hailed down on them, causing them to make a more cautious approach. Dugan's team was quickly making their way towards them, pushing through the Nazis that had been more on the south side where they'd been positioned.
Steve barreled through a couple soldiers, wrenching away ones gun before catching his shield and bringing it down on their skulls. They dropped quickly and he raised his eyes in search of his next target. As he scanned the battlefield, he saw Natasha and Gabe leading away the frightened civilians, though, with a heavy heart, Steve saw a couple of them lying on the ground, pools of their own blood steadily getting bigger around them. Either caught in the crossfire or purposely executed by the German soldiers. Bucky was heading towards some of the buildings where there were probably a dozen more soldiers, some grabbing civilians and dragging them off between the buildings. He darted off in that direction, giving Bucky a nod as he reached his best friend's side.
The second they got close to the narrow alleyway between the buildings, shots rang out. Steve pulled his body tight against one wall, Bucky doing the same with the other.
"Shit," Bucky muttered as a few more shots were fired, the bullets spraying against the stone wall close to where Bucky was.
"Ideas?" Steve asked, glancing over at Bucky.
"Well, I'm thinking since you have the shield, dumbass, you should go first."
"And then what? You gonna jump out and yell boo, hope they go away?" Steve shot back.
Bucky made a face. "Don't be a smartass. I was going to go around, close in on them from behind."
Steve grinned. "Good plan."
"Gee, thanks," Bucky snorted. "If you hadn't been so busy running your mouth, I could've told you my great plan five minutes ago."
Steve just chuckled and shook his head. "Ready?"
"Go," Bucky finished and quickly started to make his way around the back of the building as Steve swung out and positioned himself at the mouth of the alley.
Steve crouched low, bullets ringing against the vibranium of his shield. He pressed forward, forcing the soldiers back. They were shouting in German, combining with the sound of metal against metal and the whimpers of the civilians they were holding hostage behind them. One bullet went wide, tearing through the fabric and grazing his arm. He grimaced, but ignored the pain. Keeping the shield steady on his left arm, he pulled his pistol out from its holster, quickly swinging his arm out from behind his shield and fired multiple times. Two soldiers went down immediately with short cries of pain, bright blossoms of red spreading across their uniforms. Steve had only hit the other in the side, and though the man was clutching the wound tightly, he was still standing.
The wounded man and the remaining soldiers backed up slowly, both defiance and fear flashing in their eyes. Before the Nazis or Steve could take another step, Bucky appeared behind them, gunning down two of them right away. Steve used the opportunity to throw his shield, the vibranium disc connecting with the injured man's neck, effectively downing him.
"Come on, Steve, the last two took the civilians this way," Bucky said, heading forward towards the other buildings.
Steve barely heard him as he bent down as placed two fingers to the injured man's neck. He waited ten seconds…then twenty. Nothing. He was dead. Steve frowned. Yes, the Nazi soldier would have not have hesitated to kill him or Bucky or any amount of civilians, so Steve did what he had to and took him out. And he was a Nazi in the first place. It didn't mean he enjoyed it. Lying on the ground, blood leaking from the wound Steve had inflicted, he looked like any other man.
Bucky had noticed his hesitation and stopped in front of him, crouching down so he could meet Steve's gaze. "Steve," Bucky started, voice calm but firm, only a partial reflection of the angry fire in his blue eyes. "I know you only like to kill when it's necessary, but this was necessary. The last thing we need is more civilians to die because of these bastards. Or running off and telling fucking Hitler what went down here today. Now get the hell up because you're Captain fucking America and there are more civilians that need our help."
Steve nodded, clenching his jaw and standing taller than before. Bucky stood too, a grim smile on his face.
"That a boy," Bucky remarked.
"Let's go," was all Steve said, leading the way towards the other buildings.
They split up just like before, hoping to crush the last two soldiers between them before they could kill the innocent people they had with them. As Steve closed in he could hear shouts in German and the responding cries and wailing of the terrified civilians. He reminded himself that these were bad people, and killing them was a necessary evil. He braced himself to jump out, but before he could, he heard Bucky shouting.
Steve jumped out and took in the scene. There were four civilians huddled along the wall on his right. There was one woman pinned against the opposite wall, tears streaming down her face, her skirt hiked up much too far. The soldier that was pinning her there had just reached down and undone his zipper when Steve saw Bucky go for him. The pieces clicked into place for Steve as he went for the other soldier guarding the other civilians. His earlier guilt didn't even matter as he shot the man in the kneecap. The Nazi soldier howled in pain, falling to his injured knee. Steve shot the other knee out, and somewhere deep inside of him he enjoyed the way the map screamed out in agony. The soldier fumbled with his own gun, but before he could take a shot Steve had swung out his shield, connecting with the man's temple with a sickening crunch. The man dropped like a stone and Steve didn't need to check his pulse to know that he was dead.
He gave the people a quick reassuring look before turning back to Bucky. The woman had tried to make herself as small as possible, crouching low against the wall, knees tucked up to her chest. She was still crying but watching Bucky as well. Bucky who had the Nazi soldier who had attacked her on the ground.
"Fucking Nazi bastard," Bucky ground out angrily, driving the toe of his boot into the man's stomach. Bucky repeated the motion till the man was clutching his hand against some surely broken ribs and coughing blood up into one hand.
Steve cautiously approached Bucky, something in him unable to make him step in just yet. The Nazi scrambled for his gun that had fallen in the dirt but Bucky stomped down on his fingers and Steve could hear several bones snap, even underneath the shout of pain from the man. Bucky crouched down, fisting his hands in the man's jacket. The soldier struck out with a fist of his own, connecting with Bucky's jaw, but it barely seemed to faze Bucky, who delivered three solid punches of his own. "Sick son of a bitch," Bucky muttered, taking out his pistol and shoving it against the man's forehead.
The Nazi soldier just laughed and Steve went to stand by Bucky's side. The soldier continued to chuckle which just pissed Bucky off more. His best friend raised his pistol and struck the man across his temple, gashing open the skin there. The man groaned and then coughed, scarlet coating his lips. The Nazi looked at Bucky before shifting his gaze to Steve. He grinned, teeth red with blood.
"Captain America," he laughed with a thick German accent. "Not even you can stop an entire war. These people…that woman—" he broke off when Bucky punched him again. "these people," he continued with a smug look on his face, "are only a few in the thousands we have already killed. Only a few in the thousands more we will annihilate. Good luck stopping us, Captain—"
"Shut him up," Steve interrupted quietly. But Bucky heard and emptied a bullet into the man's skull, eyes glazing over, the alley now strangely quiet.
Bucky wiped at the blood that had spattered his face, standing up, and giving the man's dead body one last kick before going over to console the woman the Nazi had nearly violated. Steve made one last round around the buildings, not finding anything but the bodies of their dead enemies. He helped Bucky lead the civilians back to the open strip where they'd entered. The other Commandos had rounded up civilians as well and were handing out what food and water they could. Steve did a headcount. His main Commandos were all there. Dugan had a bullet wound in his shoulder, and Morita and Falsworth both had pretty nasty gashes on their heads, but other than that, everyone was mostly just scraped up and bruised.
He wasn't sure about the other men Colonel Phillips had sent with him, the teams he'd placed on the east and west sides of town. They'd all regrouped and he looked around more closely, counting carefully. 12, 13…14…No, that wasn't right. The Colonel had sent twenty men with him. He counted again. And again. Still fourteen. His heart sank. And then it sank even further when he noticed the solemn faces and worse, the bodies wearing U.S. uniforms carefully laid out on the ground next to their trucks, which someone had pulled into town. He walked over to them, their faces etched into his brain whether he liked it or not. He knew their names. He always took care to learn everyone's names. Antonio Garcia, Benny Wise, Jacob Hardy, Walter Olson. Only four bodies out of six missing.
"The other two—Pat and Oscar—were blown to kingdom come," a voice behind him said. Steve turned and saw one of the men Colonel Phillips had sent with him. Steve recognized him. His name was Levi and he knew that the other two guys he'd mentioned—Pat and Oscar—had been his friends. Steve noticed Levi was pretty banged up, dirty and bruised, with what looked like a bullet graze on his leg and a couple of bad cuts on his face. He was twisting two sets of dog tags between his fingers.
"Fucking Nazis blew my friends up," the soldier muttered, seemingly to himself.
Steve reached out a laid a hand on Levi's shoulder. "I'm so sorry."
Levi looked like he was going to say something smart-mouthed in response, something about how sorry wasn't going to fix a goddamn thing, but then his face fell and he nodded, chin wobbling just the slightest. "Thanks, Captain Rogers."
Steve knew he could say nothing else to console him, so he turned and went over to see Dugan and Falsworth. He was just about to ask for an update when he stopped short. He quickly did another headcount, eyes seeking out a particular redhead. He did another count. Nothing. He swallowed down his panic. She wasn't there. Natasha wasn't there.
"Where's Natasha?" he blurted out, swiveling back to look at Dugan and Falsworth. "Where is she?"
"After you and Bucky headed off, she broke off too, going after half a dozen Nazis who were heading towards the factory," Falsworth told him. "I'm sure she'll be back soon."
Steve didn't say anything, but turned on his heel and headed off towards the factory.
"Steve, where're you going?" Bucky called out after him.
"Going to find Natasha, just stay here. Make sure everything's ready to go when I get back," he called over his shoulder.
"Wait, Steve—"
Before Bucky could finish, at the back end of town an explosion ripped through the air, causing everyone to flinch and duck. Steve stumbled back as well, eyes going wide as he realized that the explosion had come from the factory. With hardly a second thought he darted off towards the factory, praying that he wouldn't have to lay Natasha down with the dead.
-:-
When Natasha reached the metal factory she realized that maybe running off without some back-up wasn't such a good idea. Taking on six guys by herself was nothing; she'd taken on more than that at once before. The problem was that the Nazi soldiers knew all the little nooks and crannies in and around the factory. She didn't. But Steve and Bucky had gone after a group of Nazis and the other Commandos and soldiers had been busy. So when she'd seen the group of German soldiers heading off towards the metal factory, she'd done the right thing and gone after them.
She'd started off fine on her own, like usual. She'd gone in through a side door, searching the ground level first. It was a fairly small factory, only about 200 feet long and 100 feet wide. The ceiling was also close to 100 feet over her head, with a few catwalks stretched out across the width about half way up the height of the building. There was still some larger equipment and some crates and boxes left on the ground floor, but otherwise everything else had been cleared out already.
She skirted her way around a couple barrels of fuel for the machines, following the chatter of voices she could hear echoing in the air. She stopped behind one of the cluster of machines left, the spot giving her the perfect view of the soldiers she'd followed. They were rummaging through a couple crates, scrambling, looking nervous. They were talking quietly in German, voices too low for Natasha to make out what they were saying. Then, one of them, looking more towards the back than the others, shouted and went behind a larger group of crates. Seconds later Natasha heard screaming that definitely wasn't from the German soldier. She tensed, watching as a moment later the soldier dragged out a woman and a young boy.
"Bekommen die anderen!" he shouted to his fellow soldiers. Get the others, she translated in her head.
She hated waiting for the soldiers to grab the other civilians but she had to see how many were in danger. It seemed like forever, the factory filled only with shouts in German and the cries of the townspeople in the Nazis' clutches. Natasha watched as the other soldiers rounded up an elderly man and kids. The rest were kids. Clearly not all belonging to the woman. Orphans, she thought, her heart crawling into her throat right before she swallowed it down again. The Nazi soldiers rounded them all up in a circle, the woman and the elderly man placing themselves in front of the children.
Natasha didn't even wait for the first Nazi to cock his gun before leaping out and attacking them. They reached for their guns after she'd already taken down two of them. She charged at a third, twisting her body to duck out of his reach as he moved to punch her. She kicked out his knees, bending him backwards as he fell. Then, in one swift move she broke his neck and he crumpled to the ground. She twisted his gun out of his lifeless grasp and effectively shot the fourth and fifth soldiers right in between the eyes, blood spattering out and their bodies dropping like rocks to the hard floor below.
She rose, turning towards the last soldier. He had his gun aimed at the cowering children. He met Natasha's gaze steadily. She shook her head slowly, warning him against shooting any of the civilians. He wouldn't be able to. The second his finger so much as twitched against the trigger she would shoot him down. The Nazi soldier seemed to understand this as well. He paused and then grinned.
"Wenn ich sterbe, wir alle sterben," he said loudly.
Natasha barely had time to process his words—if I die, we all die—before he was dropping his gun and then swiftly reaching for a grenade on his belt. Momentarily frozen, Natasha watched as he pulled the pin and tossed it towards the barrels of fuel. That kicked her into action and she shot him, darting over to the civilians before his body had even hit the ground. Natasha had just barely gotten them all behind the nearest piece of machinery before the grenade exploded against the fuel barrels, turning the factory into a ball of fire.
Heat seated against Natasha's body. She gritted her teeth, shielding the little boy closest to her. When the initial flames died down, she jumped up right away, gesturing to the woman and the elderly man.
"Come on," she said quickly, not sure if any of them spoke English. She clenched her jaw. Of all the languages she spoke, Polish was not one of them and at the moment it was truly inconvenient. But the woman and the old man both nodded, seeming to understand her tone if not her words. The woman spoke a few words in Polish to kids and they all got up quickly, understanding the gravity of the situation.
The adults of the group started leading the kids towards the opposite wall, a different way than Natasha had come in. she figured they knew the factory better than she did. Looking over her shoulder as they made their way to the exit Natasha noticed that the fire wasn't too bad, but it was uncontrolled and it would only get worse. They had to get out now.
But that's when she heard the chatter of a machine gun. Bullets sprayed the crate next to her, sending splinters of wood dancing through the air. A couple of the kids screamed but a quick look at them told her it was from fear and not from being shot.
"Go! GO!" she shouted at the woman and old man, not caring if they could understand what she was saying. Either way, the message got across and they kept low, leading the kids out of the building.
Natasha swiveled her head upwards, eyeing the shooter on one of the catwalks. A quick scan told her he wasn't the only one up there, either. There were at least two others up there that she could see and possibly more in the building. Ignoring that thought, she moved back towards the door she'd come in by, remembering seeing a staircase there. She took the long way around, avoiding the fire. There were a few more shots from the machine gun, but she stayed low, avoiding them.
She made it to the stairs. About halfway up she turned to see machine-gun guy getting ready to fire again. She raised the gun she'd stolen from the Nazi soldier earlier and fired her own shot. The bullet hit the Nazi in the leg. He howled, dropping his gun. Natasha used the opportunity to dart the rest of the way up the staircase and finish him off.
Natasha charged across the catwalk towards the next Nazi. He lifted his gun and fired just as she dropped her body down low, swinging out a leg and knocking him off balance. He fell hard, the top half of his body stretching out over the edge of the catwalk. He scrambled for the railing, but with the assistance of gravity and a little nudge from her, he toppled the rest of the way, screaming as he fell into the growing fire and amount of debris below. Natasha leapt to her feet as another Nazi soldier came her way. She tensed, waiting till he was close enough before lunging at him. She wrapped an arm around his neck, twisting him around before yanking his head back roughly by his hair. She grabbed the knife he'd been planning on attacking her with from his hand and swept it across his throat in one deft move, blood spurting out against her face and neck, droplets speckling her lips.
His body dropped and she continued to make her way across the catwalk, towards the door on the other end of the catwalk that led out of the factory. There was an explosion from below, Natasha's hands shooting out to grab the railings on either side to balance herself. The flames were getting higher and the sweat was beginning to drip down her face, the salt mingling with the taste of copper in her mouth. She'd almost made it to the end of the catwalk and the door that would lead her down and out of the building when the sound of footsteps alerted her to the presence of more enemy soldiers.
"Dammit," she muttered under her breath, wishing she hadn't been right in guessing that there were other Nazis in the building.
She spun around, using the momentum of her body to even more forcefully throw the bloody knife still in her hand. It hit one of the Germans, sinking into his chest. He collapsed with hardly a sound, gun clattering from his hand. Two more came at her, guns raised.
They started firing, and though Natasha managed to dodge the first few shots, the catwalks were only four or five feet wide. Another explosion shook the whole room from below, startling them all momentarily. Natasha used the seconds given to her and got close enough to actually fight them. The closest man was crouched low, giving her the perfect opportunity to deliver a powerful kick to his jaw and he fell back, surely seeing stars.
The other Nazi, a fairly big man, had recovered from the explosion more quickly and, as she turned to face him, his fist connected with her jaw, her head snapping to the side, blood bursting against her tongue as her teeth connected with the inside of her mouth. She threw up an arm to block him as he moved to punch her again. His face was twisted into a cruel smile, his dark eyes glinting with nothing but maliciousness.
"Fraulein," he teased.
He pressed on, attacking her with as much vigor as she was using to defend herself. He threw out an arm towards her and she spun under it, hoping to get some leverage by attacking him from behind. Then she heard a bang and she barely had time to register that the other man had shaken off his unconsciousness. She cried out and stumbled, the bullet ripping through her left side, white hot like the flames below them.
Natasha didn't even have time to inspect the damage before the Nazi with the evil smile was rounding on her, delivering a kick to her abdomen. She exhaled sharply, the air coming out in a rush. The guy behind her fired again, clipping the outside of her left hip. She gritted her teeth, pushing past the pain, ignoring the blood she could feel leaking from her wounds. She ducked under another attempted punch from the man in front of her, pulling a knife out from her belt at the same time. Leaping back, she turned and plunged the knife into the chest of the man with the gun, who had gotten up right behind her, ready to finish her off. Natasha clenched her jaw, twisting the knife, watching the light die from his eyes, before maneuvering her way behind his body and shoving it at his companion, ripping the knife out from between his ribs as she did so. Evil Grin guy just shoved away his companion's heavy body, sending the man toppling over the railing and into the inferno.
Natasha gripped her knife in her hand, set in a crouch, waiting for the Nazi to come after her. He just smiled that sickening smile and watched her, waiting. She was breathing hard now, and she knew she was losing blood. And fast. The ever-growing flames and heat and smoke weren't helping either. There was a huge crash and sparks and smoke billowed out. Natasha didn't dare look, didn't dare take her eyes off the enemy, but it had sounded like one of the beams in the ceiling and broken away due to the fire and crashed below. The building was falling apart, and unless she could take care of this guy soon, they were both going to die an unpleasant, fiery death.
"Komm schon, was wartest du noch?" she asked in German. Come on, what are you waiting for? His smile grew and he clenched his fists together gleefully.
Then, just as it looked like he was going to attack, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a gun of his own.
"Shit," Natasha muttered as his finger tightened on the trigger. She ran at him, taking him by surprise and dodging the shot. Luckily they weren't separated by a whole lot of space and just as he squeezed the trigger again, she caught his arm and the shot fired up into the ceiling. She twisted his arm fast, causing him to howl out briefly in pain before dropping his weapon. Natasha struck out with her other arm, aiming for his throat with the knife she still held, but he caught her arm. They were locked together, his face screwed up with pure hatred as she tried to drive the knife down towards the fragile flesh of his throat.
Before either of them could get the upper hand another beam fell from the ceiling, crashing into the catwalk right behind the man. They let go of each other as the catwalk broke in two, pieces of grated metal walkway ripping apart with a scream and falling down into the flames. Natasha lost her footing momentarily trying to steady herself as the catwalk swayed dangerously, only half supported now. The Nazi soldier started to recover and Natasha kicked him back. He teetered dangerously on the edge for a moment. God, this guy would just not give up.
Natasha started backing up. There was only one way out of this place now, and she was blocking it from him. He didn't look very happy about it either as he stalked towards her. She gripped her knife, trying to focus. The bullet wound in her side had gone through and through, she was pretty sure, but that didn't mean it was exactly bleeding less. Her side was soaked through, and she wouldn't be on her feet much longer unless she could stop the bleeding.
Out of her peripheral, Natasha could see the walls behind her meaning she was almost to the door. A plan forming in her mind, she tucked her knife back into her belt. If she could just get the upper hand for one second, she could get to the door. Apparently the German wasn't too keen on that idea. He charged at her screaming bloody murder. Natasha was ready, though, and she side-stepped as much as the narrow catwalk would allow her. She braced her hands against the railing and struck out with both feet, landing a solid kick to the man's chest as he turned to face her. He toppled back into the opposite railing hard enough that the catwalk shook. And then it did more than just shake as a couple of the support rails that held the catwalk to the ceiling snapped with the creaking of metal.
The catwalk lurched to the side, and if Natasha hadn't been holding onto the railing, she would've fallen into the fire. She cried out as the motion wracked her body. She looked over her shoulder to see that the Nazi was still hanging on as well. "Stubborn bastard, just don't know how to die, do you?" she muttered, carefully easing her way to the right closer to the platform where the door was.
It was slow going, torturously so. The catwalk continued to move, and Natasha could only wonder how long she had till the rest of it snapped away. Her hands were slicked with sweat and blood, and it was extremely difficult trying to keep her grip on the metal railing. Finally, after an eternity, she was right next to the platform. She gripped the edge with one hand, her fingers sliding into the metal grating for better purchase. She was just about to pull herself up when a hand grabbed her from below.
"Wenn ich sterbe, du kommst mit mir!" the German screamed from beneath her.
If I die, you're coming with me, she translated in her head as he wrenched on her leg, using her to pull himself up. Or her down. It was hard to tell which, and it took everything she had left to keep her grip on the platform as her other hand started to slip from the catwalk railing. She screamed in defiance, striking out with her free leg, her boot connecting with his face with a bloody crunch. She didn't even have to look to see that she'd broken his nose. The combined sound of cartilage being crushed and the string of curses in German were enough. She repeatedly kicked, risking her own grip to get him off her.
Finally, with as much strength as she could muster, she slammed her boot down against his face. His hand was suddenly gone from around her leg and all she heard were the brief seconds of his echoing screams before there was nothing but the sound of fire crackling and the groaning of the building shuddering apart around her. Natasha couldn't do more than cling to her spot for a second. She was breathing hard, not enough oxygen making it into her lungs with the fire eating it up around her. Black spots blinked in and out of her vision, her injuries on fire.
Knowing she couldn't stay there, Natasha shuffled all the way over to the platform, grabbing it with her other hand and hauling herself up with some minor difficulty. She collapsed, trying to catch her breath despite the smoky air. She hadn't even registered that the door to her freedom had opened until Steve's face came into focus right in front of her.
"Natasha?" his voice sounded from very far away. "Natasha, can you hear me?"
Natasha nodded, unable to speak past the blood in her mouth and the lack of air in her lungs.
"Come on, I got you," Steve said, wrapping an arm around her and helping her stand.
She lifted an arm around his broad shoulders for extra support as they quickly shuffled out of the building that was now quickly burning closer and closer to the ground.
"Is everyone safe?" she asked when she could find her voice again.
"Everyone that's still alive, yes," Steve replied quickly, and Natasha noticed a crease of worry right in between his eyes.
"I'm fine, you know," she told him as they broke out into the gray light of day, Natasha sucking in mouthfuls of clean air as they did so.
"I should've been there with you," Steve replied curtly, not looking at her. But his face softened a moment later and she knew he wasn't really upset with her. Maybe mad at himself. But really she knew he was just worried about her. No amount of her reassurance would remedy that. It was in his nature to worry.
"It's not your fault," she told him quietly, pressing a hand to her side with a wince.
"You could've died."
They were almost to the front of the town where their trucks were waiting. Natasha wished they were closer and farther away at the same time.
"Yeah," she murmured in agreement. "I almost did. But I'm okay. I will be okay. I know you hate it when I say it's nothing I haven't dealt with before but," she paused, sucking in a breath, ignoring his worried glance as she pressed harder against her side. "I havebeen through a lot worse. That's not saying much, I know, since I don't talk a—" she hissed in pain, ignoring Steve's look of concern and taking a breath before starting again, "about my past a whole lot, but I…I just need you to trust me, okay?"
Steve was quiet for several steps, Natasha's getting clumsier by the second, Steve's arm wrapping around her tighter as she faltered.
"I do trust you," Steve admitted quietly, eyes straight ahead. "And I know that you can take a lot, but…but it doesn't mean you should have to."
"We're at war, Steve. Bleeding is part of the job description."
"Well, like you said, I don't know a lot about your past—hardly anything, actually—but from what I've gathered…it sounds like you've been bleeding for a long time."
Natasha didn't know what to say that. He wasn't wrong. Her silence was further proof of that. Before she could think of something to tell him, to reassure him, they were close enough to the trucks that the others spotted them. Bucky raced up to meet them first. All he had to do was glance at her to know she was hurt. Natasha saw his eyes darken, his jaw visibly clenching.
"Help me get her into the truck, Buck," Steve said, Bucky already at her other side before Steve finished speaking.
Half an hour later they were driving away. They'd loaded the civilians up into the trucks the Nazis had been planning on using and were taking them back to base until they could be relocated somewhere safe. Natasha was sitting in between Steve and Bucky, quickly patched up until they got back to base. Steve's words continued to play over and over in her head, it sounds like you've been bleeding for a long time. Natasha took a deep breath, trying to push down how shaken up she was about how close to the truth Steve was by having said that. It was unsettling sometimes, how easily he could to see through her. He couldn't always tell when she was lying—he was too terrible of a liar and she was too good of one for that—but he could just look at her and she would unravel at his fingertips whether she wanted to or not. He probably had no idea he was doing it, either. It was just…him. Just by being Steve she could feel the walls she'd spent her whole life building weakening, the capstone to her structure getting looser by the day.
Impulsively, Natasha reached for his hand. She continued to stare at the floor, but she could feel his gaze turn on her in surprise. He continued to hold her hand in his, though. She couldn't think of anything to say to reassure him—reassure him about the people they'd lost that day, her past, about her injuries, about everything—but this was as close as she was going to get for now.
-:-
I will try really, really hard to update as soon as I can! I think we're getting close to the end of the flashbacks for now, so some real exciting stuff is coming up!
Thanks for reading!
-DaughterOfPoseidon333