The truck bumped and skidded over the rough terrain of the forest but no one seemed too disgruntled by it as they mentally prepared for what was coming. It would be the Howling Commandos first coordinated attack on a HYDRA facility and everyone was eerily quiet aside from the rough hum of the truck's engine.

They found themselves in the back of the van under the cover of fabric, appearing to be a HYDRA convoy. Said vehicle had been snatched by the crafty fingers of the blonde seated at the end of the bench, polishing the right lens of her mask.

"Nervous?" Dum Dum Dugan asked her. Ada smirked and lifted her shoulders into a shrug.

"Not really. First time I've done this with a team, but I'm quite familiar with this." Her slim fingers curled around the rag in her hand as she brushed it along the rough, iron stained edges of the mask.

"Where have you seen action before?"

She squinted down at the mask, a small sigh escaping her lips as she pondered the answer to his question. "In and out of Paris but that was more covert. Battle of Britain. Stalingrad."

The truck fell silent once more and Dugan stared at her in complete shock. Ada casually sat the mask down next to her and tossed the rag under her bench before sitting up straighter to face him.

"Stalingrad," he repeated.

"Wouldn't recommend it," she commented dryly. "We held the line until the Nazis retreated but at that point the city was completely destroyed. Our supply lines were nearly gone and I can now guarantee that leather doesn't make a great meal."

It was like the air was sucked out of the room as she looked at each and every man in the truck, a haunted look creeping at the vestiges of her cold gaze. "They're killing people out there. Innocent people. Systemically, violently, in the worst ways a man can conjure up. I pulled children out of the rubble and buried them where I could but it's not enough. It's never enough. So we're going to put these fuckers down into the graves they've been digging for everyone else."

"And, uh, what's the mask for?" Bucky asked.

"Same reason he carries the shield painted with the stars and stripes. A symbol."

The truck started to slow down and Ada looked to her husband. "It's time."

The plan was simple. Intel from prior recon missions combined with a condensed timeline meant there was no need to save anything from the HYDRA base. This was simply a burn and destroy mission while they sought out the main base.

Their presence was a surprise and Steve led the Commandos directly into the warehouse, swallowing down his concern as Ada split off from the group. Her role was to plant a few explosives on the roof to aid in bringing the compound down.

He didn't have time for concern once they were spotted. Shots fired from every direction and he focused on the task at hand. Get inside, plant the bombs, let Jacques do what he does best, and get out. Bullets cracked and ricocheted off of his shield and Steve realized with the slightest hint of dread that what Abraham discussed with him was coming true.

He really didn't want to kill anybody, but this was war. The men around him and the woman on the roof above him all had experience in battle before and Steve soon understood how little he understood about the depths of war before he stepped on the field.

Bucky shot a HYDRA guard off of a patrol tower and immediately reloaded, his steps never faltering next to Steve. Years prior the two Brooklyn natives were shooting the shit outside of Steve's apartment. Now they were thrust onto the world stage with guns pointed directly at them.

The shield arced beautifully through the air and slammed into the chest of one man before flying back into Steve's hands. He had only just started getting used to the vibranium that hung from his arm and even with it being new, it felt right. He felt untouchable on the battlefield and yet he also felt incredibly vulnerable just the same. Pointing his gun and firing, Steve understood that the man slumped on the ground wasn't just another alleyway bully and he certainly wasn't just resting for a bit.

Pushing further into the warehouse, Steve found himself facing six soldiers who immediately turned on him and Bucky. A bullet whizzed by his ear and before Steve could even lift his pistol, a flash of blonde dropped from the second floor balcony. Ada twisted the rifle out of the HYDRA soldier's hands and promptly tucked it under his chin, helping him pull the trigger. With her other hand, she yanked one of her blades out of the sheath on her thigh and flipped it over in her palm, neatly sliding the sharpened metal across the throat of the next man who rushed at her.

It was almost as if she was dancing. Every step and every movement of her hands had a purpose and a meaning. Ada killed these men with practiced ease and barely a hint of surprise. The remaining four soldiers fell to a combination of their efforts and Ada tipped up her mask, revealing her young face under the blood stained mask.

"Everything's set up on top," she explained. There was no hint of remorse or grief or anger or anything held in her pale eyes.

It's not until later that night when the mission is successful that the weight of what just happened settles across his shoulders. Dum Dum and Gabe have launched into some lengthy discussion about which pin up girl is hottest as Bucky chimes in occasionally and Falsworth rolls his eyes. Ada was silent on her end of the fire and Steve took the time to study her in the dim flicker of the flames. They reflect off her eyes, highlighting the shine to them and making it seem as though the fire is inside of her and after today, he could believe it.

"Convoy will be by to pick us up at 0900," Steve announced, cutting off the men's laughter. "Be up in time to pack your stuff or I'm letting Ada wake you up however she wants."

He stepped away from the campfire and headed for his tent. Even though she was silent, he knew that Ada followed. Steve barely eased himself down onto his bedroll when she entered the tent behind him.

Ada noticed the hard look in his eyes. The blonde cautiously stepped forward and laid her hand against his shoulder, drawing his eyes up to hers.

"You did good today. You did what you needed to do," she said softly.

"People died."

"But people also lived. Stopping HYDRA is saving lives."

While she was completely distant to the deaths they had witnessed today, Ada also understood how he felt. There had been times when she was first tasked to kill men that the grief at night crept up and swallowed her. But seeing that same pain reflected back at her in his blue eyes hit too close to home. Ada began to pull away and headed for the tent flaps when his voice stopped her.

"Stay. Please."

Every inch of her wanted to say no. To go back to her tent and spend another cold night haunted by the memories of Siberian winters and the kiss of death. But there was just something in the way he looked at her that made her wordlessly reach down and untie her boots and place them by the door.

The blonde turned to face her husband, her hands going up to the buttons of her uniform. Ada stepped towards him as she unbuttoned the top two. Steve reached up and grasped her hands gently, stilling her movements.

"I didn't ask you to stay because I expect anything," he breathed. "I just don't want to be alone tonight."

She exhaled a shaky breath and nodded. He reached up and brushed a hand over her cheek. She tilted her head in the direction of his hand and nestled her face against his warm skin. Ada traced a finger down the bridge of his nose and ghosted it over his lips. The edges of his lips turned up just slightly at her touch.

"It gets easier," she said softly.

"I don't want it to get easier," he admitted. "I don't...I didn't come here to kill people."

"I know. And for what it's worth, I hope this-" she tapped a hand over his heart "-never hardens."

It was then that he understood what she meant. His wife was a child when she first did what he had witnessed and done today. She was young even now, the two of them thrown into a war dictated by bureaucrats and fought by kids who barely had a chance to live life. Years of seeing this devastation and death would desensitize anyone, even a heart as kind as Ada's, no matter how often she rejected his assessment of her.

And so he simply helped her undress and she did the same to him and then he pulled her into him and laid them down on the bedroll and under the scratchy woollen blanket. Ada pressed closer to him, her hand sliding down to rest against his chest right above his heart to feel the steady pulse under her fingertips.

He would hold her, he determined, until the dawn broke in the morning and until the scythe of death claimed them as its own.