1943
Jim couldn't believe what just happened. He'd been captured in battle, tortured, used as slave labor, then turned into a lab rat by a mad scientist. Then, just as he was giving up hope of recue, Steve Rogers of all people, had single-handedly stormed the base, freed the prisoners and gotten him out of there. Little skinny, sickly Steve Rogers, had managed to pull off a daring raid and brought the 107th home.
Of course, Steve wasn't the same scrawny little rat he remembered. Steve had gotten turned into a muscle-bound freak courtesy of another mad scientist, then spent a year selling war bonds before going AWOL and Now Steve had come up with a cockamamie plan to have the starving, traumatized, exhausted, former POWs form a unit to storm HYDRA bases.
Steve, who had spent the last year prancing around various USO stages dressed in tights, surrounded by chorus girls, punching a fake Hitler while he and a million other men were risking their lives on the front lines, Steve, who had no training or combat experience, Steve, who had never fired a gun, was going to lead men into battle. Insane, that was all Jim could think, the brass had gone insane. He decided to give that brilliant idea a hard pass.
Steve hadn't taken the news well. He'd argued with Jim, touting his tactical genius and how he'd come up with a great to rescue the 107th.
"What plan? You went charging into Azzano like a mad bull. You got lucky," Jim had said. "Nobody was expecting an angry blond dressed in tights to come charging through throwing a shield around, Steve. Next time you'll be up against people who'll be on the lookout, and they'll be using machine guns. How did you even get permission for this? You don't have any training, from what I heard, you washed out of boot camp the first week. What qualifies you to lead people into battle?"
Steve was taken aback. Rallying, he said, "I saved your life, Bucky."
"Jesus, Steve. You haven't changed a bit in 15 years," Jim snapped. "Did you ever stop to consider what I want, what I need? Yes, I'm grateful you got me out of there, but I've been through hell and all I want to do is go home, and I'm sure the other fellas feel the same way. For once in your life, think about what someone else needs."
Steve gave Jim his best "I'm disappointed in you look".
Jim was unmoved. He hadn't forgotten all the times Steve had dragged him into fights before he'd finally wised up. He'd done his part for the war effort, now it was time to focus on recovering from his ordeal. "Find someone else for your suicide squad, I'm going home. And another thing, stop calling me Bucky. No one's called me that in 15 years." Jim got up, left the pub, leaving Steve behind.
