Chapter Title: Swift Strike, Gentle Awakenings
Author: Sam and Dani
Story: The Omega Trials: 26 of ?
Series: The Omega Rights (part two)
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Setting: AU: Sunday - Monday, November 21 - 29, 1943: Italy and France
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WARNING: Panic Attack, Post Traumatic, Night Terrors
Translations:
Cariad – Love - Welsh
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Setting: AU: Monday, November 22, 1943: Azzano, Italy
The chilly November sun shone weakly through sparse cloud cover as the seven male Howling Commandos gathered around the hood of the army jeep. On the cold metal lay a map spread loosely, edges held roughly in place with two canteen belts, an upside down flak helmet, and a pair of scuffed binoculars. Several marks in red and black dotted the map's topographical printing. To the side an eighth man looked through the lens aperture of his box camera, taking still shots, while a ninth used the latest in video capture technology to film the strategy meeting, taking liberal shots of the map as well as the soldiers.
Pulling out a pocket compass, Steve Rogers flipped it open, revealing a picture of Peggy Carter inside the lid. He didn't glance at the photograph while he gestured to the map then pointed with his right hand, sun glinting over his ring, to the trees near the back of the jeep. "Taking the bridge out will stop their jeeps while they find a way around the trees," he told the small group.
"I can do that," Gabe nodded, meeting Steve's eyes. "Won't be hard to wire up or detonate."
Not questioning the other man's confidence in a skill not his own, Steve nodded and grinned. "Be ready with the radio, Dernier," he instructed as Bucky moved to smooth down part of the map, bumping Dernier's arm. The Frenchman nodded enthusiastically, agreeing wholeheartedly, despite not speaking or understanding most English. Steve nodded and said, "Dum Dum, you'll be in the trees, take out anyone straggling. Buck, you've got point. Check for wires, mines, the normal routine." Dum Dum and Bucky agreed to their assigned tasks, no one questioning or arguing the unusual assignments.
Finally, the man behind the video camera looked up and called, "thank you, Captain. We've got enough for the newsreel."
Glancing over, Steve gave the two reporters a solemn nod and turned back to the planning of their next strike; however, the tall blond remained very aware of the actions of the two men. Once they walked off, meeting Colonel Chester Phillips and talking excitedly with the Commanding Officer, Steve slowly straightened up, glancing behind the group to the retreating men. After several long moments, Steve reached over to scoop up the binoculars and offered them to Morita, who took them with a grin; Dum Dum and Monty picked up the helmet and canteen belts.
Bucky reached over to roll the strike map up and slip it into the jeep between the front seats. Turning, the tall brunet Alpha settled between the seats as the Commandos moved around to the back of the jeep, watching Steve pull out an entirely different map. Softly, as the men leaned in to listen attentively, Steve began laying out the real strike plans with the individual men in their typical positions, rather than the mixed up duties they'd presented for the press. They'd been told to let the reporters film a strategy meeting, but none of the Commandos were stupid enough to let anyone outside their group in on their real plans.
Glancing over at Bucky, Steve couldn't hide his smile, noting that Bucky had put on a little weight since the rescue. Still overly thin, Bucky nonetheless looked much healthier than when Steve had found him on that table in the prison factory. His scent still smelled like a teenager just developing, but it'd become stronger the last few days as Bucky became adjusted to his medicine even more. The brunet sniper caught Steve's eye and grinned back.
Playfully, Bucky reached over and tapped Steve's wrist, making him fumble the compass, knocking the picture of Peggy Carter loose. The picture slipped a bit, revealing part of another picture hidden behind it. Smiling wider, Bucky winked at Steve and said, "oh! Two dames, Stevie?" He knew the hidden picture was, in fact, of himself.
Steve flushed and ducked his head, snapping the compass shut and then playfully shoving Bucky's shoulder, eliciting an actual warm laugh from the man. A smile tugged at Steve's lips, "just jealous, Barnes."
Throwing his head back in a laugh, drawing surprised looks from the other Commandos since none of them had ever seen Bucky that relaxed, the brunet replied, "remember the twins, Steve? That was a wild night."
"Twins?" Morita sounded intrigued and Dernier, after Gabe translated, laughed and begged for the story.
"Nah," Bucky laughed. "Not worth it. Your imagination is much better for that one. It only involves three rounds on the Comet at Coney Island and a helping of hot dogs which we never got to finish enjoying. I think it was much more entertaining when Steve tried to shove a tennis ball in his mouth."
"Do something one time and you never let me live it down," Steve laughed softly, shaking his head.
"Wait," Gabe looked at the Captain. "You tried to eat a tennis ball?"
"Buck and I saw this side show performer shove tennis balls in his mouth . . . so," Steve shrugged one shoulder, "thought I'd try it out. It really isn't that exciting of a story despite Bucky always wanting to tell it."
"Oh, come on, Steve, picture it. You were twelve and so damned tiny and this big ball . . . and you looked like a damned chipmunk!" Bucky chuckled, his face and eyes relaxed for the moment.
"Wait," Gabe said, eyes widening. "You actually succeeded?"
"Well, yeah?" Steve rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, cheeks flushed.
"If you think that was impressive," Peggy's crisp voice sounded from just outside the jeep, "try talking about how you got selected by Dr. Erskine. I mean the final test, Captain." She leaned on the sidewall of the rear of the jeep, smiling, her eyes intent on Steve.
"Uh . . ." Steve's eyes darted to Bucky and then back to Peggy. "I doubt they wanna hear that . . ."
"I wanna," Bucky jumped in immediately. "I didn't get to go to bootcamp with you. Come on, tell."
"Yeah, Cap, don't leave us hangin'!" Dum Dum grinned widely, reaching over to pat Steve on one large shoulder.
"We always tell our tales, Captain," Monty said, joining into the fun razzing.
"Colonel Phillips threw a dummy grenade while we were on the training field and," Steve shrugged again, looking at Bucky, hoping that his lover didn't get too upset when he heard the news. "I jumped on it? None of us knew it was a dummy."
An impressed look crossed over the faces of the Commandos, except for Bucky. The brunet's pale blue eyes went steely and he stopped smiling. Slowly, he asked, "and the other trainees? What did those guys do when the littlest guy out there, complete with a heart condition and asthma, tried to sacrifice himself for them?"
"Jump for cover," Steve answered, meeting Bucky's eyes.
Nodding once, Bucky bit out, "then none of them were worth being Captain America, were they? They got the right guy." He reached out and laid a hand over Steve's no longer thin, delicate wrist, marveling once more at the strength in the muscular limb, the health. "Damn glad it was a dummy, and double damn glad it got you the health your deserved, Stevie."
"Thanks, Buck . . ." Steve flushed, licking his plush lips as his eyes locked on Bucky's features. So often, despite knowing each other over twelve years, Bucky could surprise Steve with a totally different reaction from what he'd expected, and Steve loved him for that.
"Well, I figure you play hero, you're gonna get asked to do it again and again. Look at you now. Regret it yet?" Bucky met his eyes, holding them with an intense look.
Never taking his eyes off of Bucky's, Steve slowly shook his head and answered, "nothing to regret, yet."
Bucky flushed very lightly, the look in his eyes the same as when he insisted on spreading kisses all over his husband's body right before taking him hard. Softly, Bucky said, "so, we strike that base and blow it to hell? Find any surviving weapons or plans and take them? That's the mission?"
Giving Bucky a smile, Steve nodded, "that's the bare basics, yeah." He wanted to crash his lips against Bucky's, happiness filling his core at seeing the familiar look to his husband's eyes. Neither seemed aware that the others easily took in those heated looks "Think you can handle it, Sergeant?"
Snorting, Bucky snarked, "as easy as swallowing a tennis ball."
Peggy shook her head and, spotting Steve's look, said, "well, we might as well get some rest, lads. We leave in two days. Captain, mind if I take them to the mess tents?"
Tearing his eyes away from Bucky to look at Peggy, Steve nodded and gave her a grateful smile, "yeah, that sounds great, Peggy, thank you."
"Last one there gets none of the bacon," she said, eliciting a wide cheer from the Commandos who all rushed to get some of the scarce treat. Peggy deliberately followed at a slower pace, ensuing she would be the race's loser.
Bucky turned to Steve and softly said, "not hungry for bacon . . ." The lean brunet stood and headed for their tent, glancing over at his lover then slipping inside the relative privacy.
Letting out a breath, smiling to himself, Steve only waited for a moment before turning to follow Bucky into their tent instead of following the others to the mess tent. "You hungry for something else, Buck?" Steve asked softly as the flap of their tent fell shut, giving them some privacy.
Whirling around, a smile on his pretty face, Bucky checked the tent door had shut properly before nodded and walking over. Draping his arms around Steve's neck, he leaned in close to whisper, "my husband . . ."
"My husband," Steve replied with a grin, leaning forward to gently kiss Bucky's lips. "I love you, Buck, you know that, right?"
"As much as I love you, Stevie?" Bucky leaned in to nuzzle at Steve's neck, nipping lightly at the scar he'd made so long ago.
Making a very low mewl, extending his neck to allow Bucky more access, loving the pleasurable hum that always ran through his body when Bucky nipped along the scar, Steve said, "tied? We love each other . . . more than anyone has ever loved another."
"Wanna wrestle for it?" Bucky purred, nipping again, rubbing one leg up between Steve's thick thighs.
"Damn . . . Buck . . ." Steve breathed out, trying to keep quiet. He let his fingers fall and caress down Bucky's chest, slowly moving down towards Bucky's waist band. Steve moved slow enough that Bucky would have enough time to tell him to stop if he got uncomfortable.
Purring again, Bucky nipped one last time then pulled back. He unbuttoned his uniform and pulled it off, carefully draping it on the chair. He unbuckled his belt, watching Steve with darkening eyes. "You make me hot, Cariad. You know that?"
Dropping his head to Bucky's shoulder, muffling the noises he made, Steve's hands moved down, wanting to touch Bucky, wanting to show Bucky how much he loved him. His fingers stroked over Bucky's length, praying that Bucky would be able to find pleasure in this encounter, not have horrible flashbacks from his time at the prison factory.
Almost surprisingly, despite the medication, Bucky was semi-hard. He groaned softly and pushed into Steve's large hand, whispering, "God, missed this, Cariad. You want me to make you feel good?" Though Bucky's length didn't grow any firmer, it was still half-filled and a bit of thin milky fluid pooled at his tip.
Stroking over Bucky's sensitive cockhead, Steve smeared the precum around a bit before saying, "wanna taste you, Buck. That okay?" The blond's voice sounded almost pleading.
"Not real hard, Stevie . . . but I want that. Please? Been so long since I felt you." Bucky slid a hand into Steve's hair, messing it up easily, despite how short the blond kept it.
Grinning, as if Bucky had given him the most precious gift in the world, Steve smoothly fell to his knees in front of his husband. He looked up under his lashes, meeting Bucky's eyes, as he leaned forward to lap at the precum that beaded on Bucky's cockhead. Steve let out a very soft groan before lapping again. He didn't mention anything about the cum being thin, watery, and off-white, much like his own used to be before the serum.
Head falling back, second hand going into Steve's hair and tangling, tugging gently, Bucky let out soft gasps, barely audible. His hips moved gently, rocking his semi-erection in and out of Steve's loving mouth. "So good, Stevie. So damn good. Feel like I got a lot built up inside screaming to get out, ya know?" he slipped into his heavy Brooklyn accent.
Groaning softly, swallowing down more of Bucky's half-hard length, Steve hummed and sucked, sending pleasurable vibrations through Bucky's cock. He never took his eyes off Bucky's face, loving the pleasure that crossed his husband's features, wishing they could stay in that moment forever.
It didn't take long for Bucky to cum, hard, down Steve's welcoming throat, having never gotten any harder. However, the tall brunet bit his lip, head thrown back, as he came in a thin, watery stream for almost half a minute. "My Stevie . . ." he moaned, softly, too low to be heard outside their tent.
Humming around Bucky's shaft, swallowing down all the cum Bucky gave him, Steve slowly started to pull off, lapping and cleaning his husband's cock. After several moments, Steve pulled off completely, "love ya, Buck. So much. I love my husband."
Bucky looked down at Steve, slowly untangling his fingers from the blond locks. Dropping to his knees, Bucky cupped his husband's face and kissed him, almost desperately. "I love you so much, Steve Rogers. I'll never regret the day I married you."
Mewling against Bucky's lips, leaning in closer to Bucky, deepening the kiss, Steve said, "you're always gonna be my husband, Buck. Always."
"Damn right I am!" Bucky breathed into Steve's mouth. He dropped his left hand to fumble at Steve's uniform pants, unfastening them then sliding his fingers down inside Steve's drawers to stroke at his cock. "Mine . . ." he breathed.
Groaning, having to drop his head to Bucky's shoulder again, teeth scraping over Bucky's scar, Steve's hips rocked into Bucky's hand. "Yours, Buck. Always . . ."
"I'm getting better every day, Stevie," Bucky breathed, stroking. Finally, he reached down to slide Steve's trousers and drawers down his thighs then freely grabbed his cock. "Soon, I'll be well enough to fuck my pretty husband properly." Bucky rarely spoke dirty to Steve, even in the bedroom.
Groaning and panting, Steve's hips continued to roll, seeking that desperately needed friction. "God, I want that, Buck. Want that so bad. You're so good. So, so good to me . . ." Steve's cock was fully hard and already leaking precum.
Pushing Steve back on the hard ground, Bucky grinned wickedly. He stroked Steve's impressive length then leaned over, ass in the air, and began engulfing his husband's rigid cock. Bucky hadn't lost any of his skill, as they knew, and that day he seemed even more relaxed than he had since rescue.
Bringing one large forearm to his mouth, Steve bit down on his flesh to keep back the noises he couldn't help but make. He struggled to keep his hips still, allowing Bucky total control of their loving, not wanting to panic his lover.
Humming softly, Bucky began to alternately suck and pump the member in his hot, wet mouth. He loved his husband's noises, his whole-hearted reaction, even if they had to stifle it for safety reasons. But, someday, Bucky intended to find a place where he could fuck his husband until Steve screamed, loud and long, proclaiming their love for the world to hear. Stroking along Steve's hips, Bucky blinked and looked up at Steve through his lashes, willing his husband to orgasm and fill his waiting mouth with seed.
With a groan, clamping his teeth down hard on his flesh, Steve's hips bucked just slightly before he came down Bucky's throat.
Like Steve before him, Bucky lovingly swallowed every drop and cleaned Seve's cock thoroughly. He didn't mind the larger load Seve had produced, licking his lips as he sat back on his feet. "You fill me up, Cariad, better than breakfast."
Panting, slowly letting his arm fall away, the bite mark already beginning to heal, Steve gave Bucky a smile, "I love you, Buck."
"Stevie . . ." Bucky smiled and kissed his husband's lips, sharing their individual tastes, "when this war ends, gonna find us a place that doesn't care how loud we are . . ."
"Sounds like heaven," Steve breathed out, still smiling in post-orgasmic pleasure.
"Only cause my pretty blond angel will be there with me," Bucky teased, touching foreheads. "Can't live without my Stevie."
"Can't live without you, Buck," Steve leaned forward, pushing up on his forearms, "you and me, Buck . . ."
"Till the end of the line," Bucky finished the thought, grinning widely. He gave one last stroke to Steve's spent member before pulling away to get some supplies for cleaning up.
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Setting: AU: Thursday, November 25, 1943: France
No one quite noticed exactly when they crossed over from Italy to France and none of the group asked for a break until Dum Dum signaled their afternoon rest. Standing around, no fire so they passed around canned food Dernier ripped open with his utility knife, the seven men eyed one another with quiet determination; they would finish this mission as quickly as possible and get back to the base before the heavy snows started. Next mission would involved actual vehicles, they'd been assured, though every man there doubted the offer would be recalled in a week's time.
Steve smiled at Bucky, his mood unable to be dampened. His husband was improving with no nightmares since they'd started the Bucky Watch, and even the Sergeant's recent adjustments to the medicine showed promise in a more personal area. It seemed that Bucky could get beyond the trauma he'd suffered while a prisoner. The Captain tore his eyes from his lover and looked over the rest of his team.
Bucky grinned and said, "say, Steve . . . it's Thanksgiving back home."
"Thanksgiving," Steve nodded, thinking about what Bucky and he would be doing if they were back home in Brooklyn. They'd be setting up a meal for the two of them at their table in their small apartment.
"Thanksgiving?" Monty asked, looking from one American to another.
"Right," Bucky said. "It's a day to give thanks for all we have, including friends and family. It's a day of appreciation. I think us surviving this long merits Thanksgiving, right, Cap?"
"I'd say," Steve nodded in agreement.
"Damn straight," Dum Dum beamed. "At home we always say why we're thankful. I'll start . . ." the large redhead cleared his throat and said, "I'm thankful to be alive with good friends around me and loved ones at home."
No one seemed able to add to that sentiment. Frowning, Dernier tugged on Gabe's jacket. Gabe grinned widely and turned to explain to Dernier, who agreed wholeheartedly. The little Frenchman talked so quickly Gabe could barely translate everything that Dernier said he was thankful for.
The next hour the group spent in harmony, trading stories, eating food, and basically unwinding from their night strike. Finally, Monty stretched and said, "we should get to sleep." The Major looked voe the men. "Captain, you have first watch tonight and Dum Dum is second."
Steve nodded once and offered a smile to Bucky, "get some rest, Sergeant." He rose to his full height, stretching a bit.
"Aye, Captain," Bucky saluted Steve, grinning. He tagged Dum Dum's shoulder. "C'mon, Sergeant. We've been ordered to sleep." Slipping off his quilted jacket with a deep shudder, he offered it to Steve, who took it with a gentle smile.
Dum Dum nodded, yawning in his exhaustion, "aye." He stood and followed Bucky to the tent. "Damn cold here."
Bucky nodded his agreement, blocking a yawn with his hand. Slipping into the tent he shared with Steve, Bucky began to unbutton his uniform jacket but didn't take it off. It was far too cold to strip down and no one expected parade inspection lines on a mission. "Heard from Mary recently?" he asked his long time friend.
"Got a letter from her at our last base, she's doing well," Dum Dum nodded. "Looking forward to spring so she can start the garden up again. Likes having her hands in the earth, my Mary."
"And the baby? How's he doing?" Bucky smiled at Dum Dum, removing his boots then pulling the sleeping bags back so he could climb in against the tent wall.
"Doing good," Dum Dum answered, slipping in next to Bucky after the brunet had settled. He snuggled the sleeping bag of them, finding he had to wrap an arm around Bucky's waist just to get comfortable.
Spooning back against Dum Dum's front, Bucky said, "Steve and I would love kids, but that's never gonna happen in this world we live in. But if we could adopt, I think I'd like one of each, you know?"
"Don't say never. Never is a strong word," Dum Dum said.
Bucky shifted around so he faced Dum Dum on the cot, studying the large, burly redhead. "You think someday people would let two men adopts kids, without a woman around?"
"Don't see why not," Dum Dum answered honestly, "what would you name a kid, Bucky?" too tired to think deeply on the subject but encouraging the other man in his desire to share his very private dreams.
"Thomas, I think. Or Joseph." Bucky yawned and added, "not many people are as open-minded as you, Dum. You're a decent guy." He grinned and entwined fingers with the larger man. "Night, big guy." Bucky closed his pale eyes, exhausted by the day and relieved to feel safe and protected among his friends and husband.
"Night, Bucky," Dum Dum said softly.
Drifting off quickly, Bucky slept with a peaceful smile on his face. He managed to stay asleep for about an hour before his entire body started trembling. He thrashed his head and started murmuring in his four native languages, a mix of desperate whispers and protests.
Eyes snapping awake, Dum Dum sat up and gently tried shaking Bucky awake, "hey, Bucky, wake up."
Thrashing his head, Bucky lifted a hand and pushed feebly, still protesting incoherently. Among the words some English dropped out, revealing he recited his name, rank, and serial number . . . what all prisoners of war should do when captured.
Dum Dum continued to try and wake Bucky up buy gently shaking him and calling out his name, knowing Bucky would need to wake up soon or risk revealing their location to the enemy. But nothing he tried worked: no shaking, no words, Bucky still got more and more disturbed, his nightmare gripping him. If he didn't do something quick, he risked the other Sergeant screaming.
Recalling how Peggy and Steve woke the traumatized brunet, knowing that he didn't want to suffocate his friend, Dum Dum pressed his lips to Bucky's. He'd never kissed a man before, but later would realize that this felt no different from kissing his wife or parents, minus the passion for Mary.
With a gasp of indrawn air, Bucky's pale eyes shot open and he sat up, nearly knocking Dum Dum with his face. Blinking, confusion written across his features, Bucky whispered, "what? Who?"
Dum Dum met Bucky's eyes, relief in his own. "You wouldn't wake up," he said, studying the leaner man, trying to determine if Bucky had truly come out of the nightmare yet or would begin screaming anyway.
Confused, Bucky met his friend's eyes and whispered, "he was here . . . he had me . . . was pushing me down . . ." Shuddering, Bucky shook is head, "I couldn't get away and he was hurting me, Tim . . ."
"He's dead, Buck," Dum Dum said, slipping out of the bedding, letting the cold air finish shocking Bucky awake. "He's dead and you're free. C'mon. Get up."
Not questioning his friend's orders, Bucky slid from the warmth of the bedding and hugged himself, drawing his uniform jacket closer around him. With a nod, Dum Dum ordered, "go, get a drink of water, take a turn around the camp, take a piss. Come back and get some more sleep." He watched the smaller man intently, knowing Bucky was really awake at last.
Nodding, Bucky turned, stumbling over his boots. He slid them on, not bothering to tie them, and shuffled from the tent, fumbling the buttons on his uniform jacket closed. The intense late November cold hung heavy, causing the young soldier to shake with the loss of body heat. He stumbled over his untied boots, caught himself before he fell, and made it over to his husband's side.
Stunned as he identified the brunet figure heading towards him in the dark, Steve whispered, "Buck? Latrine?"
In reply, Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve's waist, burying his face in the blond's neck with a shuddering sob. "Sorry . . . so sorry . . ." He couldn't seem to get close enough to dispel the horror of what had occurred, what he had nearly made Dum Dum do. Bucky had no idea how his bootcamp buddy had gotten through the terror; he hadn't tried to smother Bucky after all. In regret and horrified remorse, Bucky kept apologizing, over and over. "So sorry . . . I'm so sorry."
Unsure just why Bucky was apologizing, but sure the other man must have awakened from nightmares, Steve wrapped his arms securely around the trembling man, kissing at his neck and cheeks and eyelids - - anywhere he could reach. "S'kay, Buck. I'm here. You're with Stevie. I've gotcha, Bucky. I've got ya."
It took nearly half an hour to calm his husband.
Steve slowly traced his fingers through Bucky's short brunet hair and kissed his hair again. "I'm here, Buck . . . right here." Unwilling to let Bucky go even when Dum Dum approached, Steve asked softly, "next watch?" He knew Bucky was next on the watch rotation. The large blond wasn't so sure if Bucky was currently able to stand the watch and protect the small, sleeping unit.
Reaching out to pat Bucky's back, noting how the other Sergeant didn't startle, a good sign, Dum Dum softly said, the Sarge and I swapped. He'll take it in a couple days. Take him to bed and see if you can get him to sleep, Captain."
Relief washed over the Steve and he carefully set Bucky away from him, heart breaking a little at the desperate whimper from the other man. Sliding out of Bucky's quilted jacket, he passed it over to Dum Dum. "Thanks, Dugan," Steve murmured then wrapped his arm firmly around his husband once more. He walked Bucky back to their tent.
Settling the trembling, wide eyed brunet on their shared pallet, Steve stroked his face and softly said, "Bucky, it's okay, baby. You're safe." He kissed BUcky gently, continually, until Bucky drifted into an uneasy sleep.
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Setting: AU: Friday, November 26, 1943: France
Putting down his pack in the outlying trees, Morita glanced over at Steve and Dum Dum, watching them carefully, silently, in the freezing night air. Normally, they struck boldly in the day, but Steve had wanted a night mission this time, since they were hitting such a big target. Not saying anything, the enemy was so close, Morita pointed to Dernier and himself then pointed at the top of their target, so far up it would require a climb, even by their largest member. There was no way the group could strike with surprise if they had to climb.
Bucky, recovered somewhat from the previous night, settled on a ridge overlooking the weapons depot and their main target. Blowing on his hands to warm them, he lay down, stretched out on his belly in the dark blue quilted jacket Howard had provided. Shifting his chin a bit, Bucky settled his left eye to his rifle sight and let out a steady, slow breath. He relaxed, alert, and waited. While everything was night dark, the Howling Commandos had been fortunate to rate one of the very rare classified M-2 sniper-scope with a heavy lead-acid wet battery power source, the battery kept in a canvas bag for transport. He could use his telescopic mount along with the infrared light, also mounted on the same secondary T-3 sniper rifle, to see about four hundred feet at night; the rest of the team would be going in illuminated by the guard lights on the building. Bucky switched from the infrared setup to his day time sniper rifle and thought briefly how it'd be easier if one of the others also had been set up as a sniper. Switching guns wasn't a sound practice for a sniper or a watch. Through his normal, unlit scope, Bucky checked over the lit compound and determined that he should stick with the daytime rifle. The bleed over from the compound lights pretty much negated his infrared sighting. They'd have to rethink using the nearly twenty-two pound night rifle in the future, though Bucky adored the expanded range of capability; but attacking a lit target was out of the question for the heavy weapon.
Gabe, not really looking at their sniper in his temporary nest, leaned very close to Steve, holding his comm unit so it didn't shift and over balance him. "Cap," he whispered, avoiding Steve's real name because the 'S' sound was the most audible in the human language, "how we get up there?" Gabe pointed to the top of the two story tank; the Commandos had surrendered to such a weapon at Azzano and the thing scared the piss out of more than one of them.
Steve glanced up the extremely large tank, eyeing the large vehicle as he tried to find any weak spots in the thick metal frame. After several moments, Steve nodded once and glanced to Falsworth, saying softly, "have a package ready for me."
The tall, lean British soldier nodded and turned to Dernier and Morita, who began arranging a timed explosive in a pack.
Moving silently, despite his extremely large frame, Steve waited until he was close enough to toss his shield, using the shield as a distraction before jumping up, managing to land right on top of the tank. Without wasting any time, Steve grabbed the hatch door and tore it off the hinges before wrapping his fingers around the uniform of the gunner on the inside and tossing the man out. He held out his hand for the explosives.
Ignoring Gabe's impressed look, Monty swung the load up in a wide arc, aiming right for Steve's head. He then immediately turned and pushed Gabe ahead of him, both soldiers scrambling off to a safer distance, Dum Dum, Dernier, and Morita close on their heels. Bucky, in the safety of his perch, merely watched through his scope, prepared, as always, to take down the enemy before it could sneak up on his own men.
Catching the explosives, Steve tossed them down into the depths of the tank and ran, jumping off the extremely tall tank, rolling as he hit the ground. He moved quickly in the same direction as his men as the tank exploded behind them, emitting a lone blue bolt in its death throes.
Soon the six running men joined up further away, hidden in the foliage as they slowed down to make a near silent approach to that night's camp. They would check on the debris at dawn. Only minutes after arriving at the small camp, Bucky caught up to the others, grinning wide, carrying both the heavy night rifle with battery as well as his preferred lightweight day rifle. In a whisper, the sniper said, "that tank took out the bunker, too, guys. Saw it on the scope. No signs of men alive, but there are probably a few who'll dig themselves out by morning."
"Damn fine plan," Morita grinned and slapped Steve's back.
Shaking his head, Gabe echoed, "damn fine jump!"
Giving his men a smile, Steve nodded and glanced over to Bucky, "we'll check the wreckage in the morning." He gave the Commandos another smile, "good job, men. Dernier then Gabe tonight."
With tired, pleased smiled the men headed for the pallets, Denier taking the quilted jacket for first watch.
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Setting: AU: Saturday, November 27, 1943: France
Getting up before the dawn, the Howling Commandos moved carefully. The weather had held, at least, but it was cold in late November, despite being in Southern France. Early morning fog swirled around their feet with each cautious step and blocked sight of the rubble they moved through. All seven men felt on high alert, especially Bucky up on his sniper's perch on a cliff edge, carefully monitoring his unit as they investigated the remains of the bunker and hugh tank blown up the night before.
Monty and Dum Dum headed around the perimeters, left and right, separating. Gabe stuck close to Morita on the right, where the majority of masonry and twisted, unrecognizable metal and cement had been spewn. To the left, towards the still smoking hulk of the Hydra tank, Dernier picked his way around potholes and charred debris. Steve chose the direct centerline, carefully watching in front of him, keeping an eye, like all the others, for anything that might have remained: weapons, notes, or even supplies.
Stooping to check the melted tank track, Dernier snorted softly to himself, the fog obscuring the small Frenchman. Close by,someone passed him by; Dernier looked up but couldn't identify the man in the bad visibility. His hand slipped to his holster, releasing the button that held his revolver in place.
Steve took another step, past Dernier completely by then, and turned his head. The sound of a muffled shot drew Steve's startled attention to the other side where a dark-dressed stranger collapsed beside the Captain. Eyes widening, Steve snapped his head in the direction of their resident sniper, his husband Bucky, not noticing as Dernier began rifling the body.
Above the site, Bucky lay impassively on his stomach, slightly raised. He had no expression on his face as he pulled the bolt on hsi rifle, ejecting the casing and sending a new bullet into the chamber.
Relief filled Steve and he saluted his mate, sending a message of gratitude in his vivid blue eyes. In returned, still perfectly straight-faced, Bucky gave Steve a wink then settled to view the scene through his scope once more.
xxx
Setting: AU: Sunday, November 28, 1943: Italy
The night settled cold around the trudging soldiers as they came closer and closer to their base, having crossed over into Italy at some unknown point during the day. As Dernier lifted his hand in a signal to stop for the night, the Commandos let out a quiet sigh of relief. They pulled their packs from their backs and began setting up their tents and pallets, forgoing food or fire to get to a somewhat sheltered place to sleep.
As they worked, Steve walked up behind Bucky, though he resisted the urge to touch the man he loved. Softly he said, "Buck? I'm second watch. You gonna be okay?"
Looking over at, Bucky shot his lover a tired smile. "Sure, Cap. Come on, let's get some rest and in four hours, I get to share with Morita for the first time." Glancing over at the small San Francisco, Bucky said, "that okay with you, Morita?"
Straightening, Morita studied Bucky a long moment, frowning. Finally, he shrugged and said, "sure, why not? If all the others can handle sleeping next to you, I don't see why I can't."
Grinning, Bucky slid out of his warm jacket and handed it off to Morita. "Bonus is, you get the jacket, of course."
"I would even if I didn't have to put up with your stinky-ass feet, Sergeant. It's a rule. The watch gets the nice jacket." Morita grinned cheekily back, sliding into the blue quilted material, sighing in pleasure at the warmth. He looked like a child playing in his father's clothes, but Morita didn't seem to care.
Chuckling, Bucky slipped into the small tent he shared with Steve and the Bucky Watch. Climbing into bed quickly, never quite losing the chill he'd seemed inundated with at the prison factory, Bucky turned and watched his husband slide out of his boots and jacket.
Steve climbed under the blanket and wrapped his arms protectively, lovingly around Bucky. Carefully kissing Bucky behind the ear, he whispered, "mine?"
Chuckling, Bucky whispered back, "always, Cariad. Even if a hundred years passed, I'd still be yours."
Smiling softly, Steve traced soft kisses across Bucky's jawline to his plush lips. Kissing, making a pleased sound low in the back of his throat, Steve murmured, "sleep, Buck. I gotcha."
Nodding, Bucky returned the kisses and murmured back, "you sleep, Stevie. You're the one getting up in four hours.
Those four hours seemed to race by as Morita slid the tend flap open without warning, waking both men with the blast of cold wind that blew in. A storm brewed outside. Entering the small tent, Morita slid the quilted jacket off and tossed it at Steve, who finally sat up with a jaw popping yawn. "Up, Captain. Go do the watch. I'll keep the Bucky safe."
Nodding, jamming his feet into his boots and sliding into the warm jacket, Steve looked over the pair. Morita was the last Commando to now take a Bucky Watch, having never done one before. "You," Steve flushed briefly and rubbed at the back of his own neck, "you need anything . . ."
"Go, Cap," Bucky said, yawning. He pulled the blanket back so Morita could slide into the bed.
With a nod, Steve turned to leave, but froze and looked back as he saw, with wide eyes, Morita encircled Bucky's back with his front, spooning the bemused taller man. Steve left.
With a soft sigh, Bucky concentrated on burying his own nerves, his own fears. He didn't want a screaming nightmare. Closing his eyes, instead, Bucky ebgan to envision Steve and him, back in Brooklyn, fighting the cold of their tiny apartment as they waited until morning to go to their jobs.
xxx
Setting: AU: Monday, November 29, 1943: Italy
When Steve woke the camp in the morning, he began preparing a cold meal of crackers, canned beans he ripped open, and two cans of unheated stew. Watching Morita walk out of the tent, looking tired but self-pleased, Steve drew a soft breath and allowed himself to smile. Bucky followed, looking relaxed, and actually as well rested as any of the other Commandos ever did in a war zone.
Dum Dum, zipping up quickly from his bathroom stop behind the tents, shuddered and took his share of the food. "Be back to base by tomorrow," he softly growled.
Nodding, Monty took a bit of stew covered cracker. "A couple of days to plan the next excursion, what?"
"Yeah," Morita grinned. He stirred the weak coffee the men had saved until that morning. "You know, this Bucky Watch ain't so bad. He sleeps like a log, pretty much.
"Not always," Gabe interrupted, "but mainly. Do you think we should keep up the rotation? I mean, back at the base? JUst to keep in practice and all?"
Slowly, Steve nodded, watching Bucky, who sat beside him and grabbed his own small portion of weak coffee and cold food. "If no one else is adverse, I'm all for it. We could stand watch on our unit while back at base. Stay ina steady rotation."
Steve finished his crackers and said, "I'll talk to the Colonel about the watch idea. Might be able to take us out of the larger base rotation if we're doing a small watch in our area."
"Good, tell him it'll be good for morale and team building. He'll love it," Bucky advised, stretching.
Dernier spoke up, shooting rapid French at Gabe and Bucky. Gabe translated for him; however, saying, "Frenchie wants to know If Dum's doing the watch tonight since he did it for Bucky a couple nights ago."
"No," Bucky instantly answered, though he hadn't discussed it with anyone. "I've swapped. Only fair. I'm on tonight."
The other Commandos looked pleased by that. The quickly gathered their supplies and stowed their gear, ready to finish their march back to base, in good will with one another after yet another successful mission.
xxx
Continued in Chapter Twenty-Seven: when written