Steve couldn't focus on the debriefing they were getting in the back of the transport truck. He kept his eyes on Adeline, who'd they'd laid on the medical stretcher in the centre of the back. He could see her eyes moving rapidly under her eyelids. He wondered what she was dreaming about – before realising he probably didn't want to know.

"You alright, Stevie?" Bucky nudged him, and he nodded absently. Bucky chuckled tiredly, "You haven't blinked. I promise she won't disappear in a puff of smoke."

"She's badly injured, Bucky."

Bucky shook his head, "Don't worry about it." Steve shot him a betrayed look, and his eyebrows rose. "You don't know? Steve, she heals herself real quickly. She's like you, but different." Steve had known that Adeline was technically the first and oldest super soldier, but he had never stopped to consider that it meant she could have different abilities to him. He knew she was strong, and fast, but a healing ability changed everything.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Really. She'll be right as rain, Steve."

Steve lent over and touched her cheek. It was warm, and at his touch, she moved her head towards him. "…Steve…" she whispered – so low he was sure only he could have heard it.

"I'm here. I'll always be right here." He whispered back. Adeline slept on.

25th October, 1944, Germany, Hydra Base.

Adeline ran through the fire – paying no mind to the smoke filling her lungs or the burning of her flesh. Pain was temporary. With a crash – she burst through the burning timber of the wooden doors of the warehouse, clutching her gun to her chest, and landing in a crouch outside the disintegrating warehouse. Over one shoulder, she was carrying an unconscious man. As the rest of the Commandos approached her position, she straightened, and threw the man off her. The collision with the snow outside made him jolt awake, and he scrambled upright, and levelled his gun at her. She looked at him unafraid, smirking slightly. "Traitor!" he yelled, and pulled the trigger. The shot hit her squarely in the chest, making her stumble back slightly. Then he crumpled, as something hit him from the side. Steve approached her, and picked up his shield.

"Are you alright?" He asked, eyes boring into the blood staining her singed clothes. She coughed slightly, blood staining her lips.

"Yes. Thank you for coming to my rescue, captain." She said, a twinge of amusement tinging her voice. He coloured.

"Well – I know you would have it under control, I just- when he shot you, I mean-" she put a hand on his arm, effectively stopping his ramble. She was alright – the wound was already closing up, and she assumed the bullet had either gone through, or was being dissolved inside of her. And she did appreciate him being there. Not that she'd ever admit it.

"Thank you, Steve."

He opened his mouth to say something, eyes warm – but before he could speak, the rest of the squad crashed through the snow, appearing before them. "See you got our man, Wolfey." Bucky said cheerily, too cheerily for his slightly bloody knuckles and the bruise blooming over his right eye.

"Not without help, Barnes." She said, jerking her head towards Steve. "Now. Let us 'blow this joint'?" she asked, voice uncertain as she struggled with the unfamiliar phrase that Bucky had coined. Steve smiled softly at her, and she looked away at the sudden flood of emotion his face inspired within her. She was growing weaker to him by the day – despite the horror of the war, the death, the pain and cold – she grew softer and more dependent.

They watched the flames consume the base from the wintry forest. In her pathetic, gooey state, she couldn't help but consider it a metaphor. All her carefully constructed coldness being destroyed by this fire from within. She sighed to herself, and turned her gaze skywards. Maybe the answers were in the heavens. Oh, Abe – give me something.

The war raged on, the violence seeming never ending, the danger growing – despite their continued efforts to stamp it out. It was like trying to put out a forest fire with a bucket of water. Even when one Hydra strong hold fell, there seemed to be three more – Adeline knew that on the surface it looked as if they were winning, but she knew that as long as Hitler and Schmidt were alive – there was no guarantee of anything.

Adeline was tired – deep, deep down. The only thing keeping her going now was the sick craving to see Schmidt's blood. She was still hunting him, sometimes a day behind him, sometimes weeks. The Commandos went where specialist skills were needed – so echoic of her time with the SSA in Germany that it was almost disturbing. She still felt like a predator – and not even her misguided, unwise soft fondness for Steve could change that. She was a killer – and it was that fact that kept her from him as well – she couldn't bare to taint him with all the red on her ledger.

"You alright, Commander?"

Adeline's head jerked around to Bucky – who froze in his approach at her reaction. He smiled easily in the next second, and continued his walk to her position. She had volunteered to watch that night, and had moulded herself to the frozen log on the ground. Judging by Bucky's wince as he took a seat on the snow beside her – it was probably not particularly comfortable. But she didn't notice such trivialities.

He was still looking at her, an earnest curiosity in his eyes – and she realised with a start he was expecting an answer. "Ah. Yes. I am very well." She said, offering him a nod.

Bucky snorted. "I know you are. Physically, at least. I was meaning… your upstairs." He tapped his temple, gathering his jacket around him with his other hand. She didn't think his shiver was all to do with the cold, as something dark and haunted flickered in his eyes. "I can't- I can't stop dreaming about it. Well. Not dreams, more like-"

"Nightmares." Adeline finished for him.

"Yeah." He mumbled. Adeline regarded the handsome man, noting his hunched posture, and his glazed eyes. He was a sniper. A damn good one, too – and yet the sharp focus usually in his gaze was nowhere to be found. "Have you ever – well, I mean, do you even-?" he didn't seem to know what he wanted to ask, but at his slightly embarrassed expression, Adeline gleaned what she needed to know.

"I often think about the der gräuel. The horrors." She said quietly, so not to disturb the near-silent night. She could still hear the activity of their camp behind them – but the forest was quiet, the snow deadening and dulling any natural sound. "They haunt me." She admitted, and felt his eyes on her. "It cannot be avoided, this… haunting. But you cannot let it consume you." He nodded slightly. "But at the same time, it is a wirkung, a natural reaction to what has happened."

"So I should just… accept it?" Bucky asked helplessly. "It gets so overwhelming…"

Adeline shook her head, "Never accept pain. Always fight it, do not let it win, do not let it steal you from yourself. It is overwhelming now, because the wound is fresh. Soon it will scar over, and it will simply be there – a reminder of what was." She gripped at her knees, feeling the faint prick of her unholy weapons in her nails. "It will get worse before it gets better." She said, unable to help her words from sounding like a promise.

"You're strong." He said, and he was staring at her. "I can't imagine… you did." She felt her face tighten, felt her walls about to go up. He seemed to notice, and hurried to amend his statement. "What they made you do. I don't know how you… survived it."

She smiled then, more a broken grimace than anything. "I am tired. But there is much to live for…" she could hear Steve's laughter from the camp, and felt her body relax slightly, automatically.

That piercing sniper eye had returned, along with something warm and knowing. "Love?" he suggested softly. Adeline looked at Bucky sharply. He shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. "We all gotta love something."

"The hunter does not love." Adeline said reflexively.

Bucky's face softened. "You're more than a soldier, Adeline. You're human too, and so is Steve. I don't want either of you to forget that." Adeline was silent. For once, she had nothing to say – no conditioned response for him. At her silence, he sighed slightly, and stood – clapping her on the shoulder. "Make sure you don't freeze out here, Commander."

She listened to his crunching steps in the snow as he left her there – alone with her thoughts.