Arc One: Natalia and Steven, Marvel Universe-1122

Chapter Three

25 February 1944
On the road to Radom, Poland

The next day was much like the one before. The road to Lodz was sparsely populated, there weren't any German convoys at all, either. Plodding along on the now gravel road, they made good time. Steve's Russian was becoming quite good as the threesome walked abreast on the road. By lunch, all of his and Natalia's conversation was in Russian to extend his fluency. On more than one occasion, Natalia and Jozef smothered laughter at a pronunciation of Steve's. He took it in good humor, "Hey, I'm working on four and a half languages here, gimme a break." This usually caused more laughter.

With Jozef silent on the side of their group, Steven and Natalia drifted into conversation about any and everything. On one occasion, Natalia told Steve about her best friend while growing up, Yelena, and Steve told her about Bucky. Most of Natalia's stories were from her adulthood, though, which Steve took as an indication that her childhood was less than fantastic.

As they ate their mid-day meal of cheese, bread, sausage and water, Steve murmured to Natalia, "Do you think he'll know if the Germans are active near Lodz?" Shrugging, she turned to the boy, repeating the thought in her pigeon Polish.

An expression of frustration came over the young man, who until this point hadn't said a word. A chill ran down Steve's spine when a moaning groan escaped young Jozef's throat as he raised his hands to show his ignorance.

As his mind tried to process what was happening, Natalia asked in the softest voice he'd ever heard from her, "Niemiecki?"

Jozef nodded shortly. Silently, he knelt in the dirt on the side of the road, drawing a symbol.

Steve Rogers was a brave man. He'd faced death on occasions beyond numbering. However, at that moment, he was nearly frozen in terror at what he was about to see. Jozef stood, allowing Steve and Natalia to see the two interlocking triangles of the Jewish Star of David.

"Juden?" the SS officer had asked. The memory of the report from the Armia Krajowa about Auschwitz flooded his mind, unwanted.

His eyes wide, he turned to Natalia to see her expression hard and angry. "Did the Germans…?" he couldn't finish the question for fear that his saying the thought out loud might make it true.

"Cut out his tongue for being a Jew? Da." Her hands were curled at her side and she was marching in a controlled fury as opposed to the fluid movement of just a moment ago. With a quickness that was startling, her hard expression melted to blankness. Steve knew in that moment; Natalia was done hiding from the Germans. She wanted to kill Germans.

Through his own horror at what had been done to cheerful Jozef, Steve admitted to himself that he felt the same way. Based on what he'd read from intelligence files, young Jozef was one of the lucky ones. Lucky to only have his tongue cut out.

Once again, he wanted to vomit in revulsion.

Blind to everything except what was directly in front of him, Steve was startled when he felt Natalia's hand curl into his own. When he looked down, he saw that she was also holding Jozef's hand. The poor lad was looking at the ground in shame as fat, hot tears dripped off his nose.

Stopping their march, he stood in front of the Pole, forcing Jozef to meet his gaze. Once the boy's brown eyes cleared, Steve told him, "You did nothing wrong," in Polish.

Again, the lad's eyes filled with tears.

Stunning him, Steve watched Natalia take Jozef in her arms for a long hug as the Pole gathered himself together. Finally, he met Steve's gaze again, nodding firmly. Natalia disengaged quickly, evidently unused to the physical show of affection. Doing them all a favor, he murmured, "Let's go," in Polish. Silently, they headed west towards Lodz.

.oOo.

At dusk, they headed off the road to repeat their camping in the forest. Once again, Jozef was sound asleep before the adults had finished their sweep of the area and Steve had collected firewood.

Again, Steve laid his blanket over Jozef and sat next to Natalia, but it was not the same. The previous night had been warm with companionship and affection between the three of them despite the cold weather. Steve could not deny that he liked the vivacious redheaded Russian very much. She was smart, had a sarcastic wit and a matter-of-fact approach to life that he found refreshing.

This night, though, all was uneasy. Staring at his hands, he tried to put into words what he was thinking, but only one word came to mind. Finally, he turned to Natalia, to see her watching him, while wearing a concerned expression. The internal agony must have leaked into his voice as he asked, "Why?" because she reflexively wrapped an arm about him.

"Why, what, Steven?" she whispered.

"I don't understand why the Nazis hate the Jews so much," he whispered, the emotion choking his voice. Shaking his head, he went on, "It makes no sense. I would understand if they hated the French or the British; the Treaty of Versailles was pretty brutal. But Jews? What did they do? Worship a different God? Have different names? I don't understand, Natalia." Looking across the fire at the lad who they'd both become so fond of, he nearly cried, "They cut out a boy's tongue because he was different."

Her grip tightened on him. "Monstry," she whispered into the dark. Monsters. Natalia was a fairly reserved woman, but in that moment her hatred and revulsion for the Nazi pogrom was evident.

Scowling now, Steve nodded his concurrence, "Da."

As he slipped his arm about her shoulders, she burrowed into his chest. Both were searching for a semblance of humanity while seemingly amidst the teeming pits of perdition. Clinging to each other, they rested and took turns keeping watch over the boy who had suffered so much.

.oOo.

26 February 1944
Lodz, Poland and environs

The rising sun of the next day reminded Steve of what his Russian partner had told him. He held onto that thought, with hope in his heart that this day would be a better day than the day before.

It wasn't.

The trip from their campsite to Lodz didn't take too long. Lodz was a very large city; nearly as large as Krakow. Winding through the streets behind young Jozef in the early morning, Steve and Natalia did their level best to not be noticed. It wasn't too hard. The iron heel of Naziism was as oppressive in Lodz as elsewhere. People on the street kept their heads down and hurried to their destination. Where once neighbors would chat on the front steps, none were to be found. Shopkeepers kept to their shops and windows were shuttered. Not even the usual stray dogs or cats were found. A brisk wind swept a clump of leaves past the group causing an abnormally loud clatter on the silent street.

Their contact was on the north side of town. They did their best to casually wind through the streets, staying off the main boulevards where the German checkpoints lay. The sun was well past noon when they peeled off the road down a lane, which led to a small two-story cottage. Jozef motioned with his hands for Steve and Natalia to wait while he opened the small garden gate before hurrying to the front door. His sharp tug on the bell pull sounded a series of chimes inside the house. A short moment later, a middle-aged man with round spectacles, a pudgy face, and wearing the vest and trousers of a suit opened the door.

He seemed to recognize young Jozef and his purpose there as his eyes immediately darted to the waiting Allies. Nodding, he murmured, "Tak," before adding, "Muszę się zmienić," and closed the door.

Steve frowned as he met Natalia's gaze. "Something about changed?" he asked.

"He goes to change his clothing," she explained.

Steve nodded his understanding, but something didn't seem right. Absently, he placed the bag with her rifle and his shield on a nearby tree stump for easy access to the contents. Jozef rejoined them, miming that the man in the house would take them further north on the road toward Danzig. His happy face was tinged with sadness, and Steve liked to think that the young Jew was already missing them. He'd miss the lad's silent cheerfulness.

A few minutes later, the man from before opened his front door, this time with a woman at his side. He turned to her, kissing her tenderly as they whispered to each other. Wearing common traveling clothing, he came up to the threesome proclaiming in broken English, "We go Plock. Two days," which he emphasized by holding up two fingers.

Steve nodded before replying, "Dziękuję Ci." The man's eyebrows shot up at the use of Polish.

Without further comment, they headed back to the main road. Jozef hesitated for a long moment before he spontaneously hugged Steve. Surprised, the blond New Yorker froze for a moment before taking the young man in his arms and embracing him firmly. As they broke their embrace, Steve looked Jozef in the eye, nodding firmly trying to convey much with a look. Reassurance, acceptance, support and affection all resided there. Jozef half smiled, returning the nod before turning to Natalia where the redhead embraced the Pole firmly, kissing his cheek as well. "Bog vidit pravdu," she murmured to which Jozef nodded. Steve recalled that was a common saying in the Russian countryside, despite the Soviet State sponsored Atheism: "God sees the truth."

As they all gathered to go their separate ways, a Wehrmacht truck appeared from around the bend from the south.

Softly, Steve whispered to Jozef, "Go."

The teenager looked back to Steve, and seeing the hard expression on the Super Soldier's face, obeyed. Ducking his head, he began to trudge south. Natalia murmured, "Let's go," and the three adults turned to head north.

It was the squealing of brakes and the loud calls that spurred him to action. Later, he couldn't recall ever making a conscious decision, but he dropped the sack from his shoulder. In a flash, Natalia had her rifle in one hand, his shield held out to him in the other.

Looking back, they saw Germans piling out of the truck, surrounding young Jozef.

"God, no," Steve whispered as he and Natalia sprinted south.

The scrum about the boy was only fifty meters distant, but in that moment, it could have been on the other side of the universe. In a frozen moment, Steve saw a soldier push Jozef, who immediately lashed out with his hand, causing the soldier to crumple and fall to the ground.

"No!" growled Natalia as she realized what he did. Jozef was done being the victim. He'd no doubt lost much of his family to Auschwitz and other places of the ilk. He'd lost his tongue. Who knew what else he'd lost? He was done losing. He had his little sausage knife and he used it.

It cost him his life.

In the blink of an eye, another soldier drew his pistol and shot the Pole.

Again, it was a frozen moment. Tears sprang to Steve's eyes as he pumped his legs as hard as he could, Natalia keeping pace at his side. But no matter how fast they ran, the red circle on Jozef's chest blossomed and grew larger. In their perfect vision, the boy's face was frozen in shock as his already dead corpse fell to the ground, surrounded by his murderers.

And then the Super Soldiers were among them. Seconds later, the thirty German soldiers were dead. Natalia held a blood-stained German bayonet in each hand with her rifle slung across her back, while Steve's shield was dripping from a coating of blood. Both panting with bloodlust, they looked for more enemies to slay.

Until they both, simultaneously, saw Jozef.

He lay there in motionless, his face still surprised by his death blow. In death, he seemed strangely young and it pulled at Steve's heart. Dropping to his knees, the man who was described as 'a good man' let his shield fall. With his left hand, he gently closed the lad's eyes as he began to pray the prayer his mother had taught him for his father. "Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him. May his soul, and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen."

Natalia's hand gently rested on Steve's shoulder and he could hear her tears in the utter silence. Looking up to her through his own tears, he saw small rivulets of grief drip off her nose. Lost and baffled in his own anguish, he told her, "I don't know any Jewish prayers. It's all I know."

She nodded her understanding, gripping his shoulder in sympathy. "It is enough for now."

He returned his gaze to the dead teen. Steve had seen his men cut down; men he knew quite well. He'd ushered more than a few of the Axis soldiers into the afterlife. Why was this one boy, not even a man yet, striking him down with grief? Thousands upon thousands died every day. If the reports were to be believed, the Eastern Front was a bloodbath. Why did one teenage Polish boy strike down Steve Rogers so?

"He was hope for us all that the world could be saved from the nightmare. The nightmare that Hitler's minions are visiting upon us all," Natalia whispered in response to his unasked questions.

Standing, he wrapped her in a hug. They held on to one another as they slowly gained control of themselves. Up the road, their new escort puffed as he ran to join them, but in their circle of intimacy, it was just the two of them. Just the two of them where they wept for the boy who had suffered so much, so unjustly.

.oOo.

At their guide's insistence, Steven and Natalia loaded all of the corpses – including Jozef's – into the truck. They drove it back to the cottage where the guide parked it in a barn on the back of his house. Quickly dispatching his son, he beckoned for the allies to follow him.

He rattled off in Polish as they hurried to the road, "I have a friend who will dispose of everything. We must hurry and be gone soon. It is one hundred and twenty kilometers to Plock."

With their hearts aching, neither Steve nor Natalia introduced themselves to their guide.

.oOo.

27 February 1944
On the road to Plock, Poland

There was no chatter on the road – in any language that Steve and Natalia knew. On more than one occasion, he found himself sniffing back spontaneous tears and running his hand through his hair as he held his cap tightly in the other. Frustration caused him to grind his teeth, shortly whipsawing to more tears.

They had walked through the night without stopping and kept pushing on through the morning. As they ate their lunch while walking, Steve handed out more cheese and bread while their guide provided a small pot of butter that they smeared across the hunks of hard bread. Steve looked to Natalia, as he'd been doing more often than not, with an admiring glance. She was truly beautiful in both the classic sense and her inner beauty. She was hard; not many men would be attracted to that, but she was strong, had a great sense of humor and was compassionate. All through the day, she'd provide small shows of support when it was evident that Steve was struggling with the death of the boy the day before. A hand on his shoulder. Gently cupping his hand as they walked. A pat on the back.

In his turn, he did the same for her. As they rounded a bend, he heard her sniffling back her tears. Reflexively, he wrapped his right arm about her shoulders to give her a gentle sideways hug. Accepting the gesture, she lay her head on his shoulder for a moment before murmuring, "Spasibo."

"Ne za chto," he replied in a low tone.

Their guide was silent as he struggled to keep up with them. Finally, he asked for a stop, "Idziesz bardzo szybko," he puffed from a sweaty and red face as he rested with his hands on his knees.

Steve smiled ruefully as he met Natalia's expression. She rolled her eyes, but nodded in agreement to stop. Just like him, she must be realizing that they were walking at a pace most normal people ran. The guide plopped on to a fallen tree, his head between his knees as he tried to slow his breathing.

Steve moved closer to the road to look up and behind them. There was a farmer with a cart pulled by a mule to the south, and two children playing in the dirt in front of their home a mile or so up the road.

"I did not think it possible to become so attached to a person who never said a word. Someone I only knew for forty-eight hours," Natalia observed softly as she silently sidled up next to him. Again, Steve reached for her, this time to embrace her fully. As she wrapped her arms about his waist in return, he realized that he needed the hug just as much as she seemed to need one as well. It was a long moment of roborative silence.

Far too soon, she sighed and gave him a squeeze as she let go. He returned the gesture as he began, "My Ma told me all about my dad ever since I was a young boy. When I was young, I didn't really understand what 'dead' meant. Just that he wasn't there with us on that day. When I started school and the other kids talked about what their dad did in the city or how he took them to a Dodger's game, I finally realized what my Ma had been telling me."

She placed her hand on his shoulder, nodding her agreement, "It was much the same for me. There were people in the small village where I lived for a while who took care of me, but I was mostly concerned about eating and doing my chores. Mother and Father were just ideas that had no meaning for me. It wasn't until I was fifteen and fully into my training that I understood what that idea truly meant."

Taking a chance, he asked, "What training?"

She hesitated, and he desperately wanted to absolve her of answering, but a very important part of him let her work through her answer. He didn't need to know. It was none of his business, but there was a part of him that seemed to be bigger than him – which made no sense at all – that knew that she needed to answer.

Finally, she ducked her head, looking at the grass as she replied, "I was picked up when I was seven or eight to be trained as an agent for the State." She waved vaguely at her face, "I was pretty, and the GRU decided that all of their agents abroad didn't have to be men. Therefore, I was given a thorough education and taught the craft of espionage."

Her green eyes met his blue, both boring into each other's innermost secrets, "It's how I became how I am like you." Again, she looked down, "In early 1939, I was ordered to infiltrate Doctor Erskine's lab in Augsburg, posing as a research assistant who was working on her doctorate at the University of Dusseldorf. Six months of high intensity tutoring allowed me to function at a high enough level for my cover."

She sighed, picking up a stick and fiddling with the bark before throwing it into the woods, "Most of the time, I was not allowed into the laboratory where Doctor Erskine worked for that pig Schmidt. I was forced to work in the laboratory where Schmidt tested various other serums and potions," she spat, "on unwilling participants. Most died quickly, in great pain. Others went mad and had to be put down."

Staring off into the distance with her arms crossed on her chest, she elaborated, "I had been there for four months or so, and was working late to wrap up a report." She gave him an amused glance, adding, "I may have also looking for a breach in security to get access to either Doctor Erskine's notes so I could photograph them, or access to the serum itself." He laughed, understanding that this was how the game was played.

Her laughter died away, "Either the notes or the serum was acceptable to the GRU. I was walking down the hall, my just finished report in hand, as I saw that of the usual two HYDRA soldiers stationed outside the laboratory, one was missing and the other drinking.

"I asked, what was going on, and the remaining soldier said that his companion had a date with a willing woman, so he was alone." She rolled her eyes as Steve's mouth set in a firm line. He could intuit what was coming next. "The swine asked me if I was a willing woman as well. I broke his jaw in subduing him. Paperweights are excellent for incapacitating idiots." He nodded his unsolicited approval.

"The lock on the door was no barrier, so I was quickly in the room. I had just finished photographing all the files I could find, but it had taken me quite some time as there were many, many files. The door opened again, and I anticipated another HYDRA swine but it was one of the mad test subjects who had escaped from his cage." She shook her head in remembrance, "He was completely insane, but at the same time, pitiable. His strength had increased significantly from the experiments and in his madness, he'd ripped his clothes from his body. He stood there, panting in rage or pain or… I don't know. In a flash, he was on me. I was defenseless. With my fighting skills against a normal person, I always win. Against this poor soul, nothing I did was successful. My vision started to cloud as he beat me about the face, when I saw him reach for something off to the side before stabbing me with it. He repeated it again, and again in my shoulders, my thighs, my back and my chest. Then the burning started."

Steve had lived this part of the story, so he finished for her. "And it felt as if you were being torn apart and remade at the same time." Rebirth was always a very present memory for him; the pain and rebuilding a visceral, continuing experience that assaulted all of his senses.

She nodded without replying, her red hair peeking out of the headscarf. They were both silent, each remembering the agony of Project Rebirth. He moved next to her, taking her hand in reassurance as she said, "When I became aware of my surroundings again, the suffering man was dead – he'd ripped out his own throat. A HYDRA swine ran into the room, and seeing me and the dead test subject, sounded the alarm. My camera had been destroyed in the struggle, so I ran for the exit. I was astonished, as I'd never run so fast." Steve smiled as he remembered his own shock at his new abilities. She chuckled, "Twice, I ran into walls."

He laughed outright and nodded his understanding, while she grinned.

"I encountered HYDRA soldiers, but I was a scythe cutting through wheat. Within minutes, I was out of the facility – after leaping over the closing gates – and running faster than a vehicle as I made my way out of town. Two days later, I was back in the Soviet Union via Switzerland."

They were silent a long time, letting her story settle in their minds. "And in 1941, they needed you more as a soldier than a spy?" he asked. Her silent nod was enough.

"I heard about Doctor Erskine escaping to America and was glad for him. His brilliance aside, he was a very nice man. He always asked after everyone's family. One time I came down with a cold and his wife brought me a container of hot soup. He had pictures of his children on his desk and was always showing us any new ones. Lovely people."

Steve hadn't known the man nearly as well as Natalia apparently had, but he'd liked Abraham Erskine very much indeed.

"When I heard about your Project Rebirth event, and becoming Captain America, I became very excited." She turned to him, taking both of his hands in hers, "You were a person who could understand me. All my life before the serum I was the perfect student, the perfect spy. I had very few friends for no one could understand me. Later, with my abilities enhanced, that divide deepened and widened significantly to the point where I had no friends. No one to love who loved all of me in return."

Her eyes were earnestly wide, nearly begging him to understand. Steve realized that she was wagering quite a bit of herself on these revelations. She was being vulnerable like she'd never done before. Taking a moment, he reflected upon his own story as he resonated so deeply and clearly with Natalia and her experiences. The truth was quick to come and was unavoidable.

Emotionally, Steve nodded in empathetic understanding. Peggy and Bucky were great friends of his, but there was always a distance there. Peggy had become a great friend, and at one point he'd had quite a crush on her. Walking in on her and Private Lorraine in a steamy embrace while they were half undressed had put paid to that idea, though. Nonetheless, she was still a good friend. But…there was that divide where on one side she was normal Margaret Carter, and the other side he wasn't just Steve Rogers, but also Captain America.

He loved Bucky like a brother. Really, he was closer than a brother, but when they reunited in Austria, Bucky looked at him differently. They weren't the same people as when they'd been growing up in Brooklyn. Steve was different. He didn't need Bucky to take care of him and that change seemed to cast Bucky adrift a bit. There was no mistaking that Steve and Bucky were still the best of friends, but it was different now.

Natalia, though, she understood. There was no divide, and he couldn't help finding himself drawn to her. They'd become very good friends this week on the road through Poland, but a small torch had been lit in his heart for her. He didn't like to admit it, in fact, he'd only admitted it once, but Steve was a hopeless romantic. Perhaps it was his artistic temperament. Perhaps it was inherent to his perpetual optimism. Regardless of its source, there it was and he had to force himself to swallow words that he'd regret later.

Trying to keep control of his impulsive voice, he nodded sagely, conveying his empathy with the divide between themselves and the rest of humanity. Squeezing her hands gently, he whispered, "I understand all too well."

.oOo.

28 February 1944
Plock, Poland

They pushed on to Plock, arriving in the late afternoon, before dinner. Their guide – still unintroduced – hurried them across the Vistula, once again, then through the northern half of the town to a small, isolated, farmhouse. As the other guides had done before him, he banged thrice on the door which opened to reveal a young woman not much older than Steve and Natalia. The guide murmured to the woman who nodded briskly. The guide turned sharply, nodded to the two Allies before making his way south back to Lodz.

"I am Irena. Come in," she beckoned in English with a slight accent.

Steve preceded Natalia, scanning the home. There was no one else there, just a small fire burning on the hearth and the making of a stew on a cutting board. There were mainly root vegetables laid out to be peeled and chopped, but there was a very small pile of meat in the corner that made Steve salivate immediately. He was too polite to complain about the fare the past week, but bread and water with some old cheese wasn't very filling. At the same time, his Ma's voice came to him, "Beggars can't be choosers, Steven."

"Can we help?" Natalia asked after she closed the door behind them.

Irena heard Natalia's soft Russian accent, and narrowed her eyes. Finally, she nodded, "You help me finish with this," she waved her hand at the food. "We shall eat before moving on. You," she turned to Steve, "Go get the goats into the barn and stock their fodder."

Reflexively, Steve nodded and muttered, "Yes ma'am." He was halfway out the door when he realized he'd no idea how to do any of that. He'd never even seen a live goat much less brought them into a barn and stocked their fodder.

Forty minutes later, a dirty and bedraggled Steve Rogers was washing his manure covered hands, feet and his left cheek at Irena's water pump with homemade lye soap as he stood in the barn yard. "Difficult time with the goats?" he heard Natalia's laughing voice behind him.

"Yeah, yeah," he replied to her teasing. "This one goat with horns really didn't want to cooperate. At all." Rinsing the lye soap from his hands, he added, "But the baby goats were pretty cute." Natalia's tinkling laughter caused him to turn. It was the sweetest sound he'd ever heard and her expression of amused delight matched the sound. He couldn't help himself, as he laughed with her.

She was a fellow officer of an Allied country as they fought the scourge of the planet. They were both enhanced super soldiers who bore a significant responsibility in thwarting the designs of the madman Red Skull. He had no business, nor any time, to be falling in love with this woman. It was inappropriate. It was possibly a security breach as she was Russian. He may never see her again after this mission. Watching her double over with delight when she noticed his boots still covered in muck, he realized the truth as he continued to laugh.

None of that matters. I love her. I am so fucked.

.oOo.

It began to snow as they shared their meal in the snug, warm home. Irena was a gracious hostess, but not overly friendly. She did crack a smile when Natalia told her about Steve's misadventures with the goats, though. In her dry voice, she commented wryly, "The one with the big horns and the beard is the male. If you tether the one with the small horns – the female – the kids and the male will follow her in to the barn." She squinted at him mischievously, "Imagine that. The male following after the female."

Natalia's grin was very wide; her green eyes were sparkling in the firelight like those of a cat.

Steve nodded, but didn't reply. He grew up with a strong woman and knew when he'd lost.

"This bread is good," Steve complimented in Polish to Irena. Tearing another chunk from the brown bread, he swabbed the gravy of his third helping of the stew.

"It is called Chleb prądnicki," Irena replied as she cut her eyes to Natalia. Confused, Steve looked to his Russian partner who became suddenly focused on her glass of goat's milk, "and Natalia baked for us."

Unaccountably pleased, Steve toasted her with the remains of his dinner, "You did much better with your chores than I did. Thank you, this is delicious."

She shrugged, "Irena is a good teacher."

With that, Steve stood to collect the dishes for washing, while Irena moved to the window. Peering out, she pronounced in English, "The weather is too…foul?" she looked to Steve who nodded at her word selection, "to head to Torun tonight. It is a two day walk and this weather is deadly. We may be here for a few days." She muttered something about so much snow so late in winter, but Steve didn't catch it all. Apparently, this was an unusual snowstorm for late February.

Steve and Natalia shared another glance. For some reason, spending two or three days with Natalia didn't seem too much of a hardship. Understanding the cellular organizational nature of the Polish Resistance, Steve didn't offer to press on without Irena, even though he and Natalia could easily survive the storm. She'd not tell them who or where the next stop of the railroad was, so they would have to be content to wait out the weather.

After cleaning up, Irena headed into her bedroom for the night. Steve sat at the table after stoking the fire a bit. Natalia sat next to him, gazing into the fire. Nearly whispering, she asked, "Do you think our men got out?"

Steve sighed. This was a point that had crossed his mind as she and he had fled the pursuing SS troops that first night. He'd had to banish the thought thereafter lest it drive him mad. "I don't know for sure, but I believe they did." He placed his hand over hers when he offered, "I've not mentioned it before as I didn't know how, but I'm sorry for the loss of your men during the counterattack."

She nodded soberly. "They fought for the Rodina. For our future. They died defending their families. What else could a warrior ask for in death?"

He nodded his understanding. War, death and killing were not new to him. In the dark of the night, the faces of those he'd slain came to him. There were some he didn't regret; they were monsters who needed to be put down. Others…they were men like him fighting for their own families who just happened to be in Germany or the other occupied countries. The dreams on those nights were terrible.

"Indeed," he replied to her. Dead was dead; there was very little honor in death. However, the survivors could find meaning there for those gone in order to lessen their own pain.

The two sat there, comfortable in their silence as the fire crackled and the snow fell outside. Finally, Steve nodded toward the closed bedroom door as he asked, "Are you sharing with Irena tonight?" Standing, he unrolled a spare blanket and tossed a seat cushion on the floor for a pillow.

Natalia snorted a laugh. "No. That was never offered nor asked. I will sleep out here with you by the fire." It was unspoken, but understood that a Russian wasn't welcomed by the Pole.

Again, Steve was unaccountably pleased that she chose to sleep next to him, regardless of the reasons. Being the gentleman he was, he let her lay closest to the fire after she banked it for the night. In the dark, she whispered, "Steven…it will be cold tonight."

Now nervous, he had a small idea what she was going to say, and it both thrilled and terrified him.

After a long pause, she finished, "I will not kill you if we share our blankets and body heat. I trust you to be a gentleman."

He smiled in the dark at her phrasing. "If you're sure," he murmured.

"I am."

He tossed his blanket over her, and snuggled up behind her. Gently wrapping his right arm over her, they settled in for the best night's sleep either had had in years.

.oOo.

29 February 1944
Plock, Poland

Upon awakening, Steve found to Natalia laying on his chest and there'd been a moment where he'd gently pulled her close. He smiled as she snuffled in her sleep, curling into him. Enjoying the moment, he lay there reciting his morning prayers. As he grew older, Steve had matured from reciting prayers by rote in times of contemplation and tried to truly reach out to his God. He thanked Him for his health and safety, the safety of his men, those who had helped them along their way.

This thought brought poor Jozef to mind. Wrapping Natalia a little tighter in his arms, he shortened his prayer to, May his soul rest in your perpetual light, Lord.

He thanked God for Natalia in his life. She was already very important to him on multiple levels. And I think I'm more than half in love with her, Lord.

He prayed for strength; mental, emotional and spiritual. Despite all the good-natured teasing from his men and others, Steve knew that his true strength came from within. The 'good man' that Doctor Erskine had recognized is what fueled his serum enhanced muscles and gave him the will to do that which was necessary. In his prayer, he gave voice to all his hopes and dreams to defend those he loved and for the unnamed defenseless.

Feeling more centered after his morning meditation, Steve considered their overall situation.

Based on the map of Poland that he had studied before the operation, he and Natalia still had approximately 250 kilometers to Danzig. From there…he wondered if he could convince her to come to the UK and join up with the Commandos. Yes, she outranked him, but Falsworth was a Brigadier and it made no difference. Something to think about.

They needed more food for the road. Perhaps Irena could provide.

Weapons were a doubled edged sword. He had his shield, and she had the German bayonets that she'd kept, as well as, her rifle with only thirty rounds remaining. They weren't going to win a pitched battle, but they could fight their way out of a jam. They could be used skillfully, but in their use, they told their enemy their location.

Double edged sword indeed.

He was worried about the German patrol they'd killed outside Lodz. Their guide implied that this was not a new situation for them in getting rid of the evidence. Hopefully, the Germans would attribute the loss of the patrol to the routine predations of the Polish Resistance and not to two escaping Allied soldiers. "Hope is not a valid plan, Rogers!" he heard Colonel Phillips shout in his ear. Nodding to himself, he resolved to be ready for confrontation.

As he wondered about a way to carry his shield that was easier to access than stuck in the sack, while remaining hidden, Natalia began to stir in his arms.

"Good morning," he whispered.

She squeezed him in response.

The rustling from the bedroom told them that Irena was about to be up and about. Natalia raised her head from Steve's chest and for a long moment while she was in the circle of his arms, their gaze met. He'd been shy and unsure about the nature of their friendship. Yes, he respected her as a soldier; she was an excellent soldier come to that. He found her witty, and compassionate behind her typical neutral Russian exterior. He cared for her a great deal, but in that moment, he saw that she felt the same for him.

Her gaze flicked to his lips and for a moment, he thought she was going to kiss him. He hoped that she would kiss him.

To hell with waiting.

And he kissed her.

Time seemed to stop as it is wont to do in life altering situations. Steve had kissed and been kissed by girls before, but Natalia was a woman and what a woman indeed.

She was immobile for a moment, maybe in shock. Before he could pull back, her hands went his cheeks, cradling him in the sweetest kiss ever. She broke it off, pecking his lips one last time before smiling at him. "I don't know what's going to happen in the future, but I've been waiting for that, Steven Rogers."

He just smiled as she stood. Shaking out her skirts, she moved to the fire to relight it and stoke it to warm the room.

Steve hopped up, folding their shared blanked and putting the room to rights. Peering outside the room, he made a general noise of discontent. She turned to him; her unspoken question evident. "There must be a foot of snow out there," Steve observed as he nodded towards the window. She sighed, obviously going through the same thought process that he'd done the night before.

They weren't going to Torun and then on to Danzig without Irena.

Irena wasn't going in this weather.

Therefore, they weren't going anywhere anytime soon.

Steve sighed as he and Natalia traded a look of resigned frustration. Irena's home was isolated and at the end of a lane. No one had any cause to casually pass by. Steve and Natalia could go out the back way to the barn if they needed to, clearing the snow so as to leave no footprints. Their stealth was their defense and they were well hidden. They were as safe as could be in a Nazi occupied country.

However…

"Don't get me wrong, I appreciate everything they are doing for us," Natalia murmured as she stoked the fire. "But I much prefer to be moving and not waiting."

"Me too," Steve agreed as he sliced some of the radishes that Irena had left out the night before. As the fire built up, he handed the skillet to Natalia to suspend in the grate over the fire so he could cook the eggs for the day. Glancing at Irena's door, he heard the woman shuffling about so he whispered, "I've got to admit, I'm looking forward to a hot breakfast."

Natalia's eyes widened in agreement as she nodded forcefully. "Is there any of the meat left from last night?"

Steve rummaged about before he exclaimed, "Yes!" as he held up a bowl with three links of kielbasa nestled therein. Handing the meat to Natalia, he began to rustle in his pockets. Withdrawing a wad of banknotes, he saw that Natalia was regarding him with an inquisitive expression. "The army gave me a small supply of Zloty in case we were stranded. Nodding at the bowl of sausages, he added, "Meat costs money. I don't want to eat her out of house and home. Especially with her helping us."

At that point, Irena came into the main room and smoothly picked up the discussion thread, "And I appreciate it."

Natalia grinned as the dry Pole shuffled into the room. Bending over, she grabbed a bucket. Handing it to Steve, she nodded before heading to the back room again.

Completely puzzled and flummoxed, he looked to the now grinning Natalia. Holding it up, he asked, "What do I do with this?"

Snickering, Natalia replied, "You use it to catch the milk from the nanny-goat."

He was sure that his face now had a green hue. "Oh." Nodding uncertainly, he headed to the back door and the barn. Turning back to her, he asked, "Er, do you know how…?"

Her eyebrow arched, "To milk a goat?"

Shrugging, he replied, "Yeah."

She smirked as she strode past him, "Come Stepan Iosifovich, I will teach you how to milk a goat."

.oOo.

Steve shoveled the snow from the path to the outhouse and the barn to have something to do while waiting for the weather to clear. Coming in at lunch, he found Natalia studying her map case. Looking about, he asked, "Irena?"

Without looking up, Natalia replied, "She went to town to get more food."

Smiling, he sidled next to her, tapping her shoulder deliberately. Preoccupied, she looked up at him only for Steve to kiss her firmly. He felt her smile under his lips as her arms circled his neck. Opening himself to her, he felt her open her mouth to him as well. Minutes later, he had her up on the table while they pressed themselves into the other. She pulled back, panting with desire, while his eyes focused on her kiss swollen lips.

"Not now," she whispered while looking into his eyes. Brushing his hair to a semblance of order, she murmured, "When we have more time." They heard the footsteps of Irena stomping the mud and snow off her boots from the front of the house. Grinning, she added, "and more privacy." Kissing him one last time, she moved to the front door to peer out to see if the irascible Irena was followed.

The woman stormed into the house, a sack on her shoulder. "The weather has cleared and the snow is melting. We leave at first light tomorrow."

.oOo.

That night, once again they curled into each other in front of the banked fireplace. This time, though, she faced him as they kissed and cuddled. "Part of me wants so much more," he whispered. At her curious expression, he elaborated, "I want to take you to dinner, dancing, and the cinema. I want to wine and dine you." He grinned, "Like you Russians, I'm a romantic." He smiled as he shook his head while he opened up about his incurable romantic nature.

She rolled her eyes and smiled along with him. "Steven," she whispered in reply. "We have tonight and the road to Danzig. Let us savor what we have when we have it."

Moving close to her, he whispered, "Da," before kissing her deeply.

A/N

1. I own nothing. Recommendation for this chapter is Love My Soul Can Reach (I think I made you up inside my head) by mylifeisloki, xo_stardust720 on AO3. Great fic, check it out

2. I wept writing this chapter.

3. Steve and Natalia's path to Danzig:
Krakow to Keilce 100 KM x2 days
Keilce to Radom 80 KM x1 day
Radom to Lodz 180 km x3 days
Lodz to Plock 117 KM x2 days
Plock to Torun 101 KM x2 days

4. Translations courtesy of Google Translate

Russian Translations
Da = yes
Yebena mat = Holy Shit
Udovletvoryat = good/satisfactory
Toropit'sya = Hurry
Nyet = No
Svinya = Swine
Dobroy nochi = Goodnight
Monstry = Monsters
Bog vidit pravdu = God sees the truth

Polish Translations
Tutaj = over here
Niemiecki = German
Tak = yes
Muszę się zmienić = I have to change
Dziękuję Ci = Thank you

German Translations
Ausweispapiere = Identification Papers
Wer ist das mit di? = Who is this with you?
Ehefrau = Wife
Schwester = Sister
Wo gehst du hin = Where are you going
Idiot! ich weiß das = Idiot! I know that
Warum = Why
Juden = Jew
Nein, abschaum = No, just scum
Verlassen = Leave