Chapter Twenty-Five: North Star
A cold, sharp needle pierces his skin. Liquid flows into his veins, icy cold and burning hot all at once. Pain flares in his veins, lighting up every nerve on a warpath of destruction as it pumps through him.
He tries to fight it, to move away from the hand clasped on his upper arm, but a thick strap across his chest holds him down. He can't move his legs or arms. He can't move anything. He can't get away.
"Stop," he begs. "Please."
A round face wearing thick glasses peers down at him. The man smiles without any warmth and mutters something unintelligible.
"What are you doing to me?" he asks, but the man does not answer.
Another jab, this time in his left arm. He watches through blurry vision as a syringe fills with dark red blood—his blood. Somehow, it's worse, having a part of him taken without his consent.
"Stop! No!"
He can't move. He can't breathe. The light above him flickers, and the man readjusts the angle. The leather straps dig into his skin and cut at his exposed wrists. It constricts him like a fierce serpent.
"Please!"
Bucky.
He strains against the binds tethering him to the cold, metal table. The lights blind him, and the round-faced man appears again in his line of sight.
Bucky, calm down.
He won't calm down. He wants out. He wants it to stop. It hurts, and hurts, and hurts…
Bucky. Hey.
The man pats his face and slides another needle into his arm. It pinches as it breaches his skin and punctures a vein.
It's okay. Just breathe.
"No! Stop!"
Just breathe, Buck.
He's so cold. It's cold and it hurts and he can't move…
He can't move. Fighting isn't helping, there is nothing he can do. It's pinning him down, down, down.
Bucky, it's okay.
The man with the glasses smiles again and reaches for another needle.
His veins burn. His head hurts. His heart threatens to burst from his chest. He can't breathe. And he can't stop the needle hovering above him, threatening to…
"No!" Bucky wakes with a shout and jolts upright. His head knocks against Steve's chin, who leans backward with an "oof."
His chest heaves as he sucks in gulps of air. He's sweating and shaking and numb.
"It's okay," Steve says. He places a hand on Bucky's back and untucks Bucky's sleeping bag away from his arms.
His hands now free from the confines of the soft sleeping bag, Bucky rubs his eyes with his palms and gathers his composure. He notices he had somehow moved from his side of the tent to smush up against Steve.
"Another nightmare?" Steve asks.
"Yeah," Bucky mutters. He accepts the bottle of water Steve offers. The water is cold and washes away the lump in his throat. His skin still tingles in the elbows where the needles had pierced.
"Wanna talk about it?"
"No."
Steve hums in disapproval.
It's the same story almost every night. Bucky has a nightmare and Steve wakes him up and asks if he's okay. Bucky always says no, because the nightmares are not just nightmares—they're memories, real events he had experienced, and something he never wants to think about. The nightmares are bad enough on their own. Talking about them would only dig up the horrors he had tried his hardest to bury.
Crickets chirp in the distance. His nightmare surely must have awakened the other guys in the camp. Dugan had complained once about Bucky waking him up in the middle of the night but Steve quickly silenced him with a withering glare. Not even Dugan is dumb enough to argue with an overprotective supersoldier.
It still did not stop the other guys from talking about Bucky behind his back. They were all there at Azzano. They had all seen the Hydra guards drag him after he had collapsed from pneumonia-induced exhaustion. Everyone at the factory had theories about what happened to those taken away to the isolation ward. And they never had expected anyone to return.
He had been the first one—the only one—to survive Zola's experiments. And for the most part, aside from Steve's near-constant worry, the guys left him alone.
"Are you sure you're fine?" Steve asks.
Bucky squeezes his eyes shut and frowns. "Steve, if you ask me that one more time, I swear, Imma punch you in the face. I'm fine, okay? Stop worrying."
"You know I can't," Steve says. "Especially not when we're gonna be staying with the 90th for a few months soon."
"Yay. Civilization," Bucky mutters. He picks at a loose piece of thread on his sleeping bag. His shirt clings to his skin, sticky with sweat despite his shivers. He needs a bath.
"I thought you liked people." Steve pokes Bucky in the side to stop him from yanking apart his sleeping bag.
"Not when we're only there 'cause Hydra's in the area." He twists the thread around his finger and yanks. It breaks off and he flicks it onto Steve's lap, who gives him a disapproving look. "I want this to be over."
"So do I," Steve replies. He brushes the strand onto the ground and pulls Bucky's arm away from another loose thread. Bucky's constant picking always bothered him. "But we can't until we stop Hydra."
"And put a bullet in Zola's brain," Bucky adds.
Steve nods. "That too." He lays down and settles into his sleeping bag. "On the plus side, you can always find some pretty French girl to dance with. If you think you can beat the 90th to it."
Bucky playfully punches Steve on the arm. "You're just sad 'cause Carter's not here."
"At least she would give me space to sleep. Move over." Steve pushes at Bucky. He's pressed up against his side of the tent while Bucky's side is devoid of, well, Bucky.
Bucky huffs out a laugh. "What's the point of talking to a pretty dame if she doesn't cuddle you at night?"
"You're not a pretty girl," Steve shoots back. He pushes at Bucky again who relents and scoots over to his side. "You move too much when you sleep. And you talk, too."
"Someone's gotta keep you on your toes, pal. And until you finally get the courage to ask Carter out, it's gonna be me."
Steve's eyes narrow in confusion. "You're so weird."
"You're weird." Bucky sticks out his tongue, causing Steve to roll his eyes.
"Go to sleep."
"Good night to you, too, punk."
Bucky rolls over onto his left side and stares at the burlap walls of the tent. Phantom pains of needles crawl over his skin and he shivers.
He doesn't sleep again that night.
In high spirits, the 90th marched over the endless fields of France, liberating towns from the clutches of the Nazis. French townsfolk welcomed the American troops with open arms and joyful faces. Everyone basked in the glory of victory. Freedom rang like a beacon of hope as the Allies blazed their way across France and pushed the Nazis further and further out of the country.
Knights in shining armour riding a brilliant, white horse to rescue the princess, the 90th slayed the Nazis and swept across the land. The horses were tanks and trucks, and sweat, dirt, and blood covered the weary men, but the townsfolk still hailed the soldiers as heroes. They offered bouquets of daisies and barrels of wine or cider to the soldiers as a part of their welcoming ceremony—a glorious celebration.
Nobody complained if the drinks were watery or the flowers wilted. The relief on the people's faces made all the soldiers' struggles and the battles worth it. Hell, it made them willing to lay down their lives for these people just to have the chance to receive daisies from little girls dressed in their finest outfits, to watch the boys play, to have the elderly smother them in hugs and kisses—to witness the burden of the Nazis' oppression lift from the town.
They were on top of the world. And everyone could feel it.
Smiles overpowered the frowns, and the only tears shed were from joy. Simple reprieves such as a bath or a warm meal lightened the tension among the soldiers. Laughter replaced the bullets and explosions, and cries of pain faded into the past. The end of the war stood just over the horizon, and then, like in a fairytale, everyone will live happily ever after.
Colonel Clark Jr. replaced Colonel Partridge on August third for reasons unknown to the 358th. A smaller, specialized group also joined the 90th in late August. The group helped the 90th organize plans to cross the border into Germany. Despite the excitement from Captain freaking America—of all people—joining the 90th, nobody knew much about the team. The brass told everyone to remain "hush-hush" about Captain America's whereabouts. Needless to say, everyone enjoyed the extra help, and the team quickly assimilated into the regiment.
Brief skirmishes occurred in a few towns, but the 90th mopped up the mess the Nazis left behind and returned the towns' control to the French people. The number of prisoners the 90th took swelled at an extraordinary rate. Once inexperienced and unlucky, the "Tough Ombres," the 90th's adopted nickname, solidified its position as a formidable and fear-inducing force.
And within those forces, brave and honorable men outshined the heralds of darkness and sought justice for the world. They were all willing to die for their cause—to sacrifice their lives for the betterment and protection of others.
If only more soldiers carried that sentiment when it came to their fellow soldiers.
A few bad apples always exist in every bunch. Yet, the rottenness and hatred could not sour the rest of the troops. They did not always get along, but when it came to fighting together, they always rose to the occasion.
Off the battlefield was a whole other matter.
Garcia and Lemay, like unceasing weeds popping out of nowhere, started harassing Suzie again. Colonel Clark had relaxed several previous restrictions, including Suzie's. If Corporal Vazquez approved Suzie's involvement, she could join certain missions, but she still had to check in daily with her MP.
Glad to participate again, Suzie appreciated Colonel Clark's change. However, because he wanted everyone to work together, Clark also allowed Garcia and Lemay to rejoin the unit without any restrictions. Like Suzie, they still had to check in with their MP, but did not have to keep a certain distance away from Suzie. Colonel Clark must have assumed that Garcia and Lemay had learned their lesson and had spent enough time under the MPs' watchful eyes.
Nothing could be more wrong.
The instant Clark removed their punishment, Garica and Lemay were back to their old shenanigans, and this time, not even Vazquez interfered. Vazquez, who held a grudge against Suzie, feigned ignorance whenever Garcia and Lemay bothered her.
It started with minor annoyances such as stealing Suzie's drink during mealtimes or putting a snake in Suzie's sleeping bag. Garcia and Lemay hid her boots once, causing her to show up bootless and late for a meeting. The brass lectured her about timeliness and keeping track of her equipment. She ended up with latrine cleaning duty for the rest of the week. Vazquez called her stupid for forgetting her belongings when he knew full well that Garica and Lemay were messing with her.
It only escalated from there.
They dumped mud in her backpack, forcing her to get new items from a grumpy quartermaster who scolded her for making a senseless mess and needing new supplies. Garcia stole her soap, Lemay broke her compass, and they tripped her whenever possible.
And they only did it when they were alone or in front of Vazquez, who they knew would not report them. It pitted Suzie's word against theirs, and considering her recent act of disobedience in the line of duty, the brass might never believe Suzie if she complained.
And it did not stop at her. No, Garcia and Lemay came back with a vengeance. Because they knew it would rile Suzie up, they targeted Alice.
Everything from pouring water onto Alice to yanking her hair, making vulgar remarks, and calling her names, they only targeted Alice when Suzie was nearby. They always timed it perfectly to avoid witnesses or to have someone show up right before Suzie would confront them.
Richard, thankfully, remained clear of their torments. They were not allowed in the infirmary, but Alice, who wandered around the camp whenever she had downtime, was free game.
Alice had tried complaining to the brass at one point, only for them to tell her to stay out of the soldiers' way. It had not gone over well for Alice, and she had spent the rest of the day sulking and scribbling an angry complaint to Uncle Stone while Suzie kept watch.
It all came to a head when both Suzie and Alice were leaving the infirmary. Almost as soon as they stepped outside the tent, Garcia and Lemay sauntered over wearing predatory grins on their stupid faces.
"Don't you have something better to do?" Alice questioned when the duo approached.
"We can always make time for a pretty broad like you," Garcia said. He waved a dismissive hand at Suzie and winked at Alice. "Why don't you leave your pathetic boyfriend and join us, sweetcheeks? We'll make you feel good."
Alice put her hands on her hips and stepped in front of Suzie, shielding her from the duo. She glared at Garica as the wind whipped her skirt around her knees, as if emphasizing her anger. "You can make me 'feel good' by leaving. Go away."
The wind had loosened Alice's blonde hair from its updo. Garcia's grin spread wider, and he twirled a lock of Alice's hair around his finger. Alice tried pulling away, but Garcia yanked her toward him. Tripping over herself from the sudden motion, Alice fell against Garcia's chest. His muscular arms wrapped around Alice's thin frame, and he aimed a kiss at Alice's lips. Alice turned her head in time for Garcia to plant a sloppy kiss on Alice's cheek instead.
"Let go of her!" Suzie shouted. She swung a kick at Garcia's shin, narrowly avoiding Alice's swinging legs. Lemay charged over and shoved Suzie away. She landed on her rear, swirling up dust and crunching leaves. A heavy post staking the tent into the ground dug into Suzie's calf and left a painful welt.
Garcia and Lemay laughed and strode away with Alice struggling in Garcia's arms. They headed for a secluded area behind the tent with surely something sinister in mind.
As she scrambled for purchase, Suzie's hand brushed against a small rock. She curled her fist around it, stood up, and chucked it at the back of Garcia's head.
The rock smashed into Garcia's head, and he pitched forward, dropping Alice in the process. Alice tumbled to the ground and rolled away from Garcia. In the fall, Alice's wrist snapped loud enough for Suzie to hear.
"Go on!" Suzie shouted and motioned for Alice to leave. "Get out of here!"
"Are you crazy?!" Alice replied. She cradled her broken wrist against her chest and stood on shaking legs.
"Go get help. I've got this!"
Alice nodded and took off. And not a moment too soon because Lemay and Garcia circled Suzie like a pair of hungry vultures.
"Are you sure about that, Barnes?" Garcia growled. His fists clenched at his sides, and his dark eyes flashed in anger. "We shoulda taken care of you a long time ago."
Sparing a glance at Alice's retreating form, Suzie balled her hands into fists and shifted into a defensive fighting stance. She did not trust her abilities to take on both Garcia and Lemay, but it kept Alice safe Suzie could care less about herself.
They had crossed the line, and they were going to pay.
"Why didn't you?" Suzie taunted. "Or are you cowards?"
Lemay picked up the rock Suzie had thrown and hurled it at Suzie. She ducked, and it pelted the side of a parked truck with a 'clang'.
The infirmary stood away from people on the far end of the camp. Two tents, a truck, and several trees surrounded them, and Garcia and Lemay blocked the only opening in the small space. She had nowhere to run.
Against her better judgment, Suzie stood her ground.
Lemay made the first move, charging at her like a rabid bull. Suzie side-stepped, and he couldn't slow down in time to stop himself from ramming into the truck. The collision rocked the truck on its tires.
Garcia growled and unleashed a wild haymaker at Suzie's head. She blocked with her elbow and forearm tucked against her head. The force rattled Suzie's teeth, and her forearm cracked under Garcia's fist.
Always go for the groin first, Bucky reminded her. A hit in the family jewels can cripple even the toughest of guys.
And she had never forgotten the easiest way to end a fight against a man.
Ignoring the pain swelling in her arm, Suzie struck a quick jab at Garcia's nose. With all the strength she could muster, she whipped her knee up into Garcia's groin. He bellowed in anger and stumbled backward, clutching at himself.
A heavy weight collided with Suzie, knocking the wind out of her and tackling her to the ground. Lemay's bulk pinned Suzie onto her stomach, and he punched her in the temple. It drove her chin into the dirt, and her teeth cut into the soft inside of her cheek. Blood poured into her mouth, coppery and red, and she coughed out a thick wad.
Lemay's fingers tangled into Suzie's hair. A few strands snapped in his grip, and he wrenched Suzie's head backward before slamming her face into the stony ground. Dirt clung to Suzie's chin, turning sticky from the blood dripping from her mouth. Tears welled in her eyes, and her vision swam.
Garcia staggered over, and Lemay lifted Suzie to kneel while pinning her arms behind her back. Lemay's giant hands curled around her wrists, squeezing hard enough to bruise. Suzie wrestled against Lemay, but his hefty weight and muscle overpowered her.
"Not so confident now, are you?" Garcia snarled into Suzie's ear. He grabbed a fistful of Suzie's hair and yanked her head upward so he could meet her eyes. "If we can't have your little blondie girlfriend, we'll have you. You're our little bitch now."
Suzie spat in his face. Blood and spit dripped down Garcia's cheek, and he wiped it away. He let out an unamused laugh and punched her right in the stomach.
The blow caused her to double over in Lemay's grasp. A weak cough splattered more blood onto the ground.
"You're pathetic," Garcia said. He punched her in the stomach again. "You've ruined our military careers."
"You did that yourself," Suzie muttered. Tiny black dots danced in front of her, and she swore she could feel her bones bending under Lemay's grip.
"What did you just say to me?" Garcia growled. He socked Suzie on the jaw.
Her head whipped to the side, and her teeth rattled in her skull. She spat out a mouthful of blood and a small piece from a chipped tooth.
"You did that yourself, you bastards," Suzie spat. She glared at Garcia and only squeezed her eyes shut when he hit her again, this time on the other side of her head. The impact strained her neck, and if her nose did not break earlier, it did now.
Garcia wound up for another punch. "You b—"
"What the hell is going on here?!"
Startled, Garcia dropped his arm to his side and whirled around. Lemay also let go of Suzie and she slumped to the ground.
"Ain't your business, asshole," Garcia snapped. He took a step forward, ready to fight.
A man stepped into the dusty area. From her spot on the ground, Suzie could only see his boots and the bottom half of his pants, but his heavy Brooklyn accent sounded familiar.
"It's Sergeant," the man corrected, unfazed, "and you'll address me as such."
"Sir, we—" Garcia muttered.
"What? You didn't get enough time fighting the Nazis, so you have to fight your own? I want your names. I'm reporting you to your commanding officer, and I don't want to see you around this young man again. Understood?"
Not so tough now they had been caught by a ranking officer, Garcia and Lemay relented and gave the man their names. The sergeant ordered them to leave, and he watched the duo shuffle away.
"Damn bastards," the sergeant cursed. He extended a hand to Suzie and pulled her to her feet. "You okay?"
Suzie winced and rubbed the dirt and blood from her face with the inside of her shirt collar. Her nose hurt. She had broken her nose twice in her life and both times were because of Garcia and Lemay.
"I'm okay. Thanks," Suzie wheezed. She blinked away the dark spots in her vision and dragged a hand through her matted hair. Remnants of Lemay's fingers tugged at her scalp and squeezed her wrists. It would take days for all the bruises to heal.
"What'd they want?" the sergeant asked. He placed a hand on Suzie's shoulder, and it instantly reminded her of Bucky comforting her after a rough day at school. The warm hand, the gentle assurance, the calm bravery—why did this stranger remind her of Bucky?
"They were gonna hurt my friend. A nurse," Suzie muttered toward her feet. Dirt caked her boots and a few splotches of her blood dotted the rocky ground. "They've been bothering me since basic. I don't know why."
The sergeant let out a small chuckle and then froze once he realized his insensitive mistake.
"Sorry," he apologized. "It's just that you remind me of my friend. He's always taking on bullies twice his size, but he always has to do what's right. I swear he's gonna get himself killed one day."
Suzie's eyes narrowed in confusion. Why did that remind her of Steve? The man sure sounded like Bucky complaining about Steve's shenanigans.
The sergeant shifted beside Suzie. "I'm sorry, I never got your name. I kinda need it for the report."
"Yeah, it's uh…"
Suzie finally looked up at the man. He wore a handsome dark blue jacket but it compared nothing to the intense, steel-blue of his eyes. His face seemed familiar. She had seen him before. Where had she seen him before?
It took a second for it to register in Suzie's mind. Brown hair, blue eyes, a square jaw…
Suzie let out a loud shout and clapped a hand over her mouth. She took a few steps back in disbelief.
"Bucky?!"
The man in question raised an eyebrow. "Y-Yeah?"
Suzie's eyes widened further like staring at a ghost. Her knees buckled, and she clutched Bucky's jacket.
"Oh my—" Suzie rushed forward and pressed herself against Bucky's chest as if trying to melt into him. She buried her head into his shoulder and started sobbing.
Bucky staggered and grunted from the force of Suzie colliding with him. He hesitated before patting her on the back, clearly confused by Suzie's reaction.
"Uh, listen, kiddo, I don't.." Bucky pried Suzie away from him and held her at arm's length.
This couldn't possibly be happening. It can't be real. It couldn't be real. She's got to be dreaming. This can't be...
Suzie trembled under his hands and tears streamed down her face. Any previous pain evaporated as she stared at her brother.
This isn't a dream. This is real! This is freaking real!
Bucky studied Suzie for a moment before his eyes widened and his jaw dropped.
"Holy shit! Suzie?!"
Bucky yanked Suzie into a tight embrace before Suzie could respond. He pressed her forehead into his shoulder and started muttering incoherently while dragging his fingers through Suzie's short hair.
Suzie clenched fistfuls of Bucky's jacket and sobbed. She could hear Bucky's heart thumping in his chest and feel his body shake. He smelled of gunsmoke and leather, always rock-steady and strong.
Bucky's alive! And here! And holding Suzie close like protecting her from a storm.
Bucky, her north star, finally found his way home.
School is starting soon, but I have the rest of the story already outlined so I have a better idea of what each chapter will contain. I'm aiming for 45 chapters but things might change. :P