Chapter title from Chris Stapleton's song, "Broken Halos".
This chapter (and whole story) is dedicated to my beloved dog, Sable.
Chapter Forty-Four: Broken Halos
A rush of fire licked at her clothes, burning her skin and snaking its way across the boat as she fell. Her feet splayed out beneath her when the floor suddenly quaked, her hands grabbing for something, anything, to hold onto.
The world tilted on its head, rocking the boat onto its side. Arms flailing, her feet slipped and she slammed first into the wooden dash and hurtled out of the cabin's cracked window. The impact of the shattering glass knocked the wind out of her when she sailed through it back first and into the night. Pitching head over heels, she screamed, her voice far away from her ears yet hoarse from the smoke clogging her lungs.
She hit the deck and slid, unable to grab anything to stop her descent until she reached the railing now running almost parallel to the water. Fingers straining, she brushed the cool metal railing only for her hand to slip free before she could close her fist. Falling over the side of the boat, she screamed as she plunged straight toward the oily water below. Eyes squeezed shut, she braced for impact, but it didn't come. Instead, a hand grabbed her wrist, halting her descent.
The force of it wrenched on her shoulder, popping it out of place before it snapped back into the socket. Above her, Bucky stood, his feet planted firmly on the railing, which now leaned perfectly parallel to the water. His single hand locked tight around her left wrist, beads of sweat clinging to his hair not from the effort of stopping her from falling into the water but from the fire blazing from the depths of the sheared hull above.
It took a few long moments for her to catch her breath and push aside the pain searing along her nerves. Blood from the superficial cuts from the shattered glass trickled into her eyes. She could feel the sting of several sharp objects lodged into her back from where she had flown through the window.
Locking eyes with her brother, Bucky nodded and held tight while Suzie swung herself upward to grab his arm with her free hand. The movement pulled on the wounds in her back, and she bit back a yell as she clung to her brother's wrist. He heaved her onto the sinking boat and didn't let go even when she found purchase onto the metal railing.
"Are you okay?" Bucky asked, moving his hand from her wrist to wrap around her waist to steady her.
Not trusting her voice, she nodded. Peering upward, she searched the darkness for any signs of Richard. The boat shook from the effort of staying afloat on the waves, sinking inch by inch as water poured in through the holes in the sides. Smoke billowed up to block the moon from view as flames churned inside the hull like a firey pit of hell inside their stolen boat.
A torpedo must have shot straight through the wood, ripping a hole straight through both sides of the hull. Tipped on one side and burning from the inside out, the boat wouldn't last long before it sank completely. They had only minutes to find something to grab onto before their inevitable dip into the frigid water.
"Suzie!" Richard's voice called out in the darkness, far away and up high.
Following the sound of his voice, Suzie looked up and found Richard dangling from the open stairwell leading to the burning lower deck. Both hands gripped the opening, no doubt feeling the heat of the fire. Any movement—a shift of the boat, a too-intense wave, wood charred into ash—would send him plummeting into the water.
"Hold on!" Suzie called. "We're coming to you!"
She took a tentative step sideways on the thin railing and almost slipped. Bucky's grip shifted from her waist to her upper arm to keep her from prematurely meeting the water.
A terrifying thought popped into her head as she shimmied along the railing, running her hand along the now vertical deck as support while she tried to reach a spot below where Richard hung.
Did Hydra have a submarine lying in wait to blow the boat to bits and recapture Bucky? Nobody else would've sent a torpedo to attack a fishing vessel. It couldn't have been an accident because something ripped a hole into the boat. Something had come in on one side and came out the other, exploding in the water to topple their boat onto its side. Only someone trained well enough knew how to detonate a torpedo to use the shockwave to knock a boat onto its side to sink it instead of blowing the whole thing up.
Blowing up a boat would've risked putting Bucky in harm's way—sinking it mitigated the risks. Hydra must've known if Bucky had survived a fall from a cliff, he could handle a plunge into the North Sea.
As for Richard and herself, they certainly wouldn't.
"They want to knock us into the water!" Suzie yelled above the roaring of blood in her ears, feeling as though she moved at a snail's pace. Each step took far too long for her liking, but she couldn't risk falling now and taking her brother into the sea.
"I thought they didn't want to hurt Bucky?" Richard shouted back. Smoke obscured his face from view, but he sounded terrified.
The boat kept tilting, slowly rolling onto its top. If she didn't reach Richard in time, they would all be trapped beneath it.
None of their training ever prepared them for this. Not even the Navy probably worried about a torpedo splitting a hole into their boat after the war's end.
Tears stung her eyes—tears only from the burning smoke instead of the white-hot anger bubbling inside. This never should've happened. It wasn't fair. Nobody else had to worry about Hydra following them halfway across Germany and into the North Sea. Nobody else had to worry if her not-dead brother would ever remember her again. Why did it have to be them?
"Sink the boat. Easier to grab," Bucky offered from behind Suzie. He sounded rather nonchalant, and dammit, that little tidbit did nothing to calm her racing nerves.
Damn it. Damn it all to hell.
The first must've finally reached the fuel tank because another blast sent the boat tipping completely over. Suzie's scream cut off as the force of the explosion knocked her sideways and off the railing. Bucky's hand slipped from her arm, and he disappeared from view as Richard lost his grip and fell.
The water closed in over Suzie's head. Any gasps or shouts sputtered out into waterlogged bubbles as cold, salt water choked her lungs. It soaked into her clothes, dragging her down and enveloping her in a shroud of darkness. Weightlessness dropped out, replaced by the feeling of sinking too fast for her to comprehend.
Thrashing in desperation to find the surface to breathe, she panicked. Any sound dialed down to a muted rumble, and she rolled, tossed about by the waves. She wouldn't drown, she couldn't drown. Bucky needed her. Richard needed her. Becca needed her.
She couldn't find the surface. Everything looked black. She couldn't grab anything to pull herself up, she just kept rolling and thrashing and trying not to swallow more water.
But she couldn't breathe, she couldn't breathe, she couldn't—
A hand wrapped around the strap of her lifejacket and yanked her head above the water, the rush of air into her lungs a blessing straight from heaven. Hacking up a lungful of water, she kicked and trembled, unable to see in the darkness. Water streamed down her face, and she inhaled too soon, sending another wave of panic coursing through her veins as she choked.
"I can't swim!" Suzie shouted, spitting out mouthfuls of water after mouthful of water. The saltiness clung to her tongue and coated the inside of her throat, burning the entire way up from her flooded lungs. "I can't swim!"
"Suzie," Bucky said, his voice distant and calm, yet his warmth felt close. "I'm here."
Blind, she reached out towards the sound of his voice. His hand guided hers to his face, letting her cup his cheek until she found enough courage to finally open her eyes. Wheezing, she traced his jawline, convincing herself he hadn't disappeared, she hadn't imagined all of this, she hadn't drowned.
While she calmed down and caught her breath, Bucky ushered her over to a floating chunk of wood. Judging by the charred and ragged ends, the explosion had blasted it from the boat. About the size of a small table built for only two people, it wouldn't hold any of their weight if they wanted to lie on it. But she felt better having something buoyant to hold onto.
"I'm supposed to be rescuing you, not the other way around," Suzie said. The humorless laugh tore against her sore throat and she descended into a coughing fit.
A small smile tugged on Bucky's lips once the coughing died down. "I can swim."
Feeling better now knowing the lifejackets worked and she had found her brother, Suzie observed the damage. Bucky appeared unharmed aside from a too-pale sheen leeching any color from his face and some minor cuts and bruises on his face.
As for herself, she could already feel the giant bruise forming on her back. First the window and now the water, both impacts had pushed the glass further into her skin. She'd be picking glass out of herself for days; the doctors would have a hell of a time finding everything if they ever reached a hospital. It ached something fierce and did nothing to ease the already stinging pain of shattered glass embedded into her back. Her right shoulder from where Bucky had caught her wrist throbbed from dislocating and then snapping into place in a matter of seconds. Everything hurt—her lungs, her throat, her entire body.
The boat looked as bad as she felt. Completely capsized now, only the bottom half stuck out of the water. Foam frothed up from the holes in the side where water poured into the hull. Bubbles of air escaped, tinged dark from the smoke. A thin layer of oil spread out around it, the fire scorching along the surface and lighting up the wreckage in a ring of bright orange. They wouldn't be going anywhere near the boat now, not with the oil fire obstructing it.
Whatever had hit them knew how to sink a boat without killing any of the occupants.
She hadn't drowned. Bucky had survived. The boat would sink but they would figure it out. Richard had...Richard...
"Where's Richard?" Suzie asked. From where she and Bucky floated about a hundred feet away, she couldn't see much beyond the ring of fire. "Where's Richard?!"
She called his name several times but heard nothing in response. Panic surged in her chest. In desperation, she started to swim toward the debris, but Bucky grabbed her arm and shook his head.
"I'm sorry," Bucky said. "He was a good man."
"No," Suzie growled, shaking her head as if the act could cause Richard to materialize in front of her unharmed. "No, he's not dead! He's not!" Struggling against Bucky, she called out again, "Richard!"
No response.
"No. No! Nonono! He can't! He can't!"
Bucky said nothing but tightened his grip when he led her away from the boat, away from the only source of light aside from the fading moon and stars.
Giving up because she couldn't overpower Bucky, super soldier or not, she folded her arms onto the charred piece of wood. Suzie dropped her head and sobbed, letting Bucky and the water take control while she floated in a haze of grief.
Richard didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve to go down with the boat, buried at the bottom of the sea, his family unable to visit his grave. He had hopes and dreams—a family—waiting for him at home. He had a girl to marry and a wedding for Suzie to attend as a bridesmaid. He had a whole life ready for him at home—a whole life he would never live because of her.
She had been the one to drag him into this mess and get him caught up in all the drama of her family life. Because of it, she had gotten him killed. It should've been a bullet from a Nazi while protecting a family of refugees instead of drowning in the middle of the North Sea. It should've been old age, surrounded by dozens of children and grandchildren. It should've been anything other than this.
Watching the wreckage in hopes Richard would appear, tears glistened in her eyes. The boat finally slipped beneath the waves as the fire still bubbled along the surface, barring them from entry. Turning away, she couldn't bear to look back anymore, to see the damage done—the damage Hydra caused.
Hydra had taken everything from her, everyone she had cared about. First Travis and Ma, then Steve and Bucky, and now her best friend. The damn ghost of Hydra would haunt her forever, stalking her until they drained every last drop from her.
One person couldn't take them down, and it seems, neither could an army. If Captain America couldn't stop Hydra, then Suzie had no chance of ever saving her brother from falling back into their clutches.
They had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Hydra would follow them wherever they went. Not even the protection of reaching Allied land would save them from the demons lurching in the shadows.
Sobbing, Suzie let the darkness sweep over her and consume her very soul. They couldn't win; they would never be able to win. Floating out here on a stupid hunk of wood only delayed the inevitable. She would meet her end at the hands of Hydra, just like Richard and everyone else.
Suzie cried, her shoulders shaking in tandem with the stammering sobs escaping her lips. Everything she had been holding together, had been shoving into the recesses of her mind, erupted. Travis, Ma, Steve, Richard, and everyone else she had once fought alongside all came rushing forward, trampling her underfoot. She couldn't save anyone. Even Bucky, who floated beside her, had died in a sense. Despite his best efforts, he didn't remember her at all, and she couldn't know if he ever would.
She cried for the soldiers who wouldn't make it home, their families' lives torn apart and altered forever. She cried for Charlie Graham, Luis Cortez, Clyde Fisher, and even Walter Lemay—their lives ended too early because of this horrible war. Hundreds of men in the 358th had died, buried overseas and unable to return home.
She cried for the people at Flossenbürg and those in concentration camps. The horrors humanity had wracked upon the earth would forever haunt those who survived—those who wanted to forget but couldn't out of fear of history repeating itself. Nobody should ever forget what had happened; millions wouldn't move on. The war would forever stain their memories in blood shed by soldiers and tears cried by the downtrodden.
She cried until she couldn't cry anymore and she resorted to dry, hacking sobs. Too exhausted to do anything other than stare into the murky water, she slumped over the wooden board. She didn't fight or react when Bucky steered them in some random direction. Propping her chin on the edge of the wood, she let her arms dangle over the edge and into the water, staring unseeing into the sea.
She couldn't see much past her feet, the water still too dark even as the sun started to peek above the horizon. The swathes of pink, orange, and gold painted across the blossoming sky did nothing to lighten the pit of darkness inside.
Richard would never see another sunrise again. She missed his stupid ramblings and unceasing desire to always be talking. Gone were the days when he talked about his beloved Helen and her beautiful poetry and what their wedding would look like.
Dimly, she wondered how she'd ever tell Helen what happened. A simple letter wouldn't suffice. She'd have to visit Richard's girl to explain everything, and even then, nothing could ever fill the hole in their hearts.
Would Helen collapse into a fit of sobs? Would she slam the door in Suzie's face, refusing to believe Richard's death? Would she stay silent the entire time, not showing any sign of grief until Suzie left? Would they hold a funeral to bury an empty casket while Richard's siblings cried around the barren grave? Would they even let Suzie attend the funeral? Probably not. Not after what she had done.
A voice in the back of her head said that Richard wouldn't blame her for his death, but she ignored it because Richard had acted rather foolish sometimes. He was too trusting—too kind—to blame other people for their obvious mistakes. He wouldn't have blamed her if she had left him to fend for himself when he had gotten shot in the stomach several months ago. He wouldn't have blamed her if he had gotten injured while trying to pull her to safety after her panic attack during her first firefight near the Merderet and Douve rivers in France. He wouldn't have blamed her for all the stupid decisions she had made while trying to save her brother from Hydra.
Too damn pure for a soldier, he did his duty not because he enjoyed it but because he wanted to protect his family—to stop the Nazis over in Europe before they could reach the United States.
A lot of good that did. Good men, too many good men, were dead trying to free the world. It didn't matter—never mattered—because evil would always win. Hydra would always win, in some way or another, either by ripping families apart or reaping the rewards from a world war.
Good men had died, Richard had died. And for what? A world run by Hydra instead of the Nazis? Countries barely upholding a fragile peace treaty, never treading too hard on each other's toes while also building a secret arsenal in case something snapped? Everyone living in constant fear of another world war? It didn't matter because war would always happen eventually and people would die.
Everyone died sooner or later, so why not speed up the process by sending men to slaughter each other? Let the lies told to families of their sons, husbands, and fathers dying heroically in battle be the way to remember the slain. She'd have to lie to Helen. Tell her that Richard had died a hero instead of the cold, hard truth: he had died while on the run from a shadow organization hellbent on recapturing his friend's amnesiac, super-soldier brother.
The pink and gold increased in brightness, shining upon the water and blinding her from staring at her reflection.
Settling her head onto her folded arms again, she closed her eyes and let her thoughts drift away. She couldn't feel her legs anymore, they had gone numb from floating in the frigid water. The bruise on her back burned with every breath, the muscles protesting from the movement whenever it pulled on the glass embedded into her skin. The blood on her face had washed away from the waves splashing onto her every so often, resoaking her clothes and chilling her to the bone.
"Tell me about Steve," Bucky said, the first sound other than the waves she had heard in hours, his voice barely penetrating the static in her head.
"What?" Suzie muttered, lifting her head from her arms only out of confusion.
"Steve," Bucky repeated, his eyes wide and startingly blue in the first rays of dawn. "What's he like?"
"Why's it even matter? He's dead." Suzie spat, and then she softened when he flinched at the last word. "What do you remember?"
"Blonde. Blue eyes." He paused. "Stubborn."
"Sounds about right." She would've snorted if she had the energy, but now she settled her chin on her arms to stare at her brother floating in front of her.
The cuts and bruises on his face had healed, leaving behind only the tiniest sign of ever existing. Color, except for a slight tinge of blue around his lips and dark bags under his eyes, had not returned to his face. With his lanky hair and the beginnings of an unkempt beard, he looked the same way he had when Suzie first found him in the barn. The clearness in his eyes differentiated now from his initial cloudy, drugged gaze still haunting her nightmares.
He looked so innocent like a puppy trying not to beg for a treat. Suzie relented.
"You've known Steve longer than I've been alive," Suzie said and watched Bucky perk up to soak in any tidbit of information. "He didn't have any siblings, but you two were practically brothers. Wherever one went, the other followed even when he couldn't physically keep up with you.
"He liked drawing. Could make a masterpiece from nothing but a pencil. He got sick all the time, so he had a lot of time to practice.
"He's one of the most stubborn people I know. Steve...he never backed down from a fight, even when he knew he couldn't win. I guess it's the thought that counts." She let out a humorless snort. "You hated it when he got into fights, but nothing could stop him. You always bailed him out when it got too much for him to handle, which was...," she gave a small laugh, "practically always. If something looked wrong, he wanted to make it right. That's probably why he crashed the...the..."
Suzie shook her head and scrubbed a hand across her eyes. "Why are you making me do this?"
"It's soothing."
That pissed her off. He knew nothing about their family and the pain she went through—the pain they went through. And here he was, listening like it had been nothing but a random story in a forgotten fantasy book. "'Soothing?' How the hell is this 'soothing?!'"
"Focus on your voice, instead of...," he gestured at the water around them, "this."
When Suzie didn't say anything and stared at her brother in disbelief, he ducked his head and looked away sheepishly.
"I'm sorry. I want to remember, but I can't...it hurts. Pieces, feelings. They're getting...better, but...thinking...it's too much." His eyes suddenly went wide and started to shine with tears as his voice trembled. "I don't wanna go back."
Something broke inside of her, all anger evaporating in an instant. "I will do everything in my power to not let that happen."
And she meant it. If she died trying to keep him safe, then so be it. Be like Steve, go down while fighting for what matters. She'd die knowing she'd tried, and shouldn't it be enough?
Reaching over the wood, Suzie found Bucky's hand and intertwined their fingers. He looked up at her, tears rolling down his pale, sunken cheeks.
"We're gonna be okay," Suzie said. She didn't really believe what she had just said, but Bucky gave a small smile and gently squeezed her hand.
"I'm sorry for...everything. You and Richard...be safe without me. I got you hurt...got...Richard hurt. I'm not worth—"
"Hey," Suzie snapped, cringing when he flinched. She used her other hand to bring his chin up to look him in the eyes. "Don't. Don't blame yourself. You're worth it. We knew the risks—Richard knew the risks." She swallowed a lump in her throat. "We don't leave family behind."
"I don't remember you," Bucky muttered, his gaze slipping to the side and she let him, but he still held her hand.
"I remember you," Suzie said. "And you're my big brother. There's no way in hell I'm leaving you behind. Hydra's gonna pay for what they did, but we're gonna get you to a doctor first. Imma tell the SSR about this; let them handle it while you recover. Then we're gonna go home."
"Home," Bucky repeated, his eyes closing. Then he shook his head. "I don't remember home."
Suzie blinked back the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. "It's okay. You don't have to. We'll figure it out. Together."
/\/\/\
They spent the rest of the morning adrift in the sea, letting the waves push them wherever they wanted. Bucky tried to steer them in some direction Suzie couldn't pinpoint, but they couldn't do much even when they took turns kicking their wooden board forward.
By some miracle, when the sun reached its zenith in the sky, Bucky finally spotted land. Suzie couldn't see it, but she trusted his enhanced senses even if she didn't trust his addled mind.
It turned out not to be a trick of Bucky's confused, dehydrated, and exhausted mind.
Suzie had never been more glad to sink her feet into the water and feel something pushing back. Finally able to touch the bottom and walk—hallelujah!—onto the beach, Suzie helped Bucky drag the chunk of wood onto shore before collapsing into the sand.
Digging her fingers into the wet sand, she spread out onto her stomach and pressed her forehead against the ground.
Bucky dropped heavily beside her, sinking onto his back and searching under the sand to find her hand. His fingers slipped between hers, and they lay still for a good thirty minutes, just soaking in the feel of solid ground beneath them.
In any other circumstance, she would've hated the sand poking her skin. Like nature's version of glitter, sand got everywhere and took forever to remove from clothing. Even then, small amounts would remain behind to annoy her. It clogged up drains, slipped between gaps in shoes, and clung to wet hair like glue.
Now, however, she relished in the feel of the sand scraping her skin and sticking to her soggy clothes because it meant she survived. She didn't drown at sea. She didn't die in the explosion. She and Bucky now had a chance to escape even if Richard never got to see the fruits of their labor.
Richard. God bless his poor soul. She shouldn't have dragged him into this mess, should've told him to walk away from her family drama. She should've kept to herself at basic training, not making any friends because everyone already knew but never talked about how people—friends—were going to die at war. Don't get too attached to the man standing beside you in the trenches because he might bleed out from a bullet wound, step on a landmine, or perish at sea in an explosion caused by Hydra.
She hated how love made one feel so broken inside. Friends, family, it all didn't matter because one moment they were at your side, and the next, they were gone forever, leaving nothing but their memory. Why even make friends in the first place if people were just going to die? All the happy moments, the fond memories, the laughter—it all ended in pain. Always.
So what's even the point? Living just to die? Loving just to grieve? Persevering just to have everything fall apart anyway?
Suzie pressed her forehead further into the sand, her shoulders shaking from the renewed sobs. Tears rolled down her cheeks and soaked into the ground, making her face sticky with the sand.
Beside her, Bucky's hand squeezed hers only for it to yank away moments later as she felt him jolt upright.
"Suzie...," Bucky said, his voice sounding worried enough for Suzie to lift her head to figure out what had startled him.
He sat ramrod straight, his head craning to look over his shoulder at the grassy ridge framing the edge of the beach. He cocked his head to the side as if to listen to something.
"What is it?" Suzie asked, her heartbeat picking up in tempo. The way he watched and listened in silence, observing something she couldn't understand, scared her.
He jumped to his feet and whirled around to face inland, his back pointed at Suzie. Pushing herself to stand, she came up to his left side but he sidestepped her, placing her on his right to push her behind him.
"Bucky, what's wrong?"
"We...leave."
"What?"
"Go!"
He turned around to push her in front of him, forcing her to stumble forward and start running. They ran parallel to the water, the tide lapping onto the sand to their right. The grassy ridge encircled the small beach, boxing them in from all three sides where the ridge directly met the water on the two far ends of the beach. One large half-circle, the two ran to the furthest end, away from where they had been lying.
"Soldat!" a voice called when the duo had almost made it to the bottom of the slope.
Bucky skidded to a halt and whipped around, causing Suzie to plow into him. He didn't move from the impact, only grabbing her arm and yanking her behind him.
"Pochemu ty bezhish'? Vam nechego boyat'sya."
The officer from the Hydra barn stood atop the ridge near where they had been lying in the sand moments earlier. He gracefully picked his way down the slope and approached them with his hands spread wide to show he came unarmed.
The soldiers appearing and surrounding them on top of the ridge made up for his lack of weaponry on his person. Guns pointed at them, blocking their path from all three sides. They had about an acre of sand to move around on, framed by a half circle of the grassy ridge overlooking the beach. The sea boxed them in on the other side, leaving them no cover from an attack and no way to escape unless they ran headlong into the soldiers.
"Stay back!" Bucky shouted. He spread his feet into the same defensive stance Suzie had seen him use in his boxing matches. He then pivoted to put the sea at their back, placing himself between Suzie and the Hydra soldiers.
"We mean you no harm," the officer said, switching to English. Out in the light of the noon sun, when he strode closer, Suzie could see a silver octopus pin on his black hat—Hydra's logo. He stopped a hundred feet away, his booted heels clicking when he stood straight with his shoulders set at parade rest.
"Stay back!" Bucky shouted again. His fingers curled around Suzie's wrist to maneuver her back behind him when she tried to peer around him to watch the officer's movements.
"If you come willingly, nothing will escalate and we will let your friend go," the officer said, gesturing at Suzie. The smug smirk on his lips said otherwise.
"No! Stay back!" Bucky growled. "I'm going home. Home!"
"Hydra is your new home, soldier. If only you will accept it, then you will find peace." The officer tilted his head to the side to mock an air of innocence as he clasped his hands behind his back. "Doctor Zola did not put all this effort into you just for you to run away before we can even begin."
"He said no, you Hydra bastard!" Suzie shouted, stepping around Bucky only for him to yank her back behind him.
The officer only smiled. "Foolish American, you have no idea what you have gotten yourself into." His smile turned into a frown and his eyes darkened under the shade cast by the brim of his hat. "You took something from us, and I intend to get it back."
Seeing red, images of Bucky's drugged eyes at the barn and Richard's terrified expression on the boat flashed through her mind. Although she knew full well the water had damaged it, Suzie whipped out her sidearm and aimed it at the officer. Even she, unenhanced, could hear the sound of twenty soldiers readying their weapons in case she shot their leader.
"No!" Suzie growled. "You took something from me!"
Knowing it wouldn't work, she pulled the trigger anyway. The gun clicked and then jammed once the bullet slid into the barrel, too damaged to function.
To his credit, the officer did not flinch. Instead, he raised his right hand and gestured at the soldiers behind him.
Bucky tackled her before the bullet could hit. It landed beside her in the sand with a dull thud as Bucky's weight crushed her against the ground.
Pinning her to the beach, he pried the gun from her hand and tossed it away.
"What are you doing?" Suzie hissed, struggling under him to no avail. He had always been stronger than her even without the serum.
"They'll kill you, not me."
"Still doesn't mean they won't hurt you."
"I'll live, you won't."
Despite his enhanced strength, she could feel his hot breath on the back of her neck wheezing out quicker than normal. His hand shook where his fingers circled her wrist after knocking the gun away.
He was terrified. And that pissed her off.
Bucky didn't get scared. He shouldn't get scared. What these people had done...they had turned her brave, protective, happy-go-lucky brother into a trembling shell of himself.
None of this should've happened. He shouldn't be missing half an arm, remembering next to nothing, and shaking so bad Suzie could feel it wherever his body pressed into hers to shield her from any harm. He should out here making snarky comments, smirking in the face of danger, and laughing about it later at a bar with a lady by his side and drink in his hand.
Something small and wet splashed on the back of her neck and she shivered. It could've been excess water leftover from their plunge into the sea but it felt too warm for North Sea water.
No, dammit, no.
He was so scared he was crying.
She'd seen him cry only three times in her entire life, and each time he had always tried to hide his tears. This blatant display of emotion, not even attempting to turn away or pretend he didn't want to curl up into a sobbing mess, shocked both of them so much that when she pushed herself to her feet, he didn't even try to stop her.
The soldiers had come closer while they had been on the ground, flanking the officer with their guns aimed at the ready.
Risking a glance at her brother, she saw another tear roll down his cheek before his face hardened into a glare.
The officer still looked smug. "Soldier..."
"No!" Bucky snarled, his hand curling into a fist. "My name is Bucky and I won't go back! I won't!"
Beside her, their bodies pressed into each other's side, she felt his fingers reach around her back to slide her bayonet knife from its sheath attached to her belt. In one smooth motion, he pushed her to the ground, hissed 'Stay down!', stood over her like a damned caped hero, and threw the knife at the soldier who had tried to shoot her.
The knife sunk into the man's throat and he gurgled as he tumbled to the ground, blood spewing from the wound and staining the grainy sand.
All hell broke loose.
Suzie flicked open her pocket knife she always kept tucked in her pants as the soldiers rushed at them. The men dropped their rifles at the command of the officer, resorting to only using close-combat weapons to not risk accidentally hitting Bucky with a stray bullet.
Bucky lunged at the first soldier who got too close to Suzie, giving her time to get to her feet and slash her blade at the nearest man. The man leaned away from the attack, leaving him open to a kick in the kneecap. The force of her sidekick hyperextended the knee, and the man, Soldier One, howled in pain and stumbled on one foot as he grabbed at it.
Another man, Soldier Two, took his place while a third man came up on her left side to pin her between them. The man on her left, Soldier Three, grabbed her arm and swept her legs out from under her, sending them both tumbling to the ground. As she fell, she brought up her knee into his groin and sunk her blade into his side.
Rolling on top of him, she brought up her knife again only to have Soldier Two grab her wrist, fist the back of her shirt, and yank her away. Startled, her knife slipped from her hand, landing out of reach where she hit the ground. Slamming bad shoulder first into the sand, she grunted and rotated onto her back, bringing her left hand to cup her injured shoulder.
Soldier Two was huge, almost as tall as Lemay but much, much meaner. He had a jagged scar crossing diagonally from the top of his forehead down to the bottom of his chin, leaving his right eye milky-white from blindness. He glowered down at her, the buttons of his uniform glittering in the sun.
Half blind, he still hit like a tank. The left hook sent stars dancing in front of her eyes before she could even get to her feet. Dazed, she dropped her head back onto the sand, blinking rapidly to clear her vision.
Soldier Two stepped above her and cemented his feet on either side of her shoulder. Reaching down, he grabbed the front of her shirt and lifted her high enough to wallop her on the side of her head.
Feeling really pissed off now, she let go of her shoulder to grab the knife from where it lay in the sand an arm's length away. Knife in hand, she wrapped her legs around his thick, right one. Using his leg as leverage, she pulled herself forward, reached around his foot, and stabbed through his boot and into his Achilles heel. Legs still locked in place, she gripped the handle with both hands and dragged the blade sideways to sever the tendon.
He yelled like a baby, apparently not so tough when it came to being hurt.
Allowing a small smile to tug at her lips, she let him go only to roll onto her feet and give a solid kick in the crotch and another in the head for good measure once he hit the ground. Lightheadedness from the sudden motion overtook her, and she almost fainted. Catching her balance, she blinked away the stars and flipped the knife over into a reverse grip, ready to stab anyone who came close
The other soldiers hesitated, apparently not expecting resistance from a knife-wielding lunatic. "Not going down easy" ran in the family because Bucky had taken out more soldiers than she had. Six out of the fifteen attacking him lay on the ground, rocking in pain from their wounds or completely lying still. Flies had already started to buzz around the first man Bucky had killed, the knife no longer in the man's throat but dripping red in Bucky's hand.
She watched him slice a soldier's arm and stumble on his feet when he tried to follow through with a left-handed punch, one of his classic boxing moves. Only this time, his left arm ended at the elbow and he couldn't quite reach the soldier to land a hit. She winced in sympathy when the force of the swing caused him to stagger and glance down at his arm, expecting to see something there. It left him open for a kick in the back of the knees by another soldier.
As he fell to his knees, Suzie yelled and charged only for two more soldiers to join Soldier Three to block her path.
Some part of her twinged in jealousy that she only got five soldiers while Bucky got fifteen, but the bite of a blade piercing her right shoulder reminded her she could barely handle the first two.
Freaking Hydra. Knives were her and Bucky's thing.
Soldier Four got a knife in his thigh and a broken tooth for his effort. She blocked Five's punch, redirecting his arm to brush harmlessly past her right ear and stepping forward to hook her leg behind his to sweep him to the ground.
Three whipped out a handgun, stupidly ignoring his officer's commands to leave firearms out of the close-ranged fight. Panic flooded Suzie's chest but then Agent Carter's voice sang out in her envy-inducing accent: "Don't be so tense. Loosen up and relax."
Flashes of her brief training with Carter rolled like a movie reel in her mind, and she sucked in a deep breath. Pushing all thoughts of her bleeding shoulder and bruised back away, she let her mind focus.
Suzie grabbed the side of the barrel with her left hand and pushed its aim away from her. Stepping to avoid the line of fire as she moved, she spun on her heel. Instead of hooking her foot behind the man's leg like Carter had shown, Suzie pressed her back into the man's front, dropped her right side low, and rolled him over her injured shoulder as she yanked the gun from his grasp.
Gun in her left hand and a knife in her right, she reached across her front to shoot the man in the chest and then the head. Satisfied that Soldier Three was dead, she switched the gun into her right hand and shot Soldier One, Two, and Four where they still moaned over their injuries before the gun jammed.
Tossing the gun away in annoyance, she twirled her knife over her fingers. A few soldiers peeled off away from Bucky to join Soldier Five from where he had wisely backed away when she had first brandished the sidearm. Glaring at them, she tightened her grip on her knife and steadied herself.
Stars still winked in the edges of her vision and her back protested whenever she moved. She could feel the wounds from the glass reopening, little rivers of blood soaking into her shirt. A few of the fingers on her right hand tingled, well on their way to becoming numb. The wound in her shoulder must've severed a nerve because she couldn't quite move her whole arm as well as she wanted.
"Suka," Soldier Five snarled.
"Right back atcha, bastard," Suzie snapped.
Widening her stance, she dropped low and then pounced, intending to push her way through the soldiers to reach Bucky. They faired a better chance if they worked together.
But there were too many soldiers for her to handle alone. Soldier Five dodged the swipe of her blade and socked her in the jaw. Soldier Six rammed a fist into her stomach while Seven snapped her left wrist.
Shouting in pain, she flipped the knife around in her right hand and sank it to the hilt in Seven's chest. Jumping to straddle his hips as he fell, she pushed the knife in deeper. It scraped against a rib when she yanked it out, spurting blood onto her clothes.
Five and Six pinned her arms to the side and hauled her off their dying comrade. Shoulder screaming before finally going completely numb down to her fingers, she kicked and thrashed. Six let go for Five to lock her head into a chokehold.
Six came up in front of her, grinning as Five's arm squeezed against her windpipe. Lashing out, she brought her leg up high enough to kick Six in the stomach and then again in the groin once he recovered from the first one. He stayed down after the second kick, leaving her alone in Five's headlock.
Unable to move either of her arms or feel the knife in her right hand, she headbutted him. He didn't budge from a possible broken nose, so out of options, she twisted her neck and bit his forearm hard enough to draw blood.
His grip faltered enough for Suzie to slip through and stagger away. Not bothering to stick around for Five and Six to recover, she wiped the blood from her mouth and dashed towards Bucky.
As she ran, she heard the bang of a gun going off and everything shuddered to a sudden halt.
/\/\/\
Bucky heard the gun discharge, assuming Suzie had reloaded.
But then a gap in the fighting gave him a chance to glance over his shoulder and he saw Suzie go stock still.
Everything immediately slowed down, his senses zeroing in to the scene before him as all background noise faded to a dull buzz.
The smell of gunpowder pierced the salty sea air, the barrel still raised in Lt-Gen Kozlov's grip from where he stood off to the side. An angry frown pulled the man's lips into a snarl, his eyes dark and focused on his target. As always, Kozlov's uniform had no blemishes, all neat and performative like a high-maintenance nobleman or a vain man high in the ranks of Hydra.
The Russian soldiers around Suzie all paused in their attack. Five lay dead at Suzie's feet, bullet wounds staining four of the men's uniforms while a gaping stab wound spurted from the other. A Russian sidearm sat in the sand where Suzie had flung it away—all of the other soldiers had left their sidearms untouched. Suzie's personal handgun still lay where Bucky had pried it from her hands, half-buried under sand kicked up during the scuffle.
The smell of gunpowder, salt, sweat, and blood stank so bad that Bucky retched and swallowed the mouthful of bile. Senses overwhelming, he staggered. It was too much. Blood drying on the dead soldiers. The smoke from a discharged bullet dissipating from the gun Kozlov had finally lowered. The fresh blood from...from...
Suzie's form—a light in the darkness waning by the second—came into focus as everyone else blurred into shapeless lumps.
Suzie's mouth dropped open in a gasp of shock, her breath exhaling in a quiet puff of air. Her knife slipped from her hand, dropping to the sand as her knees buckled.
In slow motion, she collapsed like a flower wilting under the imposing heat of the sun—a fire flickering out in the rain.
The soldiers backed away when she hit the ground. Clumps of sand tossed upwards from the impact settled back down to stick to her clothes, her face, her skin.
He heard himself yell—felt himself move, his soul floating above him untethered from reality. Bones crunched under his feet. Blood poured out from his blade. Any hit he absorbed and shoved away, clawing his way towards her until he dropped beside her, his knees digging into the sand.
Her eyes were still open—steel-blue and unseeing. Her mouth parted in a final gasp; her lips pink and her cheeks flushed rosy. Sand clung to her hair, a dusting of light brown among her dark waves. A pool of blood soaked into the ground beneath her head, painting a bloody halo on the shore.
Bucky dug a hand underneath her still-warm body and tugged her close. Her head fell back on a limp neck, face frozen but body pliable and relaxed. Gently, he threaded his fingers to cup the back of her head and guided it to a more natural position against his shoulder. The movement caused a rivelet of blood to roll from Suzie's forehead and into the dip of her eyesocket, then down her cheek—a single bloody tear.
"Suzie...," he whispered—begged—because this couldn't be...this couldn't...not after everything she had done for him.
She gave her life for him, and he had no memories of her.
She said that he was her older brother. What kind of older brother lets his little sister die, even one he barely knew?
Salty tears rolled down his cheeks, collected at the bottom of his chin, and broke off to splash into the gruesome bullet wound in the middle of Suzie's forehead. She looked so scared, stuck forever in an expression of anger and hatred of the people who had killed her—had killed Richard and now would wipe her brother from existence.
"I'm sorry...I'm sorry..."
Lifting her from the sand, he cradled her against his chest, letting her blood stain his clothes, his heart, his soul. He rocked her back and forth, his fingers brushing against the bullet wound nestled in the forest of her hair, his face pressed into the side of her neck unable to find a pulse.
"I wish...I wish I could've remembered. I'm so sorry..."
Hands descended upon him, yanking, pulling, pushing. He let them have him, only resisting when the hands tried to take his sister away.
He growled. He cursed. He bit.
In the end, none of it mattered. A sting of a needle piercing the thin skin on his neck ushered in the slide of a cool liquid burning through his veins. Darkness crept in and heaviness overtook his limbs, his vision going foggy like the lake around the memories in his mind.
The last thing he saw before he slipped unconscious was Suzie's fingers intertwined with his, his grip too strong for them to pry them apart.
She lay there unmoving, unseeing, with no heartbeat in her chest. Empty and desolate like the beach she lay upon. Lightless like a star winking out from an overpowering shadow. Wilted and dead like a flower trampled upon.
A Lily plucked too soon.
Russian Translation: "Pochemu ty bezhish'? Vam nechego boyat'sya." ("Why are you running? You have nothing to fear.")
I'm so sorry about this but I had this whole ending planned from the very beginning. I did warn you that it's not gonna be happy.
There is one more chapter (the epilogue) after this one. I hope to have it posted sometime soon but I've got some short stories (sequels, of sorts) to finish and edit before posting the epilogue.
Thank you for staying patient with me. These last two chapters have been a bit of a dozy to write and I've been lacking motivation to write for a while. I had to put my 14-year-old dog, Sable, down at the beginning of the month, and since then, I've been trying to distract myself in every other way than writing. I didn't want to write something sad after having gone through something like losing my dog, but I'm feeling a little better now. I know it was for the best because she was in a lot of pain, but I can't get the way her eyes looked out of my head. If dogs go to heaven, then she's up there playing with my other dog, Windsor. To anyone who has lost a pet, my heart goes out to you.