32.

London, United Kingdom

December 8th, 1943

Colonel Phillips sits in his office, filling out paperwork. It seems paperwork has taken over every ounce of his being. He never seems to do anything but fill out paperwork and deal with Captain Rogers and his new ragtag gang. He knows those kids are going to give him a headache, but they also may be the best damn team the allies have been praying for, and despite his grievances, he can't deny that Rogers is an army within himself.

An incoming radio call on the transponder pings suddenly, making the older man jump out of his thoughts and mechanical writing. He picks it up quickly, only having one person who could possibly be communicating through it out in the field.

"Captain Rogers, done so soon?" Phillips asks smugly.

"Negative, Colonel," Steve says, and his voice sounds pained and frustrated. "We've successfully taken the factory but we've sustained heavy injury. Two of us are down. We're going to try to get into the tree line and wait until it passes, but I can't make any promises. Hydra's backup is scheduled to arrive any time now and those of us left can't fight off an entire platoon, it just isn't possible. Requesting backup and a medical evacuation. We need a flight home, sir."

Phillips sucks in a deep breath, standing from his chair. "On it, Captain Rogers. ETA one hour."

"It may have to be quicker than that. Captain Rogers, out."

Phillips sets down the radio on the desk with a clunk, hurrying around his desk and out the door to his office into the fray of the underground bunker. He's got some work to do and some people to recruit into battle.

?, France

December 8th, 1943

The sound of gunfire is heavy in the air, permeating the otherwise silent forest. Bang bang bang goes Bucky's revolver as he fires shot after shot, taking down one enemy at a time. The butt of the rifle hits his shoulder over and over and grounds him to the present. There's also a loud whoosh as Steve throws the shield across the field in front of them, managing to hit the enemy in a certain way that the shield comes flying back to him like a loyal dog, ready to be thrown again.

Morita lays on the ground listening to these sounds as Falsworth leans over him, holding a wad of cloth to the wound. He got hit by a slug not too long ago, the bullet lodged only a few inches from his heart. The force and pain had sent him down immediately, hitting the ground with a painful thud that had sent agony through his back, shoulders and neck. Falsworth had dragged him out of the line of fire and to a safer spot behind the line that the Commandos have formed to ward off the approaching enemy.

Cap, Serge and Dugan are the only ones continuing to shoot, fighting the onslaught of bullets from the backup Hydra soldiers who recently found their way to the factory.

The Commandos had initially taken the factory easily, just like the first of its kind, though Dernier and Jones had suffered wounds from a bayonet and a bullet respectively. Steve had radioed base from inside the confines of the factory to be picked up again immediately, hoping Stark would make it back with the plane in time. They'd attempted to make their way from the factory to hide in the surrounding tree line and wait for the plane, planning on bringing the factory down behind them. However, the second wave of Hydra soldiers had arrived before they could get to safety, spotting Dugan as he attempted to place the explosive on the outside of the building. They'd begun shooting right away, the Commandos using nearby tanks and dumped crates as cover as they shot right back.

Steve looks up to the sky, frustrated at seeing no sign of backup yet.

"So much for this being easy," Dugan tells him, smiling at him from over the top of his rifle resting on the edge of the tank.

"Yeah, well, it is Hydra," Steve counters.

He hides behind the shield, shooting over the top of it and taking down one goon after another, though the enemy crowd never seems to get any smaller. Beside him, Bucky never misses a shot, each of his bullets expertly taking down the Hydra goons, creating a large pile of them on the ground.

Steve can hear Morita groaning on the ground behind them, as well as Dernier's swearing in French. He turns to check on them. Dernier is sitting up against a tank, holding a rag to a stab wound on his shoulder, Jones beside him trying to pluck a rogue bullet from his calf. Falsworth is pressing a cloth rag tightly to Morita's chest. Morita looks out of it, his eyelashes fluttering like a drunks'. Steve sighs. He should have known Isabel would have been right, that their only medic would be wounded, and they wouldn't have backup. If you asked him, he'd say her words jinxed them.

Steve turns back to the fight just as a Hydra goon appears right in front of him and jumps up powerfully, scaling the top of the shield and knocking Steve in the face with his knee. Steve and the goon go down, flailing in the mud. He may have gotten the drop on Steve, but Steve's much stronger and faster. The serum wasn't for nothing, after all. Steve grabs the soldier by his collar and easily throws him back over the tank, right into the oncoming slaughter of his own side's bullets. The bullets tear him up as he hits the ground, still.

Steve shakes it off, regaining his position on the line between Bucky and Dugan. He continues to shoot, his pistol getting dangerously close to running out of ammo.

Suddenly, they hear the far-off buzz of a plane, and Steve peeks behind him to see the familiar vehicle making a landing in a nearby field a few hundred yards through the trees. He hopes Phillips remembered to send artillery backup as well as medical evacuation. They wait a while longer, holding the line, before they hear the rustle of leaves and footsteps approaching from behind. Several allied soldiers, including Colonel Phillips himself, burst into the field. They take place beside the Commandos and begin their own onslaught, equipped with larger machine guns and even a grenade launcher. The looming Hydra soldiers eventually get smaller, though each man seems to be replaced by another in an identical uniform. It's like they're multiplying on the spot, and it's worrying that they won't get through them all.

Bucky's gun clicks, indicating that it's out of ammo. He ducks down quickly, his back to the tank, and pulls another magazine from his pants' pocket, loading it up. He looks up quickly, watching as two female nurses, arms full of a medical kit and supplies, run low along the ground across the tree line toward the fallen Commandos. One veers off to Jones and Dernier sitting against the tank. The other approaches Morita, who lies on the dirty ground with Falsworth over him, his hands covered in bright red blood. Bucky looks back down to his gun, clicking the final mechanism into place, before doing a double-take at how familiar the woman is.

"Isabel?" Bucky asks.

He wonders if his eyes are deceiving him, but they definitely aren't. Isabel all but falls to the ground beside Morita, who is instructing Monty as best he can whilst sweating and shaking from the pain, nearly dropping out of consciousness. Isabel relieves Falsworth of his duty as temporary medic and sends him back into the fight. The Brit looks baffled and outraged and questions her appearance, but she waves him away, focusing on Morita's wound. Monty eventually obeys, joining the line beside Bucky, who takes the opportunity to slip his way down the line closer to her.

"Isabel? What the hell do you think you're doing out in a war zone?" Bucky yells over the noise, his attention half on the fight and half on his sister behind him.

"Helping," Isabel replies, her hands already red with Morita's flowing lifeblood. "Phillips sent me."

At that moment, Steve hears the sound of her voice over the lowering noise of battle and turns. He spots Isabel, his eyes widening, and he very nearly drops the shield. She doesn't make eye contact, busy dealing with the wound. Steve tears his eyes away just in time to slam the shield into an agent that got a little too close, throwing the shield to take out the last few agents still standing, their bodies falling to the ground in a heap. He catches the shield as it comes back to him, having gotten used to its physics.

The battlefield falls relatively silent, Phillips and the others taking out a few more rogue agents that appear and rustle in the trees. It's always eerie, the calm after the battle. It never feels quite right.

"Get the wounded onto the plane. Everyone else, climb on board ready for immediate departure," Steve instructs the backup.

Steve stays in place to scan the woods for any agents that may have broken formation to attack from another angle. Bucky stays beside him, rifle raised to the tree line. The two friends slowly work their way out into the open field, stepping over the piles of mutilated corpses, scanning for any survivors.

A few men come to take Morita, but Isabel stops them. "No, not yet. He's not stable enough to move him. Evacuate everyone else first and then come back."

The men nod and move off, evacuating the other Commandos, the wounded and the backup onto the plane a few hundred meters through the trees where Howard waits with the engine running, ready to take off whenever everyone is safely onboard.

That leaves Isabel and Morita practically alone on the field, only Steve and Bucky a few hundred yards away. Isabel hunches over Jim, quickly working to dig the bullet out in case it dislodges and moves when he's carried, hurriedly sewing the wound shut to stench the bleeding. There's quite a bit of internal damage that she's hurrying to fix, or at least stabilise, so that they can get Morita out of their and to safety, where he may require surgery. Her hands only shake a little, her nimble fingers threading the silk thread between the broken, bloody skin. It's a mess of blood and muscle, a horrible sight, but she manages to hide it beneath the stitches, pulling it all back together again.

Morita breaks off his pained moans to mumble something, his voice no more than a whisper.

"What?" Isabel whispers back. "Jim, I need to concen–"

"Watch out," he tries again, louder and clearer this time, managing to raise his hand to point behind Isabel.

She turns quickly, finding a lone Hydra agent advancing on them, a bayonet raised in the tight grip of his hand. His helmet is missing and his face is creased into an evil snarl, his eyes locked on them. Isabel feels a surge run through her entire being, one she very rarely experienced before now. Usually, it was reserved for her family, and she recognises it immediately – protectiveness. A part of the Barnes family lineage, they've all got it, and right now she's immensely protective because this lone soldier with only a bayonet is trying to hurt a member of her newfound family and that, she just won't settle for.

Isabel moves like lightning, not really thinking as she snatches Morita's forgotten rifle from the ground beside him. She raises it to her eye and points it at the soldier, praying the gun is loaded and the safety is off – she has no idea how to do any of those things. She pulls the trigger, the force of the gun sending her shoulder jolting back painfully and the bullet lodging in the soldier's chest, most likely puncturing his lung by the sound he makes. Isabel watches wide eyed and shocked as the German gasps for strangled breath, clutching his chest, and stumbles backward.

He doesn't fall though, using the momentum to propel himself forward again toward them, bayonet prepared to hit her. He gets close enough that she feels the rush of the air as he swings toward her face but misses. She shoots again, ignoring the pain in her shoulder, this time hitting the enemy soldier right in his throat. He gurgles and spits up a mouthful of black blood that coats her and Morita, tar in his veins. Then he falls forward and hits the ground with a thud only a few inches from them. He continues to gasp for laboured bloody breath and Isabel just stares at him, mouth open in utter shock as the adrenaline quickly wears off. She drops the rifle from her hands, landing with a soft thud in the grass.

Slowly, she turns back to Morita, finding him now unconscious. "Jim?" She asks in a voice just shy of hysterical, quickly feeling his throat for a pulse. She finds one, slow but steady, and immediately breathes a sigh of relief.

Out of the corner of her eye Isabel sees two pairs of legs, and then Steve's bending down over Morita. He leaves the shield on the ground, lifting Morita easily in his arms and running with him toward the plane, managing to keep his limp body somewhat steady. Isabel feels someone grab her from behind and Bucky hauls her to her feet, holding Steve's shield to block any attack from their left and aiming his gun to the right, scouring the woods as he pushes Isabel along. Isabel forces her legs to move, to carry her back to the waiting plane. They board the plane second to last, only waiting a few seconds more for Dugan to return, having run back to the factory to detonate the explosives as per Dernier's instruction.

The second Bucky lets go of her, Isabel goes straight back to Morita, continuing to clean his wound and fix her messy workmanship while Steve closes the cabin door. The plane speeds off down the field, only just clearing the tree canopy on its ascent.

After a long while of fiddling and stitching and cleaning, Isabel finally stabilises Morita enough that she can leave him for a while before returning to the wound. She tells Falsworth to keep an eye on him and hold pressure to the wound to stench the bleeding while she helps the other nurse with Jones' bullet wound in his calf, which Nurse Caroline has already managed to dislodge and has begun sewing on the plane.

Jones has lost a lot more blood than even Morita, Caroline's shaking hands butchering the sewing as she fought to stay calm under the conditions of a barrage. They finally get him cleaned up, giving him a dose of morphine. Jones settles back against the metal wall of the plane, somehow falling into a fitful doze.

They finish with Dernier, cleaning the bayonet slash across his shoulder. It looks worse to the eye than it is. It isn't deep enough to warrant stitches, only needing to be wrapped with gauze, but its deep enough to be incredible painful, causing the Frenchman to wince with every movement of his arms and upper body.

"Take a break, Nurses. You've done well," Phillips eventually instructs when it's clear they've done all they can. Caroline nods, taking a seat near Morita's silent form to keep an eye on his vitals.

Isabel runs her dirty hands through her hair, the blood now dried, visibly shaken by being resorted to killing. "I'm fine," she says, wiping the sweat from her brow and accidentally leaving a trail of dried, speckled blood across her pale skin.

No one argues with her, knowing this is her way of distracting herself. She moves back to Morita and works a while longer on him, managing to stench the bleeding. He won't need further surgery, she hopes. Then, she attends to Falsworth, patching up a small cut on his arm, and then to Dugan, who's ankle gave a slight twinge when he tripped on a branch rushing back to the plane. She busies herself with small injuries, avoiding making eye contact with Steve or Bucky because she knows she's about the get an earful for being out in the field. Phillips distracts Steve with the debrief then and there while they fly back to London, taking the other soldier's statements as well.

They arrive back at the London airfield within two hours, Stark flying slower to conserve fuel, and multiple trucks await at the edge of the airfield to bring them back to the base's infirmary. They all climb aboard into the bay of the trucks, the first man in holding the canvas flap open for the others. Steve helps load the injured into the trucks and then gets in himself. He turns and wordlessly offers a hand to Isabel. She takes it and he hauls her into the truck bed. His hands linger on her for a moment as though he may pull her into a hug, but he seems to decide against it, leading her further into the truck so he can help others inside. It doesn't escape Steve's notice how much her hand shakes in his.

Isabel dutifully sits down by Morita's head, keeping an eye on his vitals, still avoiding eye contact no matter how much Steve and the others try to get it. As she sits, Mortia's eyes flicker open, his first signs of consciousness since she shot the Hydra soldier to save them. He looks around, noting that they are in a truck, and brings a hand up to the wound, finding it stitched shut and bandaged. Then, he locks eyes with Isabel above him.

"You saved my life," he slurs, eyes already fluttering shut again.

"That's what we do," Isabel whispers back, but it falls on deaf ears.

The ride back to base doesn't take long and it's almost silent. The injured men lie quietly on the floor of the truck or sit carefully on their seats, holding their wounds with pained expressions. The others contemplate the previous battle, how quickly it went from bad to worse.

They arrive at the base and the injured are taken downstairs to the infirmary. Isabel and Caroline jump out of the truck immediately before anyone can offer to help them and follow the SSR agents who have come up from underground to carry the injured downstairs. They get into the elevator to make their way to the infirmary, emerging in the basement and manoeuvre through the busy halls.

Isabel stops when she hears pounding footsteps behind her, turning to see Steve approaching her, looking angry. He must have taken the stairs to catch her. Isabel nods for Caroline to meet her there, turning to face Steve. He stops running to catch up and instead charges toward her like some angry bull. Isabel feels a spike of fear jolt through her, which is ridiculous because she's never been scared of Steve before in her entire life and she knows he'd never, ever hurt her. But she supposes his new size can be intimidating. She stands her ground, even when he gets close enough to tower over her.

"Isabel," Steve says when he gets close enough, his voice scarily level.

"Steve?"

"What were you thinking, Isabel?" Steve growls.

"Thinking about what?" She asks.

"Coming out into enemy territory like that! What were you thinking?" Steve bellows with frustration, his deep voice booming through the halls.

Isabel assumes the only reason why Bucky isn't here is because he got preoccupied by doing something, or Steve stormed off to find her before Bucky could follow along.

"I wasn't thinking because those things I do out there, I don't have to think about them. It all comes naturally to me. Helping people, fixing wounds, saving lives - it's what I'm good at so it's what I'm going to do!" She growls back, disappointed that she's being lectured for her efforts and not praised.

"You could have been killed out there!" Steve tells her loudly, his voice risen, both angry and beside himself with fear.

"But I wasn't," Isabel retorts angrily. "I'm still here, aren't I?"

"You have no idea, no idea, what it's like out there. How dangerous it is!"

Isabel frowns harder and puts her hands on her hips, staring down Captain America. A few agents passing in the hallways slow to watch them, confused and amused by the tiny woman confronting the massive blonde Captain.

"First of all, Steve, you need to calm down. I won't tolerate being spoken to in this manner. I am not a child," Isabel tells him, poking him hard in the chest for good measure. She doubts he can even feel it.

"I-I–"

"Second of all, I don't need to see the war for myself to know what it's like. I have a pretty swell imagination and I've heard stories, read books and seen films. I am a nurse, I know how these things work. I have seen death and I'm not afraid to be surrounded by it," Isabel continues.

Steve doesn't reply, looking a little terrified himself of Isabel's outburst.

"Third, I don't need a lecture from you. You are the last person who should be lecturing me on not thinking. You never think before you act, you just jump right in. So, what? It's okay for you to be reckless, but not me? It's okay for you to do your part to help, but I have to sit here alone? I knew the risks and I was willing to take them to help."

Steve seems to calm down a lot, visibly deflating, knowing he's been caught out. "But why would you volunteer to come like that?" Steve asks, exasperated.

"Actually, I sent her," a male voice says from behind Steve. Steve turns angrily toward Colonel Phillips, who stands in the hallway with his arms crossed, his eyebrow raised. "She's a medic, a qualified nurse, and she was one of the only ones on site available to go save your asses. She was following orders, Captain Rogers, just as you do."

"She doesn't take orders from you, she isn't in the Army," Steve says roughly.

"That can be easily changed, so watch your tone," Phillips warns, and Steve immediately backtracks. "You're right, she didn't have to follow orders, but she did. I'd say it was more to save you than to listen to me. She did well, Rogers. Admit it."

Steve hangs his head, nodding. "Yes, she did."

"She saved Morita and Jones, and herself. And, she's quite a good shot. Seems to take after Sergeant Barnes in that department." Phillips walks a little closer to Steve. "Don't be so hard on her. She's a smart kid," Phillips whispers to Steve, patting him on the shoulder.

With that, Phillips smiles at Isabel and squeezes past them down the corridor. Isabel watches him go, wishing he'd come back so she wasn't alone with angry Steve. She turns and glances at Steve apologetically before taking off down the corridor too. She leaves Steve in the hallway, and he doesn't even try to chase her, just standing there looking defeated. Isabel walks toward the infirmary, knowing her job isn't quite over yet for the day. Steve and his anger can wait.

Peggy enters the infirmary, confronted with three drawn curtain partitions around three of the beds, each containing Morita, Dernier and Jones. The other beds are empty. On the other side of the infirmary, standing at the sink is Isabel, washing and disinfecting the medical equipment used on the patients.

Peggy had come in periodically to check on Isabel since the Commandos returned to base, ensuring that her friend was not overworking herself or at risk of a breakdown at what she's seen. Going out into the field like that, with no preparation whatsoever, would have to take a toll on a person. Even though Isabel would have experienced most injuries working at the hospital, she's never experienced battle, or working on a wound under such circumstances.

"Where is Nurse Caroline?" Peggy asks by way of greeting, not seeing the other nurse anywhere.

Isabel jumps at her voice, bubbles and water flying with her hands. She tries to hide it, but it doesn't escape the agent's notice. "She went home to rest," Isabel answers.

"And you didn't think to rest yourself?" Peggy asks.

"We can't both leave at once," Isabel argues. "If something were to happen, one of us has to be here. Especially for Morita, he isn't in a good shape as of yet. I sent Caroline home and she promised to return within twelve hours to relieve me."

Peggy doesn't seem satisfied by this answer, but she can see the logic behind the reasoning, so she lets it slide. "Do you need any help?" Peggy asks.

"That isn't your job, Peg–"

"Nonsense," Peggy says.

She rolls up her sleeves on her blouse and picks up a cloth, drying off the utensils for Isabel. She places them carefully to the side on a sheet of paper towel so as to not dirty them again. Isabel finishes washing up and then goes to Peggy's other side, carrying to medical equipment back to its home in the trolley against the wall and sorting it into the proper drawer.

"I think I understand a little more of what you meant, Peggy," Isabel mutters to her friend, slowly putting the scalpels away, careful not to cut herself.

"About what, love?" Peggy asks, curiosity peaked.

"In the car in Brooklyn, when you said that you knew a little of what it was like to have ever door shut in your face."

Peggy remembers the conversation well. It had been her first time ever meeting the woman that Steve had talked about near-constantly at basic training. She, of course, had spent a lot of time with Steve, eating meals with him and speaking with him whenever they crossed paths. She hadn't wanted to show favouritism to one candidate, but Steve had been the only soldier at the camp to treat her as the successful woman she was and not a doll to chase after. Steve had held a respect for her that was hard to find, and in return, she had respected him just as much, if not more. It had been clear, even then when Steve was weak and sickly, that he had the making of greatness, as well as a burning protectiveness and respect for Isabel as well.

"When you said that, I just couldn't think of how a woman like you would have trouble becoming successful in what you set your mind to. You seem so confident and successful and respected. I didn't see the barriers you would have had to overcome because you didn't let those barriers define you as a person. I know I didn't know you at all then, but I just assumed that you would have succeeded at anything you attempted and knocked out anyone who stood in your way," Isabel continues.

Peggy laughs at that. "You weren't too far off. I gave Gilmore Hodge a horrible black eye at his basic training. But you're correct, I had to overcome a lot of hurdles to get where I am. I had to work hard for what I wanted, and I still have to continue to work hard to remain in my position. It isn't easy for a woman to manoeuvre her way through a man's world."

"No, it isn't," Isabel says thoughtfully.

"I suppose you bring this up because you are experiencing a similar situation?" Agent Carter wonders.

"Yes," Isabel says, turning to face her friend. "The night that Steve recruited the Commandos, I asked to join as a second medic. Warned him that if something happened to Morita, they would be in trouble. He and Bucky immediately turned me away and I let the idea go, resigned to the fact that I wouldn't be going on missions alongside then. But then what I predicted came true. I came out and helped and I saved Morita's life, and then my own. I know that I don't do it for praise, but… Steve, he got angry at me about it. Tried to lecture me in the hall."

"Yes, Phillips told me about that," Peggy says. "He also told me that you very quickly put Steve in his place and argued for your right to be there. I must say, I'm very proud of you for that."

"Thank you," Isabel says quietly. "I just… If I were a man, it wouldn't have even been a question."

Peggy sighs, making Isabel trail off. "Isabel, love, it isn't because you're a woman. You and I, our situations are different. I was looked down on because of my gender. I worked hard and attempted to change the way I'm viewed. It's worked, somehow, and now many people, including Colonel Phillips and Howard Stark, are open to the idea of working with women, and that women are just as capable as men. That isn't your problem. Phillips, Stark, the Commandos, they're all willing and grateful to work with you. The reason why you aren't considered is because Steve and your brother love you too much to let something happen to you."

Isabel is quiet at that, seemingly having a lightbulb moment. "Oh," she says quietly. "I guess that makes sense."

"Of course, it does," Peggy laughs. "Look, Steve and Bucky are blinded by their connection to you. You're their family. They don't want anything to happen to you. They may be making themselves out to seem like right drools, but they really do mean well."

"I know," Isabel sighs. "It just hurts, you know?"

"Yes, it does," Peggy agrees. "I wasn't supposed to say anything with you, but I'm currently in talks with Colonel Phillips and the rest of the Commandos. Phillips wants to make some… changes to the Howling Commandos team. He actually wants to see you now, or whenever you're free. Just act like you don't know anything, okay?"

Isabel's face lights up like a Christmas tree at that. "I will, I promise!" Isabel cheers. "I'll do a round of vitals and then I'll go straight there. Oh, Peggy, thank you so much."

"Don't thank me," Peggy laughs, accepting Isabel's hug. "It was actually Phillips' idea."

Isabel goes to Phillips' office once she's done a round of vitals, checking mainly on Morita's sleeping form. Agent Carter has been acting as his eyes, so Colonel Phillips knows that Isabel has hardly left the infirmary since they arrived back at the base, tending to the Commandos wounds, particularly Morita, who has quite a long path toward healing ahead of him. She looks tired, her hair pulled back sloppily into a ponytail, black bags under her eyes.

"You really should rest," Phillips tells her, eyeing her appearance.

"I'm fine, Colonel Phillips. I have a job to do, and I couldn't allow myself to rest until it was completed. Nurse Caroline will be returning in a few hours to relieve me, anyway."

"Fair enough," Chester says.

He doesn't say much else, instead just looking at Isabel. She grows uncomfortable under his critical eye. She slides a little further down in the visitor's chair, shrunken in on herself.

"Was there another reason why you called me in, sir?" Isabel asks, feigning innocence and naivety.

"Yes," he finally says, leaning forward so that his elbows lean on the dark wood of the desk. "I'm worried, Nurse Barnes, that the events of two days ago may repeat," Phillips tells Isabel, clasping his hands in thought.

"You mean how the Howling Commandos only medic suffered a possibly fatal injury in the field?"

"Yes. What good is a medic to a team if he's injured and no one else knows how to help, or no one else has the time to?"

"Not very good," Isabel agrees. "Sir, what are you suggesting?"

"You do good work, Barnes. Your work in the infirmary here and your in-depth monitoring of Captain Rogers' transformation has shown you are quite capable in your profession. Howard Stark also speaks rather highly of your skill and intelligence. You handled yourself well in your brief fifteen minutes of fame in the field, though you could learn how to wield a firearm a little better."

"Sir?" Isabel pushes, waiting for Phillips to make his point.

"I want you in the Howling Commandos as a second medic. If anything happens to Private Morita again, they're in trouble. They won't always have a medical evac so close by or won't always be in an accessible location. I'm confident you'll be able to transition into his position as medic when necessary," Phillips says, monitoring Isabel's reaction.

She stammers a while, her mouth opening and closing. "Sir, I've already brought the idea up to Captain Rogers, back when he was first recruiting his team. He said no. While I'm all for the idea, I truly don't think he would have changed his mind to allow me onto the team. Or Sergeant Barnes, for that matter. You heard the outburst in the hallway the other day, and that was just for being on the medical evacuation team. How would they react if I joined them in invading the most heavily fortified areas of Europe?"

"Yes, you're right. Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes are the only two I haven't gotten around to speaking to yet," Phillips says thoughtfully.

"Wait, what? You spoke to the others?"

"Yes, everyone was in favour of the proposition, actually. They all seem quite fond of you," Phillips says with an uncharacteristic smile. "Morita, especially, since you shot that Hydra agent to save his life and yours."

Isabel shivers and Phillips chooses to ignore it. "You'll never convince Steve and Bucky. If I can't, you don't have a chance," Isabel bets. "I'd bet my bottom dollar."

"You better get ready to pay up then, Barnes. I never lose a bet," Phillips smirks, leaning back smugly in his chair.

Bucky storms down the corridor, Steve in tow. He makes his way through the mainly-deserted, dimly-lit corridors and barges into Colonel Phillips' office without knocking. He knows he's taking a chance behaving like this, but he hasn't been left much of a choice. He relents though, that Steve can do most of the talking considering Steve outranks him.

The Colonel looks up from his papers, not even surprised to see the Captain and his Sergeant before him. "Ah, Captain, Sergeant. I was expecting a visit from you," he says. "Shut the door, sit down."

They do as they're told, Bucky sitting angrily in the chair with a huff.

"Who told you?" Phillips asks knowingly.

"The Commandos. They were talking about it in the pub," Bucky answers.

"What are you doing, recruiting Isabel to the team behind my back?" Steve growls.

Phillips looks at Steve with an indeterminable expression, almost one of boredom. "It's my team, Rogers. They're under US Army rule. I can recruit whoever I want, whenever I want. And I can discharge others as I please. You go where I send you and you come back when I tell you."

Steve opens his mouth to argue. "Col–"

"I let you find your own damn ragtag gang, Rogers. But now the decisions are up to me," Phillips growls. "I can't have a repeat of your last mission. Morita goes down, gets hit, and all of you are toast. We just can't risk losing any of you for such matters. You really are the best team the Army's got. Having a second medic is just a precaution."

"I understand that, Colonel Phillips, but my sister can't fight in a warzone," Bucky argues. "That isn't what she was made for. She's a nurse. She isn't meant to harm, she's meant to heal."

"She isn't fighting, Barnes. She is helping purely as a medic. One of you gets injured, she fixes you up. I don't expect her to do any more shooting than you expect her to, not unless she absolutely has to. You're right. She hasn't been trained in combat. She has no weapons or tactics training. But she does have extensive medical training, much more so than Morita. She'll be a valuable asset to your team."

"This isn't fair on her to be in that situation. What if she has to kill again or gets injured?" Steve tries.

"Not fair on her, or not fair on you? She told me she wanted to join your team from the beginning, but you turned her down. If you ask me, the only one not being fair is you." Steve is quiet, glaring at Phillips. "Is it because she's a woman? Because if either of you have something against women fighting, let's stick you in the ring with Agent Carter. I'm sure she will have no qualms about showing you her right hook."

"Neither of us have any problem with women fighting the war, Colonel Phillips. I'm the last person to ever discriminate that way. I grew up dealing with that sort of behaviour from other people, and I'm not about to thrust it onto someone else. Besides, half of the Commandos are mixed raced as well. We are not racists or sexists," Steve replies evenly.

"It isn't that she's a girl, it's that she's family. She's my sister, and she's Steve's…" Bucky trails off. "Anyway, she's too close to home. If she got injured, it would be different to if the other men got injured."

"I understand that, Sergeant Barnes, I really do," Phillips reassures. "But she's an adult. She knows what she wants just as much as you do. She's supported both of you and followed both of you here. You were the ones who exposed her. She's gotten a taste of it now of what it means to truly help, and she wants more. She may be doing valuable work here every day with Stark, but she isn't fulfilled. She could be doing more, could be doing both. Tell me, Captain, where you fulfilled doing the USO Tour?"

"No, but–"

"But you were still helping, still contributing to the war effort," Phillips barges on, cutting off Steve's protest. "Just like you were unfulfilled in the USO, Nurse Barnes is unfulfilled here. She's miserable and lonely being stuck at the base, and Carter can't keep her company all the time. We gave you a chance, Rogers. Why are you denying Miss Barnes the same chance?"

Bucky sighs loudly. "We aren't denying her anything, we're trying to save her life."

"You aren't saving anything. Instead, you both are going to push her away. Do you really want that?" Phillips pushes.

Neither man says anything, apparently giving in to the fact that Isabel will be joining their missions.

"Here, I'll make you a deal," Phillips finally says after a moments consideration. "Agent Carter will assist on any mission she is able to. Isabel doesn't enter the complex until there is an emergency and she is required as medic, in which case she will be escorted inside by Agent Carter or by yourselves. She can stay well away from the firefight and she can be ready with a radio and weapon at all times. Most times she probably won't even see action."

Steve and Bucky take a moment to communicate with only their eyes and eyebrows, a shrug here and there. If this is the way it's going to go, at least they can dictate to some extent when Isabel is in a position of danger.

"Agreed," Steve eventually says, though his voice lacks confidence, and Bucky can see from his eyes that he's absolutely beside himself, too.

Bucky knows how it feels, to want to keep someone out of the fight so badly only to have someone else give them a chance. To watch the person as they get involved, to see them experience the horrors he'd wanted to shield them from. Bucky sighs, running a hand down his face.

"I'm glad you agreed, because the arrangement has already been settled between myself, Agent Carter, Miss Barnes and the rest of the Howling Commandos. You didn't exactly have a choice."

Steve's jaw drops open. "Wha– You talked to everyone–"

Phillips waves them away, halting another one of Steve's arguments. "Now get out of my office, and leave the poor girl alone," Phillips demands, picking up his telephone to make a call. "I don't want to hear another word of protest from either of you."

Steve and Bucky share a look before resigning and stepping outside, closing the door behind them and cutting off Phillip's voice talking into the phone.

"We still have time to talk her out of it before the next mission," Bucky reassures.

Steve doesn't seem put at ease in the slightest.