55.
London, United Kingdom
November 11th, 1944
In the weeks following the raid of the Bavarian Hydra castle, the Howling Commandos spend most of their days recovering from their injuries, particularly Isabel and Steve, who once again took the brunt of the violence. Steve has a number of bullet wounds that the nurses patch up, the wounds very near healed by the time they reach the base again. Isabel takes a little longer, the bruises from the violent treatment by Madame Hydra taking a number of weeks to fully dissolve. They start a vicious blue-black before slowly turning yellow and fading.
Isabel wakes up routinely during the night in a cold sweat, a scream on the end of her tongue. She always forces her hand over her mouth against the noise, eyes wide and darting around, before she realises where she is, that she's safe in the SSR base in London and not within the confines of a Hydra base. The first few times she catches herself and allows herself a few moments to regulate her breathing before looking over at Peggy still sleeping soundly beside her. Isabel silently lies back down again and stays still, staring up at the dark ceiling until the light begins to flow in through the curtains and she can get up to begin the next day. The black bags beneath her eyes grow a little darker with every passing night, and quickly Steve notices.
They're in the Stork Club sitting in a corner booth when Steve asks her, quietly so as to not draw attention. She's looking down at the whiskey in her hands, barely aware of what's happening around her despite her usual love for music and dancing. He pries the whiskey from her hands and puts it down on the table, tilting her chin up to look at him.
"Are you sleeping, Belle?" He asks her quietly, his baby blues worriedly boring into her own.
"I'm fine," she promises, giving him a forced smile. "I just feel a little under the weather."
"Are you sure?" The blonde presses, looking unsure.
"Of course, honey. I'm fine. A little under the weather, maybe, but it's been a busy few months." She leans forward and kisses Steve on the end of his nose. "You don't need to worry about me, I promise."
"I will anyway," Steve says with a cheeky smile, catching her lips. "Because I love you."
Isabel's lie falls through less than two weeks later. She awakens with a jolt, flying up in her bed, the sheets pulled up protectively around his chin. And she finds herself mere inches from Peggy's worried face.
"Isabel?" Peggy says quietly, scooting away from Isabel on the bed to give her space.
"Peg?" Isabel says groggily, looking around and holding her forehead as though she were sporting a migraine. "What are you doin'?"
"You were having a nightmare," Peggy says softly, reaching forward to put a comforting hand on Isabel's shoulder. "You were tossing and turning and crying out in your sleep. It woke me up."
"I'm sorry," Isabel says immediately, eyes widening and cheeks reddening in embarrassment. "I didn't mean to wake you. I've been trying to be quiet a–"
"This isn't the first time?" Peggy interrupts, eyes darkening slightly as she frowns at her friend.
"Uh, no," Isabel admits, cheeks getting hotter. "I've had a few. One when we were on a mission once, and Steve comforted me. But they've been worse since we were captured in Greece and after the castle…"
Peggy's eyebrows rise in recognition. Since they tried to wipe my mind, gave me a pill to fake my death, and planned on experimenting on me in front of my friends and family, is the hidden meaning behind Isabel's words. "Why didn't you tell me? Or Steve? Anyone?" Peggy asks quietly.
"I didn't want to bother anyone. You all have your own things to worry about. Most of it is silly, anyway. Stupid thoughts and fears that my mind thinks of and then won't let go of."
"None of it is silly. If anything, you've been silly. You shouldn't be suffering by yourself," Peggy berates, though her voice lacks its usual harshness. "Steve loves you, Isabel. He wouldn't want you to be suffering–"
"I know, I know," Isabel interrupts, putting her face in her hands. "But I love him, too, and I don't want to burden him with my nightmares, not when he already holds the weight of the entire world on his shoulders. I couldn't do that to him!"
"I dare say he wishes you would," Peggy notes, raising a disbelieving eyebrow. "Besides, if you ask me, you are his entire world. He'd give up the rest of it for you without hesitation, and I say that with absolute confidence."
"But I don't want him to do that," Isabel admits. "If he had to decide between me and Hydra taking over the entire world, I would expect that he would let me go. The needs of the many outweigh the few or however it goes. And I don't doubt that he would want me to choose the world over him if I had to as well. That's just what Steve does. He's good at sacrificing, though always himself."
Peggy looks at Isabel a moment, a sadness in her eyes. "Well let's hope it never comes to a situation like that," Peggy says finally.
"Yeah, yeah, of course," Isabel agrees. "Just promise me you won't tell Steve above the bad dreams, okay?" At Peggy's hesitant expression, Isabel clasps her hands in front of her in a pleading manner. "Please, Peg. For me. And for him. Don't stress him like that."
After a long silence, Peggy finally nods, her expression one of neutrality. Isabel lies back and turns away from the British agent, not entirely reassured by her behaviour that it is a promise Peggy intends to keep.
Sure enough, three nights later, Isabel has the next night terror. She watches helplessly from a glass chamber as Madame Hydra lines up the male members of the Howling Commandos on the marble floor in front of her. The Hydra soldiers force them down onto their knees, their wrists bound in handcuffs behind their backs.
The cat-like woman paces up and down the line, spitting curses and remarks at the men. "You have sabotaged every action of Hydra. Killed our men, stolen our weaponry, demolished our locations. I, and the Red Skull, have just about had enough. It is time to end this chaos, Captain. All of you. Turn over to Hydra and work for us, let us control you… or meet an early demise. It is your choice, but you have only one chance."
"We will never work for you," Dugan growls right back, glaring up at Madame Hydra. He spits at the ground by her feet to punctuate his point.
Madame Hydra doesn't hesitate, pointing her pistol and sending a shot through Dugan's forehead. His hat flies off his hair and he slumps forward, eyes wide and staring straight up toward Isabel. Isabel screams out for her to stop, but Madame Hydra ignores Isabel's pleas.
"Does anyone have a different answer?" There's no response from the men, the remaining glaring with blind rage at the woman. "Fine. Be that way. The world will be a much better place without the likes of you."
Madame Hydra raises her pistol once again and kills the entirety of the Howling Commandos squad one by one, a bullet to each of their heads. They fall like dominos, one after the other, silent and without protest. They've given up, lost their spark, and now they've lost their life.
Madame Hydra stops in front of Bucky, looking at him curiously. "Are you sure of your decision, Sergeant Barnes? We worked awfully hard to give you the power you currently possess. It would be a shame to see it go to waste."
"Go to hell," Bucky spits.
Madame Hydra sighs. She seems to slowly, deliberately lift the gun as if giving Bucky one last chance. Bucky's eyes flick to Isabel in the chamber, his dark grey orbs full of sorrow and apology. "I'm sorry," he mouths before looking away from her and closing his eyes, squeezing them shut. The gunshot echoes through the laboratory and Bucky falls beside Dugan, looking peaceful enough to be sleeping were it not for the wound in his temple.
Isabel is shocked into silence, her throat clogged up. She weeps uncontrollably, feels vomit work its way up her throat and threaten to come out, but she holds it in. She can't take her eyes off Steve, who has tears in his own eyes at watching his best friend killed before his eyes. Steve, nevertheless, stares determinedly up at Madame Hydra as she approaches him. She sticks the barrel of the gun under his chin, tilting his eyes up to meet hers.
"And you, Captain? I suppose you hold the same belief as your little friends? You will not fight for us?"
Steve turns, the gun digging into the skin under his jaw, and meets Isabel's eyes. "I'm sorry, Belle. I'll sacrifice us to save the many," Steve says, giving her a watery smile.
"What? Steve, how is this helping?" Isabel asks frantically. Madame Hydra growls in frustration, her finger resting atop the trigger. "No! Stop! Steve! If you die, we'll never beat the–"
The gunshot rings out and Isabel's plea cuts off with a strangled scream. Madame Hydra sneers as Steve's head flies backward from the force and he falls onto his back with a sick thud. He doesn't move again, blood leaking from the bullet hole under his jaw.
"No! NO, STEVE! STEVE! NO, PLEASE NO!" Isabel yells, banging with all her might on the glass of the chamber. Her fists ache from the impact but she keeps hitting, over and over, attempting to break a hole in the glass and climb out. Not that she can do much to help. They're all motionless, dead, gone, and even she can't help them now.
Madame Hydra steps up toward the chamber, looking in at her with a sick curiosity that unsettles Isabel. She looks in through the small glass window, frowning judgementally at Isabel's tear-soaked cheeks and red-rimmed eyes. "Wait here while we decide what to do with you," Madame Hydra eventually says before she slides a metal plate over the glass, plunging Isabel into darkness.
Isabel starts to panic inside the chamber, furiously banging on the metal in an attempt to break out. But her efforts are futile in everything but wearing her out and she eventually slides down the wall of the chamber, squeezing herself into a ball at the bottom. She cries and cries, barely aware of the noises outside the chamber, of a voice saying her name.
Then, two hands are grabbing her arms and gently shaking her, and she screams in fear and lashes out, unable to see the attacker through the darkness. She thrashes in their grip, but they keep a tight hold on her, refusing to let go.
"No! Please, no! Please don't do this, don't hurt me! No, leave me–"
"Isabel!" The familiar voice almost-yells, their tone pleading and frazzled. "Isabel, please, wake up! Open your eyes!"
Isabel's eyes fly open and she sits upright in a flash, her arms still pinned to her sides by a strong pair of hands. Her eyes flick up and she meets Steve's concerned ones, the blonde man sitting beside her on the bed in his pajama pants despite how cold the rooms are coming into the winter European months. It takes her only a moment before she falls into his arms, clutching around his neck and shoulders tight enough that her arms ache.
"Shh, Belle, you're okay," Steve hushes, running a hand through her hair and holding her tight.
"Y-you…I-I…s-she killed you, all o-of you," Isabel manages to get out through her tears, her body racking with sobs.
"It was just a dream, Belle, I promise. We're all okay. It was just a dream," Steve continues quietly, talking into her ear as she slowly calms down.
"I know," Isabel finally says once she's sure her voice won't waver. "Felt so real again."
Isabel pulls away and begins to wipe away at her wet cheeks, but Steve gently knocks her hands away and wipes them for her, his warm hands drying up her cold face quickly. "Peggy came and got me, said you were having a real bad nightmare. That you were yelling out for me in your sleep," Steve explains. "She said this isn't the first nightmare you've been having. That true? You been hiding them from everyone?" Steve asks gently, his voice void of all accusation.
Isabel sniffles. "Maybe," she says vaguely. "I-I didn't want to bother anyone."
"Everyone has nightmares, Belle. Even me and Buck. And you know what we've worked out, a little system?" Isabel shakes her head no, so Steve continues to explain. "When one of us has a nightmare, one that really shakes us up, we wake the other up no matter how tired they are – it's a rule we've got – and we talk about what happened in the nightmare. The other reassures us that it would have been scary, but it isn't true, and it isn't happening now because we're safe. Once we've talked about it, we feel better and we can go back to sleep. You gotta talk about 'em, Belle."
"I know," Isabel sighs.
"You remember when you had the bad dream in the barn that night on the mission?" Steve asks quietly. Isabel nods. "And we talked about it?" Isabel nods again. "You felt better after, didn't you?" Nod. "And have you had that same dream again?" Shake. "It really does work, Belle."
"I guess."
"So, next time, you wake someone, okay? You can wake Peggy or come and get me. Go tell Dernier, if you want. Just talk about it, promise?"
"I promise," Isabel relents, burying her face into Steve's bare shoulder. "You aren't gonna leave, are you?"
"No, I'm staying here tonight," Steve agrees. "I'm not leaving you alone. Peggy's in with Buck."
Steve easily manoeuvres Isabel back into the bed with her head on the pillow, climbing in beside her. She shuffles over as close as she can and rests her head in the crook of his neck, clutching to him tightly. He pulls the blankets up over her shoulders to keep the cold air out, then grabs her hand. He traces small patterns into the back of her palm, and quickly she calms down, falling asleep, her breathing evening out into a gentle beat.
It's the same action Steve remembers Isabel doing to him to calm him down the night after his mother's funeral when he'd been on the verge of a mental breakdown. He'd cried and cried himself nearly into an asthma attack and she'd just held him and let him cry into her shoulder, rubbed his back and traced circles onto the back of his hand. It had worked then, and it's worked now.
Steve doesn't sleep the rest of the night, staying awake to ward off the dreams. There aren't anymore, Isabel sleeping soundly through the darkness until the light creeps in from outside. Still, Steve doesn't allow himself to sleep. He just can't bring himself to stop tracing the patterns on her delicate skin.