56.
London, United Kingdom
November 14th, 1944
In the middle of the night while everyone is asleep in their own rooms and all of the lights are off, the streets of London are relatively quiet. The locals are used to making their way inside before nightfall, adhering to the curfew of the blackout. They abandon the streets and hide away in their references, a black card or curtain plastered over the windows to keep the light in. From above, the city of London would be quite unremarkable, lacking in light and life.
The hotel the Commandos stay in is silent apart from the faint sounds of snoring from the men's rooms. And there's the faint sounds of a woman's cries as Isabel thrashes in her bed against yet another nightmare.
The Skull's got her by the throat this time, squeezing until her face turns blue. Steve's watching from over the Skull's shoulder, his arms and legs bolted to the floor by a mass of metal, and he can't get up to help her no matter how he tries. He can only watch as Johann Schmidt chokes the life out of her, just as he had to Bucky moments before, his body lying lifeless on the floor beside her. A single tear rolls down Isabel's cheek as she feels her vision fade and her thoughts jumble. Suddenly, the entire ground shakes around them, and the Skull stumbles, Isabel still tight in his grip. The ceiling shakes, and rubble rains down on them. The Skull turns to look at Isabel, his eyes deranged through the fog of her mind. A second explosions sounds, closer this time, taking out the metal door to the room they stand in, and through the hole in the wall walks a determine Peggy Carter, gun in hand and lips painted her signifying bright red.
"Isabel!" Peggy's calling to her, but Isabel can't respond around the Skull's clamp on her throat. "Isabel!" Isabel–"
The world fades as Isabel's eyes close and she falls from the Skull's grip toward the cold concrete, and then the world is black and Peggy's face is right in front of her, shaking her shoulder roughly.
"Isabel! Wake up!" Peggy cries, looking around worriedly.
"Huh?" Isabel mutters truly confused. Her eyes widen then and she flies upward in bed, looking around the dark bedroom. "W-where are we?"
"Home," Peggy answers quickly. "I don't know where you just were, but we're here right now, and there's a Blitz–"
Another bomb from a surprise air raid drops down on the street outside the SSR building, shaking the streets and buildings to their very foundations. It throws Peggy to the side, hitting the beside table.
"We need to go," Peggy yells above the noise of the screaming and planes and whirring of sirens outside. She's around the bed before Isabel can even comprehend what's happening, throwing on a coat over her nightgown.
Steve flies in through the door a second later like a wild tornado, eyed wide with panic. He's not wearing a shirt, a white t-shirt in his tight fist. Isabel can see Bucky flying down the stairs behind Steve, jumping around on one leg into a pair of pants as he does.
Steve's eyes first land on Peggy, who's hurriedly shrugging her arms into her coat sleeves. Steve quickly and respectfully looks away, his eyes flicking to Isabel as she jumps out of her own bed, still groggy from sleep. She's looking around wildly for something, and her eyes snap to Steve when he bursts through the door, widening when she sees he's shirtless. His own eyes widen and his cheeks blush profusely seeing Isabel in her nightgown.
Another bomb outside jolts them out of their respective states of awe.
"We have to get downstairs!" Steve tells them, eyeing Isabel's dressing gown hanging over the chair and grabbing it. He hurries around the bed to her and helps her thread her arms into the sleeves.
Bucky appears in the doorway then, looking ruffled but alert. He's flanked by Dugan, the two of them looking relieved to find Steve already with Isabel and Peggy.
"It's getting closer," Dugan informs them.
Just then, another explodes close by, rocking the building worryingly. They can hear the loud drone of the airplanes flying back and forth overhead, rattling with the weight of the explosives in their bellies and preparing to drop more. Steve grabs Isabel's hand, dragging her from the room and into the hall, following Bucky, Peggy and Dugan. Bucky's got a tight grip on Peggy's hand, pulling her along with him.
They spot the other Commandos emerging from their rooms around them, as well as other SSR agents, all of them filing down the narrow staircases and avoiding the lift. The mass gets down two levels, trying to avoid the panic of everyone else who seem to feel the need to shove past Captain America himself. Steve is barely jostled by the movement, a barricade to protect Isabel in front of him and Peggy and Bucky ahead.
Suddenly a blast makes contact with the building, blowing a hole in its side one level above. The building shakes and rumbles, debris falling from the ceiling and the glass of the windows shattering in a blast of shards that rains down on them all. The force is enough to trip everyone over, some people catching themselves on the staircase banisters and others tripping entirely, falling to the ground and knocking others down too.
Bucky and Peggy only just catch themselves on the banister. With impossible speed, Bucky throws an arm out to catch Dugan's arm and hold him in place to right himself after he tripped forward, stopping Dugan from a serious fall down the entire flight of stairs. Both Isabel and Steve trip, Steve managing to balance himself immediately on the next step and catch Isabel in his arms before she hits the floor, hauling her upright again. He wraps his arms protectively around her, shielding her head as larger chunks of plaster, debris and glass continue to fall from above, and she clutches tight to his arm.
They pick up the pace, practically running down the stairs, eventually passing the lobby and descending into the safety of the underground bunker. As soon as they're safe, standing inside the rather empty cafeteria, Steve tugs on his t-shirt to cover the view from anyone looking, though the shirt is tight enough that it doesn't leave much to the imagination.
Peggy looks at the four Commandos as though they're thick headed. "What are you doing? You still need to find cover!" She berates, grabbing Isabel's hand and pulling her downward, dragging her under a cafeteria table. Bucky and Dugan follow suit, crawling under the table opposite with only one curse word from Dugan when he hits his head on the bottom of the table, but Steve hesitates.
"I should help," Steve argues, moving slowly toward the door.
"There isn't much you can do about a barrage of bombs, Captain. Unless you can take a group of planes down who are flying at 2,000 feet, though I doubt that's within even your magnificent capabilities," Peggy replies sarcastically, reaching out and grabbing Steve's ankle to pull him to the floor. It doesn't do much to forcibly move him, but Steve gets the hint, dropping down and clambering under the table next to Isabel.
The bunker outside is empty of life, everyone hidden under desks or hiding out in their rooms upstairs until the attack passes. It's certainly safer underground with a layer of bitumen and earth to protect them from the powerful blasts. They just pray that everyone upstairs is safe and hasn't been hit by a shell or debris. They sit and wait in near silence, only their heavy breathing permeating the air. Every now and then there's the loud resounding sounds of explosions above them or the drone of a plane. The ceiling rattles and dust falls to the ground, the lights swinging around on their cords. The lights also go out a few times, throwing them all into complete darkness until they flicker back to life.
The Blitz ended years ago, the bombing shaking the city to its core and taking out many of its buildings and people. It had been a terrible time for London and not one that would be forgotten. However, the Baby Blitz, as people were calling it, still called around at random times when the Germans thought it necessary, shaking up the city once again. The bombs were nowhere near as dangerous and terrifying as the Blitz but were still intimidating enough to keep Londoners under wraps and the blackout continuing. The Commandos were yet to experience one, though they know one happened whilst they were on mission.
After a few hours of terror and waiting and a lot of fearful but silent crying from Isabel who still doesn't seem to be able to control it, the noise of the planes overhead finally weakens until it disappears entirely and silence reigns. Slowly a few brave people get up, including Steve, wary that the planes could return for a surprise attack. When then don't return for a few minutes, everyone crawls out from their hiding places to survey the damage.
"That was probably one of the longest to date. There will be a lot of cleanup in the city tomorrow," Peggy notes, dusting off her coat. Isabel shakes her hair out from all the dust that has settled in it, brushing off the shoulders of her dressing gown. Her eyes are a little red and puffy.
The Commandos all seem to hang around the cafeteria waiting for Steve to return from wandering around the base, while Isabel and Morita head down to the infirmary to help anyone with injuries. There's a few bumps and bruises, people with a cut here and there, but mercifully there's no serious injuries or casualties. Isabel cleans a few wounds and bandages the cuts, a little self-conscious in her dressing gown, sending the SSR Agents on their way. Most of them are just shocked, and Isabel can't refute that. The idea of being attacked even on the home front is unsettling. The SSR base was supposed to be their refuge, their safe haven, but even that's proven not to be safe. Isabel wonders whether they're truly safe anywhere.
After a while, Isabel feels the adrenaline in her system fade, leaving her with an overwhelming sense of tiredness.
"That hospital bed looks nice right now," she tells Morita as they wash their hands at the sink, not having any injuries for the last ten minutes. The bunker outside the infirmary is almost empty, everyone trudging back up to their rooms to survey the damage and get some more sleep.
"Oh yeah," Morita agrees, drying his hands with a towel. "That's the adrenaline wearing off. And the fact none of us have had a proper sleep in a good few months."
After another half hour without anyone to treat, Isabel and Morita decide to leave the infirmary, promising to return the following morning. Outside, they find Steve leaning against the wall waiting for them all, the other Commandos having already gone up to their rooms. Steve looks exhausted, though not from lack of sleep. He looks worried, wary, and bone-deep exhausted as though he's had enough. Isabel thinks all of them could attest to that feeling.
"You didn't have to wait, Cap," Morita says, smiling appreciatively to his Captain.
"It's no problem," Steve waves him off, standing up straight. "I had to make sure all my team got back safely."
Morita nods and leads the trio back up the stairs into the dorm areas. The stairs are still littered with glass shards and bits of concrete and plaster, and they carefully clamber up the stairs. Isabel is without shoes, having been dragged from her room before she could think to put any on. Steve lifts her across patches that are impossible to step around, despite the fact he's walking on the glass shards himself to do so. He doesn't listen to Isabel's protests though, keeping his eyes on the path in front of them. The shards don't seem to bother him in the slightest, and Isabel wonders whether they're even sharp enough to penetrate his enhanced skin.
The floor of their rooms is relatively unscathed, though the one below has a blasted hole through one wall, warm air and heavy smoke blowing through into the hallway. A fire burns in the building across the road, already attended to by the appropriate services, firetrucks and ambulances present at the scene without their lights flashing.
Morita parts to his own room, mumbling a goodnight punctuated by a yawn. Isabel carefully opens the door to her room, peeking inside and finding it untouched. Steve momentarily goes next door to Bucky's room, where Bucky is standing inside. They have a quick conversation in Bucky's room before Isabel hears the door shut, and there's a knock at her own door a few seconds later. She opens it to reveal Steve, looking stressed, an expression that's become common on his features and one that Isabel wishes could be there less often. Steve steps inside and she shuts the door again, uncaring that others may think it was scandalous.
"That was close," Isabel prompts, looking carefully at Steve from the doorway. Something is clearly bothering him, and the cause is obvious considering what just happened.
"Scary close," Steve agrees, sitting on the edge of her bed. He puts his head in his hands and truly looks like he's going to burst into tears.
"Is that what's making you so distressed?" Isabel asks quietly.
"I guess. Just when I think you're safe here, away from the front, the action comes to you…" he says, trailing off at the end unable to find the words.
"I know, I was thinking that as well. We aren't really safe anywhere, are we?"
"God, if any of those bombs had hit this building first, hit this side, who knows what would have happened," Steve cries. He puts his head in his hands, running his fingers through his hair. "If I couldn't get to you in time I–"
"Woah, Steve," Isabel says, hurrying over and grabbing the sides of his face, forcing him to look up at her.
"No, Belle. You could have died, we all could have died, and I wouldn't have been able to do anything about it–"
"Steve, please just listen to me. I know that protecting people is part of your job now, and I know that you don't want to see me hurt. I love you for that, I really do, but honey…" Isabel sits down on Steve's lap despite his widening eyes, caressing the back of his blonde head and staring straight into his baby blues. "You can't protect me every second of every day. I know you wish you could, but you can't. It isn't possible. You can't put those kinds of expectations on yourself. Things happen that are out of your control, whether we are in a war zone or safe at home in Brooklyn. That's just the lottery of life. You never will know the outcome."
Steve doesn't argue, but his pinched expression doesn't let up either. "I know it scares you, the thought of us being without each other. I know that losing me is one of your worst fears. Losing you is one of my worst fears, too. I know what that feels like; I remember the uncertainty, even from before you were Captain America. But we chose to come here, and we chose to stay and keep fighting. There are a hellava lot of people that don't get a choice. And all those people out there, all those brave men, whether they chose to enlist or not…They aren't all your personal responsibility. You can't save everyone in the world, just like I can't save every patient. Sometimes it's out of our control."
"I know that, Belle. I know I can't save everyone. But I want to."
"And that's why Doctor Erskine chose you. You care more about others than you care about yourself. You're a good person. But there comes a time when you need to let a bit of the weight off your shoulders and give some of it to someone else to burden. Otherwise it's gonna get too much and it's gonna damage you beyond repair. You may be superhuman, but even you have your limits to how much weight you can hold and to how much pressure you can take."
"Who am I supposed to give that kind of responsibility to?" Steve asks quietly.
"Give a little bit to the others, just enough that they can still stand upright and that you lose that weight. They can handle it. There's a reason why they're the ones following you."
"It's not just because they're a little crazy?" Steve asks, managing to laugh.
"Maybe that, too," Isabel laughs. "I think you also need to learn to distance yourself. I know they're all your family, but you still have to think of yourself. You can't always save them, sometimes they've got to help themselves. You gotta look after yourself so that you can look after me, just like I've got to look after myself to look after you."
"I'll always look after you, no matter what," Steve promises, running his thumb along Isabel's cheek, his hand cradling her face and winding in her hair.
"I know. That's what worries me," Isabel admits.
"You don't ever need to be worried or scared. Anything that scares you, you tell me straight away and I'll take care of it for you."
"I'm not quite sure how it works if you're the one worrying me," Isabel laughs again, lightening to conversation.
"We'll work it out," Steve promises. "Belle, I just want you to be happy. I don't ever want to see you sad again, not as long as I live. I always want to see you smiling and laughing and safe. I know it ain't possible, but it's just what I wish I could give you. You're always beautiful, but even more so when you got that sparkle in your eyes."
"Stevie, you always make me happy. You always have" she promises. "Zvezda moya," Isabel purrs in a language Steve doesn't recognise, making direct eye contact as though she knows the affect she has on him.
"W-what does that mean?" Steve grounds out, his pupils dilating as his eyes move down to Isabel's lips.
Isabel continues to lean closer to him, their lips getting closer and closer to touching. "'My star' in Russian," she tells him. Steve can feel her breath mixing with his own, their noses brushing against each other lightly. "You remember that night on the roof, looking at the stars?"
"Uh huh," Steve replies, gulping.
"You did it. You did something better than anyone ever could have imagined. That kid from Brooklyn, he became a star," Isabel reassures him, before closing the gap between them.