allied base.
azzano, italy.
october 1943.

     THE morning air was cool as a crisp breeze fluttered over the military base. Diane closed her eyes as the wind swept through her braided up hair. She walked through the grid of green army tents until she located her favorite person since she'd been with the 92nd. They hit it off the moment they met and had been joined at the hip since. It was like they had already known each other and they vowed to be best friends from then on.

     "What's buzzin', Gabe?" she fell into step with him smiling up at him.

     "Hey. Did you hear we're getting reinforcements from the 107th Infantry?"

     He had her interest piqued. "The 107th?"

     "Yeah. Why? You know someone in the 107th?" he glanced down at her.

     "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

     He smirked, "Must be someone special to get you grinnin' like a schoolgirl."

     "Shut up, Gabe," she shook her head playfully, "It's James."

     "Ah, right. Your hard-boiled fella."

     "I never thought I'd be able to see him since we got deployed. I hope he's doing okay."

     "I'm sure he's doing fine, Diane. And I bet he can't wait to see you."

     The two friends found a place to sit where they could continue their conversation. "Have you gotten any letters today?"

     A small smile grew on his face, "Yeah. My mom responded to my last one. What about you?"

     "Geri. Wrote the whole damn thing in Creole. She's paranoid about other people reading it." she mused.

     "I never did learn Creole. Just French and German. You gotta teach me when we have time–"

     They both stopped as Colonel Fredrickson strolled by. He shot Gabe a dirty look and they returned the favor. The duo watched until the blonde man was out of earshot before carrying on with their conversation.

     "Troud chi. Why does he have such a problem with y–"

     "They're here!" Private Peters, the most excitable of the men of the 92nd, shouted running up to them. Diane jumped up, looking around. Then she spotted the 107th coming into view. And through the crowd a familiar head of gorgeous hair and striking jawline.

     "JAMES!" she bounded for him.  When he saw her charging toward him, he broke out into an infectious smile. He held his arms out and she jumped into his embrace causing him to stumble backward. She linked her arms around his neck and his hands found her waist. She let out a joyous, tinkling laugh as he spun her around.

     "Ya know, you're stronger than you look," he chortled.

     She gave him a look of adoration, "I've been so worried about you, lamour. How was the expo?"

     Bucky set her down on the ground, "Aw, Stark had a flying car, Di! I wish you could've seen it. It was swell."

     "That sounds great. Promise you'll take me to the next one when we get back."

     "Of course I will." He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into his embrace.

     Her smile faded as she prepared to tell him what she had been dreading, "James, there's– there's something I need to tell you."

     He recognized the tone in her voice and gave her a look of concern, "What is it?"

     "I– I think it's better if I tell you now, but I've been moved to the heck sniper unit." That's when he noticed the triple chevron badge marked with a "T" underneath on her shoulder.

     "Diane–"

     "I know. I'm sorry, James, but–"

     "Do you? Do you know, Diane? If we got captured–

     "I know."

     "–they could–"

     "I know. I knew the risk when I volunteered to be a sniper."

     "Diane," he looked up to the heavens, "I swear to God, if we get captured and they–" he stopped himself, unable to say the words, "I don't what I'll do with myself."

     "Well then, just make sure we don't get captured, Sarge." she quipped with a half smile.

☆

     The sounds of gunshots and screams were echoing in her ears. She couldn't tell which ones were real sometimes and she feared that each one might be one of her own soldiers. It had been hours since Diane situated herself in this tree. Her legs and arms were cramping and she was famished and exhausted. The putrid odor wafting from the battlefield killed her appetite, however the stabbing pains of hunger were still there. Diane sighed and went back to scouting for more Nazis.

     She stiffened when she spotted something odd through her scope. It was a tank, but it had a strange red symbol on it. It was hard to make out from that distance, but it wasn't a swastika. What the hell? She was thoroughly confused and wondering if the Axis Powers might've had a secret division or something they weren't briefed about. She was about to aim at another Nazi who had his gun aimed at an Allied soldier when a burst of blue light swallowed him and others around him whole then dissipated without a trace.

     Her heart was beating faster against her rib cage as she watched the madness unfold before her eyes. It all happened so fast, she barely had time to make sense of it all.

     The tank continued to fire the lethal blue energy at the Axis soldiers. She thought that the tank might be on their side, then she saw soldiers from both sides fleeing the hellish scene. Not many were getting away, however. Another tank soon followed and it was aimed at her men now. Diane could see the symbol little more clearly now and it was as menacing as the power it unleashed.

     All she could hear was the blood rushing to her head as she nimbly climbed down from her position in the tree, rifle in hand, and bolted into the fray, straight for the trenches.

     Amidst all the chaos, all she could think of was him. Her James.

     Men from both sides ignored her as they ran into the forest away from the tanks.

     "Stay down! Stay down!" she yelled at the top of her lungs as she crossed the field of men exploding into mysterious, blue light. She managed to dodge them all, some narrowly missing her. Her legs burned as they carried her across the scorched field like a gazelle. She'd only run this fast one other time in her life. She quickly pushed that thought to the back of her mind and kept her attention on staying alive.

     "Shit!" someone cried as her body careened into the trench.

     "DIANE! What the hell are you doing? Why didn't you run?" Bucky's voice rang loudly in her ear above the deafening sound of warfare.

     "Warning you! Those tanks out there are firing at both sides. So maybe instead chastising me for not abandoning my men, spread the word down the trench to stay here!"

     Men yelling for each other to stay down spread along the length of the field and rose above the harsh sound of the tanks wiping out hundreds of bodies. The earth rumbled with the roar of the war machines coming ever closer.

     It didn't last much longer and when it stopped, everyone exhaled in relief. However, dread quickly took its place.

     The tanks had stopped moving, but now they could hear convoys of trucks approaching.

     "Diane." she turned to face him. She found his azure eyes among the filth and grime on his face, "Please, promise me something. Promise me that no matter what happens, you won't let them know."

     "What do you mean? Now's not the time to be vague, James." she huffed.

     He took her face in his hands, "Diane, they can't know we're together. If something happened to you, I– for me, please."

     She nodded, "I understand."

     "I love you, Diane." he pulled her close and pressed a somber kiss to her temple.

     "I love you too, James." she clutched his shirt. Her heart was beating in her throat and her eyes stung with tears.

     "Aufstehen!"

     They climbed out of the trenches. Diane was aware of Bucky's presence beside her, but she never looked back at him. The surviving men of the 92nd and 107th Infantries were met with the sleek, jarring uniforms of HYDRA.

     "Gehen, Schwein!"

     The men surrendered and were ushered onto the trucks. Bucky tried his best to stay close to Diane, but she got lost among the other men. A HYDRA soldier grabbed her roughly and forced her onto a truck with strangers. She tried her best to swallow the panic that was slowly rising. As the trucks and tanks left the scarred battlefield behind, she focused on her hands. She pictured the stars and constellations that she had memorized so well. She began to hum a soft tune under her breath.

☆

secret hydra weapons factory.
austrian alps.
october 1943.

     "The Reich shall win because we are unified in blood as in purpose. While our enemies... are the polyglot peasants of Europe and the mongrel masses of North America.

     "Schnell! In your kennels, you dogs!"

     "Herr Lohmer, what should we do with das Mädchen?" one of the corporals pulled Diane aside. Panic rose like bile in her throat.

     "Americans allowed a negroid woman into combat?" the man named Lohmer laughed, "And here, I thought I had seen everything! Put her with those three." He pointed to a random cell.

     The guards shoved her into the cell and closed the door behind her. She glared at them as they left before sitting down with the others.

     "Welcome to the party, Di." Gabe sighed.

     "I was scared they'd throw me in some other cell full of strangers." she gave them a half smile. She moved to sit closer to Bucky and looked him over. "Are you alright, lamour?" she asked in a hushed tone.

     "Just a little cough. I'm okay. Don't worry about me." She furrowed her eyebrows. She could see he was breathing a little harder than normal and he could barely keep his eyes open. Everybody was exhausted from being in battle and dragged back to the factory, but at least most of them seemed... responsive. She placed the back of her hand on his forehead. Her heart skipped a beat. Her hand slid down to rest above his heart.

     "You're warmer than usual. I think that's cause enough to worry." she retorted. He swallowed thickly. She finally noticed the third man with them. A broad-shouldered gentleman with a well-groomed mustache and bowler hat. "What's your name?"

     "Dum Dum Dugan."

     "'Dum Dum?' That's what your momma named you?"

     "No, ma'am. She named me Timothy, but my friends agree that Dum Dum suits me better."

     "Well, do you mind if I call you Dugan then?"

     "I surely don't." She nodded and turned back to trying to nurse Bucky.

     That night, the walls echoed with a soft, eerie voice. Like a sad siren's song, it lulled the men to the peaceful shores of slumber. As Diane, herself, slipped into a dreamless sleep, she left the air hanging light with somberness in her wake. And that's how it went each night in the cells. Every night she sang and every ear tuned in. Memories of childhood lullabies from a mother's tongue or the melodic tunes of the latest radio hit being hummed by a girlfriend swarmed each soldier's thoughts. Sounds of home. Safety. Familiarity. Everything that was thousands of miles away.

     Days went by of grueling work on the factory floor before more prisoners joined them.

     "This way, Limey! In your kennel!"

     Two more men were thrown into their already cramped cell.

      Dugan announced himself without preamble to the newcomers. "Dugan. Fightin' Irish of the 69th. This here's Jimmy with the 107th and his gal, Diane. 92nd. New York freakin' City. Hope you don't got a problem with that."

     "Jones. Macon, Georgia. 92nd Infantry as well. All black, all proud." Gabe introduced himself.

    "Falsworth, of the Birmingham Falsworths. That's in England." said the man in green with a red beret adorned with a golden badge.

     "Yeah, thanks. Your nose scrapin' the ceiling kinda gave it away." Dugan interjected.

     Falsworth shot him a look before continuing, "I am... what is left of His Majesty's 3rd Independent Parachute Brigade."

     The Frenchman spoke up, "Dernier. My people were resisting the Nazi occupiers in Marseilles."

     "Hey, Jones." Dugan spoke up.

     "What's that, Dugan?"

     "You know how many Frenchman it takes to defend Paris?"

     "How many, Dugan?"

     "I dunno. They've never tried." he quipped.

     "They cannot turn against us while they are at each other's throats."

     Before she knew it, Diane was seeing punches being thrown left and right. Bucky instinctively pulled Diane away, but she got to her feet.

     "Hey! Stop! STOP!" she yelled at them. Gabe held Dugan back. She gave the men an accusatory glare, "What is wrong with y'all? Why are you fighting each other? How's that gonna help us? Huh?"

     "She's got a point." muttered Gabe, releasing Dugan from his grasp.

     "They're the enemy," she stabbed a finger in the direction of the assembly lines, "not France. Not England. We are supposed to be Allies! This is exactly what they want. Why do you think they've got us all split up? Separating us by nationality and race. We're all on the same side of the war, but we can't even stop warring with each other. Hate and stereotypes doesn't get anyone anywhere. If we're going to fight together, we need to be unified!"

     The men averted her piercing gaze in shame. Bucky felt a surge of pride watching her take charge. They mumbled apologies like scolded children to an incensed mother.

     She resumed her seat. "No more fighting," she said with finality. And no one argued.