𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒

༻ ❁ ༺

August 20th, 1943

          ANOTHER EXPLOSION made Alice flinch. The shelling had begun shortly after dinner and had not slowed since.

It was almost midnight and all Alice wanted to do was sleep. How was she supposed to do that when she couldn't even sit still? She paced from one end of the tent to the other, futilely attempting to calm herself.

She'd been anxious for days. Since the Germans started a ferocious attack on the front line nearest to the camp, the situation had deteriorated. They had driven the Allied soldier back far enough that the camp's senior officials were becoming increasingly concerned.

Alice wished they would stop using the hospital prep room for their 'surreptitious' conversations. After walking in on a flock of captains talking about retreat four times a day, she was having a terrible time putting on a brave front for her patients.

And now the world was exploding every few minutes.

"Would you relax? I'm the most stressed I've been all day just watching you. After Wright was called away, I had to close from an appendectomy." Gwen checked the size of the sweater she was knitting by holding it up.

"I think they are getting closer." There should be more space for pacing in the tent. The support poles were throwing her off.

"Count the delay." Gwen said absently returning to her work.

"They are mortar rounds, not lightning strikes." The words came out more than a little hysterical. Shelling was a sound she couldn't get used to. She didn't believe she'd ever be able to. How could her father have volunteered to go through this nightmare a second time?

༻ ❁ ༺

August 22nd, 1943

"You're lookin' a little on edge today doll." Bucky was worried about her.

Tempers around the camp were flaring, everyone was on a hair trigger from the shelling over the last few days. It wouldn't take much to set something off and for the nurses to get caught in the crossfire. Which wasn't why he was hanging around outside the hospital tent. Of course not.

"I didn't sleep last night." Alice confessed, rubbing gritty eyes with the back of her hand.

Bucky slipped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her down onto a crate. "Noisy neighbours kept you up?"

Alice nestled her head against his shoulder. She felt safe against his side like this. He was broad and warm, and the fact that his palm was massaging her arm made her feel so secure. "How do you do that? How are you not terrified all the time? I'd be scared stiff if I had to go out there. I am terrified."

Bucky shook his head. "Who says I'm not?"

She glanced up at him, watching his face carefully. "Really?"

He nodded. Then continued in a low voice. "You said it was a filing error that got you here. Wasn't my first choice either, if you catch my drift."

She went very still against him as the dots connected in her mind. "You were drafted?" She felt him nod, and it only made her hold him tighter. It was awful enough to be here against your will, but being pushed into a battle was far worse.

He responded with a low, rueful, and more than a little bitter chuckle. He took a step back from her, pulling his arm away from her shoulder. On the day he received his letter, he believed his heart would stop. It had taken him twenty-four hours and a whole bottle of alcohol to tell even Steve, much less his mother.

"All Steve wanted was to be allowed to get over here, and all I wanted was to be allowed to stay home." But neither of them had gotten what they wanted.

Bucky was hauled off to Basic after Steve was turned down at every recruitment office he visited. He'd been good with vehicles, but then he always had been. He could have happily gone his whole life without discovering how good he was with a gun. After every battle, he had spent his first several weeks on the front heaving into the bushes.

Steve would have been so much better at all of this. Well, not sleeping in a tent, but running into danger, and not being scared of anything. Steve had always been great at that. Too good at it. It got them into trouble more times than Bucky could count.

Steve's reckless martyr, fight-whether-you-can-win-or-not attitude, was the reason so many of Bucky's stories ended with 'so I punched the guy'.

Everyone assumed it was because he was a strong person, but the fact was that he just didn't want the people he cared about to be hurt.

He studied his hands in his lap; his knuckles weren't bruised as often these days. Instead, his palm was calloused where he gripped his gun, peppered with powder burns and tiny scratches. The bruises were something he missed.

"You're a Sergeant." Alice whispered. Bucky had been forced into this, she hadn't even thought. He was strong and capable. And he was always smiling. At least with her, he smiled.

"My shooting scores were just that good. Ironic, right?" Bucky snorted. That had been a surprise to him too. He'd excelled everyone in his basic training class, as well as the one ahead of him. Because of this, as well as his affable personality, his training officers felt compelled to promote him. He hadn't raised any objections. It was a strange type of protection to be more than a private.

"I hate fighting. I wouldn't do it if I had a choice, but I'm pretty damn good at it."

"Oh, Bucky." Alice pulled his hand into her lap, folding it between both of hers.

The corner of Bucky's mouth twitched up in more of a grimace than a smile. Look at him, pouring his heart out to a pretty girl. "Don't go blabbin' on me. I've got a reputation to maintain."

"Your secret is safe with me," she promised, snuggling back against him. "If anyone asks I'll tell them you're completely Devil may care and not scared of anything." But she would know the truth. That he was as scared as she was, but brave enough to face it every day anyway.

Bucky lightly rocked her, softly humming. He hated the idea that his girl was scared all the time. Even more than he hated being scared all the time.

"What song is that?" Alice asked, cuddling her head more firmly against his neck.

Bucky kissed the side of her head. It was a little embarrassing. "Just a little ditty that makes me think of you."

"Sing it for me?" Alice curled a hand into the fabric of his shirt. He was so warm and solid. She was safe here. Nothing could hurt her as long as he was holding her.

"Course, doll." Bucky tightened the arm around her waist.

"Close your eyes,
Rest your head on my shoulder and sleep
Close your eyes, and I will close mine.

Close your eyes, let's pretend that we're both counting sheep,
Close your eyes, oh this is divine.

Music play something dreamy for dancing,
While we're here romancing
It's love's holiday, and love will be our guide.

Close your eyes,
When you open them dear,
I'll be by your side
So won't you close your eyes."

Bucky trailed off as he finished the song.

Alice shifted closer to him, head rubbing against his shoulder in what a more daring girl might call a nuzzle. "You have a nice voice."

Bucky rubbed her back. "Come on, doll. I don't want to be the reason you're late for rounds."

He smiled as he brought her to the ward. He noticed the twitch of canvas when Gwen stepped outside as he turned to go.

Bucky tossed her a lazy salute. "Sister Richardson. Always a pleasure."

"I'm watching you, Romeo." Gwen glared at him, hands on her hips.

Bucky gave her his brightest smile. "You don't like me, do you?"

She didn't warm at all. "I think you're trouble."

"I don't want to hurt her." Would rather cut off his left arm than even think about it.

Gwen obviously wasn't won over by his assurance. "Just because you're not trying to doesn't mean you're not going to."

He didn't have anything to say about it. He couldn't guarantee that everything would turn out alright. But, as long as she had him, he would do all in his ability to be there for her, to return to her.