𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐎𝐌

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   (excuse the weird little time skips. i've included the dates to try and make it easier to follow)
   
  

November 3, 1943

          PLANNING TO MAKE an afternoon of it, the women had claimed the ledge made by the tracks of a tank. Six of them perched in a neat row.

The last time a USO show came to town, the entire camp had a carnival atmosphere. Things were a little more subdued today. The males lacked the same sense of hope that Peggy had given the girls the day before. As a result, there was a pall of doom that hung over them all.

To put it mildly, the show was a complete fiasco. From the moment he went on stage, the poor suit-wearing man was booed. One astute observer even suggested that Captain America autograph the pasty white cheeks on display.

"Well this is devastating to watch. I have filing I could be doing." Gwen hopped off their perch. "Let me know if they start a riot."

"Oh Steve." Peggy sighed as the girls streamed back onto the stage. It was worse than she had feared.

Martha rubbed a circle between Peggy's shoulders. "Sorry sugar. At least he's cute."

Alice simply cringed with pity. As he walked off stage, she could almost sense the poor man's humiliation. Such an act would have been funny a few months ago, but with their recent losses, it's no longer enjoyable.

Bucky's friend had constructed a persona that she didn't want to see in this light.

She shoved the feeling down. She couldn't bear thinking about him just now. Not with so much work remaining to be done. She'd look over her journal tonight, when the camp was quiet and her fellow nurses were sleeping, and recall a man who had sent her wildflowers.
  
 

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"Wait here." They heard Peggy say as she walked into the Minor Injuries ward, and turned to find her crossing the floor with the Captain America performer behind her.

Turns out that cowl hid a devastatingly handsome face, with fine-cut cheekbones and soulful blue eyes. They could see instantly why he'd become such a stand-out hit back in America.

"Who's your friend, Peggy?" Gwen asked, with a small smirk, noting the hot blush that flooded onto the mans face.

"He's going after the 107th. His best friend was with them." Peggy's eyes were wild, but determined.

"Oh good. A dead actor is exactly what we need." Gwen snorted. If only it were that easy, she'd have gone after them herself.

"He's more than an actor," Peggy reassured them. "He can do it. He can bring them home."

The deep aching that had dwelt in the nurse's chest since her husband was kidnapped throbbed fiercely as a weird buzzing grew in her ears. Gwen took a step forward, her hands clenched into fists, "Margaret Carter. If you are lying to me right now - "

"If anyone can rescue them, Steve can," Peggy promised. She had to believe he could bring them back. Had to believe he would come back. "He's going to bring Sergeant Barnes and the others back if he has to fight half the German army to do it." Would have done it even if he was still small. One thing she had learned about Steve Rogers, he was nothing if not determined.

Alice frowned. "What does Bucky have to do with him?"

"He's my best friend and the only family I have left," the man answered, turning to face her. "You know Bucky?"

Gwen eyed Alice sideways but didn't give her a chance to form her swirling thoughts into coherent words. "He's a friend. How is he getting there?"

"Stark is here to see the colonel. He has a plane." Peggy answered readily.

"You get him. We'll get supplies. I think we can do better than -" Steve's bag was stolen from his grasp by Gwen, "- half an egg sandwich and a can of spam? What precisely were your plans for this?"

He shook his head sheepishly. "I wasn't even thinking about it. I just had to go as soon as I found out he'd been captured."

Gwen nodded, pulling the sandwich out of the backpack and stuffing it into his hands. "Sit down. Eat your sandwich. We'll take care of the rest. Alice -"

"Already on it." She nodded, and dashed off in search of what he would need.

Her first stop was the quartermaster's warehouse. They needed more supplies for the Minor Injuries Ward anyhow, so adding a few extra things to the requisition was simple.

Her next stop was their own barracks. Since learning that their men may still be alive, she'd been stashing stuff in her footlocker. She had contemplated the hare-brained notion of going for them herself for a brief time. She had no fighting experience, no clue where she was going or how to get there, but if she had felt she could make a difference, she would have gone.

Alice shook her head. A foolish idea, as tempting as it was to revisit now.

She knew there would be men in need of medical help, but Rogers should be concentrating on getting their soldiers out, not on defending an obstinate nurse who didn't belong on the battlefield.

She would have to distract Gwen in case she'd had any of the same ideas.

She yanked off her wimple, putting her stockpile of bottles and bandages, as well as the rest of her supplies, within. She then dashed back to the ward, where her friends awaited her.

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November 4, 1943

Bucky leaned heavily against a tree trunk. Two hours forced march and he was ready to drop.

He was doing better than he had any right to be, considering he had no idea when the last time he'd eaten was, and he'd definitely been electrocuted yesterday. Was that only yesterday?

But he was still struggling.

If they had to keep up this pace on foot, he was going to struggle, and he wasn't the only one. They'd been on low rations for far too long and didn't have much stamina left.

"Tell me you have a plan to get us the rest of the way out of here."

Steve pulled out the receiver Peggy had given him. Flipping it over in the air proudly. "We've got a ride."

A bullet whistled out of the darkness.

Bucky swore and grabbed a rifle from the man standing next to him. He retaliated by shooting down the three Hydra troops who had surged through the woods.

Steve picked up the shattered transmitter.

Bucky shifted his gaze between the shattered equipment and his friend's bemused expression. How many times had he seen that same expression when one of Steve's schemes had gone awry? He reacted almost instinctively. "You fucking idiot."

The familiar refrain jerked Steve out of his panic spiral. "Keep talking like that and I'm going to let someone else walk next to me."

"Maybe I don't want to walk next to you."

Bucky didn't enjoy how much this reminded him of his youth. Steve is causing a slew of problems for them. They were squabbling their way out. Since he was the one who'd been apprehended, he'd accept blame, but Steve was suddenly two feet taller and built like a slab of concrete, so he felt like he was off the hook.

He was not looking forward to walking out of here.

Steve patted Bucky on the shoulder. With Bucky at his back, he could do anything. "Yeah you do."

"Yeah, I do," He admitted, sighing and shaking his head. "We're not done talking about whatever happened to you."

"Never thought we were." Steve groaned, cracking his neck.

"Are all Americans insane?" One of the men - Falsworth, they thought his name was? - asked under his breath.

Lawrence shook his head and shouldered one of the blue glowing rifles. "I think they might be a special kind of insane."

Steve squared his shoulders. He was Captain America. Time to act like it.

"Alright men. Looks like we're walking home from Austria. Everybody fall in around the tank. We need to distribute any weapons we have, as evenly as possible. Pick a buddy and stick with them. Once we get to the other side of the road, we'll take a roll call. The men who are least hurt pick up arms and defend the rear. I don't think I need to tell you to fire at will, but fire at will."

Bucky stepped into stride tight behind Steve's left shoulder, despite his initial protests. There was something very right about Steve at the head of a column. It seemed as if he had always belonged there. Bucky, on the other hand, had no intention of leaving him up there alone.

Every great Captain needed a Sergeant.