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wiypt-writes · 3 years

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Stark Spangled Rebirth

Chapter 6: Couldn’t Call Our Ride

Summary: On the trip back to base-camp, Steve finds himself bonding more with Katie, and also grows close to a number of the prisoners they liberated.

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark Word Count: 7.8k

A/N: Again, used a fair bit of creative license with this but, what is Fan-Fic if not exactly that? This series is my contribution of sorts to the CATF 10 Year Anniversary Challenge.

And my girl is back! @angrybirdcr hitting the spot with some wonderful edits to accompany this chapter.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

SSR Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 5

hey reached the rest of the men a few hours later and Steve was please to find that Dernier and the British officer, Falsworth, had already started to organise things. The wounded were being treated as best as they could by the trained field medics who were amongst the soldiers that had been liberated, a little food was being handed out, and there were men patrolling the perimeter of the area of the old, abandoned camp.

However, the elation Steve felt at having found Bucky and the rest of the men soon died down when, after Katie told him to send the signal to Peggy and Howard, he found out the transponder was going to be of absolutely no use whatsoever.

Not because it didn't work, oh no. But because it had clearly been hit in the crossfire, a corner blasted off somehow.

Which meant they were alone, with no ex-fill forthcoming.

Katie had, once again, been the voice of logic, this time supported by a few of the other soldiers and reasoned with Steve that they would be best taking a few hours to rest and treat the walking wounded before they regrouped in the morning and came up with a plan. The Captain had obliged, despite his itch to get going as soon as possible. He knew, logically, that she was right.

After wandering the camp and making sure everyone was okay, Steve’s attention then turned to ensuring that there were enough people ready to relieve the guys on guard patrol for the evening. He wanted them swapped out regularly enough to allow them all to rest. Once he was satisfied they were organised, he walked a little further round the perimeter, his sharp eyes checking into the distance every so often.

His stomach gave a little growl and his hand dropped to the top of his jacket, absentmindedly rubbing at his belly. He’d so far declined the offer of food, despite assurances from the men handling the supplies that they had ample for everyone. He knew that might not be the case if they were still stuck in a few days, and there were people in far more need of a meal than he was. Still, he knew he was going to have to eat something at some point.

With a groan he slumped down onto a large upturned tree trunk, letting out a frustrated breath. How could he could be so dammed stupid as to damage their ticket out of here? There was no way to call help, and now they were faced with a hundred and twenty click hike back to base through potentially occupied territory.

As he sat there, mulling over his own stupidity and failings, he heard a footstep behind him and he turned sharply to see Katie approaching him, carrying a foil packet in her hand. Her boots crunched over the frosty layer of leaves and detritus that covered the woodland floor as she approached him.

“Hey,” she smiled, her breath fogging the cold air in front of her. “I know you haven’t eaten, and I also know you won’t unless someone makes you so, here.”

Steve gave her a little smile in return and took the packet she was offering, looking at the label before he took a rye cracker out of the packet and shoved it into his mouth. It wasn’t particularly tasty, and was rather dry, but it was food none the less. She then handed him a canteen of water which he took with another thanks and flipped off the top, taking a huge gulp.

“Everyone who’s ill or in desperate need of a meal has had some hot broth.” She continued to explain. “Bucky managed a good mug or two of it, that is before he started coughing his guts up anyway.”

“Bucky’s sick?” Steve frowned. “I thought he said he was doing okay?”

“Well that’s men for you.” Katie gave him a little smile as she perched on the log besides him. “Insisting you’re always okay when you’re not.”

“Is he in a bad way?”

“No, all things considering he’s actually in pretty good shape.”

“All things considered?” Steve turned to her, his puzzlement reflected on his handsome face, his brows furrowing. “What do you mean?”

“Has he not told you?” Katie frowned.

“No.” Steve shook his head.

“Well, in all fairness he didn’t tell me either, it was Dum Dum.”

“Oh.” Steve let out a breath satisfied that his friend hadn’t been holding out on him. “How do you know him, Duggan I mean?”

Katie took a deep breath. “He was part of my specialist team at first, but when we got news that the Nazis and HYDRA were marching on Azzano, well, it was all hands on deck so to speak and he was dispatched with the rest of his original unit to fight.” She paused bit her lip, folding her arms across her chest, almost as if she was hugging herself to keep warm. “From what Dum Dum tells me, that’s where he first met Bucky. Apparently, Bucky contracted walking pneumonia on the battlefield, which got progressively worse in captivity.”

“And let me guess, HYDRA were nothing short of sympathetic?” Steve snorted sarcastically and Katie gave a little chuckle as she leaned against him, shivering.

“I’m sure you can guess why they were kept in those cages instead of being shot.”

“They were being used as labour in the factory.” Steve stated and he felt Katie nod as he lifted his arm so she could snuggle in against him a little.

“Thanks.” She smiled and Steve’s hand curled over her shoulder, gently rubbing her arm. “You’re ridiculously warm.”

“Must be the serum.”

“Must be.” She mused before she lay her head against him. “That the only reason you’re making the moves on me, Rogers? To keep me warm? Because I should tell you, I’m not that kinda gal!”

Steve gave an exasperated sigh as she chuckled. “You forget, I know exactly what type of dame you are.”

At that she let out a full on laugh which warmed his chest even more and he felt her shake her head. “Yeah, I guess you do. Just don’t tell Howie, he likes to think I’m perfectly sweet and innocent.”

“Bull shit.” Steve shot back before he could stop himself and she simply shrugged before they fell silent for a moment, Steve’s hand still gently rubbing at her upper arm. As the silence continued, he worried he’d overstepped the mark a little and he glanced out again across the cold, dark forest, wondering what to say, and then Katie shifted next to him, snuggling in even further and began to speak again.

“Bucky became so weak that one day that he collapsed in front of the Colonel that was in charge.” Her voice was soft, and Steve turned to look down at her, swallowing at the thought of what his best friend had been through, a thought which became progressively worse as she continued. “He took a nasty beating as a result and was dumped back in the cage which contained Dernier, Dum Dum, and Falsworth. The three of them fast realised that if Bucky was made to do any more work he’d die so they came up with a plan which basically got rid of the Colonel for good.”

“What, you mean…”

“They killed him.” She stated, matter of factly. “Crushed him under a tonne of machinery. This left some other goon in charge, and he was slightly, well, a little more compassionate, so Dum-Dum says. When this new guy spotted Bucky was ill he was taken to the isolation ward.”

Steve shifted a little and Katie sat up as he ran his hands over his tired face, dragging his fingers down his cheeks before his elbows came to rest on his knees. He pondered her words for a moment, chewing his lip before he spoke again, his voice soft.

“How long?”

“How long what?”

“How long had he been on the isolation ward?”

“A few days, apparently.”

Steve shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“Maybe they didn’t want to infect the rest of the workers.” She offered and Steve shook his head.

“But why take him there and not just-“ he stopped short of what he was going to say but Katie gently reached out, her hand laying on his back.

“I don’t know.” She answered.

“Did they do anything else to him?”

“Again, no idea. You’ll have to ask him. He aint gonna give you anything tonight, though. One of the guys shot him with some penicillin that was in the medical supplies we stole and then gave him something to help him sleep. He’s out for the count in one of the tents. He’ll be fine after a rest, Steve.”

Steve looked around, his eyes falling on the soldier currently walking the perimeter as he passed a few hundred yards away from them, before he took a deep breath.

“I should go, see how-“ he made to stand but Katie gently laid a hand on his arm, stopping him.

“Everything and everyone is fine, Steve.”

“I’m their Captain.”

“Yes, and you’ve done enough. You should get some rest, we both should.”

“How can I just sit here?” Steve shook his head. His mind was whirring, his body positively thrumming with adrenaline and unease, making the mere thought of sleep seem impossible.

“You need to. We have a long trip back to base ahead of us.”

“Which is on me.” Steve raised his eyebrows, not meeting her eyes as he focussed on a tree trunk a few feet ahead of them.

“How do you work that one out?” Katie frowned.

“I should have kept that transponder safe.”

“Oh for God’s sake!” She spluttered, her tone laced with exasperation as she shook her head as he turned to look at her.

“What?”

“Stop with this self-pity.”

“I’m not-“

“Yes, you are!” She rolled her eyes. “The transponder got broken, it wasn’t your fault. And short of inventing a time machine, there’s exactly zilch anyone can do about it. So sitting here, wallowing in your own completely misplaced sense of guilt is utterly pointless. You need to pull it together, because you’re right about one thing.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s that?” Steve’s nostrils flared angrily at her tone as she groaned.

“You are their Captain.” She stared at him, her green eyes full of fire. “And if they see you looking despondent and moping around what the hell do you think that’s gonna do to their morale, huh?”

“You know what?” Steve fixed her with an icy glare, his temper flaring. “I’ve had it with you telling me what to do, Agent Stark. I think you’ve forgotten who’s leading this mission!”

“Without me you wouldn’t have lasted five minute in that base, Captain Rogers!” She scoffed. “You hadn’t the first idea about basic stealth or operations.”

“I’d have managed just fine.”

“You know,” Katie gave a snort, shaking her head as she stood up, “Erskine was right about you, you really are a stubborn asshole”

“And you’re a brat.” He shot back, a little childishly as he too rose to his feet and with that she laughed.

“A brat?” She raised her eyebrows, wrinkling her nose up as she continued, sarcasm dripping off her words. “Original. Never heard that one before.”

She turned to leave and Steve felt his temper rising even more. He was sick and tired with people underestimating him.

"All you care about is how everyone sees you, because you got somethin’ to prove.” He shot to her back. As soon as the words flew out of his mouth he knew he shouldn’t have said them, his mind whirring back to the conversation he’d had with her the night before his transformation and, as she turned to face him, he felt a sudden pang of guilt at the anger and hurt that was etched across her face as she stalked towards him, stopping less than a foot away, her finger jabbing him in his chest.

“Listen here you stupid son of a-”

Before her tirade could continue, Steve grabbed her by forearms and pulled her straight into him, his lips forcefully crashing against hers. She reciprocated for a moment or two before she made a noise of protest and put her hands on his chest, shoving him slightly.

“You are an arrogant-“

“Shut up.” He mumbled, his lips crashing to hers again and this time she made no further protests, instead she melted into his arms, her lips soft against his as her arms slid round his neck, his own large hands splaying on the back of her combat jacket as he held her close. The kiss was furious, bruising, a far cry from any of the ones they’d shared so far and when they eventually broke apart, he pressed his forehead to hers as Katie stood, her eyes closed for a moment, her chest heaving. Eventually his eyes opened to find hers already studying his face and she took a deep breath.

"Where the hell did you get the sack for that, Rogers?" She asked, her voice little more than a whisper as she continued trying to catch her breath.

“The serum?” He shrugged a little as her hands fell to his shoulders, the heat rising from his neck to his cheeks as he realised exactly what he’d just done. He bit his lip and, as she gave a snort, he cocked his head, feeling a little bolstered by his act of bravery and he grinned and quipped. “Had to shut you up somehow.”

Before she could respond, no doubt with an equally sassy remark of her own, Steve heard a twig crack somewhere to his right and he whipped round, automatically pulling Katie behind him only to find Dum Dum and Dernier stood a few feet away. Both of them wore similar expressions of amusement as Dum Dum’s head turned slowly to the left. Dernier met his gaze and mumbled something in French before he laughed.

“Yeah, I got no idea what ya’ just said, Pal.” Dum Dum sniffed before he looked at Katie, his arms folding as he let out a smirk. “Well, well Lady Lieutenant and The Captain.”

Steve swallowed, the heat in his cheeks burning like a furnace and he felt Katie let go of his hand before she stepped out from behind him, smoothing down her jacket, her hands settling on her hips.

“You’re only jealous Duggan because the closest you’ve been to a woman in the last God knows how long was when that nurse was pulling a bullet outta your ass after the raid on the base in Norway.”

Duggan’s mouth twitched below his moustache before he let out a below of laughter, his eyes twinkling. “You gotta smart mouth, Stark. Gonna get you into trouble one day!”

“It already has, several times. Got me out of it too.” She grinned. “Now, did you want something, Corporal?”

Duggan shook his head, his eyes crinkling as he smiled. “No, Ma’am. We were just doing the rounds so to speak.”

“Well, don’t let us stop you.” Katie gestured with her arm, making a sweeping motion, signalling for them to keep on walking.

Exchanging another smirk, the two men straightened up and saluted her before they continued on their way. As they passed, Dernier gave a little nod to the Captain, chuckling as he remarked. “Vous auriez pu au moins lui acheter un verre d’abord, Capitaine.”

“Oh, nous avons bien depasse cette etape.” Katie shot back and Derneir stopped dead, blinking as she smirked before he let out a loud laugh and hurried after Dum Dum.

“Okay, what did he just say?” Steve asked, drawing up behind her as they both watched the men leave.

“He said that you could have at least bought me a drink first.” She turned, smirking as Steve rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I told him we were way past that stage.”

“Jesus, Doll!” Steve groaned, his face scrunched up in embarrassment and mock frustration, all the while Katie laughed.

“What?”

“That’s gonna be all round the Camp by morning.”

“You ashamed of me?” She teased.

“No, of course not.”

“Then don’t worry about it.” She gently patted his chest. “All things considered, I think that’s the least of our concerns don’t you?”

With that she stood on her tip toes and placed a soft kiss to the side of his mouth before she stepped back. “Now, I’m gonna go back to the rest of the guys and make sure they’re all okay, and as their Captain, I suggest you do the same. Keep that morale up, like I told you to.”

She gave him a smile before she turned and headed back towards the main part of the camp.

Steve stood stock still, his mind whirring and digesting what the fuck had just happened, before he shook his head, and jogged after her, once more acquiescing to her instructions.

***** Whilst there may not have been much deep sleeping going on, there was certainly plenty of rest and refuelling undertaken so to speak, and at first light the next morning Steve gathered Katie, Dum-Dum, Dernier, Jones, Morita and Falsworth in the back of one of the trucks to discuss their plan going forward, leaving Bucky to sleep as long as he could. He’d fast taken a liking to the five men having heard from various other men about how they’d organised the troops at the base, and his first-hand experience of how they’d been during the night around their makeshift camp. Plus Katie trusted Dum-Dum and Steve trusted her, so it was good enough for him.

Katie and Falsworth had found maps of the terrain buried in the stuff they’d taken from the factory and worked out their distance to the allied camp was approximately ninety-five miles as the crow flies. They had further estimated that, given the state of the men and the fact that were going to have to skirt around various battles that were still raging on, they would probably average between twenty to twenty-five miles a day, meaning it would take them at least four to get back.

They had trucks, a tank, enough supplies to keep them going for a few days, and Dum-Dum stated the obvious, that Steve could go on a head, alone, and be much faster if needs be. But that wasn’t something he wanted to do, plus as Katie rightly pointed out, he would be number one on HYDRAs radar right now. The last thing they needed was to lose him because, as blunt a point as it was, that was just the type of thing Schmidt would need to keep the heat off the fact they had just lost one of their factories.

Then there was the fact that Steve simply didn’t want to leave them behind. They were his men now, he wanted to stay with them, make sure they made it back together. Leaving them would be an absolute last resort.

They split into groups, heading round the camp to spread the word about the plan and instruct the men to be ready to leave as soon as Steve gave the signal, and the Captain took the opportunity to head into the tent were Bucky was resting. He was pleased to see his friend looked a hell of a lot better than he had the previous night, sat on the edge of the make shift cot which had been fashioned out of a number of broad topped crates and blankets, rolling down his sleeve as one of their medics had just administered another shot of penicillin.

“How you feeling, Buck?” Steve asked, stepping into the tent and to the side to allow the other solider to leave, giving him a salute as he passed.

“Like I’ve been run over by a Panzer.” Bucky grumbled and Steve gave a small smile. Bucky sighed, shaking his head. “I’ll be fine, just got a-“

“I know.” Steve cut him off. “I got the low-down.”

“Stark?”

“Yeah.”

“I bet that’s not all you got.” Bucky smirked and Steve rolled his eyes letting out a groan. “Don’t go gettin’ all coy on me, Stevie.”

“I’m not being coy.” Steve protested and Bucky let out a bark of a laugh.

“Course not.” Bucky pulled on his boots and bent to lace them. “You gonna tell me yourself or do I need to go huntin’ for gossip?”

“There’s nothing to tell, lay off, Buck.”

Bucky snorted. “I don’t even have to look at you to know you’re lying, you’re that bad at it.”

“It’s, well, it’s a little complicated.” Steve attempted to placate him but Bucky finished lacings his boots and looked up at him, hands resting on his knees.

“You like her?”

“Of course I do…”

“She like you?”

Steve blushed and his hand rubbed at the back of his neck. “Well, yeah, I mean…”

“Well then, what’s complicated about it?” Bucky shrugged.

“In case you hadn’t realised we’re not exactly here under normal circumstances.” Steve arched an eyebrow.

“All the more reason not to waste any time, Punk.” Bucky stood up, cracking his neck side to side. “Who knows how long we’ve got.”

Steve’s brow raised a little as he looked at Bucky, letting out a sigh. “You sound like her.”

“Well she clearly talks sense, you should listen.” Bucky smirked, taking a step towards him. “So, Captain, what’s the plan?”

“You asking me about Katie now or…” Steve quipped and Bucky grinned, slapping his shoulder.

“Steve, you clearly aint got a plan when it comes to that Dame, so there’s not point askin’ ya ‘bout it is there?” He drawled and Steve sighed, giving him a look. “No, I mean to get us out of this Godforsaken shit hole and back on friendly territory. You do have a plan, right? I mean I hear you always got a plan nowadays.”

Steve groaned as Bucky’s mouth curled up into a huge grain and he shook his head.

“Still a pain in my ass.” Steve grumbled and Bucky shrugged before he took a deep breath.

“But seriously, what are we going to do?”

“We’re getting ready to move out.” Steve’s hands dropped to the buckle on his belt. “We got approximately a hundred and twenty or so kilometres to cover. Gonna be hard but…” Steve popped a shoulder before he studied Bucky as he let out a huge, chest-wracking cough. “You can ride in one of the trucks.”

“I’m fine, Steve.”

“You’re clearly not.” Steve raised an eyebrow.

“There are men far worse off than me, this is just an infection, I’ll be fine. Dare say fresh air and walking will do me good.”

At that Steve let out a snort. “Yeah, just like it used to do me good, huh?”

“That was different.”

“How so?”

“Damned it, Steve, stop being an asshole.” Bucky shot back, glaring at him. “I’m telling you I’m fine. Coped with more in that base than you could even begin to imagine, a coupla day’s hike will be easy in comparison.”

As soon as the words were out of his friends mouth, Steve noticed him look away, clearly cursing himself for his outburst.

“What did they do to you?” Steve asked gently. Bucky swallowed and turned to Steve, shaking his head.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I was out of it for the most but they, well I can remember them sticking me with needles and then there were all these bright lights and…” He trailed off. “It hurt.”

Steve took a deep breath and stepped forward, his hand curling round his friend’s shoulder but Bucky shrugged him off. “Don’t.” He looked at him, his eyes fierce. “Just don’t.”

Steve moved back, holding his hands up in front of him, palms out in a conciliatory manner. “Okay.”

There was a moment’s silence, and then they were aware of voices and Steve turned to see Katie step into the tent.

“Everyone’s moving, St-I mean Captain.” She smiled and Steve felt his cheeks flushing as he was well aware that Bucky was watching him carefully.

“Yes, Ma’am. Be with you in a moment.”

She nodded then her gaze flicked to Bucky who shot her a dazzling smile. “S’up Doll Face?”

“You’re looking better than you were yesterday, Barnes.” Katie smirked a little at his familiar nature and he shrugged, flashing her a wink.

“Takes a lot to keep me down, Darlin’”

“I don’t doubt it.” She grinned, before her eyes locked with Steve’s again and she turned, and left.

“Damned, Steve.” Bucky whistled through his teeth. “The first girl who actually lays her peepers on you, and she’s an absolute dish.”

“Piss off, Bucky.” Steve shot back and Bucky once more laughed, shaking his head before he gave a loud, exaggerated sniff and wiped dramatically at his eyes.

"My boys all grown up,” he spoke in a theatrical emotional voice, before he swept from the tent leaving Steve glowering at his back.

*****

After a near miss with a hostile unit on the first day of their journey, Steve took the informed decision to only move under the hours of low light and darkness. He was keen to keep any confrontations to a minimum given the exhausted and weak state of many of the men he was leading. After discussions with the group of seven who were fast becoming the ones he was turning to most for advice and support, they all conceded that whilst moving at night made it almost impossible they would be spotted by any air-borne allied surveillance, it was the best chance they had at keeping casualties to a minimum.

They kept to the less worn roads as much as they could, sometimes having to split up if the vehicles couldn’t make it a certain way, but thanks to the variety of skills the group had, along with Katie’s unbelievable sense of organisation, it seemed to work. By the third day they were almost three quarters of the way there by their estimations anyway.

“St-I mean, Cap?” Katie’s voice hit his ears and Steve turned to face her where she was walking a little behind with Dum-Dum, rifle in her arms. “I think we’ve got about an hour or so before daylight, we should probably be looking for somewhere to make camp.”

Steve looked up at the sky, his eyes straying to the horizon which he could just see through the valley they were set to make their way between and she, as always, was right. The first slivers of daylight were peeking through the dark, tendrils of orange and pink snaking through the sky.

He turned back to her. “Do we stop before or after the Valley?”

“If you want my advice,” Dum-Dum cut in, “I’d say before. If we get caught down there, Cap, we’re sitting ducks. Best chance is after nightfall.”

Katie nodded to show she agreed, and Steve took a deep breath. He was keen to press on as much as he could, and had been hoping to make it through the last line of hills before they stopped. But, he knew they were right and they’d covered a lot of ground over the last march. As luck would have it, the nights were longer than the days due to the season so, despite the fact it was cold and the weather wasn’t particularly kind to them, it worked to their advantage.

“Okay, let everyone know. Jones, Dernier, can you guys get up high,” he nodded to the hill face a little to his right, “see if you can spot anywhere that might be safe to set up camp.”

“Sure thing.” Jones nodded, and Dernier gave a little salute as the two men took off silently.

Steve declined the canteen of water Katie offered him and she gave him a stern look, her arm remaining outstretched. With a roll of his eyes and quirk of his eyebrow he took it, his fingers brushing hers and he frowned.

“You’re freezing.”

“Soon warm up once we’re round a fire.” She shrugged. “Now drink, enhanced or not, you need to keep hydrated.”

“Yes Ma’am.” He quipped, causing her to roll her eyes, but he didn’t miss the smirk on her lips as she turned to Dum-Dum when he asked her if she wanted him to run down the line and set the communication chain off.

“How you feeling?” Steve moved over to where Bucky had settled, perched on a flat rock jutting out from the side of the mountain face, his legs dangling over the edge.

“Peachy keen, Stevie.” Bucky looked at him and Steve snorted as Bucky leaned back. “Nah, I’m good, Pal. Feel a lot better. Turns out your Ma did know what she was talking about, fresh air can clear your lungs.”

“Yeah, shame there wasn’t much to be found in a cramped, inner Brooklyn city.” Steve smirked and Buck chuckled.

“True.” He bit the inside of his lip as he looked down at his hands. “Do my folks think I’m dead?”

The question caught Steve off guard a little and he frowned, sitting down next to his friend. “You were MIA assumed lost so I suspect they’ve been informed of that. But don’t worry about it, once we’re back you can get a telegram to them, assure them you’re okay.”

“Okay.” Bucky snorted, shaking his head. “Whatever that means.”

“I thought you just said you felt good?” Steve looked at him and Bucky shrugged.

“I do.”

Before Steve could dig further into whatever the hell Bucky meant, a crunch of feet on gravel to his left made him spring to his feet, but it was only Jones and Dernier back from the scouting mission.

“There’s a break in the rock formation, bout half a mile or so further. Reckon it’s a good place to form base. Plenty of spots in and around to hide. Bad news is the vehicles are going to have to go around once we set off again. It’ll take them off course a little but we’ll meet them again about two or three miles through the valley.”

“Thanks, Jones.” Steve nodded. “Get the news down the chain.”

It wasn’t long before they’d found the spot Jones and Dernier had been referring to, and everyone moved around quickly, like a well-oiled machine, establishing the base camp. Thanks to the natural shelter of the terrain, not as many tents this time were required, but Steve insisted, as always, that Katie got her own.

Soon some form of soup was cooking, water was being handed out along with what was left of some sweet liquor that they’d also liberated from camp and soft chatter rang out across the troops. The walking wounded were being treated once more for the night and Steve took the chance to walk around, talking to as many people as he could.

Once he was sure everyone had been fed, he took a helping for himself and settled down round one of the small fires where Bucky was sat with Katie and the other five men that had all formed a close bond. He ate, not really paying attention, until Dum-Dum loudly lamented that his facial hair was getting out of control and Katie snorted.

“You’re not going to find many barbers round here.” She shook her head. “Besides, it all adds to the well-worn rugged look.” She glanced at Steve before she smirked. “Even Cap’s sporting a good layer of stubble.”

At that Bucky laughed. “Makes a change, huh pal. You know he once didn’t shave for a week, looked just as smooth at the end of it as he had at the start.”

Steve groaned, as chuckles rang out at his expense, absentmindedly rubbing his hand over his chin. “Yeah, well, things are different now-“

“No shit”

“- and it seems to grow pretty fast.”

“Were there no razors at all in the stuff we took?” Falsworth asked and Katie pondered.

“There’s some toiletries but no many, that said I can’t say I’ve looked. Why are you bothered?”

“I like to keep up appearances.” Monty looked at her. “Plus, regulations state we should either be clean shaven or sporting a full, groomed moustache…”

“Yeah, come on Lady Lieutenant, surely you know that?” Dum-Dum looked at her, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

Katie shrugged. “Well, yeah, but who’s gonna tell?”

“Well, I like to take pride in my appearance.” Dum Dum shrugged. “Something you’ll understand”

“What, because I’m female?”

“Are you? Hadn’t noticed.” Dum Dum’s eyes twinkled in the light of the fire as a Katie rolled her eyes.

“Steve has.” Bucky quipped causing them all to laugh as Steve gave an exasperated sigh, feeling the familiar heat of embarrassment spread up his neck and his cheeks.

“Well, if you’re all vain enough to be that bothered, go raid the supplies.” Katie leaned back, resting on her elbows, legs stretched out in front of her, crossed at the ankles. “Good luck trying to shave in the dark though, without a mirror.”

As the night went on, one by one the men peeled off to take their rest or sentry duties, leaving Steve, Katie and Bucky alone round the fire. They chatted for another hour or so before Katie told them she was going to hit the hay.

She stood up, stretching before she reached out for one of the tins in the fire, wrapping her hand in her sleeve so as not to burn herself as she took the heated water. “Oh, and don’t tell the others, but if you guys want help, so to speak, with the old,” she pointed at her face, drawing a circle in the air, “I’ll do it for you. Just give me five minutes to wash up first.”

Steve watched her go before he turned to Bucky who was eyeing him shrewdly.

“You taking her up on that?” He asked and Steve frowned.

“She was joking.”

“I don’t think she was.” Bucky smirked. “In fact I’m pretty sure that was a ploy to get you to follow her.”

Steve sighed, “if that was true, why did she invite you?”

“Jesus, Stevie, you’re so clueless. She did that so it isn’t obvious.” Bucky rolled his eyes. “If both of us go into her tent, it looks a lot let suss than if you or I go in alone. Well, that is, unless everyone thinks we’re having some form of threesome that is.”

Steve grimaced before he took a deep breath, turning to Bucky. “No offence, but you’re not my type.”

“Ouch.” Bucky smirked as Steve stood up. “Oh, are we going now? Damned, you’re keen.”

Steve shot him another look before he turned and strode after Katie, Bucky hot on his tails.

Katie simply laughed as they entered her tent and told them both to sit on the make shift bunk she had before she disappeared and came back with a cut throat and what little else she could salvage from the supplies.

“Who’s first?” She brandished the razor and her eyes fell to Bucky.

“Trust you with a cutthroat?” He looked at her and she placed her hands on her hips.

“I do this for Howard all the time.”

“No offence, Doll Face, but I'd rather jump on a grenade.”

“Steve already did that.” Katie quipped.

Bucky turned his head slowly to face him. “What happened to not doing anything stupid till I got back?”

“It was a dummy.” Steve shook his head.

“You didn’t know that.” Katie grinned and Bucky snorted.

“A dummy?” He grinned “That’s definitely stooped, with two os.”

“Hey, in my defense it was very realistic.” Steve pouted. Katie chuckled and looked at him, and Steve felt the heat in his neck rising as the memories of that night came flooding back. And from the look on her face she was recalling them too. She stood there, simply looking at him, biting her lip a little, before she gave a yelp.

“Ow!” She raised her finger to her mouth, sucking at where she’d just nicked it on the razor.

“Yeah, now I’ll definitely pass.” Bucky’s eyes widened and he stood up. “You kids behave.”

Katie watched him sweep from the tent before she turned to Steve. “Something I said?”

Steve laughed and rubbed at his neck as she grinned and held up the razor. “What about you, Soldier? Do you trust me with a potentially fatal weapon at your throat?”

“I trust you with my life.” Steve replied immediately and the cheeky grin on her face turned to a soft smile as she stepped forward, folding the razor and slipping it into her pocket.

“Little naive that, Stevie, considering we haven’t known each other that long.”

Steve shrugged. “I’m a pretty good judge of character.”

“Sure you are.” She smiled, before she moved and dipped her hand into the tin of warm water. “Head back, Captain.”

Steve obliged and she wet his face as best she could, the pads of her fingers brushing against his stubble before she then worked the bar of soap into a lather, massaging it against his chin and cheeks. Steve’s gaze was on her face the whole time as she concentrated, his hands flexing on the edge of the thin bunk which was made out of a couple of the supply crates.

“This isn’t going to be as close as I’d like.” She mused.

“Are we talking about the shave now or…” Steve looked at her and her eyes met his and she shook her head.

“Yes, I mean the shave.” She chuckled. “I can see Barnes is rubbing off on you already.”

Steve smiled as she dipped her hands back in the tin and wiped them on her jacket, before pulling the razor back out.

“Ready?”

“All yours.”

“Are we talking about the shave or-“ She teased, playing his words back to him and Steve held her gaze, her eyes flashing as he took a deep breath.

“What do you want me to be talking about?”

There was a moment’s pause and she dropped her head, swallowing before she looked back up at him. “How many other girls you said that to, Rogers?”

“One or two. In each location, I met a lot on the USO tour.” He teased as she gently titled his head back with her fingers.

“That so?” She mused, swiping the razor down his cheek in a clean, sweeping arc. “Maybe I should carve my name into you.”

Steve smiled.

“Stay still.” She instructed. “Although, I feel I should warn you, if you are mine, I don’t like people touching my stuff.”

“I’d kinda figured that one out.” Steve spoke softly as she swept the blade down his cheek again, washing it in the tin before she moved to the other side. As she stepped across him, his hands fell to the side of her thighs as she continued, her tongue poking through her lips in concentration, before she stepped behind him, his head falling back so she could move down his throat.

The tent was silent, Steve simply watching as she worked, momentarily lost. No woman had ever done this for him before, bar his mother, and that had been when he’d been too sick or sore to do it himself. But this, there was something so incredibly intimate, so innocent, so pure, so ridiculously sensual that he found himself torn between wanting to close his eyes, surrendering completely to her ministrations, and watching her as she worked. As it happened, he did both, shutting his eyes for a moment as she gently moved across his jaw before his eyes opened to focus on her pretty face, as she bent a little nearer and he swallowed.

Eventually she finished and moved round to look at him, tossing the razor into the tin as she smiled.

“There. Almost as good as new. It’ll do until we get back.”

“Thanks, Sweetheart.” Steve ran his hand over his now reasonably smooth face and took a deep breath, before he reached out, his hands taking hers. “Look, maybe, if I mean we actually make it home and get leave or whatever, me and you could, you know, perhaps go out?”

“You asking me on a date?” She smiled, and his face creased into a grin.

“Guess I am, yeah.”

She smiled, “I’d like that.”

She leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, her hands tenderly cupping his strong jaw, his own gripping at her hips, fingers flexing at the roughness of her uniform. Eventually she broke away and pressed her forehead to his, taking a deep breath.

“I really do need to wash up and hit the sack.” She sighed, her voice almost an apology but Steve didn’t mind. Whilst they’d already crossed that line in a way, this was fast becoming a little more serious. Yes, Bucky was right, they had no idea how long they had, but for the time they did have, he was going to at least try and do it properly.

And bunking up again, on a pile of hard crates in the middle of some god-forsaken mountain trail was not proper. His mother would kill him.

Nodding to show he understood, he rose to his feet, his hands cupping her face as he placed a soft kiss to her lips.

“Night, Doll. Or Morning, whatever.” He smiled and she gave a little laugh as he stepped back, heading to the door of the tent. With a final look over his shoulder, he swept the flap at the front open and left to find somewhere to lay his own head for a rest.

*****

Dawn had broken on the fifth day by the time they approached the camp gates. As Steve led his platoon over the brow of the hill he felt an overwhelming sense of relieve as he saw the barrier and the men guarding it. His sharp eyes picked up one of them holding up a set of binoculars before he harshly slapped them into the palm of his partner, before setting off at a sprint back into the camp.

As they walked towards the blockade, the vehicles rumbling behind them, Steve turned to Bucky, giving him a smile which was met by one from his friend before he felt a smaller hand slide into his, giving a quick squeeze to his palm. He turned to his right and glanced down at Katie who looked up at him, her tired face bearing a look of utter relief.

The gate was raised to allow them entry into the camp, people rushing towards them, staring in awe. Soldiers began to greet their comrades, and Steve could feel the sheer outpouring of emotion as people greeted the brothers in arms they had obviously never expected to see again.

“Here he comes…” Steve heard Katie mutter and he looked up to see Colonel Phillips pushing through the group. Steve simply continued marching forwards, drawing to a halt in front of the man, offering him a crisp salute.

"Some of these men need medical attention." Were the first words he offered the Colonel and somewhere someone shouted for a medic. Steve continued to look at Phillips with a knowing expression and took a little breath in through his nose. "I'd like to surrender myself for disciplinary action."

The Senior Officer’s lips pressed together into a thin line and Steve could see him mulling things over, no doubt trying to decide whether to rip into him or praise him. In the end, he did neither.

"That won't be necessary." Phillips said simply, which Steve knew was going to be as close to a well done as he was going to get.

The Captain just about managed to refrain from smiling, as the slightest hint of a smirk twitched at his lips. "Yes, sir."

With that, Colonel Phillips turned to look at Katie. “You okay, Agent Stark?”

“Peachy, Sir.” She nodded before she gave a little snort. “Although I expect I won’t be once Howard gets hold of me.”

“Well considering he thinks you’re dead, I expect this will be a rather pleasant surprise.” Phillips arched an eyebrow and Katie looked down at the floor, swallowing. “Don’t worry, I’ll make the call so you don’t have to.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Steve watched as the Colonel turned to leave the group, stopping as he noticed Agent Carter standing to the side, looking rather smug for want of a better word.

"Faith, huh?" Phillips looked from Agent Carter to Steve and Katie, before shaking his head slightly and heading off towards the tents.

Peggy took a deep breath before she moved, stopping as she drew herself up to full height in front of Steve and Katie before she arched an eyebrow, her eyes flicking between the pair of them.

“You’re late.” She quipped as she locked eyes with Katie who snorted. Steve reached into his pocket and pulled out the broken transponder.

“Couldn’t call our ride.” He smiled back and Peggy looked at him, shaking her head slightly, her lips curling up into a smile, before she turned back to Katie and then all professionalism left her and she stepped forward, wrapping her arms round the other woman.

“We’ve been so worried.” She whispered, and Steve turned away, not wanting to intrude on their moment, even though his super sensitive hearing made it impossible to tune out of their conversation.

“You’re not the only one.” Katie replied, and Steve heard her voice crack a little and before he could stop himself he’d reached out, his right hand curling over her left shoulder. In what appeared to be an automatic response, Katie had reached up, her arm crossing over her chest to allow her fingers to briefly tangle in his and give them a squeeze.

Agent Carter merely raised her eyebrow further, that smirk on her face growing wider before Bucky’s loud voice rang out to Steve’s left.

"Let's hear it for Captain America!”

As the cheers rang round the camp, Steve allowed himself a little moment to bask in the genuine feel good factor that seem to have flooded the place at their return. It was self-indulgent, slightly egotistical, a little arrogant even, but at that moment in time, as he glanced down at Katie who was watching him, a broad smile on her face before her top teeth bit her bottom lip as she blatantly eyed him up and down, he couldn’t have cared less.

****

Chapter 7

#stark spangled rebirth #steve rogers #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x original female character #katie stark #chris evans #chris evans characters #mcu #mcu fanfic #mcu fan fic

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isa-ly · 3 years

Text

“I HATE MY LIFE, LMAO”

TW: mental illness, therapy, self-hatred, self-deprecation

Let's start this one off with a text I received a few months ago from a friend, who I hadn't seen or spoken to in a while:

For anyone who isn't fluent in German, it reads as follows: "I'm hip and have a Twitter too now, as you probably noticed. Your own Twitter doesn't sound like you're too doing well. Can I help in any way?"

At first, I was like: "Huh? What does she mean?"

But, well...

Alright, I see her point.

And that's what I'm here to talk about today: Tweeting and joking your sorrows away (and why it's so hard to stop doing it). Before we get into it, however, I want to drop one last screenshot, because it just fits this current situation oh too well, and the irony made me giggle:

Okay, enough social media plugging, let's get back to business.

As you can see, I am quite active when it comes to tweeting about my struggles with mental illness. Which, in this day and age, really isn't a rarity. You just need to take one look at Twitter, Instagram, Reddit, TikTok or any dank meme, to see that joking, down-playing and iRoniCalLy tAkiNg tHe piSs out of personal problems and issues, has become quite the trend for millennials in general. Once again, I'm not the only one guilty of doing that.

Had you asked me a year ago whether or not I thought that constantly ridiculing very serious and traumatic incidents in my life was maybe a bit worrisome, I would have probably gotten very defensive and told you that "it's called coping, okay?” Because hey, making jokes and laughing about the bad things in your life gives them less power over you and helps distract from the pain. And that's good, right? That's what you're supposed to do. Right?

Well.

Dealing with your own issues, whether that's big or small ones, is a very personal process that, quite frankly, no one really gets to have a say in except for you. And yeah, sure, as we all learned by watching Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, ridiculing and laughing about something that really scares you, loosens the hold said fear has on you and makes it easier to deal with. However, there is a very big difference between the boggards of life (if you don’t get that reference, you clearly weren’t around when J.K. Rowling wasn’t problematic and transphobic yet) and medical mental health issues and disorders.

I am no doctor, I am aware of that, but even I know that having an ironic laugh about a shitty day is something very different to basically verbally abusing yourself and trying to make your own depression or anxiety relatable to ... well, to whom, actually? Random people on the internet? That are never going to really care or react to your self-deprecating jokes? That doesn’t seem like it’ll do much now, does it.

And that’s kind of the whole point, if you’re really honest with yourself. Social media has made it oh too easy to simply shout those invasive, painful and scary thoughts and feelings out into a void before they eat you alive. The thing about a void is, though: You're still alone in it. It doesn't answer you back. It's empty. And it will make you feel that exact emptiness inside you, too. It poses no comfort, it doesn't offer advice, it doesn't give you a hug, a shoulder to cry on or anything, really. It may swallow your word vomit whenever it bubbles out of you, but it will still leave you feeling drained and hollow because there's nothing you get from it in return.

Twitter, Instagram and every other easy-to-access-and-rant-on social media platform lets you dump your initial hurt all over it, but it doesn't lessen the pain. And neither do the self-deprecating jokes and dank depression memes.

I’ll say this once again, for the people in the back (me, I’m talking about myself here, I am the people in the back): Being mentally ill isn't a quirky personality trait, and making a lifestyle and constant comedy show out of is never, ever going to solve your problems and make you feel any better. You'll still be miserable if you don't actually work on solving your issues because you're too busy letting them define you.

Depression is not an aesthetic. Anxiety is not a competition. Panic attacks aren't funny memes.

I'm not saying that you can't and shouldn't joke or laugh about your own problems. Humor can be a very cathartic thing, I'm the living example of it. But staying put in your depression, anxiety or whatever issues you're dealing with, and trying to make a comedy skit out of it every time someone asks you how you are, is only going to make you more comfortable and validated in your own misery. And there are way better places to be comfortable in than that. Trust me.

You are not your mental illness. You are not your disorder. Those things will never define who you are. They're a part of you, yes, but they aren't you. You will always be the one that calls the shots and you always, always have choice and hope on your side. Even when it feels like you are alone and being swallowed whole by the darkness, it is never too early or late to get help. It might feel insincere, it might feel terrifying and impossible. But it never is. That's exactly what your disorders and problems want you to think. But they are wrong.

I had to accept that too. I had to accept that, once again, I wasn't as special of a snowflake as my mental illness painted me to be. By doing that, it simply did what any mental illness does best: it isolated me even more. With every joke, every #relatable tweet, every "lol" behind yet another truly worrisome sentence, I sunk back further and further into the cocoon of loneliness. And, plot twist, you can't finger-gun your way out of depression. Sorry, babes.

So, every time you’re about to chuck out another "I wanna die lmao" in a casual conversation with friends or yet another self-deprecating tweet, just take a second to ask yourself: Is this really a way of coping? Is it really making me feel better? Or is it actually a subconscious, desperate attempt of getting someone, anyone, to see that I'm slowly breaking on the inside?

Again, I don't want this to come across as a self-help guide on how to battle your mental illness. Not at all. If anything, the reason I phrase this blog and all my entries the way I do, is because it's what I need to keep telling myself, every time I revert back to old habits. It's a reminder. For me and, in case you want it to be, for you too. I'm not here to lecture anyone. Well, maybe myself, a little. But everyone makes their own choices and I'm no one's guide or saviour, nor do I want to be. However, I made a promise to myself to really commit to this blog thing, so here I am. I'm my own harshest critic, always have been, so if anything, this is a call out post for my own self-deprecating habits.

Receiving that message from my friend made me realize that even though I would have never admitted it to myself at the time, all those tweets and casually dropped “I’m gonna kms haha lol”s were nothing but very badly disguised cries for help. I was just too much of a coward to admit that to myself. Okay, maybe coward is a bit of a harsh word. I don’t want to diminish my fear or vulnerability just because I know the reason for it now. It’s just that looking back at my own denial, and still sometimes catching myself in moments where I slip back into this behaviour, makes me want to grab myself by the shoulders and shake me until I snap out of it.

Which is why I’m just going to do this through my blog now – for past, present and also future me: Get it together. Stop yourself in your own tracks when you’re about to word-vomit up another cryptic tweet or self-deprecating joke. Instead, talk to a friend. Type up a text. Call someone. Schedule a therapy session. It's always gonna help, way better than forcing out a laugh about something that is in no way a laughable matter. Reaching out is not going to fix everything immediately, but in the long run it will. And that's what we're in for, after all.

You can ask any of my friends and they will tell you that whenever they express feelings of insecurity about sharing their worries to me, I will be quick to stop them in the middle of their sentence to tell them that they can, and always should, talk to me. About any- and everything, be that day or night. It is something that I have been preaching for God knows how long, and I genuinely mean it, too. So, I’ve kind of just been a huge hypocrite by never listening to my own advice. And I knew that. Deep down, I always knew that I was ignoring the exact thing I kept telling the people I loved to do too. And what can I say, I hate being a hypocrite.

I’m not saying that any of this is easy. Hell, it can be the hardest God damn thing ever, especially when you’re as emotionally repressed and inept as I am most of the time. And yes, venting and shit-posting about how much you’ve been crying all day or how much you “hate your own life” might work as a quick fix to let off some of that frustration steam. But it’s never going to actually repair the underlying issues that cause you to feel this shitty in the first place. The only thing that’s gonna do that, is actually talking to people. Whether that is family, friends or a therapist, doesn’t matter. Because other than an Instagram story that disappears after 24 hours, or a tweet that has a 280-character limit, real life people who care about you will actually take the time to listen, say something in return, and provide the comfort and open ear no social media platform or meme ever could. You know that. And I know that too.

So, I want to try and quit lmao-ing my way through life and instead do what I actually, secretly know I am trying to do anyway with all those self-deprecating attempts at morbid comedy: ask for help. No lol’s needed.

#therapy #introspection #social media #oversharing #self-hatred #self-deprecation #self-deprecating humor #mental illness

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