Bring Me Home // Bucky Barnes

Chapter VII - Before We Began

Blood, dirt and the smell of rotting flesh: Elizabeth was nauseated immediately upon entering the medical tents. Men groaned in pain as fevers climbed and nurses, covered in dried blood and scrambling to share out the supplies they had remaining, rushed between the cots, checking the tags hanging from the necks of the wounded to know who they were treating.

"Peggy... these men. How has this place functioned? Their wounds need cleaning, this system needs organising. It's a mess." She glanced at the pile of half filled notes on the men in the tent before picking up the first one. "More men are going to die in here if we don't do something and do it quickly."

Peggy smiled at Elizabeth. She was already tying her hair back and pulling off her coat, rolling up her sleeves to get stuck in. It was evident even now, when her mind was surely wandering and searching for a trace of her soldier in this chaos, Elizabeth was the right choice for this role.

"That's why you're here Elizabeth. If you want to get started I can see if I can find that Bucky of yours?" She left the tent as Elizabeth got straight to work.

Circulating the room, checking tags and clipping the appropriate notes to the end of each bed, she introduced herself to every soldier who had managed to stay awake through their pain. Some managed muffled greetings back, others just cried in pain. With every tag she checked the pit in her stomach seemed to deepen.

Weeping wounds were cleaned and dressed as she went, soldiers thanked her and the other nurses accepted her in immediately, grateful for the extra hands.

"Miss? I'm sorry, I don't know your name, can you move this please? Take it to the sinks, you're going to need hot water and soap and I am going to need you to wash every last piece of equipment. Once that's done I want them organised and packed away in that chest." She pointed at the box that held a red cross as she barked out her orders. "After that is complete this man here will need stitches above his eye and an additional dose of pain meds. Write it down once it's done. Write everything down."

The small, blonde woman stared in awe at Elizabeth before scuttling off to do as she was asked. No one had taken charge here. No one had known how to. Elizabeth had taken the role with ease: the firm tone and the cut of her voice commanded the respect of the women she now instructed while the softness of her eyes and her demeanour cushioned any potential for derision. There was an acceptance in the tents as the nurses began to move as a team.

Within an hour there was a semblance of order. The nurses had all revelled in the new found control that seemed to seep into the room when Elizabeth was present. She mixed with the nurses easily, taking names and giving offers of advice. She made note of who needed new uniforms and who required rest and she continued to provide care and comfort for the men around them. The need for decisive leadership was clear upon arrival and Elizabeth felt like she was fulfilling something. She was doing something she could be proud of: something she could, perhaps, one day tell her children about. But behind that sense of achievement was a sadness that she couldn't shake.

Every single man in those cots now had a chart, and the nurses around her were slowly going through the tents and updating notes on every soldier. Every single set of dog tags had been removed from the neck of the man who held them and attached to the respective chart. Every single tag had been checked by Elizabeth herself. Bucky was not here.

While Elizabeth spoke with one of the nurses about the organisation of scalpels, bandages and medication, assigning spaces and chests for each item before Howard and the Colonel brought in the newest supplies, Peggy approached with a small pile of items. Elizabeth could feel the ice that ran through her heart. She could feel the splinters breaking off and embedding themselves in her lungs, in her throat.

"Peggy, please don't..." she whispered.

The young nurse in front of her stepped aside, spotting the contents of Peggy's pile and uncomfortable with the idea of prying on this exchange.

Peggy held the pile of items out towards Elizabeth and when her hands did not move to collect them, she sighed. Elizabeth's knees buckled as she saw the hesitation in Peggy's eyes, the downturn of the corner of her lips, the ghost of words she had yet to speak, and she grasped the side of the nearest cot.

"Elizabeth. I am so sorry. Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes was declared missing in action two weeks ago. He is presumed dead. The Colonel, he had these... I requested they be given to you and he agreed."

Elizabeth could see her hands moving, reaching out for the jacket and book Peggy held but she could feel nothing. As her eyes fell on the battered copy of The Hobbit she heard a small sob escape. Although it sounded like her, she felt nothing leave her. She saw the water marks of falling tears. She could taste the salty sting of her sadness. Opening the book she saw her own messages, the scrawled notes of wonder and confusion. Beside them was his own writing. Answers and notes and comments of admiration for her. He was answering all of her questions just as she had hoped he would.

She turned the page, more tears spilling, and a single sheet of paper fell to her feet. Slowly, painfully, she crouched down to collect it, to see what it could be and her heart shattered completely when she saw the beautifully careful handwriting of James Buchanan Barnes, the man she had lost before he was ever really hers, as he told her how he felt.

*

My Lizzie,

So much is happening out here. In a couple of weeks we should be moving out, leaving base, but first there's a recon mission. I can't tell you much but it's big...

Remember when we met, you asked if war scared me? Well, Lizzie, I'm pretty scared now. Not because of the fighting, or the bloodshed. I'm scared that I won't see you smile again, or that I won't hear your laugh. I really do wish I'd met you before this all started. I wish I'd known you for so much longer. Then I'd at least have more than one night of dancing to remember when I needed something good to cling to.

I guess what I'm trying to say Doll, is that I'm clinging to you. Maybe this is presumptive of me and maybe when you read this you'll write to tell me our letters were just a simple act of kindness on your part, or maybe you won't write at all, but Elizabeth, I just want to see you again and I wish, my God do I wish, I wish I'd done what I so desperately wanted to do and kissed you goodnight after our dance.

I'm so sorry this letter is going to get to you late, but I refuse to send it until I'm back. Because that way, if I don't send it now, I have to get back to send it. After all, i can't leave the best girl in NYC behind without telling her she's all I think about.

I'm yours Doll. until the end of the line.

Bucky

Her tears fell silently, staining the page, as her hands shook. In an instant she became fragile. Splinters of her mind picked at the misty memories of that night from months ago. How safe she had felt with her head gently resting on his chest, his arms wrapped so carefully around her. She pictured the striking brilliance of his blue eyes, a blue she would have willingly drowned in forever. She imagined the rumbling chuckle of his laugh as they watched the Expo. She felt every ounce of pain she had been pushing aside and she crumbled.

"I lost him Peggy. I lost him before I even had the chance to know him." Her voice was barely a whisper, barely a cry, barely a voice.

Peggy wrapped her arms around Elizabeth and held her as her quiet sobbing grew into despair. Silently, Peggy let a few of her own tears escape her. Although she had anticipated this fact, it did not make the truth any easier. It did not make breaking this woman's heart any easier.

Approaching the tent with a chirpy whistle and a swing to his step, Howard Stark was blissfully unaware of the situation at hand. So blissfully unaware, in fact, that the sight of these two women - both so strong and independent - embraced in quiet cries stopped him in his tracks. He knew instantly.

"Come on Ladies," he soothed, "I think we all need a drink."