The Red Soldier: The Crimson Prophecy

ISSUE #3

27/12/1943

Bullets flew past (Y/N) (L/N)'s head as he tried to tighten the second-hand helmet Bucky had given him so that it fit his head properly. He wasn't supposed to be there. He was the medical officer, he should have been at the base, treating his patients and making sure those in recovery were receiving the best care. Instead, he was crouched in a ditch, nothing but a pistol to protect himself from the Nazis who had ambushed their medical supply run.

He stood up, his pistol fully loaded as he aimed at the enemy. 'Get down Dr (L/N)!' the man beside him scolded, 'let the soldiers take care of it.'

'I know how to shoot a fucking gun, Hudson,' he spat, shooting two Nazis in the face before ducking down once more.

'That was definitely a fluke,' the soldier beside him stated, lifting his machine gun, and standing up, 'just stay down. I'll take care of these and Seargent Barnes can come rescue y...' A dozen bullets shot through the air implanting themselves in the soldier's leg. He fell back into the ditch, squirming in pain.

(Y/N) panicked. He'd never had to treat anyone on the field, he was used to working in a clean tent with completely sterile equipment. 'Stop fucking wriggling round!' he shouted at him, 'the more you move the more blood you're going to lose!' (Y/N)'s helmet was falling over his brow, obscuring his view, but he was too afraid to remove it. Artillery smoke filled the air, obscuring the moonlight which would have been useful in assessing the injury.

'Am I going to die Doc?' the yank asked, 'am I gone?'

'No,' (Y/N) shook his head, pulling the kit bag off of his back and undoing the buckle of his belt, 'no, I can save you.' He wrapped his belt tightly around the soldier's leg, just above the entry wounds, hoping it would be enough to stop any major bleeding.

'(Y/N)! Thank God, I found you!' a familiar voice shouted in his ear, 'are you alright?'

'Sergeant Barnes I'm busy,' (Y/N) yelled, despite feeling comforted by the fact he had a friend by his side.

'Give me his gun Dr (L/N),' Barnes told him, 'Might need the extra ammo if I'm keeping the two of you safe.' (Y/N) nodded, sliding over his patient's machine gun to Bucky. As Sergeant Barnes shot at the oncoming Nazi soldiers, (Y/N) tried his hardest to save the bleeding man before him.

'It's going to be alright,' he told his patient between panicked breaths as he tightened his belt around the patient's leg, 'you good at hopping?'

'Don't joke with me (L/N),' he mustered a laugh. The sound of bullets battering (Y/N)'s ears increased, almost deafening him. 'Bucky!' he yelled, 'Buck, I can't concentrate! It's too loud!' With each explosion his heart began to beat faster, causing the forceps in his right hand to shake uncontrollably.

'It's alright, (Y/N). It's alright,' James Barnes told him, resting his weapons on the ground, and clasping his hands over (Y/N)'s ears. The wounded soldier groaned in agony as he attempted to remove the bullets from his leg. Dr (L/N) took solace in this, it meant his patient was still alive.

It was when the groaning stopped that he panicked. A single bullet soared through the air, passing through Private Hudson's skull and showering (Y/N) (L/N) with fresh blood.

(Y/N) dropped his forceps, reaching for his pistol and standing up, aiming his weapon at their assailants. Sergeant Barnes took his hands from (Y/N)'s ears and went to reach for his own gun, but he was met with a machine gun butt to his face, busting his nose and knocking him out cold. Instinctively, (Y/N) dropped his weapon, falling to his knees and reaching towards Sergeant Barnes, anxious to see whether or not he still had a pulse.