They got out into the guardroom by the simple expedient of Peggy screaming at the top of her lungs until the guards stormed in to shut her up. She wasn’t particularly musically inclined, but her mother had thought singing lessons were suitable for young ladies and she could produce significant volume when it suited her purposes, even if she would never perform at La Scala. The guards, who were not precisely mental giants, both came in at once.
Then they had most of their gear back and Peggy would never have expected to be so relieved to see her boots, which were half a size too large and tended to give her blisters. The mere fact of no longer being in her sock feet made her feel unutterably better. Barnes seemed similarly pleased to have his belt and especially his blue coat. Their weapons weren’t in the cabinet, which struck Peggy as a rare moment of sense on Hydra’s part, but it hardly mattered since the guards had both been armed.
“All right,” she said as Barnes emerged from the cell block where he’d dragged the corpses. “You’ll have to lead the way, Sergeant; I was too disoriented to remember how we came in.” Hydra had a number of standard base layouts; this wasn’t one of them, being a German installation they’d appropriated rather than purpose-built.
“Yeah,” Barnes said. “Look, Carter—”
“If we really must have this conversation, I suggest we do it when we’re out of here,” Peggy said.
Barnes blew out a long breath and repeated, “Yeah.”
The corridor outside was empty. Barnes insisted on going first, and Peggy didn’t argue because she knew his coat had some of Howard’s clever armor built into it.
They ran into trouble almost immediately, three Hydra soldiers with exquisitely bad timing turning the corner just as she and Barnes reached it, too close to be shot safely. Peggy didn’t recognize any of them, but she derived immense satisfaction from kicking one between the legs nonetheless. He made a peculiar choking noise and crumpled, clutching himself; Peggy kicked him in the temple for insurance and turned to discover Barnes briskly strangling a second soldier while the third lay motionless. “Carter,” Barnes said, and Peggy stabbed the man in the liver, twisting to ensure he’d bleed to death rapidly while Barnes covered his mouth. When he went limp, Barnes dropped him. “Where’d you learn that one?”
“I had my early training in the SOE,” Peggy said as they jogged down the hall. “They call it the Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare for a reason.”
Barnes snorted. “Remind me to tell Steve that steppin’ out on you would be a bad idea.”
*
By herself Peggy wouldn’t have heard the movement; she’d begun to suspect that Barnes’ senses were much sharper than he normally let on, which was...interesting. He turned his head sharply and grabbed her forearm to yank her into a supply closet, but as soon as they were inside he let go and swung the door silently closed.
“What did you hear?” Peggy breathed.
“Someone sneakin’ up on us,” Barnes said at the same volume, and waved her to stand behind the door. He pressed his ear to the panel. Peggy tried not to breathe too loudly.
Then suddenly Barnes’ shoulders relaxed. “Thank fuck,” he said in a normal voice, and stepped away from the door to open it again. Peggy was only halfway through her alarmed exclamation when from outside she heard, “Bucky, thank God, where’s Peggy?”
Steve looked, for him, awful. Peggy thought that part of it was the last effects of the head wound that had started all this in the first place, but mostly he looked terrified—though you’d have to know what he normally looked like in a fight, utterly controlled and confident, to see it. Peggy watched relief hit him like a sandbag when he could see them both, and she desperately wanted to throw herself into his arms and sob, but the middle of a sneak escape from a Hydra base was hardly the time. “I can honestly say I’ve never been so happy to see you,” she said instead, and Steve smiled like the sun.
“Likewise,” he said.
“You didn’t come in here alone, did you?” Barnes demanded.
“I’m not an idiot, Buck,” Steve said. “The guys are waiting for the all-clear.”
“Good,” Barnes said. “Get ‘em in here.”
Steve frowned and said, “Phillips told me to get out as soon as we had you.”
“Phillips can go jump in a lake,” said Barnes grimly. “Me and Carter got some scores to settle.”
*
The leutnent was not in the infirmary; they ran him to ground at last in officers’ quarters, of which he seemed to be the only resident. He must have heard them coming because he had his pistol in his hand when Steve broke the door in, but he hadn’t had time to get dressed; he’d been lying on his bed in trousers, nursing two spectacular black eyes and what she suspected was a broken nose.
Steve relieved the leutnent of his weapon and swept his legs out from under him in one casual motion, then pressed a boot to his sternum. Peggy smiled at him in satisfaction as he paled. “I’m so sorry, leutnent,” she said sweetly, “but I’m afraid your hospitality just wasn’t up to our standards. But we insist that we be allowed to return the favor.” He had not killed himself yet; maybe he was one of Hydra’s occasional cowards.
He called her a truly vile name and screamed when Barnes stomped hard on one of his hands.
And then, panting, he said to Steve, “Tell me, is she deine Hure? If not, I must apologize. It is not right that a sergeant before his captain goes.”
“What?” Steve demanded, and the leutnent grinned at him.
“Heil Hydra,” he said, and bit down; there was no saving him, even if Peggy had been inclined to try. He would have been a valuable source of information but she couldn’t find it in herself to care.
When the leutnent’s choking was done, a terrible silence fell, broken only by the sounds of Dernier in the corridor, setting his charges. Steve turned to Peggy with fear on his face and said, “Peggy.”
“He didn’t,” she said, but she couldn’t meet his eyes.
FILL: When It's Over, I Might Dance 5/?
Then they had most of their gear back and Peggy would never have expected to be so relieved to see her boots, which were half a size too large and tended to give her blisters. The mere fact of no longer being in her sock feet made her feel unutterably better. Barnes seemed similarly pleased to have his belt and especially his blue coat. Their weapons weren’t in the cabinet, which struck Peggy as a rare moment of sense on Hydra’s part, but it hardly mattered since the guards had both been armed.
“All right,” she said as Barnes emerged from the cell block where he’d dragged the corpses. “You’ll have to lead the way, Sergeant; I was too disoriented to remember how we came in.” Hydra had a number of standard base layouts; this wasn’t one of them, being a German installation they’d appropriated rather than purpose-built.
“Yeah,” Barnes said. “Look, Carter—”
“If we really must have this conversation, I suggest we do it when we’re out of here,” Peggy said.
Barnes blew out a long breath and repeated, “Yeah.”
The corridor outside was empty. Barnes insisted on going first, and Peggy didn’t argue because she knew his coat had some of Howard’s clever armor built into it.
They ran into trouble almost immediately, three Hydra soldiers with exquisitely bad timing turning the corner just as she and Barnes reached it, too close to be shot safely. Peggy didn’t recognize any of them, but she derived immense satisfaction from kicking one between the legs nonetheless. He made a peculiar choking noise and crumpled, clutching himself; Peggy kicked him in the temple for insurance and turned to discover Barnes briskly strangling a second soldier while the third lay motionless. “Carter,” Barnes said, and Peggy stabbed the man in the liver, twisting to ensure he’d bleed to death rapidly while Barnes covered his mouth. When he went limp, Barnes dropped him. “Where’d you learn that one?”
“I had my early training in the SOE,” Peggy said as they jogged down the hall. “They call it the Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare for a reason.”
Barnes snorted. “Remind me to tell Steve that steppin’ out on you would be a bad idea.”
*
By herself Peggy wouldn’t have heard the movement; she’d begun to suspect that Barnes’ senses were much sharper than he normally let on, which was...interesting. He turned his head sharply and grabbed her forearm to yank her into a supply closet, but as soon as they were inside he let go and swung the door silently closed.
“What did you hear?” Peggy breathed.
“Someone sneakin’ up on us,” Barnes said at the same volume, and waved her to stand behind the door. He pressed his ear to the panel. Peggy tried not to breathe too loudly.
Then suddenly Barnes’ shoulders relaxed. “Thank fuck,” he said in a normal voice, and stepped away from the door to open it again. Peggy was only halfway through her alarmed exclamation when from outside she heard, “Bucky, thank God, where’s Peggy?”
Steve looked, for him, awful. Peggy thought that part of it was the last effects of the head wound that had started all this in the first place, but mostly he looked terrified—though you’d have to know what he normally looked like in a fight, utterly controlled and confident, to see it. Peggy watched relief hit him like a sandbag when he could see them both, and she desperately wanted to throw herself into his arms and sob, but the middle of a sneak escape from a Hydra base was hardly the time. “I can honestly say I’ve never been so happy to see you,” she said instead, and Steve smiled like the sun.
“Likewise,” he said.
“You didn’t come in here alone, did you?” Barnes demanded.
“I’m not an idiot, Buck,” Steve said. “The guys are waiting for the all-clear.”
“Good,” Barnes said. “Get ‘em in here.”
Steve frowned and said, “Phillips told me to get out as soon as we had you.”
“Phillips can go jump in a lake,” said Barnes grimly. “Me and Carter got some scores to settle.”
*
The leutnent was not in the infirmary; they ran him to ground at last in officers’ quarters, of which he seemed to be the only resident. He must have heard them coming because he had his pistol in his hand when Steve broke the door in, but he hadn’t had time to get dressed; he’d been lying on his bed in trousers, nursing two spectacular black eyes and what she suspected was a broken nose.
Steve relieved the leutnent of his weapon and swept his legs out from under him in one casual motion, then pressed a boot to his sternum. Peggy smiled at him in satisfaction as he paled. “I’m so sorry, leutnent,” she said sweetly, “but I’m afraid your hospitality just wasn’t up to our standards. But we insist that we be allowed to return the favor.” He had not killed himself yet; maybe he was one of Hydra’s occasional cowards.
He called her a truly vile name and screamed when Barnes stomped hard on one of his hands.
And then, panting, he said to Steve, “Tell me, is she deine Hure? If not, I must apologize. It is not right that a sergeant before his captain goes.”
“What?” Steve demanded, and the leutnent grinned at him.
“Heil Hydra,” he said, and bit down; there was no saving him, even if Peggy had been inclined to try. He would have been a valuable source of information but she couldn’t find it in herself to care.
When the leutnent’s choking was done, a terrible silence fell, broken only by the sounds of Dernier in the corridor, setting his charges. Steve turned to Peggy with fear on his face and said, “Peggy.”
“He didn’t,” she said, but she couldn’t meet his eyes.
“Peggy,” Steve repeated.
“He didn’t,” said Barnes quietly. “I did.”