Two months later Cap and the Howlies liberate a small Austrian village from Hydra control. The villagers are grateful. They put the Howlies up at the inn, complimentary, like the beer downstairs in the inn’s pub. From the way some of the local women are eyeing them, Steve’s certain that at least one Howlie will be seeing a different kind of action tonight.
“To Captain Rogers!”
They always toast him whenever they have the chance. This time it’s Jacques who starts it, red beret askew. Steve dips his head modestly, a tiny smile on his lips. He’s embarrassed by the attention, but he’s also come to enjoy it.
“To you,” Steve counters, raising his tankard. “To all of you!”
There’s the roar of cheering and glasses clinking. Steve sips his beer politely. He doesn’t drink very much. He never had with his old body, and in this new body he doesn’t feel the effects like the others do. Another way he’s different, but this one he doesn’t mind. He has no reason to get drunk. His mind is clear as he kindly rejects several women’s advances.
The pub is full of light, and Steve watches Bucky sitting by himself across the room. Bucky sits by himself a lot these days. Steve watches as women sit beside him. Laughing, flirting, trying. Bucky plays the part admirably, as he always has, but his smile doesn’t meet his eyes. The women leave, disappointed.
Others have better luck. As the night progresses, Jim, Dum Dum, and Gabe each disappear with a comely partner. Monty heads upstairs to his room, alone. He has a wife waiting for him in England, and Steve’s never seen him be unfaithful. Bucky follows soon after, stiffly bidding Steve and Jacques goodnight. The celebration has died.
“I see the way you look at him.”
Jacques’ accent is thick, but he and the Howlies, with a lot of help from Gabe, have learned to communicate across the language barrier. Jacques’ English has become clearer, and Steve’s picked up some basic French.
“Pardon?”
Steve looks sharply at Jacques. His heart races. He’s given himself away. His insecurities about whether the Howlies would have liked him without his new body have mostly died, but he knows what they’ll think of him if they know this. Worse, if they find out about Bucky. Another thing Steve will have ruined for him.
“The way you look at Sergeant Barnes,” Jacques elaborates. “I understand.”
Come to think of it, Steve’s never seen Jacques looking at a woman. He’s never seen Jacques accept a proposition, or heard him talk about a woman waiting for him back home.
“You understand?” Steve asks carefully.
“Some men have women,” Jacques’ voice is soft. “And some, like us, have men.”
Like us.
“You should be more careful,” Steve warns. “Who you say that to.”
“James told me things, in the factory,” Jacques ignores Steve’s admonition. “When they would bring him back after they were done with him. He told me things about you. You helped him hold on as long as he did.”
A knot twists in the bottom of Steve’s stomach, like in his old body when he’d eaten something too sweet.
“What do you mean, after they were done with him?”
“Some of the guards took an interest in him,” Jacques’s voice is distant, his words rambling with drunken purpose. “I am not sure if any of the other prisoners figured it out, but I could see what was happening. I tried to help, but I could not stop it.”
The knot in Steve’s stomach has become a rock. They shouldn’t be talking about this, he thinks. It’s not fair to Bucky, who's been guarding himself so carefully from Steve. He’ll never forgive Steve, if he knows that Steve knows.
“He got very sick and stopped eating,” Jacques continues hazily. “He could no longer work, so they took him away to isolation. No one ever came back from isolation. I thought I would never see him again.”
“That’s enough.”
Steve stands. He’s horrified by the revelation, and he’s angry. He’s angry at himself for not understanding.
“You didn’t know,” Jacques finally catches up. “Bordel de merde, I thought he would have told you.”
“No. He didn’t,” Steve rubs a hand over his face. “Don’t tell anyone else.”
“Of course not,” Jacques sounds as horrified as Steve feels. “Jésus.”
Steve goes upstairs to his room. He’s in shock. He hadn’t known, how could he have known? How could he, if Bucky won’t talk to him?
Re: Fill: Wrong (5/?)
“To Captain Rogers!”
They always toast him whenever they have the chance. This time it’s Jacques who starts it, red beret askew. Steve dips his head modestly, a tiny smile on his lips. He’s embarrassed by the attention, but he’s also come to enjoy it.
“To you,” Steve counters, raising his tankard. “To all of you!”
There’s the roar of cheering and glasses clinking. Steve sips his beer politely. He doesn’t drink very much. He never had with his old body, and in this new body he doesn’t feel the effects like the others do. Another way he’s different, but this one he doesn’t mind. He has no reason to get drunk. His mind is clear as he kindly rejects several women’s advances.
The pub is full of light, and Steve watches Bucky sitting by himself across the room. Bucky sits by himself a lot these days. Steve watches as women sit beside him. Laughing, flirting, trying. Bucky plays the part admirably, as he always has, but his smile doesn’t meet his eyes. The women leave, disappointed.
Others have better luck. As the night progresses, Jim, Dum Dum, and Gabe each disappear with a comely partner. Monty heads upstairs to his room, alone. He has a wife waiting for him in England, and Steve’s never seen him be unfaithful. Bucky follows soon after, stiffly bidding Steve and Jacques goodnight. The celebration has died.
“I see the way you look at him.”
Jacques’ accent is thick, but he and the Howlies, with a lot of help from Gabe, have learned to communicate across the language barrier. Jacques’ English has become clearer, and Steve’s picked up some basic French.
“Pardon?”
Steve looks sharply at Jacques. His heart races. He’s given himself away. His insecurities about whether the Howlies would have liked him without his new body have mostly died, but he knows what they’ll think of him if they know this. Worse, if they find out about Bucky. Another thing Steve will have ruined for him.
“The way you look at Sergeant Barnes,” Jacques elaborates. “I understand.”
Come to think of it, Steve’s never seen Jacques looking at a woman. He’s never seen Jacques accept a proposition, or heard him talk about a woman waiting for him back home.
“You understand?” Steve asks carefully.
“Some men have women,” Jacques’ voice is soft. “And some, like us, have men.”
Like us.
“You should be more careful,” Steve warns. “Who you say that to.”
“James told me things, in the factory,” Jacques ignores Steve’s admonition. “When they would bring him back after they were done with him. He told me things about you. You helped him hold on as long as he did.”
A knot twists in the bottom of Steve’s stomach, like in his old body when he’d eaten something too sweet.
“What do you mean, after they were done with him?”
“Some of the guards took an interest in him,” Jacques’s voice is distant, his words rambling with drunken purpose. “I am not sure if any of the other prisoners figured it out, but I could see what was happening. I tried to help, but I could not stop it.”
The knot in Steve’s stomach has become a rock. They shouldn’t be talking about this, he thinks. It’s not fair to Bucky, who's been guarding himself so carefully from Steve. He’ll never forgive Steve, if he knows that Steve knows.
“He got very sick and stopped eating,” Jacques continues hazily. “He could no longer work, so they took him away to isolation. No one ever came back from isolation. I thought I would never see him again.”
“That’s enough.”
Steve stands. He’s horrified by the revelation, and he’s angry. He’s angry at himself for not understanding.
“You didn’t know,” Jacques finally catches up. “Bordel de merde, I thought he would have told you.”
“No. He didn’t,” Steve rubs a hand over his face. “Don’t tell anyone else.”
“Of course not,” Jacques sounds as horrified as Steve feels. “Jésus.”
Steve goes upstairs to his room. He’s in shock. He hadn’t known, how could he have known? How could he, if Bucky won’t talk to him?
But how could he not have seen?