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January, 1945
Y/n could feel it. The tensions in the base building up like a flooded pool up to everyone's necks. If they didn't act sooner, HYDRA would deliver the final blow that would put the rest of the world to annihilation.
At least, that was what those bastards wanted them to believe. And for some of her fellow soldiers, they considered it to be a wavering possibility.
Steve had reassured her countless times that the battle was going well, and Schmidt was losing hope as they continued to knock down HYDRA bases like dominos.
So why did something still feel wrong? Like there was agony that lay ahead despite their likely success in winning the war.
Winning any war came with its sacrifices, she supposed.
Y/n understood now; what it meant to be a soldier. What her father and Steve's father had meant when they talked about the first war and the pieces they brought back that engraved permanently in their souls. So far they'd won every battle that Steve led them through. The other divisions began to question the degree and scale of Steve's missions, believing that they were just a quick "in and out job" every time because they had Steve.
If only it were that way.
The other day Y/n had witnessed one of her fellow soldiers collapse in front of her. The gunshot had found its way around the bulletproof vest into his shoulder. All she could do was apply pressure to the wound with both of her hands, screaming for a medic until her throat felt raw while Bucky covered for them both.
She remembered her thoughts becoming static, Bucky's hands pulling her up by the shoulders, for her to let the soldier go.
"We gotta get outta here, Y/n. There's nothing we can do for him." Bucky's voice echoed in her head, sounding as reluctant as she was, but he'd had already forced himself to let go. The man had lost far too much blood by then. She knew the words had pained him as much as leaving the soldier was for her, but he was just another casualty. One out of dozens from that day across the battlefield.
The battle didn't seem to end at the field. Coming back from a mission to the debriefing table was like entering a high school lunch fight. Men fighting over who could've saved who, who should've done what and who deserved to live more than the other. Steve and Peggy's efforts to contain certain soldiers became pointless. They were all human after all, war tends to bring out the worst in everybody.
The noise and commotion had winded her up here in her room, sitting on the splintered floor with her back pressed again the side of the bed.Half of the cheap whiskey remaining in the bottle sat weakly in her hand.
She knew drinking like this would cause the negative thoughts she could suppress when sober to arise. Things had become so much better when her and Steve first reunited with Bucky. The three would fight alongside one another, come out victoriously hand in hand. As much as she hated to admit it, their comfort wasn't always enough. The fight was getting worse, HYDRA had developed better defense, and while they'd always lose in the end, there was one hell of a price to pay.
