Prompt Post 1

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At least one of the characters in your prompt must have been in Captain America: The First Avenger or Captain America: The Winter Soldier.

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Update, April 22, 2014:
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Fill: And I Am Always with You, Part 49

[lauralot]

It is warm inside the burn unit. The Soldier is not sure if the heat is by design or a result of the door of the hospital room being closed, but whatever the reason the air is almost stifling. He considers removing his jacket, but the temperature is of no current danger to him and he doesn't want to waste the time to do so. It is also possible that the heat is at least partially the result of emotional overload, and in that circumstance the layers over his body make no difference.

Rumlow is unconscious. He is cuffed by the ankles to the hospital bed. His ankles and feet are not burned; his boots must have protected the skin there while he was trapped and smoldering in the debris of the Triskelion. The rest of his legs, his arms, hands, neck, and his face are bandaged. The bandaging may extend below the hospital gown; the Soldier does not check.

"Wake up," the Soldier says.

Rumlow does not wake.

Outside the door, the Soldier is certain, on the other side of the windows to the hospital hallway, curtains drawn, there are police officers or government agents. He came in through the exterior window. There was no one guarding the fire escape, which would suggest that the security in the hall is periodically checking inside the room in case someone enters as the Soldier had. The Soldier can disable anyone who comes in, but he does not want to unless there is no other recourse.

He needs to stop thinking in terms of want. When he returns to HYDRA, wanting will not be allowed.

"Wake up." The Soldier is trembling, waves of relief and fear crashing and mingling throughout his being. It is not unlike the sensations when he was first reunited with Steve in the tower.

Rumlow does not wake.

The Soldier's left hand, the only steady part of him, closes on Rumlow's shoulder. His grip is firm, but not tight. He does not want to break bones or inadvertently slough off the skin beneath the bandaging. Vaguely, he knows of treatment for burns: for the minor ones, cool water and sterile bandages are utilized. With severe burns, the dead flesh is brushed or cut away. He believes new skin may be stapled in its place.

He wonders how it feels to wear someone else's skin. Does it change the person beneath it? He imagines cutting away his flesh and stitching a decent human in its place, inch by inch. The Soldier doubts it would take. He is rotten inside and the infection would seep into the skin, decaying it from underneath.

The commanding officer does not stir when the Soldier pushes on his shoulder. A second, more forceful push also provokes no response.

Rumlow is connected to multiple IVs and the Soldier turns his attention to the bags the lines lead up to. Perhaps something there is keeping him unconscious, the way cryostasis would put the Soldier to sleep. The names on some bags are familiar: saline is a substance in tears, he knows, and is probably not the thing keeping the man unconscious. Some of the fluids are antibiotics, the same sort he was given in the tower. When he reaches the unfamiliar substances, he closes the clamps on those lines to prevent the liquids from continuing to drip into his commander's body.

The Soldier relocates to a corner of the room which is not immediately visible from the doorway and waits.

He is shaking.

He half-expects to hear or see the hallucination of Steve again, begging him to return to the tower. He waits for the compulsion to seek out Barton and Romanoff and ask to go back to Manhattan. Neither occurs. He is not without fear—fear of punishment, fear of losing his horrible and yet compelling autonomy—but they are good people and they do not deserve him, and even his subconscious appears to acknowledge that fact.

Rumlow stirs. There is a sound in his throat, low and weak. A sound of pain.

It had not occurred to the Soldier that the substances keeping Rumlow asleep may have also kept him from feeling the burns. He had never been given pain relief—what was the use, when his body would repair itself so rapidly?—so the thought of it had not crossed his mind. He does not want to hurt Rumlow. His stomach clenches as he steps into the commanding officer's line of sight.

Rumlow's breathing is erratic but he falls silent when he spots the Soldier. His eyes are wide, tense, thinking. The Soldier can imagine his thoughts. The helicarriers went down. The strike team failed as the asset failed, and the blame for the team's failure rests on Rumlow's shoulders. And now he wakes to find the asset staring down at him. It could mean rescue. It could mean execution.

The Soldier tries to recall the words the doctors would say to help him when he was coming out of the ice. "You're safe," he says. "Everything is all right. No harm will come to you."

He is still thinking, the Soldier can tell, but the apprehension is lessened. Or perhaps it has simply been replaced with pain. He feels another pang of guilt for bringing harm to his commanding officer, but pain brings order—HYDRA is broken and needs order now more than ever—and it is hard to be upset when his entire being is overcome with relief at this return to the familiar.

"Water." Rumlow's voice is hoarse. It is an order and a test, to see if the Soldier will obey him.

And of course the Soldier will obey him. Had the command been to throw himself out the window, he still would have obeyed. To have orders again, purpose, to have a task to fulfill without even thinking or feeling—his legs nearly give out from under him.

But they do not, because he is fulfilling an order and that would be counterproductive.

There is a tray attached to Rumlow's bed and a paper cup rests on it. He takes it, fills it with water, returns to the bedside. His metal hand, cool and hopefully soothing, works its way behind his commander's head, gently lifting. He holds the cup to the man's lips the way Rumlow had once held a mug of soup to the asset's.

"I can remove you from this location," he says as Rumlow drinks. "Any safe house or HYDRA base you are aware of, I can take you there. Either now or I can return with others to make the extraction smoother. Tell them I came to you, I listen to you. You will not be punished." The strike team may have failed, but to have such command of the asset will be valuable to HYDRA. The asset is not programmed to seek out other field agents; such a strong connection would have to be imprinted and that is only done for handlers. It will make Rumlow special, valuable. It may make him the Soldier's next assigned handler.

As an asset, he did not like things. That was not his place. But he was allowed preferences: his rifle, a general plan of how to proceed in a mission—off the field he followed orders, but on it, everyone mostly kept out of his way—a choice of the weapons strapped about him. He thinks he preferred some agents over others, and he believes he preferred Rumlow.

From what the Soldier can remember, the commander is efficient and skilled. He is not necessarily kind but that is not required, and any cruelty on Rumlow's part never registered until the asset was a person anyway. And he was not always cold. He saved the Soldier from death by hypothermia and gave him soup. He would stroke the Soldier's hair if he fulfilled an objective properly. Once, the Soldier hazily recalls, he had been bleeding and Rumlow wrapped the injury rather than waiting for the medical team to arrive. He had patted the asset's shoulder on one mission, after the target had been eliminated, and had said, "Perfect shot."

Above all else, Rumlow is familiar. The Soldier is capable of returning to HYDRA without him, but there is some comfort in the thought that a recognizable face will be accompanying him, even if he will forget ever knowing it.

"Is this plan acceptable?" he asks once the cup is empty, placing it on the tray and carefully lowering Rumlow's head back to the pillow.

The man moves as if to nod before he freezes, a sound aborted in his throat as tension shoots through his body. "Yeah." His voice is faint, eyes still calculating. "Where've you been?"

He has not asked the date and seems aware of the passage of time since the helicarriers fell. At least some of Rumlow's time in this hospital has been spent conscious. He was likely interrogated regarding HYDRA's plans and his role. "Manhattan. With Captain America and his allies." Rumlow tenses and he adds, "They do not accompany me. I left."

"You left to come here." His voice is strained, but there is a twitch to his face under the bandaging and this is the most light his eyes have had since waking.

"Да. Yes." This commander does not like Russian, he reminds himself.

Rumlow laughs. It is a harsh sound cut short with a gasp of breath and a curse, but he has made his commander happy, so the Soldier is happy as well.

"C'mere." The fingers of the hand nearest to the Soldier twitch. It is a stilted movement and he wonders how much mobility the digits retain. Scar tissue is immobilizing.

The Soldier's breathing catches in his chest as he realizes what Rumlow is indicating. His eyes are hot with contentment, legs weak, and he allows himself to sink to his knees, pushing his head gently against that hand.

His hair is stroked. It is a jerky, halting motion that does not match the touches he remembers, a process he did not realize he missed until yesterday, but it is soft and soothing and requires no thought or feeling on his part. He leans into the contact, eyes leaking. There is a noise low in his throat, shaky and choked with relief.

The angle is awkward and the Soldier shifts, pulling himself up and kneeling on the bed itself, head resting on the sheets, pressing against Rumlow's hand with all the force he dares exert. It feels perfect. It feels like home.

Re: Fill: And I Am Always with You, Part 49

[(Anonymous)]

BUCKY NO
RUMLOW NO
LAURALOT YES

Re: Fill: And I Am Always with You, Part 49

[lauralot]

I need to have this comment rendered in cross stitch and displayed on my wall.

Re: Fill: And I Am Always with You, Part 49

[(Anonymous)]

I read this whole thing today, and it just cracked my chest open. Absolutely amazing, I can't wait to keep reading, thank you so much for writing this!

Re: Fill: And I Am Always with You, Part 49

[lauralot]

Thank you so much!