February, 1944
“You must be the new Canadian soldier,” Captain Rogers said, extending his hand in welcome.
Logan grunted. He had seen the newsreels and the posters, he knew the man was handsome, but it was something else entirely to see him in person. The young Captain smiled at him.
“James, was it?” the Captain asked.
“You can call me Logan,” Logan replied as he grasped his hand.
The man had a firm grip and surprisingly soft hands given his work.
“Good,” said a burly red-headed man sporting an impressive handlebar mustache behind Rogers, “‘cause we already have two Jimmies.”
“I told you not to call me that,” scowled a shorter man next to him in a thick Brooklyn accent.
The man wore a dark blue jacket with a rifle slung over his chest. His dark brown hair was impeccably combed, and he was glaring at him with his arms crossed. Logan looked around skeptically at the motley group. Aside from the ginger and the Brooklyn boy, there was a slender white man with a neatly trimmed mustache and a maroon beret tipped fashionably over his forehead. Next to him was a scruffy looking white man in a flat cap in the process of lighting the cigarette of a clean-shaven black man. Then there was a Japanese man wearing a baseball cap and another man, looking to be the oldest in the group, wearing an oil-stained shirt.
“So, this is the unit of non-regulation uniforms,” Logan mused aloud.
“We’re given certain creative liberties, yes,” Rogers confirmed.
“Yeah, that’s how Mister America here got away with putting the Captain in such a tight fitting costume,” the ginger chuckled, clapping the Brooklyn boy hard over the back.
Said Mister America’s face was red, though Logan couldn’t tell if it was from anger or embarrassment.
“Damn, if I know I had choices with my clothes I’d have accepted the position of bein’ your partner much more readily,” Logan laughed.
“Partner?!” Mister America, who Logan would learn was actually called Bucky (as if that sounded less ridiculous than the moniker), sputtered.
“Steve doesn’t need a partner, Logan,” Bucky said, walking up to Captain Rogers in a huff.
The Captain put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a look Logan didn’t understand yet.
“Not according to my orders, kiddo, Agent Carter said, an’ I quote, so don’t shoot the messenger now, ‘Captain Rogers is in requirement of an official partner in battle. His unofficial partner, Sergeant James Barnes, has repeatedly been deemed mentally unstable and I have recommended numerous times that he be kept at a distance for his sake and Rogers’s. James Howlett has far more experience than Barnes and far less likely to be as emotionally driven,’” Logan recited, pulling out his neatly printed orders and pressing them into Rogers’s palm.
The group, which had seconds earlier been engaged in light-hearted bander, grew silent.
“Hey, what in the fuck-” the Japanese man, Morita, exclaimed.
“Who does that bitch think she is, talking about Buck like that?” the man next to him, Izzy, muttered.
“Language, Cohen,” Rogers said weakly, although he looked insincere.
“Just because Jimmy’s shellshocked doesn’t mean he’s any less effective of a sniper, the fellow’s saved our asses more than once,” the ginger, Dum Dum, added.
The man in question, Bucky Barnes, just looked agape.
“Nobody told me you were coming to replace Bucky,” Rogers said quietly.
“What’s that the Brits do, eh? Compartmentalizing! That’s it,” Logan shrugged.
“I’m gonna need to radio base as soon as possible, Morita, this schtick isn’t gonna work out if she keeps keeping shit from me,” Rogers said.
“Sergeant Barnes was tortured and experimented on for months by Nazi scientists, and they think it’s abnormal that he has nightmares,” the mustachioed Brit in the crew, Falsworth, said angrily, shaking his head.
“You know I’m right here, guys, right? I can speak for myself, yaknow,” Bucky finally said, “I’m not a dame needing her honour defended.”
He stepped towards Logan and looked down at him.
“No offense, Logan, but we know nothing about you. I’ve known Ste-Captain Rogers since we were kids. I’m the only guy here qualified enough to watch the Star Spangled Man’s six,” he told him.
“You’re welcome to join us, of course, but you’re not Rogers’s partner, pal, I am.”
“Woah there, bub, never claimed to be, just reading out orders. If you wanna stay put, by all means, I ain’t gonna get in your way,” Logan assured him.
“I’m not one for partners anyway.”
There was a thick silence between the two of them. Bucky’s nostrils flared threateningly, but all Logan could smell on him was insecurity and longing.
‘Kids,’ he thought cynically.
He licked his lips and looked up at Rogers.
“Well,” Rogers said awkwardly, “seeing as that’s settled, who's up for not-coffee?”
***
February, 1945
“Logan, there’s no point lying to us,” Dum Dum said darkly, “we saw you talking to that Hydra agent in London.”
“I didn’t know he was Hydra, I had orders.”
“That’s what they all say, you fucking traitor,” Izzy spat.
“When mine and Jim’s transmitter went missing, that was you, right?”
“My orders, they wanted our coordinates…”
“Did you really think you were getting orders from the SSR? They know where we are, don’t need you giving them information, are you really that stupid?”
“Technically they don’t know our exact coordinates, I mean, they didn’t, so I thought they wanted ‘em,” Logan tried.
He was clearly outnumbered, and Steve had yet to show his face.
“They gave me SSR codes an’ everything, I’m not an idiot!” he cried.
“Well, they sure played you for one,” Gabe muttered.
“And because of you, Barnes is dead, and Steve and I are lucky we aren’t at the bottom of that gorge with him.”
Dernier muttered something in French to Gabe, who nodded at him. Logan understood French well enough, and he knew it wasn't anything good or pleasant.
“I didn’t know, okay?! I would’ve never….if I had known…”
“Save it for the trial,” Falsworth dismissed him.
Izzy pulled him to his feet and tightened the homemade shackles around his wrists.
***
Later that night
Logan woke from a fitful sleep to the all-too-familiar sound of bodies hitting the floor.
“What the-” he growled, but a strong hand clamped swiftly over his mouth, preventing him from uttering another sound.
Someone was dragging him out of the tent, and between his struggles Logan managed to catch a glimpse of Izzy and Gabe’s unconscious bodies. Kidnapping was the last thing he expected, but then again, he had a long day. The hand over his mouth was removed briefly so a blindfold could be pulled over his eyes. Then a dirty gag replaced the hand.
“Bet you’re oh so satisfied with yourself, huh, Logan, getting just want you wanted,” hissed a voice in his ear once he felt himself stop moving.
‘Well, that complicates things,’ Logan thought grimly as he recognized the voice.
“Didn’t think you were the revenge kind, Rogers,” Logan coughed as the rag was pulled away from his mouth.
“You don’t know me at all, Logan,” Steve said quietly.
“And it seems I was an idiot to think I knew anything about you.”
“I didn’t know it was a trap, Steve,” Logan said.
He was still blindfolded, though he could sense exactly where Steve was- dangerously close.
“You don’t get to call me ‘Steve’ after what you did,” Steve growled.
“I thought it was an SSR agent, I didn’t know it was Hydra.”
“Sure you didn’t. You’re a smart man, Logan, I’m not going to deny that. Did you think that once Bucky was gone and dealt with I’d what? Suddenly want to be your best pal?”
“You’re a smart man, too, Rogers, you think my plan is that obvious?”
He smiled to himself. And Falsworth said Steve and Bucky weren’t buggering. Bullshit.
“You’re even smiling, mac soith!”
‘Ah,’ Logan thought, ‘guess that smile wasn’t so private.’
There was a resounding crack as Steve’s fist made contact with his face.
“Whatever happened to a fair trial, thought you Americans loved that shit,” Logan grunted once he caught his breath.
There was a deafening silence from Steve.
“Wait- were you the one who knocked out Gabe an’ Izzy?” Logan sputtered.
He could have laughed.
“The report the SSR will receive is that you tried to escape once we discovered your treachery. I stopped you, by any means necessary. No need for trial.”
Logan swallowed dryly. Steve had changed, grotesquely. It would have been arousing if it wasn’t terrifying.
“Thought you saved the dirty work for Barnes,” Logan said wryly.
If Steve was going to kill him, he wasn’t going to go down quivering in fear.
Steve whipped off his blindfold.
“Bucky’s dead,” Steve sneered.