Feathers

The mission was suppose to be simple. 

It was a milk run, infiltrating another low-level HYDRA base, something they’d done half a dozen times before. Infiltrate and capture useful individuals and information before blowing the building to the high heavens. Perhaps that was the problem though, their continued success had lulled them into a sense of misplaced complacency.

What Steve had failed to account for, was the fact that he and the Howling Commandos had made a name for themselves by this point. They had gained infamy among the HYDRA ranks, their exploits leaving several integral bases ravaged. They were now recognised as a force to be reckoned with, and thus HYDRA had enacted their own precautions. They were waiting for them. 

It started off simple enough, the only variable that was different from their other missions was the thick fog that hung heavy in the air, covering the dense woodland in a milky shroud. It allowed for cover, which was both useful and a hindrance. It put Steve on high alert, because the fog meant cover for them, but also for their enemies.

Steve didn’t hear them until it was too late.

The Howlers had been careful to keep close to the tree line, never stepping out into open territory too close to the base, but it made little difference. The agents emerged from the fog like dark shadows sent from the depths of hell, the mist leaving their figures blurred and distorted. 

At first the fog warped them into one large imposing shadow, all merged together and creating a pool of darkness that only grew as it rushed towards them, before splintering off into individual silhouettes. 

Steve breath hitches as his mind catches up with what is happening.

An ambush. 

Steve’s brain kicks into overdrive and he grabs Bucky, who had been marching along side him, and ducks for cover behind a large tree trunk. “Ambush!” He yells, forcing the rest of the men to snap their heads to attention and dive for cover. Caught unawares, the Howlers scramble for their weapons while Steve bellows, “Fire!”

It’s absolute carnage from then on. They get a few good shots in, but it seems HYDRA has not been skimpy with the amount of men they’ve sent out to intercept them. They’re outnumbered six to one, at least. 

Dernier does the most damage, pelting grenades at the crowd of agents and dispatching of several of them. It’s no use in the long term though, they’re outnumbered and outgunned. The HYDRA agents are steadily advancing towards them despite their casualties, and it dawns on Steve that their only chance is to fall back and run like hell.

“Retreat!” Steve shouts, shoving Bucky in front of him and yelling at him to run. Bucky looks back at him desperately and Steve can tell he’s loathed to leave without him, but Steve just shoots him a look and yells, “Now Bucky! I’m right behind you!” 

Bucky hesitates for a second before giving a decisive nod. “You better be,” He says, before taking off in a sprint and leading the men back the way they came.

Steve lags behind for a minute, covering for his men as they make their escape. He throws his shield out in a devastating spiral, watching as it takes out several men before ricocheting off a tree and returning loyally to his arm.

He braces behind his shield and runs into a group of agents lined up and firing, charging into them like a battering ram. They topple over, successfully rendered unconscious. Steve is dazed for a second, but comes back to himself just in time to hear the tell-tale noise of a hydra weapon powering up. 

He rolls out of the way just in time, a burst of blue light shooting past where he was just seconds before and straight into a large tree trunk, eviscerating the wood and burning a large flaming hole in the centre. 

Steve allows himself a second to gape in disbelief at the massive hole before he hears the tree creak alarmingly and he shoots up to standing and darts for cover. The old fir tree lets out an agonised groan before succumbing to it’s injuries and crashing to the ground. 

The trunk catches a few agents on its way down, including the man with the specialised gun that shot it in the first place. Taking it’s revenge, the tree crushes the agent and the gun, trapping several more men in it’s branches.

Taking advantage of the ensuing chaos, Steve breaks his cover to continue firing at the remaining men. Holding his shield up to cover him as much as possible, he fires fatal shots at a number of agents, before his gun clicks, alerting him that he’s out of bullets. He chucks it at a nearby HYDRA agent’s head, successfully knocking them out, before taking off in the direction of his men. 

The hiss of bullets whizzing past his ears accompanies him as he thunders through the forest, dodging trees and leaping over fallen logs. His heart thumps in his chest as his boots slam into the ground, propelling him forwards with inhuman speed. He can feel his wings chaffing painfully in their brace, unhappy with his hasty movements, but he forces himself to ignore the pain.

Soon enough, a bullet grazes his side and distracts him from the discomfort in his back with a sharp burst of fresh agony. He yells out despite himself, before gritting his teeth and willing himself to pick up speed.

He catches sight of his men soon enough, the dense fog dissipating and affording him a glimpse of their retreating figures. They’re running full pelt, weaving in and out of the trees and fast approaching a clearing in the woods. It’s the same clearing they had marched through earlier, blanketed in fog but recognisable, so Steve knows they’re going in the right direction.

Just as they all reach the clearing, Steve’s ears prick with the thundering of boots fast approaching them from behind. He casts a glance backwards and sees a pool of black uniforms flooding the forest behind him, advancing forward at an alarming pace.

Steve’s heart picks up speed and he calls out to his men to run, run faster. He makes sure to stay behind his team, despite the fact he could easily overtake them and sprint on to safety. He has to watch their backs.

Steve’s mind is a whirl, his blood pounding round his body in tandem with his thunderous heart. He’s shaking with the adrenaline, his head a swirl of battle plans, disaster scenarios and self recriminations. 

How is he going to get them out of this? 

He should have heard the ambush earlier, damn it. He should have taken more precautions. It’s his fault. It’s his fault.

They’re almost out of the clearing and back behind the relatively safe cover of the tree line when Dum Dum trips and falls, his boot caught in a wayward rabbit hole. He smacks the ground with devastating force and lets loose a breathless groan, downed and winded. 

The others stop in their tracks to help him up and Steve’s whole body seizes with panic. They’re too exposed. They’re too exposed.

Jesus fucking Christ they’re going to die, they’re going to die and it’s all Steve’s fault. 

Time seems to slow down then, as Steve snaps his eyes from Dugan’s fumbling form to the HYDRA agents finally breaching out from the tree line. His heart stops before giving one massive thud, followed by another. 

The HYDRA agents cock their guns, aiming straight for Dugan and the rest of the Howlers, caught compromised and vulnerable. They need cover. If they find cover they can probably take down the rest of the HYDRA agents. Steve did a fair bit of damage back in the forest and he can see now that their numbers have noticeably thinned. 

But they don’t have cover, and their sitting ducks out here. It’s a straight shot right to Dugan’s head. To Bucky’s head. 

That settles it. He’ll be the cover.

He can jump in front of them and take the brunt of the bullets, god knows he can heal freakishly fast so he might actually have a chance of survival, but he’s only big enough to cover two of them at most. 

There’s only one way he can shield them all.

Adrenaline rushes through his system in an icy sweep, his heart threatening to punch right out of his chest. The thump of his heart rattles his rib cage and time continues to stretch on agonisingly slowly for a few terrifying moments, before he plants himself in front of his men and braces.

Bucky shoots up to standing once he’s got Dugan on his feet again and locks eyes with Steve. They’re standing face to face, and it’s just coincidence that Steve seems to have planted himself in front of his best friend. Except if he’s dying for anyone, you can bet your sweet ass it’s going to be Bucky. 

Drawing courage from Bucky’s wild storm grey eyes, Steve sucks in a breath.

For the first time he lets himself feel, really feel his wings, lets himself embrace the sensation of them on his back, the raw power that thrums through them. They’re not as powerful as they should be, neglected as they are, but adrenaline and desperate panic fuels him. With a roar he funnels all of his strength into his wings, willing them to tear free of their constraints.

The brace groans and strains to keep them trapped, before finally bowing and snapping under the immense pressure. White hot pain flares across where the straps dig into his already abused and sensitive flesh and he forces himself to choke back an agonised scream.

His wings explode free in a blur of gold and shining blue, ripping through the fabric of his suit and tearing it to shreds. He feels the sharp chill of the winter air cascade across his bare skin, but the adrenaline and determination electrifying his veins numbs him to the cold.

He only has a split second to stretch his wings out fully before the bullets start raining down.

There’s almost too much pain to register as bullet after bullet embed themselves into his bare back. It feels like pin pricks at first, before his back explodes into a map of screeching pain, a scream clawing up his throat and out into the fog laden air.

Everything seems to freeze for a moment, the first burst of enemy bullets pausing as they reel back from the sight before them. If Bucky’s expression is anything to go by, this is quite the shock. Tell him about it. 

Bucky doesn’t blink, his eyes wide with astonishment as his mouth drops open on a whispered, “What the fuck.”

What the fuck indeed, Steve thinks ruefully. He shakes himself. Focus. Their enemies’ shock gives them an advantage, they need to seize it or die from the consequences. 

“Holy hell,” Dugan chokes out from in front of Steve, but Steve forces himself to ignore his men’s stricken faces.

“Fire!” Steve bites out fiercely, his throat raw from screaming. His voice snaps then into action, and a few seconds later his men are peaking the muzzles of their guns over the tops of his wings and firing into the crowd of HYDRA agents. He can hear the shouts of pain behind him, but it’s all static in comparison to the flaring agony that is the backside of his body. 

Steve’s knees wobble with the pain, a stray bullet caught in his thigh sending jolts of pain down his right leg. He grits his teeth. He needs to stand firm, he needs to shield them. 

Shield them.

Shield.

He snatches his shield off his left forearm and thrusts it at Bucky. “Throw it!” Steve grits out, his teeth still clenched through the pain.

“Steve,” Bucky gapes, expression utterly bewildered. 

“Just do it!” Steve shouts, ignoring the bite of guilt that stabs in his chest. They need to be quick, time is of the fucking essence. No time for chatting now, he’ll explain everything later. God knows they’re going to want an explanation. 

Bucky dutifully takes the shield and tosses it artfully over Steve’s shoulder. Steve can hear the shouts of pain as it collides with bodies, as well as several thuds as they hit the ground. 

An explosion sounds behind him, the blow back brushing against his back in a smoking billow of hot air. It draws his attention back to the oozing bullet wounds in his skin and he whimpers, tears springing to his eyes as the pain continues to register, only getting progressively worse.

His body is crying out to him, begging to just collapse and curl into a ball, but he plants himself like a tree and refuses to fail his men. His wings are two long lines of flaming agony, but they hold steady.

It’s so strange and foreign to have them out like this, fully stretched and splayed open, and it’s awful, he’s fully exposed and in agony, but it’s also right. Like an itch has been scratched. They’ve been begging to be free this whole time, but Steve has kept them trapped, sequestered away in their brace. They’re weak and emaciated from lack of care and exercise, but they hold fast and true.

Adrenaline pumps through his body, most likely the only thing keeping him upright. He’s hated his wings this whole time, rejected them and shunned them away, they make him a monster but at least now he’s using them for something good.

Steve very well may die here, he might die a monster, but maybe he’ll be forgiven.

It’s over shortly after that, the remaining HYDRA agents only get a few shots off in their disordered state. The howlers making short work of them, and between their fusillade spray of bullets and Dernier’s bombs, they come out victorious.

A thick silence fills the air, the shrill sound of gunshots still ringing in Steve’s ears.

Pain flares in his back, chased by agony all throughout the backside of his body and along the sensitive flesh of his wings. He chokes out a pained sob, his body an exposed nerve of white hot agony. 

The pain is worth it though. Steve shielded them. They’re okay, they’re alive.

His eyes once again lock with Bucky’s and Steve almost loses himself in the storm for a moment. He wants to wrap himself in the soothing crystalline grey, in Bucky’s warmth. He wants to escape the world, escape the pain. 

Except horror fills Bucky’s eyes and Steve feels himself shrinking back from it instinctively. He yearns to avert his gaze, escape the judgement he knows is coming, but he’s stuck, frozen in place by the piercing gaze of his best friend. 

“Sweet Mary and Joseph,” Dernier gasps from somewhere on Steve’s left.

“Bloody hell, Captain,” Monty proclaims breathlessly, but it’s all white noise.

The pain burns through his nerves. His cheeks are wet. When did they get wet? Oh, he’s crying. He’s sobbing.

“Steve,” Bucky chokes, dropping his gun and bringing shaking hands up to Steve’s face. He’s a blur now, Steve’s tear filled vision warping his surroundings. “Steve, oh my god. Oh my god,” Bucky says, gripping Steve’s jaw.

“Surprise,” Steve breathes, shooting Bucky a wet and rueful little smile before his eyes roll back, his knees buckle, and he falls to the ground.