Grade A American Beef

He was a very beautiful man, even as he sat crying in her hallway. His bloodshot eyes and dripping nose couldn't even diminish his obvious good looks. Irina was not all that surprised by his attractiveness. Rybka, her little fish, was one of the loveliest babies she'd ever seen, so it would make sense that her father would be just as pretty.

She lifted the whistling kettle from her stovetop and set it aside and then pulled down two cups from her cupboard, placing a teabag in each. Steam swirled up from her little china teacups as she tipped her kettle over each, suffusing the kitchen with the warm, earthy smell of chamomile. She set her kettle back down on the stovetop and padded back towards the Soldier, pausing a few feet from him and clearing her throat.

“Soldat, the tea is ready when you are.”

The soldier stared at her blankly for a moment, the poor dear. She’d seen the same look of overwhelmed shock and joy on her own husband’s face when he’d first seen their Mina. Fatherhood always took men by surprise, as if children were an anomaly that they couldn't quite believe in until the babe was right there in their arms. Irina shuffled the bittersweet memory aside before it could start to pierce her heart. Now was not the time for her to dwell on her loss.

The soldier rose to his feet slowly, swiping his strange metal palm over his face and scrubbing the tears from his cheeks. “My name is Bucky. You don’t have to keep calling me Soldier. I don’t do that anymore,” he rumbled in his low timbre.

Irina wrinkled her nose. “Did your mother not love you? That doesn’t seem a very fitting name for the once Fist of Hydra.”

He smiled slightly, showing a flash of straight, white teeth. “She probably hated me some days, I was a little bit of a shit growing up, but she named me James. Bucky is a nickname.”  

“Ah. I see. I think I’d prefer to call you James, if you don’t mind. I don’t think I’d be able to call you ‘Bucky’ with a straight face.”  

The man gave a full and hearty laugh at that. It was a pleasant sound and it made him even prettier. Good. Rybka would be loved by a father who knew how to laugh properly. Children should know joy like that in their homes. James rattled off a string of English words, likely to his woman on the other end of the device in his ear. Irina was struck with regret that she’d not kept up her study of English once she’d graduated from university. She could still read it fairly well, but listening to him speak, she could only catch maybe every third word. Ah well, soon enough she wouldn’t need to use it.

“James is fine,” he replied and followed her towards the kitchen.

Irina flicked a hand towards where their cups sat on the counter and turned to open her fridge. “Cream? Sugar?” she asked.

James nodded. “Both, please.”

She pulled the cream out and then grabbed the sugar bowl from her pantry, noting the way James sniffed surreptitiously at the cup he’d picked up from the counter. She chuckled and asked, “Still don’t trust me, James? I promise you, it’s not poisoned.”

He shrugged and his lips thinned in an embarrassed little grin. “Old habits?”

She snorted and handed him the cream and sugar with a roll of her eyes. She didn’t blame him though. She’d spent the first three months closely inspecting each delivery of groceries that the guards had sent her. Being under the thumb of Hydra could make you twitchy like that. She watched with some degree of disbelief as he dumped nearly half of her sugar bowl in his teacup.

She wanted to tell him to slow down but she reminded herself that she wasn’t his mother and kept her opinions to herself. But, really. He was going to give himself a mouthful of cavities. His eyes glazed as he sipped as his tea, obviously listening to his woman and then responding in a placating tone that she’d recognize anywhere. Wherever she was, his partner was not a very happy woman at that moment.

When he grew quiet again, Irina set her cup down and asked him, “Something wrong?”

“Yes. Well, no. My girl...she’s getting restless waiting outside. Wants to know why the hell I’m having tea instead of getting my ass out of here.”

“An understandable question. I won’t stop you, of course. Please, be on your way if you are ready to go.” She had matters of her own to attend to, after all.

James shifted in his seat, looking somewhat uncomfortable. “Well, there was a few things I’d like to clear up with you first.” Irina tilted her head in acquiescence, waiting for him to continue.

“I’ve been thinking...maybe it would be best if you came with us? The baby, she’s still nursing, right? And you know her best, what she likes, how to put her to bed, her favorite toys, her different cries, her-her everything. She doesn’t know us and I don’t know how she’ll do just being carted off with complete strangers and I just--”

She lifted a hand, stopping his nervous babbling. “James. Be at peace. There is nothing left for me here and certainly nothing left for me back in Sokovia. I will go with you.” She paused, thinking over what she’d said. She didn’t like to lie, so she amended, “At least, I will go with you until I know that you and your partner will be able to take care of Rybka.”

James’ head snapped up. “What did you call her?” he asked urgently.

Irina blinked at him. “Rybka,” she repeated. She searched for the words in English. “Little fish,” she said, placing her palms together and making a little swimming motion. “That is not her actual name, of course. But I refused to call her ‘Subject-212’ and she has loved the water since she was very very small. Is everything alright, James?”

The man in question looked like someone had sucker punched him in the gut. He shook his head slowly, clearing whatever distant memories pulled at him. “I...I thought you called her Rebecca. That was my little sister’s name.” His voice grew soft and tender. “She loved the water, too.”

Her heart twisted in her chest and she couldn’t help the hand she placed on his shoulder. “Perhaps...perhaps that is the name you should give her, then?”

James bit at his lips, dropping his gaze to his tea. “I think...yes, I think that would be fitting.” He sniffled and turned his head away from her and she had the good grace to release him and look away.

She gave him a few moments to gather himself and then clapped her hands together. “Well. If we are to leave, then we should start gathering what we will need and be on our way as soon as possible. It is unkind to keep your woman waiting too long and the next shift of guards will be arriving in a few hours. I’d rather prefer to be far from this place when that happens.”

James agreed and they made their way through the apartment, picking and choosing what was necessary for their journey. There wasn’t all that much. Irina was a walking food source, the weather was mild and warm clothing wasn’t particularly necessary. James said he had a good supply of diapers and wipes back at his base. Really all of Ryb-- Rebecca’s needs were easily met with very little to pack. Irina dressed herself briskly, pulling on her most comfortable running shoes.

She’d been surprised when her guards had allowed her to go for (heavily monitored) morning runs around the compound. Apparently, the new Fist of Hydra’s food source needed regular fresh air and exercise for the ultimate sustenance production. Free range breast milk. Joy.

That had ultimately been their downfall, however. They had all assumed that the wife of a poor Sokovian shepherd would be an idiot. They thought nothing of leaving her to wait in the head guard’s office while they went on a coffee break before her run. Fifteen minutes had been all she needed to filch a USB and download as much pertinent information as she could find.

Smuggling the file into the mail cart had been significantly harder, but she’d been blessed with mile long legs and she’d damn well use them for a distraction if it meant that she could get that little girl to safety. It had made her sick to her stomach when she’d overheard the guards discussing the extent of Strucker’s plans and the fate of all those Sokovian children. She couldn’t stand by and let that demon of a man destroy another innocent child. She just couldn’t.

Fully dressed, she packed a small bag with a few days’ worth of clothes. She wanted to burn all of it in a great heap, but she supposed walking into town stark naked might draw more attention than they desired.

She left everything else behind in her bedroom. She didn’t want any of it and she wouldn’t need any of it. She met up with James in the living area where he stood holding the small bag they’d packed for Rebecca.

“I think that’s everything, except for your daughter. If we’re fairly quiet, I should be able to get her into her carrier without her waking. Especially if you help me with the straps.”

James nodded and glanced at the ceiling. “Yeah, I’d rather she was asleep while we’re upstairs,” he said with a shudder.

She reached a hand out to place on his arm. “Even if she woke, she is too young to remember anything she might see. It will be alright, James.”

He smiled wanly at her and followed her back towards Rebecca’s bedroom. They entered quietly and Irina scooped up the carrier where it lay across the top of the rocking chair that was nestled into one corner of the room. She buckled it around her hips and stepped over to the crib, motioning James to follow.

Bending over the edge, she cradled the little girl into her arms and then nestled her against her chest. With James’ help, she pulled the carrier up to cover Rebecca's back, and Irina slipped her arms through the shoulder straps on either side, with James buckling the straps between her shoulder blades, effectively securing the little girl to her chest.

Rebecca didn't even stir, just slumped into her warmth, one fat little cheek squished to Irina’s sternum, her plump lips parted and drooling slightly. James stared, in awe of his child. He brought one hand up to touch the child but hesitated, glancing at Irina.

“She's your daughter, James. You don't need to ask permission to touch her.”

His answering smile was small and a little watery, but he stroked the knuckle of his index finger over Rebecca's cheek, his smile growing larger at the little sigh that escaped her mouth at the touch.

“Come, James. It's time we were on our way,” she urged gently.

The trip up the stairs was brief, with James leading the way, two bags under one arm and holding out his gun in his free hand. It was an unnecessary precaution. His woman had informed him that no reinforcements had arrived and none of the bodies upstairs had suddenly sprung back to life. But having a gun in his hand seemed to be a strange comfort to him, like a child with a cherished blanket.

Ah well, who was she to judge how a man went about keeping himself sane? She absentmindedly ran a hand over her thigh where she'd carved the names of her husband and children with a kitchen knife during one of those first dark days after she'd been captured. We all have our strange comforts, she supposed. 

She was horribly unprepared for the amount of carnage throughout the building as they made their hasty exit. There was a brief respite from the gore as they stopped at the, thankfully empty, office of the head guard. James pulled out a slim black plastic box emblazoned with a large letter “S.” It was likely some kind of external hard drive but far more advanced than anything she’d ever seen. He slapped it onto the side of the computer sitting atop the desk and waited patiently as the box began to give a pretty little light show that equated to the entirety of the computer’s memory being backed up to the box.

When they exited the office and were faced once again with the hallway of bloodied bodies, she froze in abject revulsion and would likely have been standing there still if James had not holstered his gun and handed her the bags, using his newly freed hands to cover her eyes and guide her out of the building. It was through strength of will alone that she did not vomit. It just wouldn’t do to get sick all over the baby.

It was with great relief that she took her first gulp of fresh air as they stepped out of the building at last. Irina was quite finished with having to breathe in the scent of freshly spilled blood. It was an experience that she would prefer to never go through again. James finally removed his hand from her eyes and his arm where it had been around her back, opting to take back the bags and pull his gun from its holster once more.

He walked at a quick clip towards the forest that wrapped around the property and she did her best to keep up and not jostle the little one too much. They had entered the tree row by a good bit when a small, brunette woman popped up from the underbrush. A small woman with a very large gun. Irina watched as the other woman tossed the gun aside in favor of wrapping both her arms around James as they drew near.

This close to her, Irina could see just how lovely she was. And how petite. “Oh James,” she exclaimed. “You did not tell me that your woman was so tiny! I could fit her in my pocket!”

James laughed and the woman rattled off a bit of English that was entirely too fast for Irina to ever follow. He must have translated her words for the woman, who then turned a very pretty pair of blue eyes on her, slightly narrowed, and hands planted on shapely hips. She said something to Irina, which again she could not follow, and then thumped James on the chest and gestured towards Irina.

“Uh,” he started awkwardly. “She says that you can keep your, um, ‘high and mighty’ comments to yourself? Sorry, I’m not sure she trusts you yet,” he ended lamely with a shrug.

Irina smiled gently at the woman. “Please tell her I meant no harm or offence. I am sorry for upsetting your wife, Soldat. I am not usually so bad at first impressions.” The man blushed a lovely shade of red and shyly explained that the rings were part of their cover.

“For now,” Irina responded. She couldn’t help it. She could see that the two were very much in love and she had always been a sucker for love stories with happy endings. It was a shame that she had been denied the same.

James didn’t respond to her dig, turning to his woman to relay her apology and then making a quick introduction, exchanging names between the women. Irina held her hand out for the woman to shake. “Darcy, hello,” she said in greeting. She couldn’t remember much English but she knew the basic greeting at least. And strangely enough, how to ask “what color shoes does the boy have?” So helpful, her memory.

The other woman reached out hesitantly to clasp her hand and Irina did her best to give a reassuring smile. When they’d released one another, she beckoned Darcy closer and waved a hand over Rebecca’s head. “Baby?” she asked. “Um...look?”  

The woman’s face lit up with genuine delight and she nodded and moved closer. Irina bent at the knees so that Darcy was able to peek into the top of the carrier. The shorter woman gave a small gasp and then muttered softly to James, reaching out to stroke her fingers through Rebecca’s soft curls. Tears sprang to the younger woman’s eyes as she glanced between the babe and her lover. It comforted some anxious part of Irina’s heart to see the amount of affection flowing from the woman.

Darcy would be a good mother to the little one. Loving and kind. It soothed her to know this about Rebecca’s new family. All would be well for the babe once Irina was gone.

With introductions aside, the two lovers took off back towards the compound, rigging it heavily with explosives. When they returned to Irina and Rebecca, they led her to the chain link fence that surrounded the property, cutting out a section of the fencing so that she could easily walk through. When they had walked perhaps a mile away from the place that had been her home and her prison for close to eight months, James set off the remote detonator he carried with them and a thunderous explosion shook the earth. The two lovers held each other’s gaze, something unspoken passing between them before they returned to their brisk pace.

Irina and her aching feet were greatly relieved when they finally reached the old warehouse that they’d been using as a base. They must have seen how exhausted she was and offered one of their sleeping bags for her to rest in. She’d accepted graciously, carefully unstrapping the carrier from around her and Rebecca. She looked up to see James watching them intently.

“Would you like to hold her?”

“Yes. If that’s alright?” He looked at her with steel blue eyes, chewing the corner of his mouth and breaking her heart all the while.

“Of course it’s alright. Come get your daughter, James.”

He stepped closer and she shuffled the still sleeping infant into his arms, her heart melting at the look on his face when Rebecca turned her little face to nuzzle into the side of his neck. He held her curled against his chest, one large hand supporting her rump and the other rubbing slow circles over her back. Almost instantly he started swaying in the slow side to side that every parent knows.

Irina fell asleep to the sight of a father rocking his little girl for the first time. It was a sight she’d seen before and it cut open wounds that were still so fresh. Her thumb traced back and forth over the names on her thigh. She was thankful for the exhaustion that yanked her into sleep before she could completely break apart.  

She woke a few short hours later to the sound of Rebecca’s gurgling laughter. Irina opened her eyes a bit and watched a brief moment as Darcy and James cuddled the little girl between them, making ridiculous faces and voices to get the girl to laugh again. She closed her eyes with a smile and sank back into sleep. Rebecca would be squalling for her breakfast soon enough, might as well get a few more minutes of rest while she could.

***

The following day was a busy one, though they didn’t actually do anything other than talk, with James being the patient translator. Darcy had warmed to her quickly, having deemed Irina a person worth trusting. The other woman seemed a good soul, and Irina would have cherished her as a lifelong friend in another life. It saddened her somewhat to know that their friendship would not last more than a few hours.

Now that she had seen them with Rebecca, had seen what kind of people they were, how they loved each other, she was certain. She knew Rebecca was in safe, good hands so Irina could in good conscience leave her with them and do what she needed. James had told her that morning that a contact of theirs was going to be delivering fake documents for her in two days’ time so they could pass through the border over to Romania. She hated that they were going through all that trouble for nothing.

When Darcy and James left to pick up her papers from the drop point, Irina stayed behind with Rebecca, saying her last goodbyes to the only thing left in this world that she cared about. They were asleep in one of the sleeping bags long before the other two made it back, with Irina curled around Rebecca, her nose buried in those sweet curls, breathing in the last bit of her sweet baby smell.

When Rebecca woke in the middle of the night, Irina nursed her one last time and tried to keep her tears from falling on the little girl. When she was finished, she carefully placed the babe between her parents’ sleeping forms. They shifted in their sleep, adjusting to accommodate the little one before settling back into a deep sleep once more.

When Irina was sure that they were all three content and in a peaceful slumber, she rose from her bedding. She walked silently on bare feet over to the metal desk where an array of the couple’s weaponry lay neatly on the desktop. She hesitated, not sure which would best suit her purpose, before choosing a handgun that seemed large enough to meet her needs and small enough to fit her hand. She gripped the cool plastic, lifting the gun from the table with nimble fingers.

She turned to look one last time at the sleeping forms of the little family. “Goodbye,” she whispered and then left them behind, slipping down the steel staircase and across the warehouse floor.

She stepped out of the building into cool moonlight. It was a full moon that night, with a clear sky filled with stars. Yakov and the children had loved nights like that, when the moon and stars were so bright that you could see all the world clear as day. The pinpricks of starlight blurred and smeared as she raised the muzzle of the gun to her temple. She would see her loves very soon or she would die looking at something they had cherished. Either way, she was content with her end.

***

Bucky wasn’t certain what woke him, but his mind snapped to awareness. Darcy lay next to him, with his sweet Rebecca between them, both his girls breathing deeply. And drooling. Just a little bit. He craned his head around to check on Irina, only to find her bedding empty. Some feeling of foreboding sank into his belly, prompting him to his feet. When he noticed one of his pistols missing from the desktop, the feeling rose to an overwhelming roar of alarm.

His feet had him down the stairs and halfway across the warehouse floor before his brain had even caught up with them. He stepped out of the building, and could see Irina standing a few yards away, her back to him, staring up at the stars. Her arms hung at her sides and her right hand shook around the gun she had gripped in it. When he saw her start to raise the gun, he broke into a run, the seconds slowing and almost stilling as he attempted to outrace the ascent of the barrel of the gun towards her head.

He was nearly to her when he flung out his metal hand, grasping the barrel of the gun and shoving the muzzle towards the sky a split second before her finger curled over the trigger. The sound of the shot exploded over the parking lot and he used the force of the recoil to help wrench the gun from her hand.

She turned to him with wide, brown eyes, tears falling heavily now. She was screaming at him in Sokovian then, beating at his arms and trying to grab the gun from his outstretched hand. He tossed the gun as far from them as he could and snatched Irina around her arms when she turned to run after it. With her arms pinned to her sides, she screamed and kicked back at him, her speech finally falling into the recognizable syllables of Russian.

“Please,” she cried. “James, please. Please let me die!” She jerked in his arms and from behind him he could hear that Darcy had joined them.

“Irina, I can’t. I can’t let you do that.” He held her back tighter to his chest, his heart breaking for her.

She shrieked in frustration, trying to twist out of his grip one last time before she finally gave up the fight. Her knees buckled and it was only his arms around her that kept her from falling to the ground. Her screams of pain and rage devolved into gut wrenching sobs of despair.

He sank to his knees with her, keeping his hold on her shoulders but lighter now, merely holding her instead of restraining her. She knelt and rocked in his arms, her shaking hands covering her face, fingers curved like claws and nails digging into her own flesh.

“Ithurts, it hurts, it hurts,” she moaned miserably. “My husband, my babies, they’re gone and it hurts so much, James. I cannot live with this anymore.”

He released her shoulders to grip her hands in his, pulling them away so he could look her in the eyes. “Yes you can,” he urged. “I promise you, you can endure this. You just have to keep trying.”

She stared up into his eyes, looking lost and so very fragile. “Why?” she asked. “Why would I want to do that? There is nothing left for me in this life. Nothing.”

“What about Rebecca?”

“She has her own family now. I just want to be with mine.”

“That’s- Irina, no. I know what it’s like, okay? I know what it’s like to have Hydra take everything from you. Your family, your life, your whole world. I have been where you are now, and I promise you, that there is always more to live for.” His eyes traveled up to meet Darcy’s where she was standing a few feet away from them, watching them with alarmed blue eyes. He gave her the briefest smile, hoping it would be enough to reassure her, before turning his attention back to the inconsolable woman in his arms. “Maybe not today, maybe not in this moment, but if you can just survive the pain long enough...if you can endure each day of putting yourself back together, eventually you will find something worth living for again. I promise, Irina.”

She stared back at him, her eyes searching his for a breathless moment until they slid closed and her body slumped forward, shaking with quiet sobs. He let go of her hands to gather her into his chest, rocking her side to side and stroking his palm over the back of her head.

“Come home with us,” he murmured. “There are people there who can help you, like they helped me. Good people who will take care of you, who you can trust. Just, please, come home with us?”

She nodded against his chest and the tight knot of worry lodged there began to loosen. He blinked tears out of his own eyes and then wrapped one arm under her knees and the other behind her back, lifting her up and rising to his feet. He carried her silently back into the warehouse and up the stairs, followed closely by Darcy, and then deposited her into her sleeping bag. Irina didn’t move from the spot, just curled tighter into the fabric of her bedding, her tears slipping soundlessly down her cheeks.

He stepped away from her, nabbing Darcy by the elbow to pull her to the other side of the room. He explained what had happened in a hushed whisper, sweeping the tears from Darcy’s cheeks when she began to cry.

“That poor woman,” she whispered, stepping into his arms and tucking her head under his chin. “We’ll need to keep a close eye on her until we’re back home.”

Bucky hummed in agreement. He was all the more glad that they would be over the border and with Steve and Natasha in a few short hours. Extra eyes and hands would be welcome. For now, he would stay up and watch over the women as they slept.