#107 regiment

[amarriageoftrueminds]

me realising Steve getting called 'tinkerbell' and having fruit thrown at him is actually him getting gaybashed in the movie, me realising the guys that did that to him were members of the 107, me realising Steve risked his life to go and save their damn regiment anyway-

#FOR BUCKY #tw gaybashing #stucky #steve meta #steve rogers #WHAT A GUY. WHAT A MENSCH?? #mcu meta #meta #bucky meta #stucky meta #bucky barnes #catfa meta #CATFA #yet each man queues the thing he loves

[soberscientistlife]

Joseph “Uncle Joe” Clovese was the last known surviving Black soldier of the Union Army in the American Civil War, and lived in Pontiac at the time of his death in 1951. Clovese, who lived to be 107 years old, was born into slavery on a plantation in St. Bernard Parish, Louisiana, and escaped slavery in his teens to join the Union Army during the Siege of Vicksburg. He stayed with the Northern Army, first as a drummer, later as an infantryman. He was a private in Co. "C", 63rd Colored Infantry Regiment.

Following the war he worked on Mississippi river steamboats, and he later worked on the crew stringing the first telegraph wires between New Orleans and Biloxi, Mississippi. At the age of 104, Clovese moved from Louisiana to Pontiac, Michigan to be near family. Once the community learned about “Uncle Joe,” the citizens of Pontiac embraced him. Large gatherings were organized for his 105th, 106th and 107th birthdays on January 30th.

For his funeral, more than 300 people were packed into Newman A.M.E. Church in Pontiac (their former location, in downtown) for the service. Hundreds more gathered at the gravesite in Pontiac’s Perry Mount Park Cemetery. Veterans from the Oakland County Council of Veterans served as pall bearers. A firing party from Selfridge Air Force Base fired the final salute and taps was sounded over the cemetery. Pontiac even named a road in his honor, that ran through the Lakeside Homes complex.

Source: African Archives

[captain-price-unofficially]

4.2-inch (107 mm) mortars from 1st Battalion Manchester Regiment 'D' Company fire on 2nd SS Panzer Korps' positions in and around Brettevillette. 4 July 1944

#wwii #combat footage #western front #battle of normandy #liberation of france

[er1chartmann]

Adolf Hitler's time-line

This is Adolf Hitler, The Fuhrer, timeline:

1889: He was born in Vienna.

1892: the family moved to Passau, Germany, where the future dictator acquired his Low-Bavarian accent that would accompany him in the orations of his future political life.

1894: the family returned to Austria, moving to Leonding

1895: His father moved to Hafeld, near Lambach, where he was active in beekeeping. The move to Hafeld coincided with the beginning of intense father-son conflicts

1896 ( i don't know the exact year, sorry): Once he reached school age, Hitler instead began to attend the Volksschule, in nearby Fischlham

1897: the family moved to Lambach

1898: the family returned permanently to Leonding

1900: his younger brother Edmund died of measles

1900: ignoring his son's desire to attend a classical high school and become an artist, Alois forced Hitler to enroll at the Realschule in Linz

1903: Alois died of a pulmonary hemorrhage.

1908: His mother, Klara, dies.

1908: Hitler left his home for Vienna, where he had vague hopes of becoming an artist

1910: He lost his orphan's pension.

1912: he moved to Liverpool, where his half-brother Alois had in the meantime achieved a considerable fortune thanks to the opening of two restaurants in the English city

 1913: He returned to Vienna. It was in Vienna that Hitler began to approach anti-Semitism.

1913: Hitler moved to Munich to avoid military service in the Austro-Hungarian army.

1914: Hitler enlisted as a volunteer at the age of 25 in Kaiser Wilhelm II's Bavarian army, being assigned to the 1st Company of the 16th "List" Infantry Regiment, belonging to the 6th Reserve Division. His future Reichsleiter Rudolf Hess also served in that same regiment

1916:  He was wounded in the left thigh by a grenade splinter during the Battle of the Somme and was hospitalized for two months in the military hospital in Beelitz, 50 kilometers south of Berlin.

1916: He was decorated with the Iron Cross second class

1917: Five months later, he returned to the battlefield and fought all the bloodiest battles on the Flanders front, including the Battle of Arras and the Battle of Passchendaele.

1917: He was wounded by shrapnel in a trench in the village of Marcoing during the Battle of Cambrai-San Quentin in France

1918: He was later temporarily poisoned by a mustard gas attack, which left him blind for three days. He was immediately admitted to Pasewalk Military Hospital where, according to some sources, he learned the news of the German defeat on November 9th.

1919: He returned to Munich

1919: Fascinated by his speech, Anton Drexler, the founder and secretary of the party, enrolled him, without even consulting him, in the party as member number 555.

1919: He met Dietrich Eckart for the first time

1919: Hitler's first known anti-Semitic work, known as the Gemlich letter, was written.

1920: He was discharged from the army

1921: He was sentenced to three months in prison (of which only one was served) for having personally led an SA attack on a rally, which culminated in the attack of the speaker, a Bavarian federalist named Ballerstedt.

1923: Hitler and other extremists attempted the failed Munich Putsch.

1924: He was sentenced to five years in prison in Landsberg am Lech prison and here he wrote Mein Kampt (my battle)

1924: He was released after just nine months in prison.

1925: The first part of Mein Kampf was published

1925: Hitler established the SS

1928: The Nazi Party failed miserably in the 1928 elections

1930: Hitler assumed the position of Oberste SA (supreme leader), entrusting the position of military commander (Stabschef) of the SA to Ernst Röhm

1930: the Nazi Party suddenly rose from obscurity and gained over 18% of the vote and 107 seats in the Reichstag, making it the second largest political force in Germany

1931: His niece Geli (they were supposedly having an affair) commits suicide.

1932: the Nazis achieved their best result, winning 230 seats and becoming the party with a relative majority; Thanks to this victory, Hitler also managed to finally obtain German citizenship.

1933: He was appointed Chancellor of Germany

1933: Using the pretext of the Reichstag fire, Hitler issued the "Reichstag fire decree" on 28 February 1933, less than a month after taking office. The decree suppressed most of the civil rights guaranteed by the 1919 constitution of the Weimar Republic in the name of national security.

1933: Dachau concentration camp opens its doors

1934: After Hindernburg's death, Hitler, who was the Chancellor, could not also become President of the Reich (head of State), created a new position for himself, that of Führer, which in practice allowed him to combine the two roles. He was Führer und Reichskanzler (Reich leader and chancellor). From 1934 until his death there was no Reich President in Germany.

1935: The Nuremberg Laws were proclaimed

1935: he had to have a polyp removed from his throat, which led to relapses later

1935: Hitler repudiated the Treaty of Versailles, reintroducing conscription in Germany.

1936: Hitler violated the treaty of Versailles again by occupying the Rhineland demilitarized zone.

1936: when the Spanish civil war broke out, Hitler sent troops to help Francisco Franco's rebels

1936: On Goebbels' idea, Hitler hosted the 11th Olympiad in Berlin

1936: There was the signing of a friendship treaty between the Kingdom of Italy and Germany in Berlin

1937: Hitler held a secret meeting in the Reich Chancellery, in which he declared his plans for the acquisition of "living space" for the German people.

1938: With a plebiscite Austria joined Germany (the so-called Anschluss) and Hitler, who thus laid the foundations of Greater Germany, made a triumphal entry into Vienna

1938: This led to the Munich Agreement of September 1938 in which the United Kingdom and France, with the mediation of Mussolini, weakly gave in to his demands to avoid war, thus "sacrificing" Czechoslovakia, which was occupied.

1939: The Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact is signed.

1939: The Germans enter Prague, occupying Czechoslovakia.

1939: The military alliance with Fascist Italy known as the Pact of Steel takes shape.

1939: The Second World War begins with the Invasion of Poland

1940: Germany invaded Denmark and Norway

1940: The Battle of Britain, the only Nazi failure of that period, ends.

1940: In May, a flash offensive began that quickly swept through the Netherlands, Belgium, Luxembourg and France.

1940: The Auschwitz concentration camp opens its doors.

1941: Yugoslavia and Greece are invaded.

1941: Martin Bormann gives him Blondi.

1941: Operation Barbarossa began.

1941: The Nazi state declares war on the USA

1942: The Wannsee Conference was held by Reinhard Heydrich.

1943: The Battle of Stalingrad, considered by many historians as a turning point in ww2, ends.

1944: The allies land in Normandy

1944: Claus Von Stauffenberg planted a bomb with the intent to kill Hitler in Operation Valkyrie. The operation failed.

1945: He married Eva Braun.

1945: He killed himself.

Sources:

Wikipedia: Adolf Hitler

Military Wiki: Adolf Hitler

Hitler and his loyalists by Paul Roland

I DON'T SUPPORT NAZISM,FASCISM OR ZIONISM IN ANY WAY, THIS IS JUST AN EDUCATIONAL POST

#reichblr #heinrich himmler #joseph goebbels #austrian painter #ww2 germany #ww2 history #1940s

[contrequirose]

What a failure. 99 by May 6th. Three weeks: 21 days: 12 pounds. Not possible. I fucked up. Let's aim for 107 by April 23rd, 105 by May 6th, 102 by May 14th, 99 by May 20th. I run 5-6 miles per day, eat lettuce, toss the ice cream in my freezer. No more cheese. Save money on food. I replace thoughts of food with 5 tone-it-up exercises.

Regimented. 7am run/yoga, 8am ekg, 12:30 note-writing coffee without food, 6pm run, no dinner, 10pm Seroquel. Yes, I'm going back to it. My new rule is no food from the clinic lounge.

[likea-black-widow-baby]

🦀 time for crab 🦀🦀

today i summoned 107 crabs and caught 1 💰 of them. look at them all!

🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 🦀 💰

One of the 107th regiment never came home 😔

#time for crab #crab time #crustacean nation #crab #clack #mundie says things #crab day #agent carter #captain america

[brookstonalmanac]

Events 4.22

1500 – Portuguese navigator Pedro Álvares Cabral lands in Brazil (discovery of Brazil). 1519 – Spanish conquistador Hernán Cortés establishes a settlement at Veracruz, Mexico. 1529 – Treaty of Zaragoza divides the eastern hemisphere between Spain and Portugal along a line 297.5 leagues (1,250 kilometres (780 mi)) east of the Moluccas. 1809 – The second day of the Battle of Eckmühl: The Austrian army is defeated by the First French Empire army led by Napoleon and driven over the Danube in Regensburg. 1836 – Texas Revolution: A day after the Battle of San Jacinto, forces under Texas General Sam Houston identify Mexican General Antonio López de Santa Anna among the captives of the battle when some of his fellow soldiers mistakenly give away his identity. 1864 – The U.S. Congress passes the Coinage Act of 1864 that permitted the inscription In God We Trust be placed on all coins minted as United States currency. 1876 – The first National League baseball game is played at the Jefferson Street Grounds in Philadelphia. 1889 – At noon, thousands rush to claim land in the Land Rush of 1889. Within hours the cities of Oklahoma City and Guthrie are formed with populations of at least 10,000. 1898 – Spanish–American War: President William McKinley calls for 125,000 volunteers to join the National Guard and fight in Cuba, while Congress more than doubles regular Army forces to 65,000. 1906 – The 1906 Intercalated Games open in Athens. 1915 – World War I: The use of poison gas in World War I escalates when chlorine gas is released as a chemical weapon in the Second Battle of Ypres. 1930 – The United Kingdom, Japan and the United States sign the London Naval Treaty regulating submarine warfare and limiting shipbuilding. 1944 – The 1st Air Commando Group using Sikorsky R-4 helicopters stage the first use of helicopters in combat with combat search and rescue operations in the China Burma India Theater. 1944 – World War II: Operation Persecution is initiated: Allied forces land in the Hollandia (currently known as Jayapura) area of New Guinea. 1944 – World War II: In Greenland, the Allied Sledge Patrol attack the German Bassgeiger weather station. 1945 – World War II: Prisoners at the Jasenovac concentration camp revolt. Five hundred twenty are killed and around eighty escape. 1945 – World War II: Sachsenhausen concentration camp is liberated by soldiers of the Red Army and Polish First Army. 1948 – Arab–Israeli War: The port city of Haifa is captured by Jewish forces. 1951 – Korean War: The Chinese People's Volunteer Army begin assaulting positions defended by the Royal Australian Regiment and the Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry at the Battle of Kapyong. 1954 – Red Scare: Witnesses begin testifying and live television coverage of the Army–McCarthy hearings begins. 1969 – British yachtsman Sir Robin Knox-Johnston wins the Sunday Times Golden Globe Race and completes the first solo non-stop circumnavigation of the world. 1969 – The formation of the Communist Party of India (Marxist-Leninist) is announced at a mass rally in Calcutta. 1970 – The first Earth Day is celebrated. 1974 – Pan Am Flight 812 crashes on approach to Ngurah Rai International Airport in Denpasar, Bali, Indonesia, killing all 107 people on board. 1977 – Optical fiber is first used to carry live telephone traffic. 1992 – A series of gas explosions rip through the streets in Guadalajara, Mexico, killing 206. 1993 – Eighteen-year-old Stephen Lawrence is murdered in a racially motivated attack while waiting for a bus in Well Hall, Eltham. 2005 – Japan's Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi apologizes for Japan's war record. 2016 – The Paris Agreement is signed, an agreement to help fight global warming. 2020 – Four police officers are killed after being struck by a truck on the Eastern Freeway in Melbourne while speaking to a speeding driver, marking the largest loss of police lives in Victoria Police history.

#Events

[pacosemnoticias]

Existem 855 Espaços Cidadão e vão ser instalados mais 107 este ano

O secretário de Estado da Digitalização e da Modernização Administrativa, Mário Campolargo, detalhou que existem 855 Espaços Cidadão no país, tendo como objetivo um por município, e que 107 vão ser instalados este ano.

Mário Campolargo falava na comissão parlamentar de Economia, Obras Públicas, Planeamento e Habitação, no âmbito de uma audição regimental.

"Existem neste momento 855 Espaços Cidadão no país, 639 são promovidos pelos municípios, 174 pelas juntas de freguesia, 27 deles são geridos diretamente pela AMA [Agência para a Modernização Administrativa], quatro estão em consulados", detalhou o governante.7

No Plano de Recuperação e Resiliência (PRR), referiu, serão criados mais 300 Espaços Cidadão.

"A ideia é, pelo menos, ter um por cada município, 103 já estão instalados, 107 vão ser instalados este ano" e 154 "já têm protocolo assinado", faltando apenas ver como é que vão ser abertos exatamente, prosseguiu.

Aliás, na reprogramação do PRR "propomos mais 100 a este número, estou a trabalhar com os colegas da Coesão para garantirmos que possamos abrir mais Espaços Cidadão numa lógica de utilizar a capilaridade das juntas da freguesia para isso", sublinhou.

"Ao número de Espaços Cidadão que aqui identifiquei junta-se também os espaços SNS Saúde que nós no futuro tentaremos de alguma maneira criar sinergias entre estes tipos de balcão", referiu.

Atualmente, "já temos 81% do território nacional em termos de municípios coberto, temos 23 municípios que têm Espaço Cidadão em todas as freguesias e há muitos espaços que têm espaço de cidadão móvel (no atual PRR gostaríamos de ter 24 Espaços Cidadão móveis)".

[revolutionarywarhistory]

"I never forgot that I was an American": the story of the Maryland Loyalist Regiment [Part 2]

Continued from Part 1

© 2017-2023 Burkely Hermann. All rights reserved.

Reprinted from my History Hermann WordPress blog.

Notes

[1] Report on American Manuscripts in the Royal Institution of Great Britain, 422; Stuart Salmon, "The Loyalist Regiments of the American Revolutionary War 1775-1783," Ph.D Dissertation, 2009, University of Stirling,p.94.

[2] Salmon, "The Loyalist Regiments of the American Revolutionary War 1775-1783," pp iii-vii, 55.

[3] David W. Guth, Bridging the Chesapeake: A ‘Fool Idea’ That Unified Maryland (Blomington, IN: Archway Publishing, 2017), 64.

[4] Sina Dubovoy, The Lost World of Francis Scott Key (Bloomington, IN: WestBow Press, 53; <Sabine, The American Loyalists, 410.

[5] Sabine, The American Loyalists, 633-634, 650; Report on American Manuscripts in the Royal Institution of Great Britain, 336, 423, 428.

[6] The latter link cites James Moody, Lieut. James Moody’s Narrative of his Exertions and Sufferings in the Cause of Government, since the Year 1776, Richardson and Urquhart (London, 1783), 8-9.

[7] Siebert, Wilbur H. “The Loyalists in West Florida and the Natchez District.” The Mississippi Valley Historical Review, vol. 2, no. 4, 1916, pp. 473;Guth, Bridging the Chesapeake, 64-65.

[8] René Chartrand, American Loyalist Troops 1775–84 (US: Osprey Publishing, 2008), 8, 14, 16; Siebert, "The Loyalists in West Florida and the Natchez District," 474. Seibert talks about PA Loyalists at entrance to harbor

[9] Siebert, "The Loyalists in West Florida and the Natchez District," 476.

[10] Sabine, The American Loyalists, 204; William Odber Raymond, The United Empire Loyalists, 36; Report on American Manuscripts in the Royal Institution of Great Britain, Vol. III (Hereford: Anthony Brothers Limited, 1907), 87, 107, 280; Siebert, "The Loyalists in West Florida and the Natchez District," 481.

[11] "Subsistence Due the Commissioned and Non Commissioned Officers and Private Men from 25th June 1782 to the 24th of August, all days included being 61 days," August 1782, British Military and Naval Records (RG 8, C Series) - DOCUMENTS, p. 8. Courtesy of Library and Archives Canada; "Abstract of 61 Days Pay for the Commissioned Staff and Noncommissioned Officers and Private Men from the 25th of June to the 24th of August 1782, inclusive," August 1782, British Military and Naval Records (RG 8, C Series) - DOCUMENTS, p. 9. Courtesy of Library and Archives Canada. This calculation comes from 2016 US dollars according to Measuring Worth.

[12] Lorenzo Sabine, The American Loyalists: Or, Biographical Sketches of Adherents to the British Crown in the War of the Revolution; Alphabetically Arranged; with a Preliminary Historical Essay (Boston: Charles C. Little and James Brown, 1847), 60-61; Robert S. Allen, Loyalist Literature: An Annotated Bibliographic Guide to the Writings on the Loyalists of the American Revolution (Toronto: Dundurn Press Limited, 1982), 44. Other units created at the same time included the Roman Catholic Volunteers unit and the First Pennsylvania Loyalist Battalion/Regiment.

[13] For more see Ford, Paul Leicester, ed. Orderly Book of the “Maryland Loyalists Regiment” . . . 1778. Brooklyn: Historical Printing Club, 1891. The book is also mentioned here, here (full book), and here.

[14] Siebert, "The Loyalists in West Florida and the Natchez District," 482; Guth, Bridging the Chesapeake, 65; William Odber Raymond, The United Empire Loyalists (St. Stephen, N.B.: Saint Croix Printing and Publishing Co., 1893), 38. The Provencal Archives of New Brunswick, Canada adds that "one unfortunate ship, the Martha, having on board detachments of the Maryland loyalists and of de Lancey's third battalion, was wrecked on a ledge of rocks near Yarmouth, and out of 174 souls about 100 were lost. The other vessels arrived safely after a voyage of from ten to twelve days."

[15] Sabine, The American Loyalists, 62, 634; Theodore Corbett, Revolutionary Chestertown: Loyalists and Rebels on Maryland's Eastern Shore (Charleston, SC: The History Press, 2014), 120; William Odber Raymond, The United Empire Loyalists, 43.

[16] Guth, Bridging the Chesapeake, 65; Sabine, The American Loyalists, 118.

[17] Maryland in Prose and Poetry: Recitations and Readings Pertaining to the State, pp 222-223.

[18] Other sources include: Kathleen DuVal, Independence Lost: Lives on the Edge of the American Revolution (New York: Random House, 2016, paperback), 113-114, 155, 165, 182, 204, 215; issue 68 in 1973, article in Maryland Historical Magazine by Mayer and Bachmann titled "The First Battalion of Maryland Loyalists"); Murtie Jane Clark, Loyalists in the Southern Campaign of the Revolutionary War (Baltimore: Genealogical Publishing, 1981), 16-17; Mary K. Meyer and Virginia B. Bachman, "Genealogica Marylandia: The First Battalion of Maryland Loyalists," Maryland Historical Magazine Vol. 68, No. 2, summer 1973, 199, 209; M. Christopher New, Maryland Loyalists in the American Revolution (Centreville, Maryland: Tidewater Publishers, 1996), xi, xii, 20, 45-46, 49-51, 57-58, 63, 65, 82-83, 89-95, 100, 151, 148; Albert W. Haarmann, "The Siege of Pensacola: An Order of Battle," The Florida Historical Quarterly 44, no. 3 (1966): 193-199; Timothy James Wilson, ""Old Offenders:" Loyalists in the Lower Delmarva Peninsula, 1775-1800" (PhD diss., University of Toronto, 1998), 116, 179-180, 182-183; Richard Arthur Overfield, "Loyalists of Maryland During the American Revolution" (PhD diss., University of Maryland College Park, 1968), 207, 214-215, 234, 237-238, 243; Robert Mann, Wartime Dissent in America: A History and Anthology (New York: Palgrave Macmillian, 2010), 15-17; David H. White, "The Spaniards and William Augustus Bowles in Florida, 1799-1803," The Florida Historical Quarterly 54, no. 2 (1975): 145-155; Major Walter Dulany, Maryland Loyalists to General Carleton, New York 13 April 1783, PRO 30/55/10078; nd Major Walter Dulany, Maryland Loyalists to General Carleton, New York 13 April 1783, PRO 30/55/10078. Sadly I can't access this, this or this.

#maryland #loyalists #maryland history #revolutionary war #american revolution #british crown

[gtinvestukraineblog]

Ukraine Exchanged “Azovstal” Fighters on Godfather Putin

On September 21, Ukraine managed to return home more than 300 soldiers from the Russian captivity.

In Ukraine returned national heroes, legends of war whose names are associated with the factory Azovstal in occupied Mariupol

The 108 fighters who surrendered at the end of May were exchanged for Volodymyr Putin's relative, Victor Medvedchuk.

"To give Medvedchuk for real soldiers is not a pity. He went through all the investigative actions envisaged by the legislation, Ukraine received from him all that is necessary to establish the truth in criminal proceedings," Volodymyr Zelenskyy said in the appeal concerning the exchange of military prisoners.

Ukrainians were very pleased with the fact that the commander of the regiment Azov Denys Prokopenko and his deputy Serhii Volynin also live and were on the exchange list. Other commanders from Azovstal Sviatoslav Palamar, Denys Shulha, and Oleh Khomenko are already in safety. These 5 soldiers will be protected by Turkey until the end of the war. Defenders of Ukraine will be sent to Turkey, where they will live and undergo treatment. In addition, among the dismissed fighters from Mariupol, Mykola Kushch (Frost) and Kostiantyn Nikitenko (Fox), whom the invaders wanted to strike. Dmytro Kozatskyi, whose photos saw the whole world, also returned from captivity.

The Ukrainian government fought for freedom for girls from Azovstal. Ptashka, which recently appeared on Russian TV channels, was moved to Ukraine. Mariana Mamontova, a pregnant military medic, also returned home.

In addition to 108 people from Azovstal, another 107 defenders of Ukraine returned home. These are members of the national guard and territorial defence, police, border guards, customs workers, and even civilians.

An important event was the return of foreign fighters to their home. CNN reported that all foreign volunteers who defended Ukraine are free. Saudi Arabia became a 3-party, which allowed the dismissal of Britons, Americans, Moroccans, Croats, and others.

According to the president of Ukraine, negotiations on the return of fighters to their homes were long — the Russians wanted to take godfather Putin in exchange for 50 Ukrainians, but Ukraine wanted to return as many heroes as possible.

[fatedmus3s]

Good Dreams and Goodbyes

Summary: Her years as spiderling are finally over. Against all odds, she proved herself to be worthy of the title "Black Widow". What happens to the Winter Soldier and Natalia Romanova next? They are bound to finally part ways. Or is Natalia's little discovery of the inseparable Captain America and Bucky keeping them together?

Word Count: 7,082 words

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

1958 

Once the Winter Soldier was dismissed, she dropped her arms and moved her head slightly to get the tension out of her shoulders and neck. Natalia was about to get up when she saw Kudrin arrive at the sea of people. Unsure of what to do, she kept kneeling, watching the men surrounding them. She looked at the mule who had trusted her and didn't feel regret for making him come with her. He or better, the drugs inside him had spared her life after all.

Kudrin walked over and told her that she would finally be able to get up, so she did. She listened to her speak in false pride. The redhead would've loved to wipe that satisfied smile of the older woman, but she simply stood and listened. Her gaze shortly went to the man, who deserved the self-praise and pride. But once she was addressed as a Black Widow at the graduation ceremony, Natalia noted how it wasn't a question anymore but a statement. 

"Thank you, ma'am," she spoke, knowing that was what Kudrin wanted to hear. 

<"When will the ceremony take place?">, she asked to which Kudrin simply said <"Soon. Hold yourself ready."> 

Natalia nodded obediently and stayed quiet. It was still evident that the two women couldn't stand each other much. The redhead tolerated Kudrin because of those dancing lessons and because she wasn't allowed to do anything against her.

She was dismissed with a wave of Kudrin's hand. Natalia walked towards the building to go to her room, thinking of her future outside the Red Room. Little did Natalia know that she would rise to be the most famous and efficient Black Widow in this program.

He could feel his head lull to the side and murmured under his breath.

“Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes of the 107th regiment… 325557038... Brooklyn, N.Y. ….” He repeated under his breath, repeating again and again… So that's who he was… not what this freak German scientist kept repeating and repeating and repeating… hydra… no… Sergeant James…

His eyes trained on a point across the room, and he continued to mutter hours after the latest experiment. His body felt drained from whatever they’d injected him with, but the light was gone, that swayed back and forth in jerky movements. It was gone like the scientist was. 

He could hardly breathe, but he still kept at it. His voice grew weaker until he thought the mantra more than saying…

“Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes… of the 107… 32..557…” he continued, his voice growing hoarse and his eyes slid closed without him realizing it. He was... so tired... so, very tired. All he wanted was to rest... 'compliance will be rewarded'...his heart beat faster. 

No. He'd never listen to that. He'd never give in to these nazis. He couldn't rest; James just couldn't. Because he was James Barnes... his mother's little Jimmy, and his annoying sisters Rebecca's confidant, he was Bucky, Steve's friend and protector... God knew he needed one. Someone to stop him from his stupid escapades.

He couldn't give up, couldn't give in. But he wouldn't die, either... James didn't want to die. He wasn't ready to. But he just wasn't sure how long he could keep going. The clear thoughts dispersed sooner and he mumbled along his words to draw strength from them when his mind grew weaker. To remind him of all that.

A voice drew him out of his mantra and he opened his eyes. 

He stared above him and resigned himself to more of it… more of the bright lights and the shouts, the prodding and the needles… the creaking... cold metal under him… he couldn’t really feel his body just now, and his mind drug behind him sluggishly from being forced to stay awake for who knew how long.

He almost felt them pulling at the restraints he'd long forgotten was there. One shook him hard near his chest and his head lolled to the side again. He blinked once… this wasn't…

“Who… who's there…?” He slurred, finding words hard to find, and he focused on a helmet… blue… he could almost see blue in the dark light from the moon shining in the room.

“It’s me…” James looked harder at the face. “It’s Steve.”

His mind stuttered. “Steve,” He said, a smile pulled at the muscles on his face oddly and he felt a wash of homesickness over him. Of the little punk back at home, waiting for him to get back from the war, who wanted to come galavant in this hellhole, so God damn much… his thick-headed friend who was probably still picking fights in back alleys and stuffing his shoes to pass stupid tests…

“Come on.”

The voice pulled his mind back, away from the fond memories of home, of his friend. He looked up and felt he was imagining it. “Steve?” He muttered, letting out an amused breath. Of course, Steve couldn't be here… but as he looked at him and got hauled up off the metal table, he could swear he saw Steve's stupid face in front of him.

He felt disoriented as his body moved, and he could feel the stiffness in his bones. Steve hadn’t left, his face hadn’t turned into something else and his friend clapped him on the cheek and he blinked again wildly. 

His brain finally seemed to register that Steve was in front of him and they were still in the isolation ward. Steve…. what the hell…?

“I thought you were dead,” His friend breathed out worriedly, but he couldn't really take in words. So instead, he looked at Steve, trying to tell if his mind was tricking him again, taking him somewhere else besides the pain of the experiments.

It didn’t seem right, it wasn't real. Little detail were wrong... even sitting, why was Steve so tall? He used to have to set his arm on his friend's shoulders. His shoulders so broad and yeah, it didn’t really work did it?

“I thought you were smaller,” He mumbled back, a little confused at the whole scenario. 

He stared and stared at him, balancing his arm on his friend’s and he practically begged God to please not let this one be fake. That his friend was somehow here, rescuing him from this place, that he’d lied his way into the army and somehow ended up with a group here to save them all from this… just so he could get out. So it could all end. So he could rest. James was too stubborn to die and never submit... but he was so tired.

“Come on,” Steve said and he helped Bucky adjust his grip... and as he hauled him to his feet… Bucky was starting to realize this was real. This wasn’t his imagination. Steve was here…. and he was helping him stand up. Bucky couldn’t feel his legs, and his knees buckled as soon as they stood.

Steve lifted him… Steve lifted him… Steve Rogers was carrying him and huffing a 'here goes' as he pulled Bucky's deadweight and tried to pick up his tangled feet to make them work. He could barely stand on his own… dammit; how tall was Steve suddenly? Could this be real?

It would have to be one really realistic dream. He stumbled over the step and glanced back up… no, this was real. He could hear the gunshots now, he could feel Steve holding up his weight, and he could feel the pain arching across his shoulders and in his chest.

“Wh-What happened to you?” He pushed the words from his throat.

“I joined the army!” Was Steve's doofy reply and Bucky knew this was his friend, alright. Even he couldn't dream up that sort of dumbass answer. No one else could be so light-hearted in the middle of this place, either. He could finally feel his feet and wrapped an arm around his injured side as he struggled to stay up on his feet and not weigh Steve down.

They continued down the hallway and he continued his questions….

"Steve...." He murmured, hardly a whisper in a hushed, soft tone. He shifted in his sleep, rolling onto his back as his flesh hand clenched and his eyes darted beneath his eyelids. 

Natalia was on her way back from breakfast as she passed two guards. It was a regular occurrence and people stopped caring about her appearance as her graduation ceremony was only a few days away. She was one of them now and not the psychotic scared girl who had shot and murdered several people on the run. Yet she liked to remind them what she was capable of. It helped keep the nosey and talkative guards away from her and allowed her to walk freely in the facility.

<"You go wake him! I did it the last time..."> one of the men said to which the other just violently shook his head, irritated <"Not a chance! You heard the stories. I don't wanna end up dead because that asshole cannot set his alarms.">

Natalia stopped and listened to them speak. She tried to figure out who they were talking about even though she had an excellent idea of who it was. She had heard the stories herself and they painted the Winter Soldier worse than he actually was. Sure, she had initially been a little afraid of him, but at least she hadn't shown it openly.

The redhead finally walked over to them. <"What's the matter?"> she asked harsh having her own fun by scaring them. Her cold gaze basically pierced them and she had a welcoming smirk on her lips. Her whole demeanour seemed like she was about to use them as her prey. She was bored so they were the perfect toy. 

<"I'm listening, dear..."> she said, flirty placing her hand on the man's upper arm. The one who declined to do it and talked about those stupid children's stories. Both men quickly shook their heads, refusing to speak. But, of course, everyone knew about the close relationship between her and the Soldier.

<"We were...uhh...we were just talking about an order,"> the one she had attempted to flirt with.

Natalia stepped closer to him and purred while batting her eyelids <"Perhaps I can be of help?"> It was ridiculous they were eating out of the palm of her hand already. The redhead was sure they should know that she was waaaay too nice to him. Though she first, the first man had caught on and looked around, uncomfortable, for a way out.

<"The Soldier, Natalia. We are supposed to wake the Soldier,"> he spoke, which made her raise her eyebrows and break her character.

<"First of all, it's Black Widow for you!> she spoke and outlasted a hand slapping with the back of her hand. She even left an imprint of her hand on his cheek. Next, she threw a knife toward the first man who was running away now. It scratched the man's leg and he stumbled and fell.

<"Secondly, you're a disgrace to the guards. Both of you! Afraid of waking a man up and stupidly even telling that. Thirdly, you better run before I slice you open for ignoring a direct order and running away like frightened pigs. Lastly, you are more than lucky that I am feeling gracious and will go wake him for you two. Oh, and get a new partner: he will treat your life for his own,"> she hissed at the second man before walking past the first and picking her knife up.

"Pathetic," she spoke merciless and stepped on the wound before continuing her way. She knew they wouldn't go kiss and tell. They were way too afraid of her by now and she wasn't a student anymore, so they couldn't even be sure if she was to be punished.

The redhead turned right and quickly found herself in front of the Winter Soldier's quarter. <"You better be dressed ‘cause I'm entering,"> she spoke lighthearted and looked around in his room. 

Natalia quickly found him lying in his bed while she closed the door again. He was shifting, unsettled as he dreamed. She walked over to him, already thinking of ways to wake him up, until she heard a name. Not any name but the name of Captain America. She tilted her head to the side and listened. She had already given up on the file and had been about to place it back in the office. But here they were. Natalia shook her head, thinking she had misheard things. Yet there it was again. So shortly after another, it couldn't be a coincidence, could it?

She crouched down next to his bed and watched him sleep. She closed her eyes trying to listen to each word the man was saying. No matter how silent it was. Thought you...smaller. Was he really dreaming about the infamous Steve Rogers? It matched; she had finished reading the man's biography after buying the books. She rested her arms on his mattress with one hand placed over the other next to his head and leaned her chin on her hands.

What happened...and there it was again, Steve. It was enough for her to make the file exciting and relevant again. She opened her eyes and looked at the man. He seemed so peaceful despite his dream. He seemed different to her than the Winter she knew - almost like his dream made him into another person. For a moment, she wondered what he was dreaming about.

But there was no use to dwell over it. Winter needed to get up. On one thing, the two men were right, he was late for whatever meeting and he should've set the alarm. Breakfast was most likely over. She thought of holding down his arms and shouting at him for a moment. But that one would backfire on her. There was no way she would be able to hold down his bionic arm and handcuffing him to the bed would only break his bed, so it wasn't a good idea either.

Then an idea struck her; she walked over to his sink, wet a small towel with cold water, and filled a glass with the cold liquid. She wrung the towel out, so it wasn't dripping wet anymore. Afterwards, she returned to his bed, holding the towel behind her back.

 "Good morning, Sleeping Beauty. Time to wake up," she purred into his ear. 

Her face was only mere inches away from the side of his face as she grinned to herself. She kept repeating that until his eyelids would flatter open and she spilt a bit of the water on his face. Natalia waited for him to open his eyes to shove the wet towel into his shirt. Again, she grinned and kept her face only inches away from his. So he could feel her warm breath on his damp skin. She was optimistic that he wouldn't hurt her. But just in case, she kept holding the water glass to splash the rest into his face in defence as she didn't intend to fight him.

Words, or movement at all, usually threw him out of sleep. Usually, it was fitful at best and he rose at the same time each morning. Oftentimes earlier than he'd like and he'd wait in bed until the time arrived. When he was heavily dreaming, often, he did nothing until someone touched him.

This was different, though, a different sort of dream. Or the soft words were unlike those he usually received. It was almost enough to lure him away from sleep. Eventually, it did just that, but instead of jumping into action at someone so close to him without his knowledge, his eyes simply lifted groggily. The headache his dream formed left him waking harder, too.

Until a splash of water rained down onto his face. It wasn't much, but it made his shoulders jump up in surprise and in the quiet room, his arm's position changing made a loud whine. He was used to waking to the cold; he always awoke to the silence or the cold. Whether it was the room or the actual cold that bound him. The loose splash of water was so the opposite it caught him off guard instead of his usual instantly guarded nature.

Something equally wet but warm shoved down the shirt he'd been wearing and his shoulders bucked. His blue eyes dashed to the side, to the perpetrator and he blinked, shocked at who he found grinning widely at him.

"Natalia?" He accused, yet there was no bite to his voice, none of its usual weight. Instead, he felt her warm breath on his face, drying the water and it was so surprisingly different. He could hardly focus on it feeling nice as he quickly sprung up to dig the cloth out of his shirt, sliding down his chest.

Was this a joke of hers? Perhaps a prank before her graduation? He was no longer half asleep, but the strange events after waking had him reacting oddly.

Without thinking about it, he threw his metal arm out and grabbed her wrist to keep her near him, at least when she was sure to squirm. He tugged her loosely towards the edge of the bed, leaned over her and swung the damp towel around her head to shove it down the back of her uniform. A smirk danced on his face as he leaned back from her and looked down at her victoriously. Two could play.

She tried hard not to start laughing as the tiny splash of water obviously shocked him. It was new to her to see him react humanly to things happening around him. Fresh but also pleasant. It reminded her of her Winter than the Soldier everyone saw. Waking him was fun. Perhaps she should do it more often. Her grin, though even widened in amusement.

Once he sprung to action to get the cloth out of his shirt, Natalia couldn't keep to herself anymore. She started laughing as it just looked too funny. Oh, she would definitely do this again. She laughed hard and held her stomach as she got stitches from laughing. 

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.", she repeated again.

Her eyebrow rose as his hand darted out and his metal finger wrapped around her wrist. It wasn't so tight that he would break her wrist but still tight enough to make her crinkle her mouth in discomfort. 

<"Oh goddammit!">, she suddenly squealed as he pushed the wet cloth down her back. 

"Winter!" she complained and used the rest of the water to splash it into his face in defence. Next, she would use the moment of surprise to wrap one leg around his midriff to push him back onto the bed and sit down in the middle of his stomach. So she would at least be on top while trying to remove that goddamn cloth from her back with one arm.

Who was the sleeping beauty now? If he'd had time to pause, he would have wondered that he had been sleeping, but he was too caught up in their sudden game. His smirk widened as she shouted joyously. She complained and retaliated with a burst of water thrown into his face.

He let out a boisterous laugh, shoulders shaking with it until she threw her water in his face. He spluttered, water spewing less than it was running down his face. She threw him back down on the bed, and he landed with a soft grunt. He looked up at her and his breath caught. She was no longer young....

He swallowed the feeling, and instead, he chuckled once again at the situation.

The strange laughter made him realize where he was and he glanced around. No one was there and Natalia, suddenly on top of him, had him distracted.

"It's only fair," He grinned as she struggled to get to the rag. "You did start this."

He seemed to be caught off guard, and for once, it didn't seem like he looked at her like she was his student. It was an unusual feeling and she didn't really know how to react to this adequately. Her grin widened, though. This time it wasn't only amusing but perhaps a hint of gentleness, or was it pride? Something about being to surprise him like this made her feel proud and satisfied. Natalia definitely would need to do this. Perhaps not shortly because this man would be prepared. But in two weeks or so, his usual stoic ways would come back and this little game would've been forgotten.

"Oh really? I don't see why!" she complained, still trying to get it out. But instead of pulling it out of her suit, she pushed it further down, which made her jump a little.

"It's not me who slept over the breakfast and had guards fighting over who was supposed to wake our Sleeping Beauty here," she said and leaned forward even though her arm was still restricted. Again she stopped only mere inches away from his face as her lips were right next to his ear. 

"Can you let go of my wrist, please, Winter? Or at least remove the wet cloth from my suit? It's getting kind of uncomfortable because of that," she asked him with a soft voice, almost purring again. It was the same way she demonstrated to guards all the time to get her way instead of being reported.

"I do not usually sleep very long," He explained, unsure why he took the liberty to. Usually, he'd start awake much earlier than the rest of the world, but he never rested well. Sleeping late like this was unusual, but he did every once in a while. A dry, short laugh left him at her statement of the guards. "I recall one snuck up too close to me," He raised an insinuating eyebrow at her. "It didn't end well for him," He shrugged. When he slept like this... he awoke groggy, out of his senses and having anyone so close so suddenly, he attacked instantly.

Except... apparently for Natalia. He wondered if that meant he trusted her. It must; perhaps it was their mission together. She was indeed as effective as he, and she kept up.

Natalia came close to him, her voice lowering in an attractive lull. It was alluring... as he was sure it was meant to be, and his body did shiver in response. But it was not quite Natalia. It was missing that fire of hers.

With a very subtle whine from the position control in his fingers, he released her wrist as asked. He hadn't realized he'd still had a hold of it. 

"You can have your wrist," He said, and a smirk dragged up his lips, and he sat up swiftly, tossing her backwards onto the small bed.

 "But you'll have to get yourself out of what you started, Natalia." 

"What did he do? Kiss Sleeping Beauty awake?" she asked with a chuckle and tried her best to stay innocent. 

"Perhaps you prefer being woken by women. After all, it did end up well for me, didn't it?" she spoke casual and smiled at him. 

Natalia tilted her head as she had an excellent idea of what happened when people angered this man. She had seen it often enough to know how to dodge it and not be on the receiving end of it. In fact, she was aware that she had been playing with the fire this morning, but she also knew how to press his buttons correctly. She usually didn't end up doing it, though. So she was pleased to see that she could slip past his guard. In fact, she was really happy about it. Perhaps he did care for her more than a simple mission.

She could feel his body shiver lightly in response to how she spoke. It was almost disappointing that at least his body seemed to react the same way to her as most men did. 

"Thank you very much, Soldier..." she continued to lull him in as he released her wrist. Natalia was about to press a soft peck on his cheek to double the effect. Just as she was about to get off of him to remove the wet cloth from her back.

But he had been faster and sat up, sending her falling onto her back and off of him. She squealed a bit as the wet cloth touched even more of her bare skin. She was sure it left damp patches on the back of her suit.

"Oh, I will," she sat and elegantly moved her leg around him and rose to her feet swiftly like she was dancing.

"By the way, I think men usually react differently to having women suddenly in bed on top of them." she joked and sent him a flirty wink to give him an idea about what she was talking about. Finally, she reached backwards and managed to get the wet piece of fabric from her back.

She let out a high-pitched squeak and he smirked again. She confidently moved away and rose off the bed as if she were starting one of her ballet lessons. Truthfully he didn't know much about the subject for her, or any of the girls, it wasn't where he was supposed to be and he hardly strayed from that.

He didn't have time for his thoughts to stray to wondering if this was a new exception. Because Natalia's words and the wink made his thoughts falter. His eyes searched her face and mentally stretched for an appropriate response, but his mind fumbled for words. He... didn't really know what to say.

His face twisted slightly, and his lips pressed down as he fought for a response. He was thankful Natalia was busying herself with the cloth and he still tried to resist with a reply. Although obviously, he knew what she was speaking of, that wasn't what was making him stall. So, instead, what did he say to her? To the young girl, who was not so young now, he had trained thus far. She was to graduate in a few days and would no longer be part of his mission to teach the Red Room Academy girls.

What did that make her? Nothing was the logical response. But Natalia was far from nothing, and he couldn't wrap his head around that.

<"How would you have me react?"> He asked very seriously. The Soldier didn't pay attention that he'd switched back to Russian, or rather, he hadn't noticed he'd been speaking in English with her.

Even though she retrieved the washing cloth from her suit, she did notice his falter in answering her. She hadn't thought he would take her joke so seriously. In truth, she hadn't thought of her own statement a lot. It just slipped her lips like so many things before. She felt his gaze on her and tried to stay calm and not have her cheeks heat up.

Had she crossed the line from appropriate to inappropriate between the two? To her, the line was still blurry even after all this time together. She had seen him as her only friend and somewhat older brother. But obviously, things had shifted a bit. No one flirted with both options. This wasn't a thing she liked to dwell over. Yet she probably should soon. Her graduation from this program was only days away, which meant a parting between the two. But she didn't want that at all.

His question caught her off guard and she dropped her luring smile. She didn't have an answer. Natalia even noticed his slip back to Russian, which meant her to watch her words even more. She tended to speak the truth and questions, which better were left unanswered, in English. He tolerated that habit, but Russian meant watching her words. There was the switch between what had just happened and his usual cold self. 

She raised her chin and answered with a question herself, falling into Russian herself <"Why does it matter? It was just a game, wasn't it?">

She raised her chin and usually seemed displeased by something when she did this. His question must be the cause. He couldn't understand why but he let it go. Natalia had her quirks. 

He shrugged his right shoulder in response and could not possibly answer that. It was her game. Although reflecting, he had followed along quickly.

How strange.... his face grew distant as he searched for some memory to correlate with all this... But he could not come up with one. The Soldier finally shook himself, and as he appraised the situation more clearly and Natalia stood there, he refocused.

<"You were sent because I am required, yes?"> He asked her and glanced about the room for the time. But there wasn't any clock for him to know. He must need to train the girls or do some other task by this point. His continual mission here did not wait. 

Her tactic to make him think of something else seemed to work out. He shrugged and Natalia guessed that meant that their prior behaviour was gone. So it seemed like they were back to business.

And she was correct. Here he was back to the mission or whatever reason they had sent for him. 

<"I don't know. I just overheard them talking about waking you. But I suppose you are needed or missed a class with the girls,"> she spoke and looked at him with a guarded gaze.

<"Who is Steve? Did you know him before the Red Room, Winter?">, she asked him suddenly and looked at him. She probably shouldn't mention it now, but this moment was as good as any other. Even though he probably wanted to get started.

<"You mentioned the name in your dream..."> she explained, hoping he would buy the explanation. This time she stayed in Russian, hoping he wouldn't catch on to how important the answer to that question was to her.

Missed a class? He frowned sharply. No, surely someone would have retrieved him. He could not forget their class, for that would be a failure of his mission. That would not be acceptable.

He looked over at her as she asked of a man. Steve.... the headache that had fled since he woke seemed to return hurriedly and he could feel the throbbing beat in his temple.

<"I..."> Before the red room... before that.... the space between his eyebrows knitted together as he thought hard on the question. It troubled him greatly and his eyes dulled and distanced with the effort. The headache grew... he could... only remember the cold. The stiff, painful cold. He.... he remembered waking, retching as he stumbled from a machine unable to move his numbed body.... so cold... he'd fallen onto the floor and was later dragged elsewhere when he'd stopped.

His face pinched further, and before that.... he... He did not know. There were his missions, he was sure. But, yes, his handler told him of the red room, that he would be doing something different. Training to bring the state more assets.

His face smoothed some thinking on that. That was surely the answer.

Natalia continued, but she must be confused.

<"I did not dream,"> He explained, his voice calm and stoic. He didn't dream. He would remember if he did, surely. He woke with a headache, but he didn't dream. Certainly not of a man, sometimes of pain... of shocks that burned... sometimes of debriefings, but he didn't really dream. He hadn't last night. Something so fresh he would remember.

Natalia watched him as he seemed greatly confused. She received more facial expressions from him than she mainly did. He was a blank man and she had grown used to it. As a teenager, she had searched for feelings and expressions more times than she could count but never found any. Eventually, she had grown tired of it and busied her curiosity with something else until recently. Things had shifted again when she discovered that cursed file. Of course, she had lost interest again after their mission until this morning. He could tell her what he wanted, but she knew he had been dreaming.

She walked over to him and placed her fingers gently on his temples. She could almost feel how tensed up he was becoming.

<"We all dream. Even you, Winter. We just forget those dreams from time to time,"> she spoke gently and started to massage his temples in circle motions of her hands. She applied light pressure while she did so. It helped her when she had headaches from time to time. She wasn't even sure if he did have one, but she felt somewhat guilty over bringing confusion to him.

<"I know you don't want me to think this way. But sometimes, it's good to question them. It's what keeps me sane.So perhaps you should for once try it as well and learn something about yourself.">, she told him just above a whisper. 

She knew that it was dangerous for her to voice this. Depending on who she talked with, they wouldn't hesitate to alarm Kudrin or even other higher-ups. It was essential to think of a mission's success, stay quiet, and follow orders. She dropped her hands to her side and looked at him with a frown. She stood there quietly and moved out of his room to search for her own answers that she wouldn't get from him.

He fought the sudden urge to throw his hands up and push hers away from his head. It came on so suddenly, and after being so relaxed with her earlier, he fought the rushing instinct to protect near his temples where she touched. Instead, he still felt tense as she massaged his temples. How did she know how much his head throbbed now? It was soothing, somehow, despite how her hands near his head made the hairs on his neck stand.

<"I've never dreamt,"> He spoke unsteadily. His hushed voice was throaty from the pain in his head. It felt more like he was confessing something to her, and he didn't know why that was. What could he possibly have to admit?

Forget them? He wasn't sure of it, but he wasn't sure of this gentle but sad look that had fallen on her face. With her so close, he had ample time to study it.

<"Natalia,"> He sighed as she spoke of treason. It wasn't actual treason; he knew Natalia would never betray the state. But she had never truly complied with the red room's way either. Her focus always wandered. But she would graduate soon and needn't worry about her thoughts so much.

He didn't argue with her, but he didn't think he was capable of that. So instead, he struggled with this sudden, hard-to-decipher feeling her words coaxed from him. Dread... maybe, not fear so much as a fleeting feeling of loss. For some reason, the Soldier didn't honestly believe there was as much to know as Natalia wanted. He was Russia's and Hydra's Soldier... and he wasn't sure there was anything more in him. Or ever had been, as much as she looked for it now.

He let the thoughts slip away; the pain was growing too much. But his hand hesitantly reached up to grab the one she had near his temple. He'd unknowingly relaxed to her soft touch there. But before he could reach her, she was already withdrawing her hands and stepping away.

She stepped out, that same look on her face. It was not a good one, but it softened her features. He watched her leave, and an errant thought came to mind. 

He wondered if that would be the last he saw of Natalia Romanova.

The Soldier hoped not. 

It was the type of thought he simply did not have; thoughts towards his own future were foreign. But there it was, stuck there for him to think of over and over. So slowly, he dressed, changing out of his wet shirt she'd made, and with slow and heavy steps that, he headed towards the training rooms.

Most of the time, Natalia was surrounded by Kudrin, to her displeasure. That woman really hit a nerve and she didn't even know why. Perhaps it was how she still treated her and had approached her as a child. After that, it was simply a mutual dislike. But Kudrin had considered it her role to help Nat with the precautions for her graduation.

The bit of leisure time, she either used the empty ballet room to dance for herself or used to learn things about James Buchanan Barnes. The deeper she dug, the more she found out about the man. Natalia was sure there was something accurate about the file even though the Winter Soldier didn't seem to remember anything. So she reread the books of Captain America and checked those facts with the stolen file. The only thing which made absolutely no sense to her was that her Winter Soldier was still so young. The described man would be at least in his 40s or 50s.

It was only one more day until her graduation ceremony, and she grew nervous about her future. The feeling was doubtful for her and she tried her best to simply ignore it. She entered the Winter Soldier's room to say goodbye and thank him. Neither of them knew what was coming next for them and Natalia was sure she would never see him again.

<"Hello.">, she spoke and continued <"Hopefully I'm not bothering?"> She walked over to him and felt like she didn't belong there. The redhead hadn't talked to him anymore since waking him up the other day.

<"I...I just wanted to thank you in case...in case we don't see each other again,"> she tried to explain and gave him a short smile. 

She looked at him, unsure and finally gave up on her charade. Natalia hurried over to him and enveloped him in a tight hug. She knew this would catch him off guard and she shouldn't hug him. Natalia was lucky if he wouldn't throw her through the room. But the redhead couldn't help herself and she was able to take the pain. He was the closest thing to a family she ever had.

"I'm going to miss you, Winter," she whispered into his ear and placed a kiss on his cheek. 

"Thank you for everything. And remember to question - do it for me!"

He'd just finished a training session with three of the younger girls. They were new, and he had to go much easier on them than he was used to. They were still young teens and while they'd been in the program for years, their fighting techniques were not honed well. That was his purpose here, of course, so he would slowly school them as they grew.

He was in between two sessions when Natalia slipped in. It seemed some time since he'd seen her. The Soldier didn't say anything, but he simply nodded negatively as she asked if she was bothering him. She seemed... nervous, or perhaps just around him?

That thought made it all the more surprising when she suddenly swept towards him and wrapped her arms tightly around him. He was shocked, but he didn't move to break or return it. She... thanked him? Expressed she'd miss him, and he was still silent.

She kissed his cheek and as she told him to do it for her, a ghost of a shadow passed over his face. But it wasn't until she'd almost reached the doorway when words pressed out of him.

"Be careful," He called. It was impulsive, but he knew without any real thoughts that she would need to be careful about what lay ahead. She should be cautious with the way they worked, the way it always worked for him.

She left, and he then went for his next session, too.

Relief washed over her as he didn't move to fight her. Instead, she simply hugged him and to her, it didn't even matter that he didn't reciprocate her hug. Of course, Natalia hadn't expected him to do it, but just for once, she needed to express how much she genuinely liked him. Of course, she was aware that it was unusual, but still...

She moved to the door and she was almost disappointed that he neither said nor had done anything. The slightest bit of reaction would've been nice. She hadn't seen the ghost moving over his face for once. She had simply enjoyed the very one-sided hug. Her hand was on the doorknob as he called out. She turned her head and smiled, almost sad, at him "I'm always careful, Winter."

He had no idea what she had done for him already. But, it was too late for careful. If someone found the file in her bedroom... Things wouldn't end well.

The next few days were a blur for her. Nothing made sense. She remembered waking up day after day with pain in her lower body. The wound had opened itself once after the operation. So she had required more rest than necessary. Soon she was restless, though and they included her in a mission. Her wound had primarily healed but still was very sensitive to touch. At least it hadn't become inflamed. She dressed and checked the bandage around her lower abdomen one last time before she closed the jeans. Natalia dressed casually again, but this time had the Widow Bite hidden underneath her sleeves. She followed a guard quietly to the room where she was supposed to meet her partner.

Natalia didn't have high hopes for her partner. In truth, she had argued against doing it independently, but the others had declined, saying she needed backup. It might've seemed like most people had sulked the rest of the debriefing. But in truth, she had listened and accepted. No questions on her part. 

The guard opened the door for her to walk through. She nodded at the man politely and stepped inside. <"Your partner will be here in a few minutes,"> the guard told her and Natalia ignored her, waiting for the door to close again.

————————————

Notes: This is the first story of a full series around Bucky and Natasha's unseen past in the MCU. Stay tuned!

Leave a like or comment on what you think will happen next or what you loved! It'll be great to hear from you! If you enjoyed the story, feel free to treat me to a coffee on KoFi!

#buckynat #natasha romanoff #bucky barnes #bucky x natasha #fanfic #james buchanan barnes #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #natalia romanova #natasha romanov #winterwidow #mention of steve rogers #Mention of captain America #colliding worlds

[foreverindreamlandd]

The Sergeant's Heart +9+

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Reader

Series Summary: Sergeant Bucky Barnes has just joined the 107th, and he’s keen on learning the ins and outs of war from the best medic in the regiment, you.

WC: 6.5k

Warnings: Canon shit happens :(

A/N: Listen just like get tissues before reading and just know I'm sorry. And I love you. But also I'm very proud of this chapter. <3

Also hey @w0nderw0man91 remember when I told you that I had two ideas for one of your requests? One was fluff and the other was angst? Guess which one this is going to be. :,)

Series Masterlist / Series Playlist

+++++++++++++

Your eyes would slowly flutter open from time to time, a nice reprieve from the constant darkness beneath your eyelids.

Images moved slowly through the thin veil of your barely open lids. Sunlight peeked through, the feel of arms cradling you registering in your brain as they held you. You were laying in the back of a jeep, you thought, racing toward some unknown destination.

The relief was short-lived as darkness found you once more.

+++++++

A harsh rocking stirred your eyes open next time as your body moved from side to side on the soft surface you laid on.

You were surrounded by metal. A window was next to you and you faintly registered trees whirring past you.

“She’s gotta wake up Steve,” an angelic voice waded through the waters of your mind. It was the loveliest sound you had ever heard.

Though lovely, it was also broken, coated with such devastating despair.

You tried to reach a hand out to the angel, to tell them it was okay, but it was impossible to move.

Another voice responded to the angel, but you couldn’t hear them. Your ears only searched for one sound, desperate for it to return.

When it did, rage replaced sadness.

“I’m going to rip Hydra to shreds. Destroy every last one of them.”

You wanted to ask what happened. Why they were so angry.

But darkness beckoned, calling you back to its warm embrace.

You prayed you would find the strength to return to the angel soon.

+++++++++++++

Finally, the darkness set you free, and you were able to open your eyes once again.

Only to close them willingly from the brightness of the harsh lighting above you.

Learning from this mistake, you slowly blinked them open, allowing a moment for them to adjust to your surroundings.

White. Lots of white. Your thumb stroked the wool blanket resting over you. Beeping sounds to your right compelled you to tilt your head to see what it was, but before your eyes could make their way to the monitors, they found a much better sight.

Chestnut hair on top of a sleeping figure leaning on the side of your bed, hand holding yours.

Bucky.

Instincts ignored any sense of logic as you leaned forward to reach for that lovely head of hair. The consequences revealed themselves instantly as pain rippled throughout your body and you hissed.

The sound jolted Bucky awake and his head shot up, displaying red-rimmed eyes surrounded by dark, unforgiving circles.

He looked at you in a daze, as if not completely believing that you were conscious. After blinking a few times and realizing that he was not, in fact, dreaming, his eyes widened and he jumped forward.

His hands cradled your face as fresh tears pooled in those beautiful blue eyes, now boring into you.

“Hi,” he whispered out.

You tried to chuckle but it quickly turned into a nasty coughing fit due to the fact that the inside of your mouth was a desert. Bucky moved back, looking to the side of your bed for the glass of water that sat on the table. He held it to your mouth as you took a few sips.

“Hi,” you croaked, voice a bit raspy from the lack of use. You took in his haggard features once more and frowned. “Are you okay?”

He sighed, chin dropping to his chest and he pinched the bridge of his nose. A small, bitter laugh escaped him.

“Y/n, baby, you’re in a hospital bed recovering from a bullet wound and you’re asking if I’m okay?”

You shrugged. “I’m a medic. It’s what I do.”

His expression looked pained. He sat on the side of the bed taking your hands in his, bringing them to his mouth as he peppered soft kisses along them.

“I’m feeling a hell of a lot better now that you’re awake. That you’re alive.”

“All thanks to my amazing assistant.”

He shook his head, jaw tightening.

Silence.

It was an uncomfortable one, a silence you weren’t used to sharing with Bucky. With him, everything felt natural. Safe. Comforting. You could spend hours next to each other without speaking a word and it would barely phase you. His presence itself was enough to keep you grounded.

Now, it felt like you were on totally different planets.

You tried to distract yourself from the discomfort by examining your wound. You pushed the wool blanket aside, then lifted your shirt to reveal a large bandage patched over your stomach. Based on the wear of the tape and the small spot of blood of the cotton, you figured it was an old enough dressing to be worth loosening open to check out the mark Hydra left behind.

Your fought back a gasp at the sight of it.

Yikes.

It was bad. Really bad. Nasty, red skin surrounded the stitched area, stuff coming out of the wound that should not be there. This was the aftermath of what you had feared would happen.

Even though things were off between you, Bucky was still, as always, able to read your thoughts perfectly.

“Infection. Bad one. Took many attempts to finally get it out of your system.”

You nodded, not surprised based on the damage it left behind. “How long was I out for? Where are we?”

He looked around the room. “London.” His thumb stroked the wire around your finger. “It took a while to get here. Almost too long. We had to stop at a few camps because all of the moving around was causing your body too much stress. Gretchen and Jane said that you owed the two of them letters and very expensive drinks when you finally woke up for all of the stress you put them under when we stopped at the 107th. They were the ones who finally got the infection under control, thank God. There were a few times-” his voice cracked, “A few times we almost lost ya. You’ve been out for two weeks.”

You let out a low whistle. “Damn.”

He had a hard time looking you in the eyes now, his gaze darting from your hands, your bandaged stomach, various parts of the room. Anywhere else but your eyes.

“I should, um, I should get the guys to let you know that you’re awake.” Bucky moved to stand up. “They’ve been going crazy with worry. And I’ll get a nurse to check on you-”

“Bucky, no.” You pulled him back to sit by your side. “Stay with me a bit. Just the two of us okay?”

You extended your hand to cup his cheek and he leaned into it. A slight crack of composure shifted in his features but he pushed it down, offering you a small smile instead.

“Alright,” he nodded, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. You sighed at the feel of it.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” you whispered and his lips tightened against your skin.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re here. That’s what matters.”

You nodded, then gingerly shuffled to the side, fighting back a grimace from the pain in your stomach so as to not worry Bucky even further. Once you made room, you pulled him to lay next to you. “When was the last time you slept, Buck?”

His head nestled into the crook of your shoulder. “I’ve slept. Here and there. Mostly here.”

“Try to get some rest now, okay?”

He shook his head. “I’m fine, doll, I swear. I’ll lay here for a bit but I should really get some nurses to make sure you’re okay.”

“Bucky, look at me.”

He stilled, as if wishing he could refuse your request. Then again, when had he ever succeeded at saying no to you?

Slowly his gaze finally met yours.

You wanted to argue with him, to yell at him that he was the furthest thing from fine, that he could talk to you about it.

But that was never your relationship with Bucky. He spoke when he was ready, and he knew you’d do the same. It had just been a while since he forced himself not to. Since he chose not to find comfort in you.

So instead of fighting, instead of focusing on the sting of his guardedness, you leaned forward and kissed the man you loved, trying to give him any sort of comfort you could.

His whole body melted into your lips, hand reaching up to the back of your head to pull you closer. It was a gentle movement, but you could feel the desperation in it, the need to keep you close. The combination of joy and fear at the fact that he had thought there might not be any more moments like this to be shared with you.

You waited until he was ready to pull away, allowing him to savor this time as much as he needed to. You needed it, too, you realized, clinging to him with just as much desperation.

Once he did, you looked him in the eye once more and whispered, “I love you.”

He blinked back tears as the corners of his mouth turned upwards. “I cannot begin to describe how good it feels to hear those words from you.”

You scrunched your nose with a smile. “And I plan on saying it a million more times.”

He pursed his lips. “Doesn’t seem like enough if you ask me, how about ten million more?”

You giggled. “I’m honestly aiming to reach a hundred million. How’s that?”

A nod. “Now we’re talkin’.”

“Better get started then.” You leaned forward for another kiss. “I love you, Bucky Barnes.”

“And I love you, Y/n Y/l/n. Forever.”

++++++++++++++

Bucky managed to sleep for an hour or so before a nurse came in to change your bandage. While she worked, he finally walked out of the room to let the others know you were up.

The guys were overjoyed to see you awake. They surrounded your bed, giant grins and glistening eyes painted across each face.

“Good to have you back, kid,” Dum Dum said, patting your shoulder.

“Does it hurt?” Jonathan asked.

You shrugged. “A little. But nothing I can’t handle. Way better than when everything happened. I gotta say though, it ain’t fun being on this side of an injury. I definitely prefer being the one to patch it all up. This shit sucks.”

Dum dum howled with laughter. “Damn straight! Now you know why I plan on naming all of my kids after ya.”

They stayed for a bit, filling you in on everything you had missed the past two weeks. Bucky took the opportunity to walk to the back of the room with Steve. You tried to look over in between the conversations with the guys and get a feel of what they were chatting about, but they spoke too softly for you to hear. It looked serious though. Steve seemed to be frustrated at whatever Bucky was saying.

When it was over, Bucky nodded as Steve patted him on the shoulder and walked out of the room. He returned to his spot by your side, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

“Everything okay?” you whispered into his ear as everyone was talking.

He nodded, kissing your temple. “Tell ya later, sweetheart.”

+++++++++

“Absolutely not.”

The guys left a few minutes ago, allowing you to finally pressure Bucky into telling you about his conversation with Steve. You did not like what you were hearing.

They tracked down Dr. Zola, Schmitt’s number two guy. He was going to be on a train traveling through the Alps in 24 hours. The plan was to ambush the train and capture him.

The information Zola would have would be….invaluable. It was exactly the move you needed to make to be able to get the intel on how to take down the final Hydra base.

But that obviously meant that such an important person would be a very well-protected, very dangerous person to take as a hostage.

Bucky crossed his arms. “Y/n, this has been the goal all along. We gotta take down Hydra and this is how we do it. We’re so close!”

“But why now? Why can’t it wait until I’m healed up enough to go out with you guys!”

He snorted. “I’m sorry, doll, but your Commando days are over. You did your part, and now your job is to get well and never let a single scratch make its way on that beautiful body ever again, ya hear?”

You groaned. “Bucky, I’m a medic. I’ve seen soldiers recover and go back into battle within weeks of being injured. I shouldn’t be an exception just becaus-”

“But you are an exception!” He snapped back and you flinched and the volume of his voice. “Do you really think I’m going to risk you getting hurt again? What if you get shot and this time you can’t fucking patch yourself up enough to survive? You think I’d be able to survive that?”

“So what? I’m supposed to just let you go off on a dangerous mission and risk your life? Don’t act like you’re the only one who knows what it feels like to almost lose the one they love.” Your voice broke. “I know that pain. I know that fear. I can’t go through it again.”

Bucky’s face softened and he walked over to your bed and sat down, facing you.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just,” he took your hand, “We’re so close. So fucking close to all of this being over. And then maybe we can go home where we’ll both be safe and we can forget about this nightmare and finally start our lives together.” His eyes met yours. “I can’t pass this up. I need to keep you safe this time. I let my guard down for a second two weeks ago and look at what happened? Someone was able to shoot you right in front of me.” He shook his head, blinking back tears.

Your heart broke at the sight of him. “Bucky, this isn’t your fault that I’m her-

“And if you’re there,” he cut you off, “I’m only going to be able to focus on you. I could put myself and the guys in danger because I’m never going to experience what happened when you almost…..I won’t do it.”

You stared at him, both sets of eyes filled with tears as you silently pleaded with one another. To stay, to go, to just let this be done with.

That last part couldn’t happen though. Not yet.

Realization of the inevitability set in and you let out a shuddering breath. Tears streamed down your face and you nodded.

“Okay.” Bucky reached forward to wipe your tears away with this thumb. “Just, please promise to come back to me, okay?”

He paused, thinking on that before he gave you a soft smile. Then, he pulled his hands away and reached for his tags, taking them off his neck.

“Here,” he said as he handed them to you, “Let this be my promise.”

You shook your head, pushing the tags away. “No way, hun. You need those. What if something happens and they need-”

“Well, I’ll make sure nothing happens, right?” He placed the tags over your head and around your neck. “I promise that I’ll be back to retrieve these, okay? I’ll come back for my tags and for my girl.”

You gazed down at them, stroking the engravings before looking back to Bucky. “I’m going to be pissed if you break this promise, you hear? I’ll hunt you down to the ends of the earth until I find you so I can return these damn tags to you myself.”

He feigned a serious expression and saluted you. “Yes, ma’am.”

You chuckled, though the joke did nothing to quell the pit in your stomach. “When do you leave?”

“Two hours.”

Your eyes closed to fight the fresh pool of tears. “So soon.”

He took your face in his hands once more and your eyes fluttered open, meeting a storm of blue.

“And I’ll be back as soon as possible, okay?”

You nodded, and he pulled you in until your lips met his. A deep, passionate, pained kiss.

He spent the next two hours laying next to you, holding you in his arms. Very little was said during that time. There was too much to say, and yet words could not do it justice. So you just clung to one another.

When Steve entered, he gave Bucky a single nod and offered you a small smile before heading back into the hallway.

Bucky turned to you, eyes soft.

“I’ll see you soon, doll.”

You leaned forward and kissed him with everything you had. Every piece of yourself, your whole heart and soul, pouring into his lips.

“I love you.”

“I love you, Y/n.”

He stood, walking to the door to your room. Right as he stepped out, he turned to look at you one last time, giving you a wink and your favorite boyish grin.

You smiled back, rolling your eyes and waving him off.

The last thing you heard was the echo of Bucky’s laugh through the hallway.

+++++++++++

Three days later, they returned.

Well.

Not everyone.

You were well enough to no longer be bedridden, so when Peggy ran to your room to tell you that their cars were pulling up, you gingerly speed-walked outside to greet them.

The first thing you noticed was a group of soldiers pushing Dr. Zola past you and inside the building.

The second thing you noticed were the faces of your friends, your brothers.

Steve was the last one your eyes found, and seeing his face was when you knew.

Pain. So much pain.

Peggy gripped her arm around you, understanding also hitting her.

Time slowed. Your body went heavy, as if sinking underwater. You put all of your strength into shaking your head from side to side, still trying to deny the obvious. The irreversible.

Steve said I’m sorry but you couldn’t hear the words. You could only register the movement of his mouth. Tears were streaming down his face.

Jonathan walked over and pulled you in for a hug, but you couldn’t take your eyes off Steve.

I’m sorry.

Your neck suddenly felt heavy and you looked down to notice the tags hanging on your chest. You studied the engraved letters.

James Buchanen Barnes.

Bucky.

++++++++++++

Grief is a funny thing.

You could go through it a number of times, lose every important person in your life.

Yet it never got easier.

You realized this when Jonny died. After losing your grandparents, and both your parents, you figured that the pain of losing a loved one would hurt less. You had already experienced it, knew how much it hurt, you should grow used to the pain.

But when Jonny died, you discovered that was not the case. The sorrow would rip through every fiber of your being and tear open every emotional wound you had spent so much time stitching up, as if it were the first time you had ever felt such devastation.

Losing Bucky was worse than any loss you had ever experienced before.

His death caused a part of you to die as well.

Because you had lost a whole life.

One filled with joy and comfort and love.

Ripped away from you in an instant.

There was nothing that could hurt more than that.

The strangest part was that it still didn’t feel real. When Jonny died, you knew it was the end, you knew he was gone. Maybe that was because it happened right in front of you, and you witnessed yourself the moment your brother’s soul left his body.

This felt just like when you last saw Bucky before he was captured by Hydra, when you knew that he was still alive. A nagging part of your brain insisted that this was the case once more.

But Steve told you what happened. The height that he fell from.

You don’t survive that. You knew this.

Steve wouldn’t have accepted it if he had even a shred of hope that his best friend could still be alive.

So now you lived in a constant state of forcing yourself to accept the fact that Bucky was dead. That he was gone. There was no saving him this time.

Steve was a wreck when he told you what happened. He sobbed as he apologized for letting Bucky fall. He blamed himself for the death of the man you both loved so much.

Of course it wasn’t his fault. You told Steve over and over that it wasn’t as you hugged each other in a desperate embrace, both trying to accept the unacceptable.

Losing Bucky was never going to be something you would accept.

Instead, you would just have to live with the pain for whatever time you had left on this earth.

And with whatever time you had, you would make sure Hydra burned to the ground.

Once and for all.

++++++++++++

ONE MONTH LATER

You took a deep breath before tapping the closed door in front of you.

“Peggy?” you called out softly. “Are you almost ready?”

Heeled shoes tapped across the room until the door opened, and red-rimmed eyes met yours with a lifeless smile.

“Not ready at all, but I don’t think I ever will be. Guess we should just get on with it then, right?”

You nodded, taking her hand in yours.

It had been two weeks since the final Hydra base had been taken down. The bombs programmed to take down the entirety of the United States now in the bottom of the ocean.

Alongside your beloved friend, Steve.

You had been by Peggy’s side in the comms room at the base as Steve said his final words, hand squeezing her shoulder as she lived through the unbearable, just as you had not long ago.

Seeing her pain brought yours back with a force, but you knew you needed to be there for her. Just as she had been there for you.

Now, it was time to officially say goodbye to the men the two of you loved.

You were currently traveling from your hotel in Washington D.C. to just across the Potomac River, where the entirety of the 107th, as well as the highest decorated officers in the United States Army, plus the Commander in Chief, gathered at Arlington National Cemetery.

You stood alongside Peggy, the Commandos, Chris, Gretchen, and Jane as various officers and government officials spoke about the legacy of Captain America.

Dum Dum spoke about Bucky as well, who was to be buried right next to his best friend after you and Peggy argued with Phillipps until you were both blue in the face when any other option was discussed.

He talked about Bucky’s leadership, how good of a man he was. Kind, funny, and charming as hell (which got a good laugh from the crowd, and you managed to chuckle through your tears).

When he was done, he looked at you with a single nod. You glanced over at Peggy who squeezed your hand before you walked to meet Dum Dum taking the mic from him.

The moment Phillipps asked if you wanted to speak at the ceremony, your immediate reaction was to say no. How could you possibly talk about Bucky without choking on tears within the first ten seconds? Why put yourself through that kind of pain?

Why? Well, because it would be for Bucky.

You could do this for him.

You stared at the ground for a second, already overwhelmed by the number of eyes on you. Then, after taking a deep breath, you looked back up, eyes glued to the ones belonging to your friends. The faces of those you knew and loved. The ones who had gone above and beyond to support you during the worst month imaginable.

Jonathan gave you a small smile, nodding his head assuringly, and you found the strength to begin.

“Hello everyone,” you cleared your throat to try and stop it from shaking. “Thank you for coming today to honor the memory of Captain Steve Rogers and Sergeant James Barnes.” His name was almost caught on the lump growing in your throat. “Though the loss of these two individuals brings such unimaginable sorrow to us all, I’m glad that we’re able to stand together today to remember the legacy they both leave behind.

“Of course, Steve was an amazing soldier and incredible leader. Being able to work alongside him and the rest of the Commandos is some of my proudest work. He was like a brother to me. I’ll miss laughing with him, or listening to his ridiculously inspiring speeches that could turn anyone into a diehard Patriot.” The crowd laughed. “He trusted us as much as we trusted him, and without that support, and his sacrifice, we would never have been able to take down Hydra.”

You closed your eyes, taking another deep breath before continuing. Your free hand reached to your chest, holding onto the dog tags that had been around your neck this past month. “I’d like to talk about Sergeant James Barnes, known as Bucky by most. He was notorious for that, always making sure you never called him by the name James. It was almost a joke to him, he’d barely wait until you had finished saying his legal name before he’d plead with you to call him Bucky. As if he needed you to instantly feel comfortable with him, that you were a comrade instead of a stranger.

“The first day I met Bucky was his first day at the camp of the 107th. He was fresh off a plane from Brooklyn, brand new to the horrors of war and ready to enter into the fight for his country. But before that, he spent whatever free time he had putting himself to work. He hadn’t been in camp more than an hour before he was following me on recovery rounds, changing bandages, cleaning a wound on a soldier’s ass,” more laughter from the crowd, even yourself, “And getting to know the men and women he was going to be leading. Even the next day, before going to the line for the first time, he was handing out rations to everyone, that charming as hell grin on his face.” You smiled through your tears at the memory.

“Bucky is- was one of the most inspiring men I had ever met. He worked tirelessly to ensure that the soldiers he led, even ones he didn’t, were taken care of. That they felt safe and supported. Most of us know how invaluable that is during war. It was so easy to look up to him because he made sure to be by your side whenever he was needed. Even during the attack at Azzano, where we were completely ambushed and no hope was in sight, he tried his best to get as many soldiers out and away to safety, including myself.” Your voice broke at the last few words. “And when Steve rescued them, Bucky was insistent that everyone be checked on by the medics before himself. He was truly one of the best. A genuine, strong, good man, who will be missed beyond comprehension.

“I could go on for hours talking about how amazing of a man Bucky Barnes was, how my life and the lives of many, many others have been changed for the better from knowing him. But I think what we need now is to all share our stories of Steve and Bucky. That’s how a legacy lives on, not from one voice, but the voice of many. So please, feel free to share your stories of Bucky with me. I would be happy to share some myself, including the time I scared the shi- um, I mean, heck out of him by convincing him that the pine needles crawling up his neck were spiders.”

The final chorus of laughter brought another smile to your face as you handed the microphone to Phillipps, who gave you a rare smile before you walked back to your group.

They all took turns wrapping their arms around you, whispering words of comfort in your ears.

Once the ceremony was over, you all started to make your way to a nearby pub to drink all of your feelings away.

You were only 20 feet away from the burial site when a soft voice beckoned for you behind your shoulder.

“Excuse me? Y/n?”

You turned to the unfamiliar voice, and as your gaze landed on two figures, you stopped in your tracks, every ounce of air knocked out of your body with a force.

Two women, one middle-aged and the other in her early 20s. Both with eyes a shade of blue you’d never thought you’d see again.

“Mrs. Barnes?”

She smiled, blue eyes brimming with tears and she stepped closer. “Please. Call me Winnifred.” She looked to the younger woman by her side. “This is Rebecca.”

You nodded, overcome with emotion that caused any words you wanted to say to die on your tongue. All you could do was give into the urge to close the gap between the three of you and pull Bucky’s mom into a tight embrace.

She let out a sob the moment your arms wrapped around you, and she hugged you back. Her arms rubbed circles around your shoulder blades.

You pulled back after a few seconds. “Sorry,” you said breathlessly. “You probably don’t even know who I am and I just decided to say to hell with your personal space.”

Her hand cupped your cheek as she looked at you fondly. “Of course I know who you are. You’re the woman who stole my son’s heart.”

Your own heart suddenly felt like it might give out at any moment. “Bucky told you about me?”

“We didn’t get too many letters from him,” Rebecca chimed in, her voice soft, “But the last three we got over the past year spoke of little else besides you. It feels like I know you already.” She blushed, a small smile creeping across her face. “You’re like the sister I never had.”

Oh God. The tears.

You pull Rebecca in for a hug before she could catch the composure of your face breaking, swaying her from side to side.

“And you’re mine, Becs.” You pulled away to catch Rebecca beaming at you and you smiled back. “Bucky told me so many things about the two of you. I feel so lucky that he got to share so many stories with me about his life growing up. He loved you both so, so much.”

Winnifred took your hand. “He loved you too, honey. That much was clear in every word he wrote. And hearing you talk about him just now, that lovely speech you gave, I know that every wonderful thing he said about you was true. I’m so glad we finally got to meet you. I just wish,” she choked back a sob, “I wish my boy could be here so I could see that glowing smile he would have had when he introduced his lovely girl to us.”

Your jaw tightened and you nodded, feeling the same exact way.

“Listen,” you started, clearing your throat, “A bunch of us are going to a pub nearby. We wanted to spend more time together and share more stories about Bucky and Steve. Please come. We’d love to tell you more about your son, and we’d love to hear more from the two of you.”

She grinned. “That sounds nice.” She looked to Rebecca who nodded back. “We’d love to.”

Taking the hands of the mother and sister of the man you loved, you led them to your next destination.

It had been a while since you laughed so hard.

Only your Commando brothers could do that for you.

Currently, Jacques and Gabe were arguing in French about the details of a story involving Bucky and a prank he pulled on Steve. You weren’t sure where they currently stood, but it involved mud and someone’s undergarments.

Winnifred and Rebecca had tears in their eyes from laughing along, not having a damn clue what was going on.

“Let’s not forget the time Bucky put rocks in Falsworth’s pack before challenging him to a race up one of the mountains in France,” Dum Dum cackled out.

Falsworth chuckled. “That bastard knew it was the only way he could beat me.”

“Didn’t you two have a rematch where you had Bucky put rocks in his bag and yours was empty and he still won?” Jonathan quipped back with a sly grin.

Falsworth scowled. “I was still tired from the first round.”

You rolled your eyes, standing up. “Alright, who needs another drink?”

Cheers erupted from the table and you giggled, heading towards the bar.

Peggy was sitting there by herself, nursing a whiskey. You sat next to her.

“How are you?”

She sighed, giving you a side smile.

“Drinking my problems away. Seems to be the usual these days.”

You lean your head on her shoulder.

“I wish I could say it gets easier. That it sucks less. But I unfortunately can’t give you that answer yet, if at all.”

You felt her shake her head, voice breaking as she spoke. “I shouldn’t even be complaining. What Steve and I had was….nothing compared to you and Bucky. You two had your whole lives planned out and I was too stubborn to tell him how I felt.”

You looked back up and met her tear-filled eyes, feeling the wetness in your own. “That doesn’t make it hurt any less. We were both robbed of our own dreams. And it fucking sucks.”

She laughed. “That it does. It really. Fucking. Sucks.”

The bartender handed you your next round of beers and you lifted your glass to hers.

“To life fucking sucking, and to losing the loves of our lives.”

She grabbed her whiskey and tapped it against yours.

“To Bucky and Steve.”

After knocking back your drinks, Peggy looked to you once more. “So, what’s next for you? The war is over, but it sounds like the Howling Commandos aren’t quite yet finished.”

You nodded. “Yeah. Dum Dum told me that they still need to take down the secret Hydra ops that are lingering across the world. I’m….I think my time as a Commando is over. I need to try to move on. I love the guys but,” you stole a glance over at them before looking back to Peggy, “There are too many memories. It hurts too much.”

“That’s fair. And besides, it’s not like you’re no longer a Howling Commando. You’ll hold that title for life if I have anything to say about it.”

You smiled. “Dum Dum said the same thing.”

Peggy paused, giving you a look that made you slightly nervous before she reached for her purse. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to give you for a while now. I just didn’t know when the right time might be.” She pulled out an envelope. “Seeing that we might be parting ways soon, I guess this is as good a time as any.” She handed it to you and you gasped.

Your name was written on the envelope.

In Bucky’s handwriting.

Your fingers traced over the ink in awe, unable to process this gift.

“We found it with Steve’s belongings. I guess he had been holding onto it for you.”

“Do you know what it says?”

She shook her head. “No idea. Steve never mentioned it. The envelope it still sealed. It’s for your eyes only, Y/n.”

You held the envelope to your chest, then looked to Peggy before pulling her in for a hug.

“Thank you.”

“I hope it brings you some sense of peace.”

“Me, too.”

+++++++++++

You waited to read the letter until you got back to your room that evening.

There was a big debate going on in your mind whether you actually wanted to read it now or wait. It contained the last words to you from Bucky, and you weren’t sure you were entirely ready for that chapter to be closed.

But you also knew that you would never be ready.

And you missed him more than words could ever describe.

You would never have closure from losing him. At least he could still do the thing he did best. Provide you comfort even when it seemed unattainable. Even when he was no longer here.

You pulled the envelope out of your pocket, stroking your fingers over your name in the handwriting of your beloved once more. You pulled it to your face, inhaling the paper as if hoping it might smell like him.

It might have been your mind willing it into existence, but you could hear a familiar laugh echoing in your head at the ridiculous gesture.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes at the laugh, and instead placed a kiss to the envelope before finally opening it.

Hello Sweetheart,

Part of me hopes that you’ll never have to read this letter. Stevie is the only other one who will know about it and it’s only supposed to go to you if something happens. If I don’t make it.

Goddamn, I really hope I make it. That’s such a scary feeling, to want to live so desperately. When I first came out here, I was so ready to die for my country. It was a sacrifice I was so willing to make. It’s hard to imagine life after a war like this. But then you entered my world, and I started dreaming about what could be. I pictured myself as your husband, the father to our children, growing old with you and harassing our kids and our kids’ kids. Fuck, I even starting naming some of them late at night while I held you in my arms. I was so happy, so excited to start that life with you. I am so happy and excited to start that life with you. But this letter means that unfortunately that life won’t happen, doll. And it breaks my heart to think about leaving you.

But at the end of the day, this is a war we’re in now, and the chances of me dyin’ are very real and could happen at any moment. There have been many times where we have narrowly escaped it. Hell, I genuinely thought I wasn’t gonna make it out of that Hydra prison. And that’s why I gotta write all this down and just tell you how much you fucking mean to me, baby.

I swear I don’t know what I did to get so lucky to even know you. The moment I first laid eyes on you I felt lighter, like you were a star shining in the cold dark night that had been surrounding us all (or whatever the hell Jacques said. A beacon or some romantic shit). I’ve never met someone as strong, capable, kind, smart, loving, and beautiful as you. I know you don’t always feel that way, and I’m so sorry I won’t be around to remind you every second of every day. Because you are. You are amazing, Y/n. If there’s one thing I could ever ask of you, it’s to hold onto that truth. Anyone who gets the chance to know you is the luckiest fucking person in the world. And if any assholes treat you differently, I’ll haunt their ass until they’re cryin’ home to their mommies.

If this war does end someday, and you make it back home, I want you to find my mom and my sister. I don’t know if any letters have reached them, but I’ve told them all about you. All about us. About the life I dreamt we would have when we got home. I’m sure they would love to meet you. You’re part of their family now. My family. Forever.

Stevie will of course take care of you, too (not that you’ll ever need it probably but hey I always gotta look out for my best girl).

Thank you for loving me. You made me the man I am today and I will always be grateful for that. I don’t know what I did to deserve it, but I thank God everyday that you let me be your man. It is the highest honor I could ever receive.

I love you so, so, so much, Y/n. God I love you. In fact, I’m gonna end this letter here and give you a kiss that makes you all weak in the knees and have this adorable dumbstruck look on your face. It’s my favorite thing to do.

Yours, forever and always. In this life and the next.

Buck

+++++++++

Epilogue </3

Hiiiiiiiiiiiii how are we doing? Good? No? Please message me if you need to talk. This was a heavy one. We're reaching the end of the story next week. Love y'all and so thankful that you've followed me on this journey.

And fun fact (if anything can be called "fun" in this chapter): the letter was the FIRST thing I wrote. And since writing it (on fucking August 12 WOWZA) I've barely made any changes to it. I'm so happy (and very sad) it made it all the way to this point.

Tags:@blackwidownat2814 @enchantedamusedslightlyconfused @theokatz @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @carrotfantasimp @otbshan @toothhurtyam @itsdawnashlie @lostinspace33 @w0nderw0man91 @galaxy-dust @justsomeficsilike @magicalsimp @bunnymother93 @sometimesicanwright @multidreamerlovers @ceo-of-daichi @eclipses-and-moondust @thecrandle

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #107 regiment #plus size!reader #james bucky barnes #sergeant james barnes #sergeant's heart #marvel #mcu #bucky fic #bucky barnes x plus size!reader #fanfic #bucky #plus size #plus size character

[4rtheyenews]

भारतीय सेना की मैकेनाइज्ड इन्फेंट्री रेजिमेंट में 107 पदों के लिए निकली भर्ती, कैसे करें अप्लाई जानिए

भारतीय सेना की मैकेनाइज्ड इन्फेंट्री रेजिमेंट में 107 पदों के लिए निकली भर्ती, कैसे करें अप्लाई जानिए #NationalVotersDay #NationWithLavanya #NationalTourismDay #பிரியாணிஅண்டா_பத்திரம் #tuesdaymotivations

दिल्ली। भारतीय सेना में शामिल होकर देश सेवा का सपना देख रहे उम्मीदवारों के लिए खुशखबरी है। इंडियन आर्मी ने आर्टिलरी भर्ती 2022 का नोटिफिकेशन जारी किया है। इच्छुक और योग्य उम्मीदवार इंडियन आर्मी की आधिकारिक वेबसाइट indianarmy.nic.in के माध्यम से आवेदन कर सकते हैं। ऑनलाइन आवेदन 22 जनवरी 2022 या इससे पहले तक जमा स्वीकार किए जाएंगे। इस भर्ती अभियान के माध्यम से लोअर डिवीजन क्लर्क (LDC), मॉडल वर्कर,…

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#107 Posts #Indian Army&039;s #know how to apply #Mechanized Infantry #Regiment Recruitment for

[northernmariette]

Happy Birthday, Marshal Gouvion Saint-Cyr!

The following portrait is from Marcelin Marbot’s Memoirs. This was drawn just before the battle of Polotsk which was to earn Gouvion his marshal’s baton.

At the time, Gouvion had been put under Oudinot’s orders, which displeased both men. Gouvion was so independent that he could hardly tolerate being under Napoleon’s orders, let alone Oudinot’s; Oudinot was leery of being outshined by the more capable Gouvion.

They both fretted for nothing because very soon Oudinot was (fill in the blank)___________.  Yes, the right answer is “injured”. So Gouvion took command of Oudinot’s troops as well as his own. 

Marbot’s original French text can be found here:

https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/bpt6k6507190b/f124.item , pp. 107-109.

Saint-Cyr was one of the ablest military men in Europe! A contemporary and emulator of Moreau, Hoche, Kléber and Desaix, he had commanded with success one of the wings of the Army of the Rhine, at a time when Oudinot was barely a colonel or brigadier-general. I have never known anybody who directed his troops on a battlefield better than Saint-Cyr did.

The son of a small landowner from Toul, he had studied to become a civil engineer; but when he grew disenchanted with this occupation, he became an actor in Paris, and it was he who created the famous role of Robert, chief of brigands, at the Théâtre de la Cité, and Paris is where he was living when the Revolution of 1789 began. Saint-Cyr joined a battalion of volunteers, displayed great talent and courage, and very quickly rose to the rank of major general, distinguishing himself by many accomplishments. He was tall in stature, but bore the appearance of a professor rather than a military man, which may be attributed to a habit he had acquired from the generals of the Rhine army, of wearing neither uniform nor epaulettes, but a simple unadorned blue frock coat.

It was impossible to imagine a calmer man! Perils of the gravest sort, vexations, successes, defeats, nothing could agitate him. He was as cold as ice in all circumstances! It is easy to conceive what advantages such a disposition, combined with a penchant for study and reflection, conferred on this general officer. But Saint-Cyr also had severe flaws: jealous of his comrades, he frequently kept his troops at a standstill while other divisions were pounded nearby; Saint-Cyr then would march, and, taking advantage of the enemy's exhaustion, he would defeat it and thereby appear to have achieved victory single-handedly. Moreover, although General Saint-Cyr was one of the army leaders most skilled in commanding his troops on the battlefield, he was unquestionably the one who was the least concerned about their well-being. He never would inquire whether the soldiers had sufficient food, clothing, or shoes, and whether their weapons were in good repair. He never reviewed the troops, nor did he visit any of the hospitals, or even ask if there were any! In his estimation, his colonels had to see to all this. In a word, he wanted regiments to be brought to the battlefield ready to fight, without his having to be concerned about how to keep them in good order. This approach had been very prejudicial to Saint-Cyr, and wherever he had served, the troops, while acknowledging his military talents, had disliked him. All his comrades dreaded serving with him, and the various governments that had succeeded each other in France had made use of his services only out of necessity. The Emperor himself did the same, and he had such an aversion for Saint-Cyr that, when he appointed his marshals, he excluded him from the list of promotions, even though this general had greater accomplishments and abilities than most of those to whom Napoléon had given their baton.

#laurent gouvion saint-cyr #napoleon's marshals #napoleonic history #marshals' save-the-date calendar

[sartorialadventure]

On servant liveries

Court liveries:

“The first examples of occupational uniforms are liveries (from the French word livrer, meaning to deliver), which were uniform garments handed out to servants at European courts during the early modern period. Uniform in color, form, and decorations, liveries represented the household for which a servant was working. The coat of arms or initials of his master appeared on the liveries' buttons, trimmings, or badges. Already during earlier periods, princes, such as the Burgundian dukes, had their court members and servants dress in a single color at festive events in order to present a unified court. The livery proper began to spread during the seventeenth century, when the social status of a prince depended more and more on the splendid appearance of his court and his servants. These early liveries corresponded closely to military uniforms, which developed at the same time and which in the beginning were also called livery (in France, livrée; in Germany, liberey or montur). The colors of the military uniforms were usually identical to the liveries belonging to the household of the regiment's chief who, prior to the establishment of national armies, often owned the regiment.

^16th century liveried servants (Tudor England)

“Just like military uniforms during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, most servant liveries were cut according to contemporary fashion. Their striking colors, heightened by lining and trimmings in contrasting hues corresponded to the colors of the noble household to which the servants belonged but were not necessarily identical with its heraldic colors.

^Royal footman from the reign of Henry III of France (1574-1589)

“Like military uniforms, the liveries also functioned as signs of rank and distinction. Most important, the servant's livery presented the social rank, ambitions, and financial means of the master. For this reason the American economic theorist Thorstein Veblen regarded servant liveries as a prime example for his seminal theory of conspicuous and vicarious consumption. The livery also indicated the servant's rank within a household. For example, the dress of pages, who themselves were members of noble families, were more richly decorated and made of more costly materials than the liveries of other servants. The servant's nearness to the master also determined the preciousness of his outfit. Since footmen accompanied their master very closely during travels, their dress had to be made of particularly fine materials, even though the footmen's small salary reflected a low position at court (Mikosch, p. 295). The livery always signaled the rank of the occasion: the more official the occasion, the richer the livery had to be; therefore, most courts provided simple liveries for everyday use and costly ones for festive events.

^18th century liveried footmen, wealthy American household (Colonial Williamsburg)

“During the second half of the nineteenth century, when class distinctions became increasingly complex and nobility lost more and more of its privileges, servant clothes had to make up for the loss of status. Some late courts, like the one of the prince of Thurn and Taxis, put on a particularly rich display of servants fitted out with numerous liveries. The servants of Thurn and Taxis had to change clothes several times during the course of the day, even as late as the 1980s (Kliegel, p. 107). In order to project the image of a long aristocratic tradition, the design of the servant liveries tended to be antiquated. The tightly fitted justeaucorps, fashionable during the eighteenth century and decorated with rich gold braids, continued to be employed for formal occasions and tailcoats for less formal events or everyday use.” (source)

Victorian era liveries:

The term livery means any distinctive clothing adorned by the people, in a non-military context. Most often it would indicate that the wearer of a livery was a servant, dependent, follower or friend of the owner of the livery.

In the 19th century, these clothing were generally given to its servants and household members only by people who could afford such grandeur. Servants of such a household or an estate are known as liveried servants.

^Victorian era liveried servants of a large household

In the Victorian era, it was not just the aristocracy who employed servants since new wealth had trickled into the cities and led to a burgeoning middle class. Employing a servant was a sign of respectability in the eye of the society.

During the Victorian era, running footman was a high paid post a servant could achieve in the labor class.  Footmen were mostly hired according to his physical attributes,  a tall and strong person was preferable to be a footman than a short and a lean person.

They were traditionally given a clothing of a waistcoat, a fustian jacket, silver stockings and fur capes twice per year. They were meant to be the attendants who ran beside or behind the carriages of aristocrats.

^Liveried footmen, Victorian era

Being a part of the household servant, their job extension also included filling glass, placed and removed dishes, opening or closing doors, carrying heavy items or moving furniture for the housemaid to clean.

Though a footman might find full-time employment, his job was not as essential as a butler, cook, or maid in a large household. However, the work of a footman was not less valued. If the footman left a family within six months of receiving a new livery, he was expected to leave the livery behind when he departed.

Liveried Servants: Chauffeur

In the 19th century, only the wealthiest atrocities were able to hire chauffeurs for themselves. Chauffeurs were actually the private drivers of the vehicles. Not only a driver but a skilled mechanic as well who could deal with breakdowns and tire punctures en route which was quite common in that era.

They were a great sense of respectability towards them in the eye of the society. Chauffeurs were employed for any transportation which was the luxury vehicle in that particular year since the technology was moving at a very high speed from the mid-nineteenth century.

^Victorian era liveried chauffeur

For centuries, the horse and carriage was the first luxury vehicle which was usually decorated with an intricate design to express the symbol of high status. In the early days of automobiles, the demand for chauffeurs was at its peak as people preferred to have someone to drive it for them.

Early automobiles required quite a bit of work to get started, they had a device which required preheating an engine before it started. The chauffeur’s job would have involved priming the hot tubes at the beginning of a journey.

Liveried Servant: Waiter

There was a group of organized men which was more of a body, called waiters. Their main purpose of employment was to wait. Waiters were found to have frequent attendance at public breakfasts, dinners, balls, and routs.

^Victorian era waiters serving at an event

They usually had an engagement diary which listed the days of his appointments in which his presence was necessary. In the height of the seasons,  he could reject any upcoming event if he was already booked in prior. It was necessary to give them a notice beforehand to have them give the required service. They were generally dressed in tuxedos on a public event to give them a formal look overall. (source)

#fashion #fashion history #servant liveries #working class #working class fashion #men's fashion #uniforms

[amarriageoftrueminds]

I always feel weird when fics have peggy receiving/inheriting Steve's belongings after he crashes the plane. idk anything about the military really, but do they send your stuff home/to the ppl listed as your next of kin? sometimes she even ends up with his sketchbooks and stuff from his house too which, what? but anyway wouldn't, logically, steve have listed Bucky's parents or sisters as the ppl to contact/send his stuff to if something happens to him? why would peggy get to keep his stuff (or have access to his home) when they barely knew anyone and she had no rights to it? idk if I make sense or if i just dislike peggy/steggy so much i'm reaching? i guess if you headcanon steve not putting anyone as next of kin on his forms then his stuff is up for grabs? but i just can't buy that he wouldn't put Bucky's family (or bucky himself if he were allowed to do that idk) on there :/

Anon, it's not reaching at all. You're completely right. 

If Steve had listed his next of kin (i.e. before he ever met Peggy!), it wouldn't have been her, and if he had altered it later it, still wouldn't have been her -- because they weren't even dating and barely knew each other.

(She didn't know mentioning the 107, the NY regiment Bucky and Steve's father were in, would upset Steve; suggesting she didn’t know his past, had forgotten where Steve is from, and didn't know he had a friend there. And a year later, she still didn't know whether he believed in or respected said friend, and wasn't on first name terms with him. Ergo: didn’t know him.)

Peggy would have absolutely no legal right to Steve’s belongings, and if anything I think Bucky would be named as his successor, because as Steve himself said ‘even when I had nothing I had Bucky.’ 

After which it would to go to Bucky's next of kin - i.e. his parents and siblings (CATWS lists three, FATWS mentions one sister... and then does nothing with that, because it’s shittily written.)

(I actually started and had to stop reading a fic yesterday because it opened with Peggy taking Steve's trunk as if she had a right to it, and then interfering with what got passed on! Had me grinding my teeth!)

Annoyingly, the dog tags Steve wore in the movie were not printed with a next-of-kin address (suggesting that Steve didn't name Bucky because he was already away at war.)

Either way, Peggy is definitely not listed as his NOK, and has no right.

But I cannot deny that it is totally in-character for her.

It would be entirely in keeping with her entitled possessiveness of Steve, and the way she repeatedly presumes to speak for him in his absence.

(This also bolsters the myth of their relationship in other people's eyes, which is useful to her career -- as her own show confirms. No wonder she kept that photo of him facing the door in her office at Camp Lehigh: Birthplace of Captain America. It's a 'Hang in there' Kitten poster, like Pepper having a poster of Tony up in her office at Stark Industries. Just to remind everyone how special she is to the boss.) 

It's also in keeping with Peggy's abuses of power.

If she abused her position in the SSR to steal a photo Steve didn't give her, why not to steal a bunch of possessions he also didn't give her? Hardly a stretch, is it?

#antipeggy #toAyourQ #hey nonny #dat's me #anti st*ggy #oof straight out of the gate with the salt this morning #p*ggy meta