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When Henry Met Howlies

Summary:

Gabe lets out a low whistle that could be mistaken, if you're particularly bad at ornithology, for a bird call, and Bucky and Jacques come pelting into camp. "Oh, thank god," is the first thing Bucky says when they see him, and Jacques nods fervently.

"And why did you two came running back in here like our house was on fire?" demands Dum Dum, looking concerned.

" 'Cause we thought the house was on fire," says Bucky grimly. "That prisoner they're going to be transporting? The word in the village is, they've captured Captain America."

Spoiler alert: They haven't.

Notes:

NSFW only in the third (probably last, assuming that the post-credits scene - which I only thought of as I was going to publish this - is reasonable in length) chapter. Mostly does not require the rest of the series to make sense. This is the "After" story in the series title, separated off because the tone was very different from B&VB, and also because I couldn't resist the When Harry Met Sally reference.

This story made me genuinely happy to write; I hope it brings you all some joy, as well. It is not intended to be taken seriously. (That's why I called the first chapter "The Massacre", you see? *self-conscious crickets*)

Chapter 1: The Massacre

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Dugan lets out a low whistle, looking around at the carnage.

Steve and his team have been sent to destroy a HYDRA facility located two days east of a sleepy town not far from Bremen in Northern Germany, and to bring back any intel they could find there.  At least half of their job has already been done for them. 

Monty takes a couple of steps in from the corridor, pauses, and then takes a few more.  Jacques says something in French, and even though all of their French is getting pretty good at this point, they still habitually look to Gabe for answers.  "He says, 'I thought the loading dock was bad, but this is like something out of a... nightmare.'"  

Bucky just nods, staring at the blood.  

Which is everywhere; that's the first problem.  It's clear that, not only did the people here (scientists, most likely, to judge by the garb and physical appearance) die violently, they died quickly, as well, throats ripped out while they were standing - the blood spray went all the way to the ceiling - most without time to grab weapons, and with the bodies clumped together like that, Steve would bet that they hadn't even had time to scatter, or run.  Something entered the room by force - the door swung drunkenly off its hinges killed everyone in it in seconds, and left with only a few drops of blood marking its trail - as if it had been moving too fast to get sprayed.  

"The door," Jim says, weapon up and ready.  

That's the second problem.  The door, which sways like a lascivious hooker when their bodies pass it, has been torn out of the wall.  Steve looks again, and, no, the hinges aren't torqued, they are torn out of the wall.  Which is concrete.  Steve adds up the amount of strength required to pull this off, and doesn't much like the answer.

"Gabe," he says, swallowing down his first and second reactions, focusing back on the mission.  "They should have some sort of lab record, a summary of their experiments so far?"

"I'll find it," the man promises.  

"Good man."  

"I see a lot of chemicals," Monty mentions.  "Somewhere, there should be a hood."

"A what?" Steve asks, but Jacques has found it by then, flipping the switch to send air up through the system.  

Gabe nods at them gratefully.  "Well, that should help with the smell, some.  I don't suppose any of these chemical things smell good?" 

Monty pokes at the bottles stored next to the hood, then grabs a dish and pours in a liquid Steve can't see.  The scent of tropical fruit fills the room.

"Corpses mixed with bananas," Jim notes sarcastically.  "Perfect."

Gabe gives Monty a dubious look.  "That isn't hazardous to breathe, is it?" he asks.

"Not even hazardous to eat, at least in small amounts," Monty reassures him.  "Like many esters, it's naturally occurring."

"Useful to know," Steve tells him.  "Thanks."  

They move on.  

The corridor is largely clear; like the receiving dock, there must've been only one or two guards when the disaster had struck.  Steve leaves Monty and Jacques in different offices along the way, Bucky, Dum Dum, and Jim sticking close by his six as he takes stairs, shield raised.  

The next floor is just like this one, though; doors ripped off of hinges, bodies sprawled across desks or, horribly, still sitting in chairs.  By the end of the second floor, Dum Dum and Jim are rifling through the contents of two more offices.  Steve and Bucky follow the footsteps upstairs:  the unknown assailant has gotten messy enough to reveal that he has a somewhat small boot for a man, mostly moving on the front of his feet.  Running.

The third floor is largely empty.  No offices, there, just dorm rooms.  The last of them contains a single bed, not a double or more, and there's a side-table and wardrobe.  There's also one last body, throat torn out so violently that Steve finds a chunk of flesh rotting under the clothes-press.  Blood sprayed out, all over the comforter with its quilted compass design.  But, Steve thinks, heart sinking, there's something wrong with the scene.  

They toss the room because it looks like the equivalent of officer's quarters, finding a couple packs of cigs and a nice bottle of schnapps, but nothing significant.  "Damn it," Bucky says, running a hand through the back of his hair.  "Whoever beat us here, he sure did a number on the place."  

"They didn't toss this room," Steve observes, moving to the window.  The sun has the high, cold look of winter, and illuminates a garden.  Whatever this place is now (HYDRA research facility, from the look of it), once upon a time, it was a very nice country manor house.  There is an arching drive leading up to a flagstone patio in front of the window, where some of the stones are dented and shattered, and Steve gets a mental image of a carriage pulling up there, fancy ladies like Mrs. Dashwood spilling out. 

"Wha - Oh.  No, they didn't," Bucky agrees, "So either they weren't looking for anything, or they knew it wasn't here."

"I don't think they were looking.  Those offices downstairs were pretty tidy until we got there."

"You have an interesting definition of tidy," Buck points out, indicating the gore.  

"That's another thing; there's not enough blood."  Steve turns back into the room, stopping to poke at the dead man's hand with his shoe, noting the presence of HYDRA-insignia ring on the man's hand.  The head of the little octopus has two rubies where the eyes are, and definitely rules out robbery as a motive for their vigilante.  He stops and pulls the ring off, to take to Carter.  As evidence, damn it, not - It's a ring, it's just - 

Steve sighs.  That conversation hadn't even gone well in his mind.

"I must have misheard you," Bucky says, in a flat voice because he knows he didn't.  "I could have sworn you said there wasn't enough blood." 

"Look at the throat, Buck," Steve argues.  "We just saw more than a dozen rooms with people murdered the same way, only less savagely; but compare the size of this blood spray to those."

Bucky is silent as they retrace their steps down the hallway, passing the opposite direction as the bloody boot prints on the floor.  "Well," he finally says as the come to collect Jim and Dum Dum.  "That's just what this needed."

"Yeah, no kidding.  What kind of murderer takes blood home as a trophy?  I mean, I've heard of scalping..."

"You fellas are entirely too grisly," Dum Dum snorts.  "Come on, let's get out of here and let Jacques blow it up.  We'll all feel better."

Gabe and Monty are arguing when they get to the next level, Gabe stubborn in his straightforward way, Monty snide in his.  "What's up?" Bucky asks, because it's his job to wade in when there's disagreement in the troop.  

"This has to have been done by a machine of some sort," Monty insists, gesturing at the damage in the lab.  "Look at that!  No man could do that, not without leaving a blood trail."

"You didn't see those notebooks," Gabe retorts, then faces the Captain.  "They were working on the Serum here, sir.  They were trying to recreate the event that made you.  They don't mention any human testing, but if they'd tried it on an animal first, and that beast got loose?"

Steve looks around the lab again, thinking of the raggedy edges of the man's throat upstairs, torn out by - it certainly looked like - teeth.

"Well, did they mention trying it on animal subjects in those notebooks?" Bucky's asking.  

Gabe's silence goes from angry to embarrassed, and now they're all waiting for his answer.  

Gabe looks at his feet.  "A couple rabbits," he admits.  

Steve gets the mental image first, and giggles.  He's always giggled sometimes, ever since he was a kid, and it always infected those around him, but now it's especially bad because he's huge, and the sight of this enormous, muscular man giggling like a mad schoolgirl never fails to spread the laughter to those around him.   Bucky catches it next, then Monty and Jacques, and soon, they're all helpless, laughing hysterically in the ruined horror of the house.  Right as they're getting calmed down, though, Steve realizes something and busts out in a fresh round. "You sure you didn't read it wrong, right?  They didn't try it on a couple of rabbi?"

He has no idea why murderous men in skullcaps and ear curls make for a funnier mental image than murderous rabbits, but they really, really do, and the team howls -heh - again.

When the laughter finally dies down, Bucky rounds them all up, passing on the order to head out.  As they go to exit the way they came, though, Steve motions a stop.  "This way, I think.  I want to look at the front, where those gardens are."

"Hey," says Dum Dum, perking up, "Maybe they've got some vegetable gardens tucked away."  They've been provided with rations, but all of them agree with the instinct to hold off on eating those as long as possible.  They might get stuck out here and need them, later, and any way, the damn things taste like rotten shoes.

Between the mention of food and the giggle-session, they're all in a good mood as they march out the front of the house, even without Jacques blowing it up.  Steve stops them on the patio.  "<Hey, Jacques,>" he says in French, "<crouch here like you're landing after a jump.>"  He steers Jacques to where the flagstones are most broken, and they all see what he means.  "There were footsteps upstairs," Steve mentions.  "Where I guess our guy finally got messy.  The stride was too small to be my size, or even Bucky's, by kind of a lot.  <Jacques, how tall are you?>"

"<Five feet six>," comes the answer.  They all look down to where Jacques' feet fit naturally into two of the points where the cracking and breaking of the flagstones is greatest.  Jacques looks behind him, then turns around, stretching his right hand out as if to catch himself, and hits the third perfectly.  

Steve nods, then looks at Monty and Gabe.  "Not a machine," he points out, "and not a rabbit, either, more's the pity.  We definitely have a human attacker, and almost certainly one with enhanced abilities."  A considering pause.  "I suppose it could still be a rabbi," he adds, and gets a chuckle out of them.  He looks up, finding a faint, bloody hand-print on the outside of the second story window where the assailant had left the building; apparently, he'd managed to close it after him on his way out.  "Right now," Steve says, feeling oddly guilty as he says it, "The only guy I know of who could have done this is me."

It feels oddly significant for a moment, but then Jim snorts.  "Nah," he says, "I saw those footprints same as you, you're way too tall."

"Besides," Dum Dum adds, "I know we don't talk about it much, but I think we all know that if you could do it, Sarge here could, too."

"Or, for that matter - and far more likely - Schmidt," Monty puts in.

Jacques rolls his eyes in agreement.  

"Yeah, alright," Steve says. 

"Hey," says Bucky, "Let's go see if they have carrots."

"<Leeks, too; it's been warm enough there may be a second crop.>"

"Wait, hold on, I'll check back in the facility; if there's a wine cellar, we could have stew."


There is a wine cellar.  The stew is delicious.


Basically, Steve thinks, they're all really lucky that Bucky was picking up the German so well.  

They're supposed to have checked out the house, sending their findings back with a member of the Resistance they can meet with in the village, then proceeded on to another HYDRA facility, this one a more fortified target, possibly a base, two days north instead of east.  But Steve can't be the one to go into the village and meet their contact, because he's too conspicuous to do that sort of recon.  The same goes for Gabe; Jacques does much better, but has a conspicuous French accent that puts German backs up like crazy.  So, all things considered, as in so many times in Steve's life... Thank God for Bucky.  

For some reason, Steve is feeling twitchy tonight.  He's not sure what it is, just a feeling like he's missed something, something he should've seen back at the research-house.  It's like there are eyes on him, aiming at him, except that there aren't, which he knows because he's checked.  

It's half an hour later when Gabe lets out a low whistle that could be mistaken, if you're particularly bad at ornithology, for a bird call, and Bucky and Jacques (who had gone with him as silent, emphasis on silent, backup) come pelting into camp.  

"Oh, thank god," is the first thing Bucky says when they see him, and Jacques nods fervently.  They sit down and drink some of the tea Monty's been making from herbs he found in the facility garden.  When they've got their breath back, Jacques says, "Problems."

"Yeah, no kiddin'," agrees Bucky.  "Okay.  First of all, our contact wasn't there."

"What, the guy from the Resistance?" Steve frowns.  

"That's the one.  We did the signal just like normal, but no one came up, and my choices for potentials weren't even looking at us."

The signal is to order a gin and tonic at the bar, a signature drink of the British forces; since the signal gets detected by sitting in the bar watching what people order, some of their resistance contacts have been barmen, and the rest of them have been disguised as drunks.  It's usually pretty easy to spot either one.  

"Then we started asking about how things've been in the village, and we kept getting more and more bad news."  

"<There is a massive force expected in the next three days,>" Jacques says.  "<They have> -" He looks at Bucky. "- <a high-profile prisoner to transport, and the village has been worried about potential quartering.>"

"How big a force?"

"Unknown, but pretty fucking big for the ass end of nowhere, I'm guessing."  Bucky looks very dire.

"And why did you two came running back in here like our house was on fire?" demands Dum Dum, looking concerned.

" 'Cause we thought the house was on fire," says Bucky grimly.  "That prisoner they're going to be transporting?  The word in the village is, they've captured Captain America."


"No," says Steve.

"We've got to," argues Bucky.  "I mean, obviously it's not you -"

"Obviously."

"- But whoever it is, they're pretty fuckin' convinced it is you.  That means it's someone on our side."

"We don't go rescuing each and every prisoner of war," Steve objects.  "Going off-mission could put the whole thing in jeopardy, and we're hundreds of miles behind enemy lines here.  No one's coming for us if we get captured on an unauthorized, suicidal rescue mission."

"Wouldn't be the first time no one was coming for us," mutters Jim.

"<But this is not just a prisoner of war,>" puts in Jacques.  "<They think this man is you.>"

"And, what, that means I'm obliged to him?  Because I have to tell you, little kids dress up like us on Halloween, and that doesn't mean we get candy -"

"It means he's enhanced," Monty realizes.  "No, Captain, I'm sorry, they're right.  Remember the facility two days ago?"  

They've all had trouble forgetting.

"Someone did that, and now the Nazis have captured a man who is an enemy of HYDRA, a man who must be enhanced in order for them to mistake him for you.  Surely, this false Captain is the one who effected that carnage.  We must either bring this man back to the SSR, or put him down before he does it to anyone else."

"Nah, he's not going to do it to anyone else."  Steve's voice is certain, but then he reconsiders.  "Well, not anyone who isn't a Nazi or HYDRA, I mean."

"You know that for certain, Cap?" Jim gives him the neutral look that says I think you're full of shit; prove me wrong.  It's one of Steve's favorite looks from him, to be honest.

"Have we found random massacres anywhere?" Steve asks him rhetorically.  "And if you think about it, nothing in that house was all that much worse than what we would've done if we'd gone in guns blazing.  It's a mistake to assume this guy is more brutal than we are; he may just be less well-armed."  Beside him, probably unconsciously, Bucky caresses the energy rifle that has served him so well since he stole it from HYDRA.

"All the more reason," Gabe says quietly, "for him to coordinate his attacks with the SSR."  He meets Steve's eyes.  "Sorry, Cap; we've gotta get him out."

"And what about the mission?" Steve demands, already knowing he's lost the argument.  "We're supposed to be clearing out that facility two days north of here; we can't do both."  Jacques and Bucky are starting to grin, and Steve has a bad feeling he knows why.  "Oh no."

"Well, where else could they hold him?  I mean, there's a giant squad coming here, to a Podunk village in the middle of nowhere, and the only other place that's a possibility around these parts is the one we just came from."  

"Are you sure about this?  He's definitely there?"

"Well, if he's not, we just complete the mission as planned and miss him," Jim says.  "But you've already said you don't think that's a problem."

Steve scowls, caught.

"Hey, be serious a moment, Steve."  Bucky is looking a little scared, and Steve instinctive moves closer.  "These guys apparently have a cell that's capable of holding you.  They're expecting to see you walking around loose, because they've got to be expecting 'you' to try'n escape.  And they were able to capture 'you' in the first place."  He meets Steve's eyes, and keeps his voice matter-of-fact, but the feat comes through underneath, anyway.  "You can't go."

"You've gotta be kidding me!  I ain't letting ya go in alone!" 

"He's entirely correct, Captain," Monty cuts in.  "You'll be recognized instantly.  Good for our mysterious captive, I suppose, but less good for the rest of us."

"Plus, he's gotta kinda look like you, right?  I mean, those posters of you are everywhere, they've got to have seen one.  What if we get you mixed up?"

"I'm pretty sure you could tell us apart, since I'm most of a foot taller," Steve says, and it's probably not fair of him to use that much sarcasm, but he's hot under the collar and ready to take heads, over here.  "I can't just tell my whole troop to go waltzing off without me while I have a powder!" he tells them.

And that's the root of the problem right there.  He can't let other people handle his problems for him; never has been able to, and never will.

"<Actually, you do that all the time,>" says Jacques in a clipped voice, and they all goggle at him.  "<In reverse.  Or what else would you call it, when you go ahead of us into one set of danger, leaving us to face whatever is behind?  You can never know that they don't have a reserve force.  This is nothing you've never done before.>"  

They all look to Gabe for the translation, which he gives, cringing a little at the look on Steve's face.  Steve's lips are white, pressed so hard against all the things he wants to say that there's a muscle jumping in his cheek.  

"Fine," he bites out finally.  "Do you have a plan?"

"Oh, I've got a plan alright!"  chortles Dugan.

Dum Dum has been behind him most of the argument, doing something with the packs.  When Steve turns, he sees the man smoking one of his cigars (only done during moments of emotional extreme, due to the difficulties in supply) while in his hands he has Steve's sewing kit and -

"Oh, this should be good," Jim grins.


They march north for a day together, putting Steve superior to the village, but close enough that he can head back into town the next night - Steve moves a lot faster when it's just him, without normal humans to slow him down.  Steve's still pretty conspicuous, but in Dugan's spare shirt (Steve makes a point of washing it) and with some soot from the fire mixed in with his hair, he'll be disguised enough to try again to meet their Resistance contact.  He's got all the info they took from the eastern facility, too.  

Very early the next morning, the Howlies head out, planning to get to the military installation by just after noon, and as they're leaving, Jacques presses a grenade into Steve's hand.  "For luck," he says, looking misty eyed, and moves out quickly.  Monty shakes his hand, Jim and Dum Dum salute.  Gabe nods, solemnly.  

Bucky gives him a hug.  

They go.

Notes:

Jim Morita is possibly my favorite Commando. In the movie, when he's just like, "I'm from Fresno" with all the disdain it's possible to fit on a human face... I swooned. So most of the time, when Steve's thinking how much he adores Jim's little asshole heart, that's the writer coming through. I regret nothing.