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𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙵𝙾𝚁𝚃𝚈 — 𝚂𝚝𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚐
𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘰𝘮 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘷𝘰𝘭𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘯
𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘳;
𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥
𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥...
— ᴹᵃʳᵗⁱⁿ ᴸᵘᵗʰᵉʳ ᴷⁱⁿᵍ ᴶʳ.
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TWO TORMENTING DAYS DRAGGED BY, EACH MOMENT PLUNGING DEEPER INTO A SUFFOCATING ABYSS OF ISOLATION... For the last 48 hours, y/n l/n existed in a dark, frigid cell — a prisoner of uncertainty, with no tether to reality. Every second stretched her sanity to its breaking point, her mind a battleground of terror and despair. Lost in the labyrinth of her confinement, she was a ghost haunting her own existence, infested by questions without answers. Where was she? How long would she be held captive? And what fate befell her dearest friend? The walls closed in, a sinister embrace that offered no solace, only the icy grip of fear.
Denied even the basic comfort of warmth, she shivered in the chill, her pleas for reprieve falling on deaf ears. Hunger gnawed at her insides, but the thought of consuming whatever sustenance the Nazis provided turned her stomach. She existed in a limbo of mistrust, teetering on the brink of collapse. In the shadows, her thoughts turned to him, the man she loved, the one whose disappearance led her into this nightmare. Did he even know of her plight? Was he alive, or had he met the same cruel fate that awaited her? The ache of longing burned within her, a fire fueled by hope and desperation of their seemingly impossible reunion.
The tortures inflicted by her captors knew no bounds, each hour a relentless onslaught of pain and degradation. Yet, amidst the agony, her loyalty to her homeland burned unwaveringly. Her body bore the marks of their cruelty, a canvas of bruises and bloodied wounds — truly a testament to her defiance. With every blow, and every scream torn from her lips, she remained resolute, her spirit unbroken by their barbarity... In the depths of her suffering, she found a grim solace in her silence. No matter the horror they devised, she met their inquiries with only a hollow, psychotic laugh, a defiance that echoed through the chambers of her incarceration.
Blood mingled with tears as she tasted their assaults, her resolve a shield against the onslaught. Each scar etched into her flesh was a badge of honor, a reminder of her unyielding resistance in the face of tyranny. But beneath the mask of stoicism, a fire burned within her, a primal urge to fight back against her oppressors. She bided her time, conserving her strength for the moment when she would seize her chance at freedom. Through the haze of misery and despondency, she clung to hope, a flickering flame in the darkness. Scarred and battered, she remained a beacon of rebellion, a symbol of the indomitable spirit of those who refuse to be broken.
In the oblivion of her imprisonment, she poured her heart onto paper, each word a documentation of the ordeal she survived — a love letter tinged with bitterness and longing. With every beat of her heart, she clung to the certainty of their eventual reunion, whether in the depths of hell or amidst the clouds of heaven. Though her limbs trembled with fatigue, thinking of him kept her going, motivating her to endure weight of her suffering for as long as she could, for in the crucible of her tribulation, she was like a phoenix rising from the ashes of her jeopardy, ignited by the flames of her undying love.
Her senses, dulled by days of absolute solitude, snapped to attention at the sudden cacophony outside her prison cell. For what felt like an eternity, she had been trapped in a suffocating silence broken only by her own ragged breaths and the distant shuffle of the Krauts. Now, as the clamor of activity erupted beyond her confines, her heart pounded with a mixture of dread and anticipation. Every fiber of her being strained to decipher the source of the disturbance, a flicker of hope kindling within her weary heart.
The air crackled with tension as she listened intently, the first real sign of life beyond the confines of her cell. It was a symphony of chaos, a stark contrast to the bleak stillness that had engulfed her for what felt like a lifetime. With bated breath, she waited, her pulse racing in time with the distant echoes of the outside world. For the first time in days, the walls of her prison felt less like a tomb and more like a stage upon which her fate would be decided. Her limbs ached with the desire to move, yet her body was too sore to obey. Words of protest formed on her lips, but her swollen throat suppressed them.
Before she could muster the strength to rise, a guard stormed in, yanking her up with brutal force. Dragged along by aggressive strides, she struggled to keep pace, her weakened body threatening to pass out at any moment. As the grey light of the day greeted her starved eyes, her heart surged with hope at the sight of fellow prisoners, all American faces, though none from her own group. "Bucky?" She called out, spotting the familiar raven locks amidst the crowd. "Bucky!" Her cry was met with a rough shove from behind. "Duck?" The voice pierced through the chaos, her heart skipping a beat as recognition dawned.
Egan's ears perked up at the familiar cry of his friend, his frantic search intensifying amidst the sea of captives. "Holy fuck... Ducky, where are you?!" The words rang out, filled with urgency as he scanned the faces around him, searching for her amidst the sea of prisoners. "Y/N!" Exclaimed the Major, relief washing over him at the sight of her, once his cold blue orbs finally met with hers. But their reunion was short-lived as the guards barked orders, threatening violence if they dared to defy them. With no strength left to resist, they continued forward, their eyes never leaving each other even as they were herded outside.
Forcibly shoved into the waiting train, they exchanged one prison for another, the destination a mystery shrouded in dread. Amidst the chaos of their surroundings, their only anchor was the fleeting comfort of each other's presence. "Welp, you look like shit. What happened?" Bucky's concern cut through the air once they were settled. "Accidentally blew off one of the interrogator's family back in Bremen... Let's just say he didn't appreciate the achievement." She rolled her eyes jokingly. Throbbing and aching, her body betrayed her with each faltering second. But fortunately, the raven drew her close, offering his support as her legs gave out.
Together, they glanced around the cramped confines of the carriage, searching for a seat in the midst of this vast expanse of devastated souls bound for an ill fate. "Now what happened to you?" She then asked, noticing a scar on his cheek that wasn't there before. "Ah, just a little love tap from an average Hitler devotee." He replied with a shrug, trying to play it off. "Apparently, my charm doesn't translate well in every language." He sighed, earning a chuckle from the deranged Major, who couldn't help but feel a pang of longing for his company, realizing just how much she missed him in the span of those two harrowing days without her loved ones by her side.
In a silent understanding, the y/h/c pulled him into a tight embrace, clinging to each other as if their very lives depended on it. No words were exchanged, no emotions verbalized, but in that hug, they found peace in each other's presence, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that held them together. Tears welled in their eyes, but they refused to let them fall, unwilling to show any hint of vulnerability in the face of their grim reality. As the train continued to fill with passengers, another train passed by, a haunting reminder of the atrocities unfolding around them.
The cries of women and children, their desperate pleas for help echoed through the air, piercing through the somber silence like daggers. The sound sent shivers down their spines, their hearts heavy with the burden of witnessing such unimaginable crimes. The realization hit y/n like a freight train, slamming into her with the force of a revelation. As she watched the train filled with innocent souls pass by, the chilling thought pierced her to the core: if circumstances had been different, if Rosie had been born on a different continent, it could have easily been him. The mere notion stung her heart, a cold dread settling in the pit of her stomach.
In that moment, she understood just how fortunate the brunette was, escaping the horrors that so many others faced. And with that understanding came a newfound appreciation for her people, for the sheer luck of having them all in her life, safe and sound. The severity of the moment washed over her like a tidal wave, leaving her breathless with gratitude and fright in equal measure. In the midst of such ambiguity, she clung to the light that was Bucky, realizing just how precious their camaraderie truly was. Sensing her uneasiness, the raven did what he could to comfort her, wishing that it'd be Buck soon, the man she really deserved.
"We're gonna make it, Duck... All three of us, I promise."
***
With each passing hour, Major l/n's condition deteriorated further. Five days of starvation had left her malnourished, dehydrated, and riddled with injuries. Her strength had long abandoned her, and keeping her conscious became a relentless battle for John Egan. But amidst the dire circumstances, a glimmer of hope emerged when one of the soldiers managed to smuggle in some whiskey while the guards weren't looking. Though a far cry from ideal, it provided a desperate form of hydration, easing their immediate plight. News spread among the soldiers that they were being taken to a Stalag, a prisoner-of-war camp.
Unlike their initial fears, the Nazis, perhaps mindful of potential repercussions, were providing basic human essentials like food and water. It was a small mercy in the midst of their misfortune, offering a sliver of relief in the face of overwhelming adversity. As dusk descended upon the horizon, the Americans arrived at Stalag Luft III in Sagan, Germany. With jaded bodies and troubled hearts, they stepped onto the soil of the camp, their spirits tempered by the hostile reality of their imprisonment. Yet, amidst the compunction that lay ahead, they remained united in their resilience, determined to persevere against the odds.
Disembarking from their mode of transport, the girl summoned every ounce of strength to stand, even though she leaned heavily on Bucky for support, his arm wrapped firmly around her waist. Together, they hobbled forward, adamant on facing whatever awaited them on the unforgiving earth below. As their feet touched the deserted stretch of land, the shrill wail of alarms shattered the silence, setting the camp ablaze with activity. With a frantic cry, the guards flung open the gates, unleashing a flood of previous prisoners who rushed to the barbed wire fences, straining for a glimpse of the newcomers.
Each face in the crowd held a mix of curiosity and desperation, searching for a flicker of familiarity betwixt the ocean of outlanders. "Smells like shit." y/n complained, her voice strained with exhaustion as she struggled to keep her eyelids from drooping. "Yeah, looks like it too..." Agreed the raven, casting a horrified glance around at the grim surroundings. The sight of so many of their comrades held hostage by the nasty Nazis took him aback, a stark reminder of the harsh future they were yet to face. Amongst the uproar their advent had triggered — the prisoners desperately calling out for their friends, the y/h/c's ears perked up at the sound of her name being uttered.
Through the discord, her name echoed like a beacon of recognition, cutting through the mayhem with a surge of energy that electrified the air. "Hey, look! It's the Bremen Bomber!" Someone announced, admiration laced in their tone. "Damn straight! She took those Nazi bastards down!" Another exclaimed, awe evident in their voice. Remarks of respect and admiration rippled through the crowd as they recognized her formidable reputation.
"Hot damn, they really let a lady loose in the military..." Scoffed one, followed by rude remarks about her looks. "The least they could do was make sure she's hot." Grumbled a ginger. "So uh, did they send her in here for mass reproduction or what?" Questioned someone snidely. But any disrespectful comments were swiftly shut down by a familiar voice. "That's Buck's lady you're talking about, gentlemen... He may be a calm guy, but you mess with her, and he won't think twice before unleashing hell at your vulgar asses without breaking a sweat. And don't even get me started on what she might do to you if she hears it instead." Came the stern warning.
"Egan and l/n in the flesh! The dynamic duo!" Demarco cried out, the excitement palpable in his voice. "Bucky! Ducky! Over here!" Reverberated the enthusiastic cheers of their comrades throughout the entire territory — a chorus of celebration that filled the air. Spotting familiar faces amidst the crowd, Bucky's grin widened with relief and euphoria. "Crank, Murph! GLEN-" He greeted each one with heartfelt joy, embracing the moment of reunion. "Duck made it! Ducky made it- She made it you guys! Our captain made it!" Ham's exuberant glee cut through the din, mirroring the shared sentiment of triumph and alleviation.
"Gale..." The y/h/c whispered, feeling his presence like a whisper on the wind, her heart soaring with hope. "What was that?" Bucky leaned in, catching her words in the midst of her coughing fit. "Gale." she repeated, her voice stronger now, a passion lighting up her dead, y/e/c eyes. Instantly, Bucky sprang into action, asking around for any sign of Gale. "Hey, any of you know if Buck made it?" He asked, still marching. "What?" Crank asked, following him from the other side, but the noise making it harder for him to hear very clearly. "I said if any of you knew if Buck made--" But before he could even finish his question, the answer found him.
"John Egan, your 2 o'clock!"
(2.4k words)
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