Chapter Text
The Sacrifices We Make
(A modern Bucky & Steve AU)
Chapter 1 - A New Mission
Afghanistan, September 2017
“Hey man, you counting the days til you go home?” Clint Barton takes a sip of his beer and leans back in his chair, keeping an eye on his surroundings through his sunglasses without appearing conspicuous. There’s constant hustle and bustle around them, and the alleys are populated by all manner of people.
The bumpy, unpaved road outside the building often leads to repeated traffic congestion due to the constant flow of pedestrians who simply make their way through the street without paying attention to the countless drivers. They can hear the constant noise of car horns and the unending chatter of the public. His gaze wanders back to his Clint. He’s meeting his former teammate in a street café to find out about the latest developments.
“It's months away at the moment,” replies Sergeant James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes with a shrug. Even though he's playing it cool, he’s secretly looking forward to the official end of his foreign deployment. At home in Brooklyn, his wife Lily and their two children are eagerly awaiting his return home. Like his buddy, his attention is focused on what's happening around them. Although they’re in a relatively safe sector, caution is always advised, because American soldiers are often targets of fanatical Taliban supporters.
"And?"
“Actually, I've got three more.”
"Really?" The ex-soldier raises his eyebrows in surprise. “I thought it was only until the middle of next month?”
“Nope,” Bucky replies, popping the “p” particularly clearly. He also takes a sip from his bottle of beer, the content of which is now lukewarm, and grimaces. In his mind, he adds something else to his list of things he’s looking forward to when he gets home: a cold American beer and a BBQ with everything a well-stocked supermarket will sell. “The only one who will be home by the middle of next month is you.”
Clint grins widely. “Well, what can I say? The benefits of being a military advisor, my friend, cannot be underestimated.” Since leaving active service, Clint has worked in the background instead of taking part in combat missions. Subsequently, he’s able to handle many matters from a secure airbase without having to go to the front lines. Which, of course, is a relief to his wife, Laura, and their three children. He had honestly struggled with his fate for a long time, and it’s taken a lot of effort for him to wear the hearing aids he needs now. In the end, reason prevailed. The hearing loss due to an injury from an exploding bomb made them necessary. But in retrospect, the decision was the right one. After all, his buddies trusted him with their lives, and with his physical limitations, he’s no longer able to guarantee their safety or his own in the field.
“You’ve become a damn pencil pusher,” Bucky snickers calmly, lighting a cigarette. After taking two deep drags, he looks thoughtfully at his buddy as he blows out the smoke with relish. A bead of sweat slowly runs down his temple, which he wipes with the back of his hand. This damn heat. Another thing he definitely isn't going to miss when he goes back home.
“What?” Clint laughs, not missing the sly look Bucky gives him.
"Nothing." He shrugs his shoulders.
Clint doesn’t quite buy it but leaves it at that for now. “Hey, I heard the unit has a new mascot?”
Bucky grins crookedly, cigarette in the corner of his mouth. "Right." He fishes his cell phone out of the breast pocket of his beige-brown uniform, brings up the picture gallery and holds it out to Clint.
The former sharpshooter leans forward a little, pushes up his dark sunglasses, and narrows his eyes because the sunlight reflects on the scratched display. "What is that supposed to be?"
“What does it look like?”
“Is that a goat?” He looks at Bucky in disbelief. “You’ve got a damn goat as a mascot?” After studying the picture a little more closely, he adds, “At least she seems to be doing well. She’s pretty fat.”
“She's not fat, just pregnant. She’s due any moment.”
“You have a pregnant goat as a mascot.” This time it’s a statement and not a question. Shaking his head, he leans back again. “Then there will soon be baby goats here? Oh boy."
Laughing, Bucky shrugs his shoulders and puts the phone back in his pocket. “Hey, you take what you can get. Times are tough, man. And I can’t help it if someone, whose name I won't mention, is taking our actual mascot with them.”
"For your information," Clint begins to reply, "that someone simply had Lucky's well-being in mind. I couldn't leave him with you idiots. You totally spoiled him.” He still remembers the day his unit found the frightened and injured Golden Retriever during a rescue operation. The male was a trained explosives detection dog in the service of the US Army. He would never forget the events of that day. Lucky's unit had been ambushed and all the men had been killed. Lucky himself had lost an eye in the attack, and if it hadn't been for Clint, the dog probably wouldn't be alive today.
For weeks after the end of his shift he had tried to get Lucky back on his feet. The friendly dog, with an inexplicable love of pizza, quickly became the unit's beloved mascot. After he left, Clint had taken him home to the farm, where Lucky was now enjoying his well-deserved retirement and more pizza. As Bucky had done before, he now shows a picture of Lucky to him.
The sergeant nods approvingly as he studies the photo. “I miss that crazy guy.”
Clint says: “You'll have enough time soon, you can get a dog, too. Just take the goat with you. Didn't you grow up on a farm? The children will definitely like it. You just have to convince your wife of it. Speaking of which, how's Lily?"
A smile crosses Bucky's face. He rubs his bearded cheek dreamily as he thinks back to the last video conversation. “Lily’s fine. She’s been making plans to renovate the kitchen for weeks. And no, I’m from Brooklyn. My grandfather had a farm in Indiana. We always went there on vacation.”
“And the kids? Can’t wait until Daddy gets home, right?” He knows what he’s talking about and can understand both sides.
“You bet your damn pencil-pushing ass, Barton,” Bucky agrees. Jack was too young to miss him. To be honest, he had spent little more than a few weeks with his son. It pains him to only have to watch the little one grow up from afar. But 8-year-old Anna is a smart girl and constantly asks him when he will finally come home for good. Another reason why this tour will be his last here. His children shall not just know him as the guy on the laptop screen. He has already burdened Lily with enough responsibilities because of his constant absence, and he will be grateful to her for her unfailing support until the end of his life.
“Are ya still coming to our camp?” Bucky wants to know.
Clint stretches a little, pushes his sunglasses back over his eyes, and looks at his watch. “Ah, sorry, man. I have another meeting with the higher-ups soon.”
“You could make yourself useful, and organize us some decent food for Thanksgiving.”
"I'll see what I can do," Clint nods sincerely. He knows how much it boosts morale within the units when the men feel like someone cares about them.
"And while you're at it, also for Christmas, Easter-"
“Don’t be rude, Buck.”
Sighing, Bucky sucks in a breath and grins. “Well, it was worth a try.”
Camp Victory
It’s still dark when Bucky makes his way to the small gate to check on the snow-white goat that he has named Alpine.
As he gets closer, he can see the animal lying down, sleeping on a layer of straw in a corner, and so he creeps the last few meters closer to it so as not to scare Alpine. Nobody knows where exactly the animal comes from or how old it is. One day, members of a scouting party had reported the goat was wandering around alone, and Bucky had simply grabbed Torres from his team and set off to capture Alpine. He couldn't say why exactly, but in retrospect, it didn't matter. The trusting goat quickly crept into everyone's hearts and was lovingly cared for by the men.
He stands silently at the barrier and watches Alpine for a few moments. A slight smile plays on his lips as he enjoys the peaceful atmosphere. In moments like these, he’s able to briefly ignore the war going on around him and feels transported back to the time when he spent his summer vacation on the farm with his grandparents.
Alpine stirs, cranes her head, sticks her nose in the air, and takes in the scent. Somewhat awkwardly and sluggishly, she struggles to her feet and greets him with a joyful bleat.
Bucky walks towards her through the gate, kneels down, and scratches her dusty fur. He carefully strokes her thick sides. “It’s getting pretty tight in there, huh?” he murmurs. Of course, he has done his research and assumes that at least two fawns were growing up in Alpine. “Can’t wait to meet your babies, Alpy.” He reaches into his trouser pocket and pulls out a carrot that he has picked up from the canteen.
Alpine grabs it furiously and tugs at the carrot that Bucky is holding tightly until she manages to bite off a piece.
“Morning, Sarge.”
Bucky turns around and recognizes Joaquín Torres, who has just joined their unit a few months ago and is therefore their greenhorn. “Morning,” he nods to him.
“Still no kids, huh?” Torres asks, enjoying his pun. You could clearly see the laughter and anticipation on his face.
“No, Alpy’s certainly making it exciting,” Bucky replies, smirking.
“They’ll definitely come when we’re on tour,” says the young soldier, sounding a bit disappointed.
“We can only wait,” Bucky shrugs, trying to appear calm. But of course, he secretly hopes that he will be able to be there at the birth.
Together they set about cleaning the gate, filling up the water, and providing fresh food. There’s even a work plan within the team to ensure that Alpine is always well looked after.
Almost 20 minutes later they go into the morning briefing.
When Bucky and Torres enter the briefing room, most of the commanders are already present, and it doesn't take long until the leader on duty, Colonel Nick Fury, appears.
As always, the experienced veteran gets straight to the point after looking over the room from behind the standing desk. In quick succession he goes through the plan for the day, hands out some papers, explains the latest satellite images, and discusses previous missions with the men.
After dismissing the other soldiers, he pauses briefly, then turns to Bucky: “Sergeant Barnes, I have a special assignment for you.”
Bucky is irritated for a moment. He knows nothing about a special order; his daily plan had included a reconnaissance mission. Still, he nods at him and waits for further instructions. “Colonel.”
"The State Department has tasked Colonel Beecham with assembling a team to extract a group of NGO volunteers from an area that has been identified as a danger zone following recent developments in the region."
“Sir? Colonel Beecham?” Bucky asks. The colonel commands a completely different battalion.
“Right, this morning the report came that Sergeant Brubaker was killed and now you come into play. The team needs a replacement at short notice. I have all the relevant information compiled for you, Sergeant.” Fury holds out a folder.
A look at the files reveals nothing unusual. Compared to previous missions, this doesn't sound particularly challenging. More like a babysitting job. But of course Bucky keeps his opinions to himself; it’s not his place to complain about tasks assigned to him.
Fury continues: “You know your way around that area, don’t you? That’s why I thought of you first.”
“Yes, Colonel,” Bucky confirms after taking a look at the geographical data. “There are some settlements there that are friendly to us.” Not a point to be neglected, because especially in times of crisis, people are grateful for any opportunity to avoid new conflicts.
“Then get ready. Departure is at 0900.”
"Yes, sir."
The sun is beating down mercilessly when Bucky appears in front of the building next to the helipad in full gear, including a helmet and machine gun. He goes over the list Fury had given him again. On it are the names of the people he’s supposed to bring safely back to camp with the other team. In total, there are four men, all of whom volunteered as teachers, craftsmen, social workers, and development workers.
The deafening roar announces the arrival of a helicopter and all the men in the immediate vicinity of the landing point scramble to safety. Fine clouds of dust are kicked up by the landing helicopter and briefly deprive the men of their visibility and air to breathe. After the dust settles, the men begin unloading and reloading supplies into the helicopter.
Air Force Pararescue Sam Wilson walks up and greets Bucky with a handshake. “Hey, Sarge.”
“Sam! Back in action again?” Bucky asks the soldier who serves as a rescue jumper in the 58th unit.
“Looks like it,” Sam nods and grins broadly. “Hey, I have the concentrate for Alpine with me. Are the fawns here yet?”
Bucky has to grin at him also. Alpine is known far beyond the camp boundaries. He’s pleased that Sam has remembered his request to look for suitable food. "Not yet. There are already bets on which day it will happen. You can still join us. And thanks for the food. Alpy can really use it when she suckles the young ones.”
“No problem, man. I’ll take it to your quarters?” There's never a question if Sam will help others when he can.
"OK."
Sam looks at his counterpart and recognizes the combat gear. “New operational order?”
“Yep, I was assigned to Bravo Company at short notice. We need to collect some civilians before the situation on site escalates,” Bucky informs him.
Two Humvees drive up, with Joaquín and Lemar Hoskins at the controls. John Walker begins loading equipment into the two vehicles.
Sam nods goodbye to him. “Let me know if you need anything else for Alpine. I’ll be here for a few more days.”
“I’ll get back with you, Sam.” Then he goes to Torres. “Change of plans. I have to go over to the 3rd Battalion,” he informs him and then walks over to the helicopter. He plans a maximum of 2 days for the mission, so he says: “See you Friday. Take good care of Alpy!”
“All right, Sarge.”