Semper Fi Ch. 23 (Captain America: TWS)

Brock

 I'd been so prepared to loose her. I'd been ready for her to see me in the hospital and leave me, but when I woke to her pleading voice, saw the worry etched on her face, I think I knew, it was going to be okay. Still, I'd wanted to be sure. She looses herself in her thoughts on the short ride to the new HYDRA facility and I watch her face. She's happy, sad, then happy again, and she can only be thinking about her old Platoon. I watch her face, her gorgeous eyes bright with tears that she holds back. The green of them shifts, light with happiness, dark with grief. She looks to me when the Helicopter touches down and smiles slightly, reaching over to me.
 "We can take off the bandages on your face now. Doc only put them on for transport."She says, "I'll take them off when we get you to our room." I smile, though she can't see it. I'm so full of painkillers right now that I don't really hurt. Diana pushes my chair herself, wheeling me for the room we'd been issued. It's an exact copy of our old room, but a little bigger, and I notice, a little bit removed from the doors other agents were coming in and out of. I smile to think they'd moved us because of our... exuberance. Diana looks to me, a softness in her eyes I'd never seen before, and she helps me out of my chair and into our bed. She helps me maneuver the covers and then sits me up so she can remove the bandages around my face. She's gentle, making sure nothing pulls as she unwinds the bandages. Once they are gone, and I can see her better, and she me, I look to her.
"Is it bad?" I ask. She shakes her head.
"Rumlow, no." She whispers. "No. It's not." She looks like she wants to kiss me, but she also doesn't want to hurt me. Doc List said I had to keep my arms as still as possible. Bad as my face was, my arms bore the brunt of the burns. Diana unwraps my arms and grabs the medical supplies the facility supplied her with, and, with hands just as skilled as the Doctors that cleaned my burns, she applies the cream, re-wraps my arms, and tosses the old bandages. She's silent through all of this, eyes downcast with concentration, and I lean forward to gently brush my lips against hers. She pauses, eyes closed as if savoring the kiss, and smiles.
 "How long did the Doc say I'd be laid up?" I ask.
 "He says you can resume light activity in a week." She replies, "He also said something about 'Sex counting as a strenuous activity' so unfortunately for both of us, it's off the table for at least a week, if not two." She's back to teasing, which makes me happy. She moves around the room, setting up the supplies so she has easy access, and then notices a message left for her on a datapad. "I've got a meeting with Pierce." She states, turning to me, "Be a good boy until I get back, okay?"
 "Maybe." I reply. She comes over, places a very gentle kiss on the one bit of my face that isn't too badly burned: my forehead, and then departs. I wonder what her meeting is about.

Lester

 Diana and I cross paths in the hallway, evidently, we are en route to the same place, so we fall in step together, she walking fast, myself matching her. She looks over, and sighs quietly.
 "Something on your mind?" I ask. She nods.
 "I'm... worried." She replied. "Rumlow."
 "What's going on?"
 "He told me if I wanted to leave him because of his injuries that I could." She says, sadness in her voice. I'm not sure what to make of that. Rumlow loved Diana... maybe he thought seeing his injuries every day would hurt her somehow, maybe he thought she wouldn't find him attractive anymore. But I felt like their relationship was more than physical, it was love. She loved him for him and he loved her for being her. I didn't know all of it, but the way he looked at her, looked at the others around her, made me certain of his affections.
 "He loves you." I offer, "He loves you a lot. And I think you love him."
 "I do." She says, "Which is why I'm worried. I don't think he's going to take the healing well... I have to work on keeping him happy."
 "If anyone can, it's you." I nod. I open the door to the briefing room for her and follow her in. She's still in civvies. I'm in my uniform. I wonder if we're really here for the same reason.
 As it turns out, we weren't. But Schmidt needed to speak with both of us. Diana sits down, legs crossed, arms crossed over her chest.
 "Sergeant Major," Schmidt begins. Diana sits forward, glad to hear her title being used, "Mr. Pierce and I spoke at length about your requests."
 "And?" She goads.
 "I'm willing to negotiate with you on some of them, others, I should like to grant in full, because I see merit in them."
 "Which ones?" She asks. I don't know what she's talking about. What requests had she made? I trusted that they were good requests, but I'm interested to hear about this. She has a look on her face, I can't place the emotion, but it looks like she knows what he's going to say.
 "I'll grant you every request you made. A facility for the Crew, Review your missions, I'll keep you out of any mission to kill the Captain or the Winter Soldier," He pauses, tapping his fist against the desk with each point lightly, "I'll let Pierce be your handler." Diana nods for him to continue, and he stares her down, "But I will not remove Marie from the Crew."
 "Sir, with all due respect-,"
 "I did not give you leave to speak, Sergeant Major." Schmidt cuts her off. "Marie is staying on the Crew because I do not trust that HYDRA's best interests are in yours."
 "Sir," She tells him, "Pull up the footage from my spar with her. She's not good enough-,"
 "Your mission will range past the brute force you so love, Sergeant Major."
 "Then do this. Make her go through the HYDRA training academy, no help from you." She counters, "Let her acclimate to the times and then I'll re-evaluate my stance on her." Schmidt seems to consider before he finally nods.
 "Alright, I can do that." He says, nodding, "You and the Crew will be moving to a new Facility in one week. There will be rooms for all of you, and an apartment for Mr. Pierce. Any more demands?"
 "Sound proof the walls around me and Rumlow's room." She replies, turning and leaving Schmidt's office.

Diana

 I have bought us time as a team, which is good and bad. Good because Marie won't be joining the Crew until she's ready. Bad because she will be more prepared to be with us, but we'll have worked together so long that the dynamic will change when she joins. I decide I'll deal with it later. I supposed to meet with Pierce in two days to go over weapons and what we would need on specific missions. I also push this to the back of my mind as I head for my room. Rumlow is up, in the bathroom. I go to him and find him staring in the mirror. I smile sadly, watching him as he slowly processes what's happened. He'll look different. He'll be scarred for the rest of his life. I wrap my arms around his torso and place my forehead against his back.
 "I'm sorry this happened to you." I mumble. He turns, not wrapping his arms around me in return because he can't due to the grafts. He looks down at me.
 "I'll be alright." The lie is obvious. I allow him to fool me though, to make him feel better.
 "Like I told you... you're on my six from now on, and I'm on yours." I say gently, looking up at him. "I won't let you out of my sight."
 "I love you, Diana Calhoun." He whispers, taking a hold of my HYDRA issued Dog Tags. He takes his own, and puts the second tag of his on my chain. I do the same for him, remembering when Bucky and I had swapped tags. It showed that Rumlow was mine and I was his, that we were together, that I held his name over my heart as I held my own identity. I loved him. He smiles, glad I returned the gesture and I kiss his forehead.
 "I love you, Brock Rumlow." I reply. He looks at his name now proudly displayed between my breasts and lets out the smallest of smiles. "Nothing will ever change that."
 "Don't say that." Brock states quietly, "There's always change."
 "I mean it. I love you. A lot of people would say it's too soon, but I do. Seeing you like this... sad... it hurts me, because I want you to be happy."
 "I'm shitty with emotions, Diana." Rumlow admits, heading back into the room, "But..." He smiles at me, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I need you. Here. In my life, on my six. For the rest of my life."
 "Brock..." I say, sitting beside him. I want to kiss him, to pin him down and make love to him, but I don't want to hurt him. He smiles.
 "I was... glad you didn't want to leave me after the accident." He mumbles, looking down.
 "Rum, I'm not with you purely for looks." I touch his leg, "It helped, but I love who you are. You were always kind to me. Always." I kiss his forehead again, stroking his hair gently. The ends have scorched off, so he can't coif his hair like he used to. It's shorter now, and I could trim it into a crew cut if he wanted me to. He sighs happily.
 "You're my nurse now, huh?" Rumlow asks, raising an eyebrow. I smirk and nod.
 "I am." I lay down beside him and let him pull me in to his side. I rest my head on his chest and my arm over his torso, hook my leg over his and lay there, as close as I can get to him, and breathe in his scent. He smells faintly of smoke still, but I don't mind. He's okay. I'm in his arms and he's in my bed and it's all okay now. He kisses the top of my head.
 "And what's treatment looking like?" He asks.
 "One week total bed rest, no strenuous activity. You can eat whatever you want, but you have to take a pain medication with your meals. I have to change your bandages on your arms every six hours and also putting cream on them to help speed healing. After the week, depending on how well you've healed up, we'll see about scaling up activity." He nods, and I roll over to lay beside him, but not touch his arms, because I didn't want to upset the grafts. "I heard that they didn't have to take donor skin from your body." I say, "They've figured out how to grow skin for grafts in the lab from your cells, and they can do it quickly. So it's all you."
 "Good to know they didn't have to take butt skin." Rumlow chides, "It's not fun."
 "So you've had to have grafts before?" I ask. He nods.
 "Oh yeah. And they used to take patches from your ass."
 "Well I can't tell." I tease, winking at him and smiling, my eyelids are getting heavy. Rumlow kisses me.
 "Get some rest," he says, "It's late." I check the time. Rumlow's right. More time had passed than I thought, and it was one in the morning.
 "Do you want out of your clothes?" I ask, swinging my legs over the bed to I can slip out of my boots and pants. Rumlow nods.
 "Shirt and pants off." He nods, looking at me. I nod, looking at the shirt he's wearing. Someone hadn't been thinking and put a pull over shirt on him. I'd have to find him a button down to wear while I had to dress him, because the last thing he needed to do was tear his grafts or rub his burns.
 "I'm cutting that off of you." I tell him, going to see if they'd put my switchblade where it was at the old place. They had, thankfully, and I grab it from its place in the nightstand. Rumlow smirks as I come over to him with the knife, poising it at the top of his collar.
 "I didn't know you were in to this kind of stuff." He teases, and I'm glad to hear he's back to his old teasing self. I smirk back, slicing the shirt away and sliding the scrap of black material out from underneath him. His chest had small cuts across it, nothing life threatening, and he was a little red, like he'd gotten a sunburn. But his abdomen was nearly untouched by burns, protected by his shirt and bulletproof vest. I move down, unlacing his boots, and slide them from his feet. Again, whoever dressed him after his surgery ought to be shot. Who puts a man with second and third degree burns in full clothes. Embarrassing as it would be, put the man in a hospital gown for Christ's sake! I put his boots and socks on the floor at the foot of the bed and help him slide out of his fatigues, leaving him only in his tight fitting boxers. I secretly hoped a male nurse had dressed him, otherwise, I'd have a bitch to kill. She'd have seen, and touched far too much of Rumlow for my liking. I sleep in my white tank top, curling up beside Rumlow for the night. His breathing is shallow, a little too light for my liking, but he's breathing. It must be the smoke he got in his system earlier, making it hard on him. He puts an arm over my waist, pulling me tight against his chest, and I turn to rest my head in the crook of his neck. I love him. And we'll get through his injury together.

 In the morning, I can tell exactly when Rumlow's pain meds are starting to wear off, because he gets fidgety in his sleep. I get up, grab a cup from the bathroom, and a pill from one of the bottles on the nightstand. I wake Rumlow and have him sit up, but I don't give him the pills yet.
 "Babe," I say gently, "Your pain meds are wearing off, but I have to get you something to eat to go with, okay?" I tell him. He nods, and I grab the first thing I see for pants, which are incidentally, Rumlow's pants, and I slide them on and cuff them at the bottom so they don't drag on the floor. They sling low on my hips, showing off my defined hip bones, and my tank top is a little too short without being tucked in, so my stomach shows a little. Rumlow eyes me, smirking all the while, and I slide in to my combat boots, not lacing them.
 "Damn," He says, yawning a bit, "If I get that visual every morning, I'll get myself injured more often."
 "Don't." I tell him as I turn to leave.
I make my kitchen run quick. The mess is serving breakfast burritos, so I fill a tortilla with steak, cheese, egg and bacon, roll it up tight, and give him a side of grits, which I salt and pepper. I slide a glass of orange juice onto the corner of the tray, and grab an apple for myself. Rumlow is still sitting up when I return with his breakfast, and I place the tray on his lap.
 "Looks good." He says. "But you didn't get anything." I swipe the apple from the tray, and place his pills in its place. He rolls his eyes, digging in to his food before taking the meds. "You need to eat."
 "It can wait." I tell him, "The Crew is on light duty until you're better and we've moved to the new Facility." He nods slowly, "I'll have time to get something later. It's six in the morning, and I just got up. I'm barely awake yet." I sit on the desk, one leg swinging down below me, the other hitched up so I can rest my elbow on my knee. I bite in to the apple and monitor Rumlow, making sure he eats and takes his meds. I'll change his bandages after he's eaten.
 "I made some requests with Pierce... and I got all of them except one." I say. "But Schmidt and I reached an agreement on that last one."
 "Which was?"  
 "I asked him to have Marie put through a modern Training. Make sure she's up to snuff on modern day work. It's an agreeable request."
 "I think so. It delays her being on the team." Rumlow observes, "And by then, we'll be a unit."
 "That was my thought." I agree, smiling. Rumlow smirks.
 "You're... diabolical." He teases. He's finished his food, so he swallows his pills with his orange juice, chugging the glass and setting aside the tray. I've finished my apple, so I put the core on the tray and move it to the desk so I can sit with Rumlow.
 "And I also need to change your bandages." I tell him. He groans slightly but I make quick work of getting the bandages on his arms off, and I apply his cream. He groans softly at the relief the cool cream gives him, and I wrap his arms back up. I look over the burns to make sure they're healing, and smile when I see that they've already begun to stop weeping and bleeding.
 "Thanks." He says, "I'm glad I don't have to be at the Hospital for this. It's much nicer to have you as my nurse." I stand up, tossing his used bandages and going to wash my hands. I scrub them well, up to my elbows, and then return to Rumlow's side.
 "I need to go train." I say, "I'll pull some strings at the security room and have the cam footage of the gym rigged to this tv." I point to the small screen across from the bed. Rumlow, nods.
 "You know I'll be checkin' you out, right?" He smirks. I nod. I go to the closet and slip in to my workout shorts, and I take off my shirt, leaving me in my black sports bra. I lace on my trainers, and grab my gym bag.
"Give me a beep if you need anything." I tap my communicator on my ear and he nods. His sits on the nightstand.
 "I will." He says.

 It hadn't been hard to convince the guy from Security to rig the tv in Rumlow and my room. I gave him the excuse that Rumlow wanted to oversee the training of the team. I make my way down to the gym now, and find most of the team already there. Georges and James are sparring in the boxing ring, and I sidle up to watch. I wrap my hands while I stand there, and then slide on my fingerless gloves.
 "Who's willing to put 'em up against me?" I ask, looking around. Rollins steps up, one hand raised. We kick off our shoes and socks and as Batroc puts James on his ass, I jump in to the ring. I offer and hand to James and smile.
 "I had him on the ropes." He tells me. Batroc confirms this.
 "He's good. Better than I thought he'd be." He jumps out of the ring and Rollins and I square off. Rollins has a couple of inches on me. I'm the same height as Rumlow, five foot ten, but he's over six foot, easily.
 
 He squares his shoulders and makes a dive at my left side. I jump back, spinning in midair to connect my heel with his side, but he grabs my leg, twisting it. I bring my opposite leg up and hook my knee around his neck, holding myself up with my core, bracing against Rollins's body. I twist, setting him off balance, and jump free, landing on my shoulder. I roll away as Rollins brings his foot down to hit me with his heel, and trip him, sending him sprawling. He recovers quickly, and we both regain our feet. He waits for me to strike first, and I oblige, aiming a punch at his face. He moves back slightly, and when he does, I aim my other fist at his chest. I connect with his sternum, knocking the wind out of him, and he falls back, gasping. He shakes off his daze and flips to his feet, only to meet my fist in his face. I pulled my punch though, if we got a mission, he couldn't be seriously injured. His nose is bleeding a little, and now he's thoroughly riled up, so his next attack comes quicker than I anticipated. He gives me a hard right hook to the face, and I stagger back, using the force of his punch to spin my body and bring my knee up to slam into the side of his neck. I grab him with both hands on the shoulders and bring my knee up again into his stomach, once more knocking the air out of him. He coughs, gets his hands on my sides, and he slams me into the mats in the ring. This was the spar I'd wanted when I challenged Marie. The wind leaves my lungs but I force more in in time to move my upper body out of the way of Rollins's elbow, which would have smashed into my face. His elbow hits the floor with a crack, and he grunts slightly. He hadn't pulled his hit. I manage to wrap my legs around his waist and I use them to throw him off of me and to the side, and I end up with one knee firmly planted on his chest, holding his arms down with everything I've got. I see James slamming his hand on the mats.
 "One!" He yells, slamming his hand down, "Two!" Rollins struggles to break free, but it's over. "Three!" Everyone whoops and I jump off of Rollins and help him up. He's sweating and we're both out of breath, but we're able to shake hands and smile and laugh at the end, so I know I haven't hurt his feelings.
 "Good fight." I tell him.
 "Good fight." He repeats. I pull him in, patting him once on the back before jumping out of the ring to watch the next two people spar. It's Lester and Clay this time. I'm curious to see how this will go down.

 Lester faces Clay and the two men circle, sizing the other up. Clay is taller, but I know that Lester will be faster. Clay has build, Lester has reach. It's interesting, for each point in their favor, the other has an opposing and equal strength. Speed to strength, height to reach, weight to agility. And I know that both men are good fighters. At one point, I couldn't beat Clay in a fair fight until we started sparring regularly, and I learned his tricks. Lester, I hadn't seen at all, but his file said he was agile, fast, and a quick thinker. He liked to talk to keep people off their feet. Clay steps in, raising his left knee as if to strike, then switching to kick with his right leg, Karate Kid style. The blow lands squarely on Lester's shoulder, and Lester takes a step back, smirking.
 "Learn that from a Kung Fu movie?" He asks, stepping in quickly and jamming his knee into Clay's stomach. Clay recovers quickly, his weight allowing him to absorb the blow and only feel a bit of it. He moves forward, a move I know to be coming, and my body involuntarily flinches, as if I am Lester and I'm reacting to what is to come. Clay puts his shoulder into Lester's chest, tackling him to the ground and coming up, like I had with Rollins, with his knee planted on Lester's chest. James begins to count, but Lester gets his legs beneath Clay and uses his feet to launch Clay over his head and off of him. Clay rolls, flips to his feet, and comes up, arms in front of his face to deflect a punch that would have knocked him out. He was reading the fight well, learning Lester's tricks. Lester pulls his punch, uppercutting instead with his opposite fist and catching Clay in the chin. Clay's head flies back, and he staggers a step before shaking it off and meeting Lester's eyes. The two go back and forth like this for nearly thirty minutes before I step in.
 "Good job boys." I say, "I call it a draw." Clay and Lester nod, a new kind of respect blooming between them. They were evenly matched, and neither man feels shamed because of it. Lester offers a hand and Clay takes it, shaking his hand. They swap a "Good fight" and head off, Lester to the gun range, Clay to the weights. Batroc is training James, they are standing off to the side, going over fighting form and stance, and Batroc is showing James some new kicks. Brian follows Clay to the weights, and Rollins is grabbing a drink. I go over to him.
 His black hair is slicked with sweat and he wipes his forehead with a towel. I'm no worse for wear, because of my Super Soldier enhancements. I don't fatigue like he does. He offers a smile and moves aside so I can get to the cooler. I grab a water and crack it open, taking a few long sips before speaking.
 "Crew's getting close." I tell him. He nods in agreement.
 "Batroc isn't a bad guy. I think he wants to be here. And Lester... you've got his respect. I can see that plain as day."
 "What about Brit Braddock?" I ask. Rollins glances to the ceiling, then down to me.
 "Brian? He's different. Powerful, I think, but he's not played his hand yet." Now it's my turn to nod my agreement. Rollins crosses his arms, which strains his shirt across his shoulders. His eyes focus on me, but one wanders. I don't want to ask him about it, but he answers anyway. "I was working a job and shrapnel hit my eye socket. I almost lost the eye, but the Doctor's were able to save it. Nerve damage makes it do whatever the fuck it wants." He chuckles. I can see now that he has a thin scar on the left side of his face.
 "That's irresponsible." I tease. He lets out a laugh and then coughs slightly, upholding his 'bad ass' facade.
 "How long is Rumlow laid up?" He asks.
 "Least a week. Maybe two. He's not a happy camper." I reply honestly. Rollins laughs again.
 "Like hell he ain't." He chides, crumpling his water bottle and tossing it into a bin. He stretches and wipes his nose. It's still bleeding a bit.
 "Sorry," I offer, "I didn't mean to-,"
 "Don't even start, Calhoun." He replies lightly, tilting his head back and holding his finger to the underside. "It's all good. I shoulda been paying attention. Where'd you learn to fight like that?"
 "Watching the Captain." I reply, "And Barnes. And I did a lot of sparring with Clay back in the day."
 "So it wasn't my imagination." Rollins sounds giddy. "He taught you?"
 "Yeah." I laugh, "It's why I have some of his moves." I say it like a joke, but I mean it. Rollins removes his hand from his nose. He has blood on his hands but he just wipes it on his gym shorts and looks at me again.
 "What's the news with us moving?" He leans against the wall now. "I heard Pierce say we were getting a facility of our own."
 "I spoke with him privately about some issues I had with the current state of the Crew, and what I wanted to do to fix them." I fold my hands behind my back, straightening, "I asked him if we could have our own place, because we can't afford to loose time with attacks on the main bases. We could give people a place to go during an attack, and also dispatch if we had to. I also asked to review our missions before we go, have Pierce as our Handler, and get Marie off the Crew. It's the only thing Schmidt wouldn't give me."
 "Then why isn't she here?" Rollins inquires. I lean on the wall too, looking at him, humor in my eyes.
 "I asked Schmidt to get her trained through Modern HYDRA Agent training, and then see if she's fit for the Crew." Rollins smirks and places a hand on my shoulder.
 "He'll see she's not ready." Rollins says brightly, nearly giddy. I nod.
 "He'll see that she's not even as good as some of the underlings." I respond. Rollins withdraws his hand and glances to the ceiling, laughing.
 "Diabolical." Rollins teases.
 "Second time I've heard that." I reply, laughing with him. "Rollins," I place my hand on his shoulder now, "I think this Crew is going to get on just fine."