It's all the Past. (Closed to captain_asthmatic)

[infligere]

Who: Steve Rogers & Brock Rumlow
When: Summer of 1941
What: Rumlow is sent to the past in order to alter the future for an assured victory for HYDRA in the Second World War.
Warnings: Rumlow being Rumlow. Violence. World domination


HYDRA was finally strong enough to have partial access to the Tesseract and the power that it held. Most of SHIELD science was trying to use the cube in a different way, as a power source but also as a gateway to another world. That was what it was for, but HYDRA had other plans for the Tesseract. The failure of the war was considered pivotal enough where some believed that if the past was altered then the miserable future that they currently lived in would have never come to pass. It would be a better world under the Red Skull.

He was just a boy when they started to study the ability to use the Tesseract as a gateway to span between time and space. He hadn't even decided what he wanted to be when he had grown up save that he would be a drunk and he would be a better man than those who were weak enough to die in the ditch. New York was a tough place to live where he did, but he survived and he go tough despite being in trouble with the law.

He was recruited in juvenile detention, and his life changed. His life became something worth living, so he served and went where he was told, learned the skills that they told him to. He survived, and he learned that just like the miserable kids on the streets, he could lead if he said the right word. It didn't matter to him about race, gender or social class. If one could get the job done and do it well, he would respect them. If not, they were no better then dirt under his boots. He drove men to better though because he wasn't dying because they were weak.

When he was twenty-four, he was taken off of his final tour and sent to New Jersey. He and twenty other men were put into Project Rewind and they were drilled hard and fast into the early forties such as culture, class, history, fashion, currency and even linguistics patterns. The Tesseract was going to sent one lucky man back to alter history to assure HYDRA of a win it was owed. He studied hard, but he wasn't top on the list to get chosen for trial; he was somewhere in the middle.

The first six men never came back. Rumors began to circulate that the project was never going to work. He ignored them and kept fit and loyal. He had to know what to do if it was him that made the transition. He knew the people he was supposed to talk to, the hands he was to shake, the men who would get him in and let him follow the final order to the best of his ability. The next three men never came back either.

Brock volunteered as the tenth. He was given his orders: find Steve Rogers, get close and deliver the super soldier to the Red Skull. Do that and victory was assured.

He was dressed in clothing appropriate to the time era he was supposed to be going to save that he snuck his favourite knife into his boot. He was given some currency with the appropriate dates and told to stand in a particularly spot. He was staring right at the Tesseract, and it seemed far more beautiful than the potential of a horrible death. He noted the spot where he was standing smelled like burnt flesh. It made his toes curl in his boots, but he set himself.

Brock Rumlow was born in 1971. When he opened his eyes after the blue flash of light and the frigid cold of energy that felt like it was burning his flesh right off of his bones, he was standing in the streets of New Jersey in 1941. He was twenty five, and he hadn't even been born yet. He was here to change the future, a future that no longer existed for him because he was here. This was his present. This was his future.

Slowly, he tottered off on shaky legs to get in touch with the right people. He enlisted at the right time, at the right station with the right doctor and he was chosen for Project Rebirth. He was shipped to Camp Lehigh to form a unit of special forces for the United States military under the SSR. The first day was debriefings, a set of their itinerary, books, the start of the rigors of usual boot camp. It wasn't even as physical as his boot camp had been.

It wasn't hard to spot Steve Rogers, and he admitted to not finding the kid anything to look at, but this was going to be a legend. This was going to be Captain America, and he knew what that small frail body was going to turn into and what that stubborn man was going to do for America. Rogers was the joke of the group on a lesser level than Agent Carter. Everyone expected Rogers to drop out or die. No one even really talked to the guy for the first day, not even in the mess hall.

Rumlow sized the guy up all day, waiting and looking for opportunity to approach. Their assigned barracks were pretty much like ancient cabins, the bunks were alright, but the living quarters the usual crammed pieces of crap. He took the bunk on top of Steve's when it was apparent no one else would; he knew guys were punished for not pulling their weight. He swaggered over and stood in front of the scrawny man with his pack on his shoulder and his uniform jacket hanging open.

"Do you mind if I take the top bed?" Everyone stopped to look, but he paid them no mind. Instead, he reached out with his right hand. "Brock Rumlow, pleased to make your acquaintance." Ugh, he was going to barf on his shoes with all this niceness.

Comments

[infligere]

He just had to chuckle because it was kind of funny to see this weedy thing picking fights. However, he knew history, and he knew that Steve stood up for beliefs. He could respect that; he liked a man who had that kind of strength of character.

"Well, I think you might be in the wrong place," he said with a grin. "This room has a few in it, and I think Hodge has your number. Where'd you learn to fight?"

[captain_asthmatic]

"I never learned to fight," Steve said. The lights went down, and everything was pitch black. He was exhausted from the day, but interested in this conversation, so he kept his eyes open. "I just... kept standing up again."

[infligere]

"Seriously?" That was pretty stupid in his opinion, but it seemed that Steve was going to make it through. He went quiet when lights when out before he said before laying back, "I'll teach you how to throw a good punch. And a kick for that matter."

He lay back as the room went quiet, and he knew from his own boot camp that talking was now prohibited. They were to sleep and the morning would come fast. He was fine with that; he had everything that he wanted right now and was in perfect position to accomplish so much.

He slept and certainly wasn't surprised when the call for rising and getting dressed happened. He was in his uniform first, it in perfect condition, his bed made appropriately with all the corners tucked in tight and his stuff put away. Inspection happened first, and it was always a bear the first time. It took forever as men were berated and talked down.

[captain_asthmatic]

Steve knew it was stupid, but he hadn't really had a choice. He'd had no one to teach him really, and he couldn't just ignore bullies. Bucky had also learned by scrapping, he'd just been better at it - bigger and faster. But there had been no technique to it.

The first morning came, and though Rumlow was perfectly tucked and ready, Steve had missed a corner of his bunk and was ordered to redo it ten times, perfectly, before he'd be allowed to go for breakfast. But he wasn't the only one. Once he'd finally passed inspection, he waited until they were allowed to jog to mess, and fell in with Rumlow.

He was about to ask him a question, when Hodges went by, jostling him and throwing him into the other man.

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He made certain he wasn't perfect for inspection, but he chose what he missed rather than just plain missing it. He had to redo the collar of his uniform at the back and his hair was a bone of contention given that it was long up top and short at the sides. It wasn't really a style of this age, but he hadn't wanted to change it. Hair was one thing he was arrogant about.

He jogged easily at the back of the line, turning his head when Steve came to him. Perfect! His eyes flicked to Hodge, but he simply grabbed Steve and righted the kid and glared at the man Steve had fallen into. "Keep on stepping or we'll be late for meals. I ain't missing it on day two."

He didn't ask Steve if the guy was alright; it hadn't been that bad and it seemed degrading by his measure to do so. He just kept jogging and he took his share of the rations and found an end of a table to sit at, aware he would be joined by a certain someone.

[captain_asthmatic]

Steve was glad Rumlow didn't make a fuss or ask him if he was okay. This sort of thing was to be expected, and Steve was determined to endure it without complaint. If he couldn't make it through this on his own, he didn't deserve whatever Erskine had planned.

He did make a beeline for Brock, though, when he had his tray. "You did great this morning," he complimented him. "I didn't know sheets could be so neat without an iron."

[infligere]

Well, the food hadn't changed much from one military operation to another. It actually might be more real in this day and age, but he didn't really mind. He knew that food rations could be taken from punishment, and he also knew that they could be ordered up and out before meal time was over.

He smiled brightly at the compliment. "Ah well, it's all about the corners. You keep them tight and folded and everything else falls into play. Mum taught me young as punishment for sneaking out," he said with a grin. That was an outright lie; his mother barely got out of bed in the last few years of her life. "I'm too used to dressing like a street rat, so I never get my collars right."

[captain_asthmatic]

Steve didn't turn his nose up at the food, but ate doggedly, knowing his body needed the fuel that this was what he had to fuel it with.

"The corners, huh? I'll remember that." He smiled brightly at Rumlow and then applied himself to his meal. He felt lucky to have found himself someone he could relate to, who didn't look down on him.

The day of training was just as horrific as the day before, but Steve pushed himself to keep up with determination, even when the other recruits made it harder. And the day after that, and the day after that. Only Rumlow seemed to be a bright spot in his days, though they didn't talk that much. Steve was so exhausted, he practically fell asleep in his dinner some nights.

Then one night, rough hands grabbed Steve, and put a hand over his mouth as they pulled him out of his bunk.

[infligere]

Brock ate at the same pace as Steve, and their conversation was quiet compared to some of the usual rowdy hollers from the other men in the mess hall. Day two of training saw him casually stopping a bit of sabotage on Steve but not all of it; a man had to prove he could take it in his mind. He also turned down the invitation to join in with the other men, citing that he was the leader of the cool group already.

Training was a bear, but it was easier than he remembered. He had to limit himself to their level so as not to excel and give himself away. He also kept up what friendly ties with Steve that he could, though the poor guy was at a physical disadvantage at all times. He never asked if Steve was alright save to just pick the guy up, hand over his helmet and continue on.

Brock woke to the sound of bodies moving, and his hand was immediately pulling his favourite knife from under his pillow. He breathed evenly and listening, trying to pinpoint the sound. It was movement close to him but not coming up to his bunk. That meant that someone had finally taken it upon themselves to haze Rogers. He heaved himself up out of bed, leaving his weapons behind - he could thrash them all anyway - and went in silent search of the area.

[captain_asthmatic]

Steve was aware that Rumlow seemed to be having an easier time of things, but then, everyone was. He was in too much discomfort to really notice, even if it had been obvious. Rumlow settled firmly into the upper middle of the pack to the evaluators - a good soldier, even great, but not what Erskine was looking for.

Steve struggled against the hands on him, but had no chance against their strength. They pulled him to a shadowed area behind the barracks. " What are you even dying here, huh? You don't belong here, weakling!"

And then the punches and kicks started.

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Men were unimaginative. Rumlow skulked silently through the barracks and slipped outside because there was no sounds even as he passed the bathroom. They had to have taken it outside. Most men wouldn't bother to salvage a weak link from torment; it was the way of the military. The strong served and the weak stayed home, but this wasn't about that. His mission was to get close to Steve Rogers.

He slipped outside, easing around the building until he could hear the sounds of flesh impacting flesh. He took a moment to relish simple brutality, and then he stepped around and grabbed the first man, Hodge he thought, and drove a swift punch into the man's left kidney.

"Stop it, you jerks," he hissed into the night. "You're out passed curfew." He seized another man by the throat and batted aside the attempt at a punch, and then he head butted the third. It wasn't hard to chase them off after that and then he was left alone with Steve. Finally, he held out a hand. "You alright, kid? I liked your duck and cover technique."

[captain_asthmatic]

Steve had thought for a moment that Bucky had somehow magically shown up, like the whole army thing had been a lie and he'd really still been following Steve around at a distance this whole time.

He ignored the hand this time and dragged himself to his feet, wheezing and swaying. "I had... had them on the ropes." He tried to take a step, but staggered and nearly fell. That had been the worst beating he'd taken in a while, and his body was already over taxed.

[infligere]

He dropped his hand when it wasn't required, and he even admitted to being impressed at Steve's stubborn resilience to get up. So, this was Captain America? The man who wouldn't stay down in a fight; he could see why the war had gone the way that it did now that he had met the legend and moreover, seen this.

"Yeah, of course you did," he said and slung an arm around Steve's waist only to support the other man in walking but letting Steve do it himself. "Let's get you cleaned up in the officer's bathroom, okay?"

He led Steve away from the barracks to the officer's quarters where they technically weren't supposed to go. He didn't care though because it would be quiet, cleaner and less likely to have them stumbled upon. It was open - who locked shit in this day and age? - and he helped Steve inside before flicking on the lights. He whistled in appreciation on the mess in front of him. "Huh, you weren't kidding when you said you got up from any fight you're in."

[captain_asthmatic]

"Are we allowed to do that?" Steve hissed, but he didn't resist as Rumlow led him off. He didn't want to go into the barracks bathroom just yet, either.

At Rumlow's comment, he looked rueful and glanced down at himself. He didn't raspy know where to start and was shy about stripping off his clothes with all the bruises that had to be blooming. "Thanks for the help, Brock," he said uncomfortably. "I'm glad I have one friend here, at least."

[infligere]

"Only if we're not caught," he remarked but was going to do it anyway. He examined Steve's face first, but of course the guys had been smart enough to keep it mostly to body shots. Those were not part of an inspection and wouldn't raise any questions, especially given that Steve moved slowly in the mornings anyway from no doubt stiffness.

"Yeah, yeah, off with your shirt and let's make sure they didn't break anything," he said with an air of casual authority. "And I've already seen you naked in the communal showers, so don't be shy. We're all men here," he added with a shrug. He left Steve to get undressed and went for a cloth to wet in one of the sinks before returning with one wet one and one dry cloth.

[captain_asthmatic]

Steve nodded and pulled his shirt off over his head, revealing several darkening bruises on his ribs and sides, from boots. He boosted himself up onto the counter, feet dangling.

"Did you hear them pull me out of bed?" His voice was a little breathless, wheezing in his chest.

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He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, and there was at least one complete boot print on Steve's chest. Others were just bruises, and he waited for the smaller man to settle on the counter before he stepped over and applied his cool wet cloth to the largest and darkest looking bruise. He eyed Steve's breathing, wondering if the guy was going to have some kind of asthma attack.

"Yes, when they were dragging you away," he said before lifting his eyes from his work. "Now that you've been hazed, they might leave you alone."

[captain_asthmatic]

Steve was trying to keep his breathing steady and take full breaths, but he was on the edge of an attack. In his time, puffers hadn't been invented yet, and he would just need to work his way through it if his airways closed.

He gasped a bit as the cool cloth touched his chest. He looked down at what Rumlow was doing, struggling for breath. "You...you really... think so? You stopped them."

[infligere]

Medical destitute was something he was going to have to get used to back in this time. Hell, soldiers got stabbed with vials of morphine, which seemed both a brilliant and poor way to go. He let Steve breath without staring too much, aware that his attention was better suited elsewhere.

"Agent Carter said we're doing combat exercises tomorrow," he said simply. "You know, competitive matches and stuff." He looked up at Steve and smirked. "I'm going to win. You won't suffer like you did tonight again."

[captain_asthmatic]

Despite the struggle he was having to breathe, Steve was beginning to relax as it sank in that he was safe and that Rumlow was tending to his bruises. He cocked his head slightly. "I know they'll be scared of you... but are you really going to put yourself out there as my protector?"

He crooked his lips wryly. "I appreciate the help, but... if I can't stand on my own, Brock... I don't deserve to be here."

[infligere]

He shifted the cloth to another bruise to apply cold there with one hand and felt along Steve's flesh checking for breaks that the other man might be hiding. He went for ribs mostly, walking his fingers up them in search of more than just bruising aches.

"They'll respect me," he corrected. "And they'll be forced to respect my decision that you're not to be bullied. We're all in this together and a team is only as strong as its apparent weakness member. Physically that's you. Emotionally, that's Hodge," he said simply.

He paused at the final statement and leaned his face in so they were practically nose-to-nose. "You deserve to be here like any other man. Never forget it, Rogers."

[captain_asthmatic]

"I hope...you're right," he admitted.

He hated the idea of not being able to stand up for himself, but five partially trained soldiers was far more than anything he'd had to deal with on the street, and on the street he'd mostly had Bucky to save him. Now, apparently, he had Brock. His pride made it hard for him to deal with this, but he was also grateful.

Steve was beginning to shiver, partly the chill of the night, and partly from reaction to the beating he'd taken. As Brock leaned in close, he nodded awkwardly, and reached out, gripping his shoulder and giving him a shy, but sincere smile. "Thanks, Brock..."

[infligere]

Steve was going to show them all when the guy became the fabled Captain America, since no one else had the good Doctor's eye at all. He wondered what would happen if he smothered Erskine in the night before the experiment and stole the serum. What would happen to the timeline? No, he wanted Rogers big and strong to be of more use to the Skull and if things with him and the Skull didn't work out, have Rogers on reserve to kill the bastard.

The corner of his lip upturned at the smile, and he rubbed the cloth gently on dirtied skin to remove it. He washed down Steve's small arms, but his dark eyes continued to flick up to Steve's face.

"Look, I protect you now, and when you get to be the first ever super soldier, you can save me when we hit war. Sound far?" It wasn't like he needed help, now with his current experience in warfare, but it might cement Steve to him a little more.

[captain_asthmatic]

Steve was still shivering, the shudders growing worse, and his breathing hitched in his throat with each shudder. But despite how cold he was, he was relaxed and reassured by Rumlow's ministrations. He found himself leaning closer, leaning into the warmth.

He smiled, their faces quite close together now, and lifted a hand to brace himself a little bit against the other man. "We've got a deal. I'll... I'll protect you, Brock. N-No matter what."

[infligere]

He stepped in once he had washed away the dirt on Steve's body and leaned over the man's shoulder to avoid any kind of eyeing one another. He examined Steve's back as much with his eyes as with his hands, fingers walking slowly along the smaller man's flesh in search of bruising there even if they were practically embracing by now.

"I'll hold you to your word," he whispered into Steve's ear. There might come a time when Steve would choke on them, and he would glory in that. He'd watch and laugh because it would be the day that Brock Rumlow ruled over Captain America and his mission would be fulfilled.

"Cold?"