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.
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.
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The next day, Steve received the news that he was selected for Dr. Erskine's program. That evening, he shared schnapps with the Doctor - well, the Doctor drank the schnapps, and Steve watched. The other recruits had already packed up all of their things, and Steve faced a sleep all alone for the first time in weeks.
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He shipped out, trained for two months and then was sent in as a reservist to the 107th to fill in the ranks for the upcoming assault on Azzano and holding that line. He saw his own share of action with his company, which was not the same as Barnes', but inquires had led him to know that the man was well-regarded. No point in friendly fire then. He instead concentrated on his own survival and elevating himself as the company sniper, which was not difficult given his cool head, his suspiciously good battle fortitude. By the time the 107th platoon had been captured, he already was called 'Crossbones' because he almost never missed a shot and anyone who entered his crosshairs received the old skull and crossbones.
He was captured with some of the 107th, placing himself well to be taken prisoner. Once there, he made contact with the Skull and proved himself a loyal follower and made the clear suggestion to Zola of the use of James "Bucky" Barnes on the experimental serum. All he had to do was work hard, survive and wait for the time when Captain America would grace them all with his presence.
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He wondered if Brock Rumlow was all right. Not to mention Bucky Barnes. It was impossible to get such information on the circuit, but he worried often about both of them. He had no idea that they were in such close proximity.
Finally, he was sent overseas, and learned that members of the 107th were captured. Next thing he knew, his friend Peggy and Howard Stark were airdropping him into the German forest, near the facility.
He made his way into the facility, and located the future Howling Commandos on the prison level. He made his way down the row, unlocking cages and freeing the prisoners, his eyes searching worriedly for Bucky Barnes, but he was soon told that Bucky had been taken and not returned. After freeing all of the prisoners, he moved off to search for his best friend, having no idea that his lover was also in the 107th and had also been captured.
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Why the Skull deemed him worthy of his own experimentation he had no idea. It was apparently part of a larger plan. He took the place of Barnes in isolation, strapped down and half the time mentally cursing the Skull and half the time marveling at the brilliance of colour behind his eyelids. Those colours hadn't been there before, had they?
Would history be fine? Would Steve know to continue looking or was this all just drunken waiting game that he wasn't going to win? Well, if the facility exploded and he was strapped here, he at least wouldn't have to give a shit anymore.
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"Brock!" Steve exclaimed and quickly shook his shoulder, trying to rouse him. Then he began to undo the straps.
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He sighted Steve and it took him a moment to place the face and the size of the guy. "I... had him on the ropes," he mumbled and flexed his hands. His knuckles were bloody and torn as if he had been literally fighting something previously.
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"I... there was another guy," he mumbled, sagging heavily. "They took him somewhere else... some other facility." Because Barnes needed more time. "You... should go look for him. I can get my way out." Too bad Barnes was long gone, but Steve didn't know that.
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He wasn't about to just abandon Brock. He looked like he'd been through hell and back, and then there were all the other soldiers. If Bucky was somewhere else, some other building, then Steve was just going to have to find another way to rescue him.
He looked around the room as he supported Brock, and saw the map on the wall. His eyes widened and he quickly memorized the locations of the HYDRA bases marked out there. Maybe Bucky would be at one of those. He'd just have to tear up Germany until he found him.
Then he began to lead Rumlow quickly towards the door. "Come on, I've got to get you out of here. Then I'll look for Bucky."
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He stumbled with Steve's help, barely keeping his feet under him but getting stronger now that he was upright. His arm tightened around Steve's neck as they moved from the isolation room. "I can find my own way," he said sternly. Then the building shook with the first explosion. "Nice body, by the way... I might miss that skinny ass all the same."
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He supported Brock as they walked, shaking his head. "You can barely stand. If Bucky's at another facility, it'll take me time to locate him, and I've got to get you and all the rest of the prisoners to safety." He glanced at Brock with bemusement. "Sorry. I hope it's not too disappointing after you've had such a great experience with my old body."
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He slowly got his feet under him now that they were moving, getting stronger with each step until he could stumble with Steve under his own volition. "Nah, you don't disappoint," he said with a flash of a grin. "Not enough time with that bag of bones you called a body though. I guess I'll just have to make sure this one's in working order... unless you found yourself a girl and all."
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Explosions began to rock the building, and Steve picked up the pace.
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He was able to keep up with the quicker pace, though he kept his arm around Steve for the sake of doing so. It was much harder now that Steve was so tall, but he didn't complain at all.
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He paused to be sure of his footing as the building shook again. "We've got to get out of here." He turned a corner, and there was the Red Skull.
Johann Schmidt didn't acknowledge Brock any more than he had done with Bucky under normal circumstances, but there was a slight flicker to the eyes, a note of suspicion. It was too late to capture Captain America - but he was trusting this strange HYDRA agent to complete his mission before the Captain could, and that trust came uneasily to Schmidt.
Still, after some bantering, Schmidt left them to their fates. Maybe they would die in the explosions.
Steve sent Brock out onto the rickety bridge first. "Go, go. I'll follow you."
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"Erskine burn your face off too?" He rested his arms on the railing, his eyes finding Zola and offering the man a subtle wink as the two soldiers were pulled apart. He eased away and moved when Steve directed him, still a little wobbly but fine to carry his own weight.
He moved unsteadily on the bar, the explosions like a thrill of straddling life and death. It gave him the illusion of an erection even as he was forced to run and jump the last few meters, barely catching himself on the railing and hauling himself over. He stared across the gap at Steve. He knew the Soldier could make the jump; he knew Rogers had made the jump.
"You're gonna have to jump it, super-soldier. I'll catch you on this side, come on!"
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Anyway.
He watched as Brock made the other side, but the bridge was gone and there was sure a lot of fire. He looked around, desperate. "Just go! I'll find another way around!" he yelled. He knew he had some skills at jumping, but was amazed that Brock actually thought he could make this distance.
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They might just burn anyway. He doubted it, but it was a reality that came with a building exploding around them. Steve had to be captured to be of use to the Skull, and that meant both of them surviving this.
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And he slammed into the railing right in front of Rumlow, grabbing desperately for them and trying to haul himself over before he could fall into the inferno below.
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He then slammed his mouth against Steve's, keeping the man fiercely but quickly. "That was the best thing I've ever seen." Not a lie either.
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Then he drew back and hurried down the corridor, drawing Rumlow with him. "Come on. We've got to catch up with the others."
Outside, there were a lot of HYDRA soldiers getting their asses kicked by GIs. Steve spent the next little while helping them to mop up while the facility itself collapsed and burned, then rounding up all the former prisoners and sorting out the wounded. They would need to walk out of enemy territory, but at least Steve knew which way to go.
Still, even as four hundred men began their joyous march back to safety, Steve was despondent and quiet. He had saved a lot of people, but Bucky was still missing, and he had no idea which facility he was in. Assuming that he was in any of the places marked on the map.
That night, as they made camp, Captain America pretended to smile and acknowledged the back slaps and thanks from the various former prisoners. But as soon as he could, he slipped away and sat by a tree, looking back the way they had come, struggling with himself. The others would be all right now. He could just go, and keep looking for Bucky.
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The march was actually a struggle for him, given the distance that they were required to go. He was by no means the worst off, so he didn't complain and kept pace, the bounce of is dogtags against his chest a rhythm that he kept to put one foot in front of the other until they made camp. He helped to distribute the little food and water that they had, noting that Captain Roger's slipped away.
He followed after a few minutes, aware of the problem. It would be so easy to put a bullet into the man's head, but the Skull wanted Rogers alive and useful. His job was to deliver on that need and to gather intelligence on the American war effort. So, he would have to do that.
He came to lean his shoulder against the side of the tree, looking in the same distance as Steve. "We've got a few Lieutenants who can get the men back across the line. If you want to go, I'll cover for you. You might be the only man alive who can play the one-man army game, but just know that if you die or get captured, Schmidt wins. No one else can stand up to him."
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He bit his lip at that succinct summation of the situation, feeling ashamed. He needed to save Bucky. Needed to. But maybe Brock was right. If he ran off selfishly again, it was possible that he'd be captured the next time, since now Schmidt knew what he could do. If he went back to the camp and talked to Colonel Phillips, maybe they'd let him organize a proper rescue.
"But I'm not doing any good as I've been for the last few months," he said. "If I go back and they put me back on the war bonds trail again, no one's going to rescue Bucky or stop Schmidt."
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"You make it sound like, after this hair-brain rescue mission, they are going to waste you on war bonds. If anything, news of this will do far more than any songs you've sung," he said with a shrug of his shoulders. "Phillips is an old boy; he plays by the rules of what a man can do, and you've proven what you can do. He'll put you in play."
He shifted his footing and rested more against the tree. "I'll go after your friend for you if you want, if you can't do it yourself. He's obviously very important to you."
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He got to his feet and shook his head. "No, I can't let you go after him alone. You just escaped."
He reached out and put a hand to the back of Rumlow's neck, leaning close again. "Thanks...for talking me down. You're right. I'll go back, and make Phillips put me in the field, and then go after Bucky. I have intel that they need, for one thing, and for another, I don't think this is something I can do all by myself. I need a team."
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Hmm, possibly another timeskip? Unless you want to smut first XD