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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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Not with that tempting hot mouth on him.
He groaned and would have voiced Steve's name if he could, but he was tasting his disgusting sweater that was in serious need of a wash. His little thrusts lost some of their smoothness and became a little more erratic before he came with a loud groan of pleasure.
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"Was that okay?"
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"Perfect," he hissed against Steve's lips and kissed again.
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He leaned into the kiss with a soft moan of pleasure, made even more eager by Rumlow's excitement. He pressed in close and wrapped both arms around Rumlow, pressing close and holding him tightly.
"I'm really glad," he murmured.
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"Been a long time; I never thought we'd be having an opportunity to do this again," he murmured softly. "You're quite the catch after all."
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"I know the feeling," he admitted softly. "I guess we both got lucky."
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"Lucky and maybe a bit stupid," he said with a smirk as he kissed the tip of Steve's nose.
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"Maybe just a bit."
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"Think they'll give you the rank after all this mess if over and they realize how useful you are in the field? I'm going to look forward to calling you 'Captain', you know."
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It turned out that it was a Lieutenant looking for Cap for instruction on how to move the men, giving numbers of wounded men and those with weapons. It reminded him that he was working for two sides, and if he wasn't careful, one or both was going to kill him outright. That just made all of this very thrilling.
"Guess you being in command and all means we have to get back, huh?"
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He was given the once over by a first aid doctor and saw little point in mentioning that he had been an experiment by the Skull and Zola. Nope, that was private business, and he had other matters that took his attention most of all. Like the fact that Rogers was going to form a specialized team any day now, and he had to be on it though couldn't mention or pressure Steve into choosing him. This team would make a go at HYDRA and he knew Steve was going to try to find Barnes. In the end, that was probably mostly what occupied Steve's thoughts more than anything.
He sighed and sipped at the whiskey he'd bought, not really caring for it but unwilling to waste it. The pub was loud, and he preferred the back room, flexing his fingers now and then and examining his nails as if looking for a change.
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Stepping through the door, he folded his arms and smiled, leaning against the wall. "So what do you think? Would you be willing to follow Captain America back into battle?"
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He looked up from soul-searching at the bottom of his tumbler and peered at Steve in the doorway. "Do I have to call you that? I prefer Captain Rogers," he said before tasting his whiskey. "I suppose following at your heels is better than going back to the 107 and climbing over allied corpses."
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"You could always keep calling me Steve," he said affectionately. "They said I could pick my own team to go after those HYDRA bases and find Bucky, Brock. I'd like you to be on it."
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"Steve, huh? Pretty sure I can only do that in private," he said with a cheeky grin. "Oh, and what skills do I have that you feel would be worth having on a specialized team?"
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He set his glass down and glanced at the poster of Captain America behind them. "You're keeping the uniform though, right?"
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Though those weren't the qualities that made Steve ask him to join up. As with the other Commandos, he had chosen him for the fact that they connected and he was sure they could work as a team. The rest of it was gravy.
He smiled, glancing back wryly at the poster. "You know, it's growing on me."
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"I'll join up if you want me," he said with a smirk. "Stark going to outfit us, or are we going back to regulation uniforms aside from you?"
He allowed his eyes to survey Steve in that nice officer's uniform and noted the location of the barkeep on the other end of the bar. He leaned closer to Steve. "Makes parts of me grow too," he said with a lewd grin. "Anyway, people respect the uniform."
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He flushed at Rumlow's lewd comment and smiled happily. His hand slipped under the table and rested on Rumlow's knee, then shifted upwards. "I guess I'd better stick with the stars and stripes, then, if you like it so much."
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He shifted his knee into Steve's grip, though there had not been any kind of opportune moment to see if they could have some time to themselves before deploying. Too many of those meetings with senior yes-men. "I think you should, though feel free to sleep out of it."
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Hmm, possibly another timeskip? Unless you want to smut first XD