Steve Rogers went back to the past to reconnect with his true love, Peggy Carter. That's what everyone in 2023 thought. The truth is he went back to right a wrong, several of them in fact. He went back to save his friend, James Buchanan "Bucky" B...
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Content warning: Graphic description of a physical struggle with a wolf resulting in death. Further description of actions necessary for survival may be difficult to read.
He woke with a start, aware of several things; he hurt everywhere, he was cold as hell, and the brightness of the snow was too much to bear. Closing his eyes to deal with that Bucky breathed then opened his eyes again and looked up at the wall of mountain that surrounded him. There was the sound of water rushing nearby but when he tried to turn his head to see where it was the pain made him cry out.
"Fuck!"
He tried to move his legs, but they didn't respond, even though he could feel them. Then he tried to raise his right arm, managing only an inch or two before the pain was too much to deal with. There was no response from his left arm at all, no feeling of any kind below his elbow. Slowly, he turned his head to look at his left arm, far enough until he could bear the pain then continuing on trying after several torturous breaths to bring his arm into view. When he saw the red stained snow, he stopped and put his head back. It was bad, really bad.
Above him the snow swirled lazily, as the wind gusts blew the light snowfall around. He tried to see the railway tracks but everything up there was blurry, and he gave up trying to estimate how far he fell. Then he remembered being blown out the side of the train, and falling, while hitting rocky outcrops, hearing his bones crack, then break as he tried and failed to grasp anything he could hold on onto. It could be worse.
"No, this is pretty bad," he thought to himself. "You'll come for me, Steven, won't you?"
Eventually, he passed out then woke up when an explosion sound reverberated off of the mountains. He could feel the vibrations of the echoes in his chest, but he had no way of determining what made the noise or where it originated from. Taking stock of himself he tried to raise his head, then his arms but it still hurt like hell. This time he was able to see his left arm, or what was left of it. The bleeding had stopped but he could see the bone sticking out and stifled a sob that came out of his throat. He'd really done it this time. Aware of hot tears dripping down his face and freezing on his skin he talked to himself, trying to stop crying. Eventually, he got control of his emotions and took still painful but deep breaths, then looked up at the sky. It was dimmer down here in the shadows and colder. But far above, where the peaks of the mountains were still visible, he could see the sun lighting up the snow caps of the Austrian Alps. It was still day, and he was still alive. If they were on their way for him all he had to do was stay that way.
It was night when he woke again and the quarter moon was high overhead, its glow still bright enough to make the snow around him gleam in the dark. He was so cold and tried to clench his fist on his right hand, trying to gauge whether he still had feeling in his fingers. It was numb and the movement of trying to make a fist was difficult as he couldn't really feel his fingers other than a sense of pressure as he clenched them. Wiggling his toes was painful but at least that indicated he still had feeling there. Then he looked to the side with his head, noting it wasn't as hard now, but was startled to see eyes watching him. Blinking his own eyes several times he tried to focus on whether it was a person or an animal, but he couldn't tell. All he could see was the eyes. Then the eyes drew closer, and he reached with his numb hand for his pistol, hoping it was still in his holster, suddenly remembering that he had thrown it away as he had emptied it against the HYDRA soldiers on the train.
