Stuck in the Middle with You

October 23rd 1942

Stuck in the Middle with You

My second ww2 era Pertemis fic, only this one is mortal au. Basically I saw the Call of Duty Vanguard campaign and one of the characters, a Russian sniper lady, kinda looks like Artemis in the trailer. That got me thinking and I really like the idea of Russki Artemis, idk it's just cute even if I hate communism. So here's a MarinePercy x RusskiArtemis at the end of WW2.

Also there'll be a lot of German dialogue but it'll be explained what was said afterwards. It'll switch to English later even though canonically it'd be German.

Credit to Ivanessence for the custom RusskiArtemis cover art.

Stuck in the Middle with You

October 23rd 1942

Stalingrad, USSR

A shell shocked young woman sat shivering behind a brick wall, surrounded by thin wooden walls shredded with cracks and holes. The sound of gunfire and bombs were typical ambience to her once peaceful home. She could hear gunfire that wasn't as far away as the other's, and it seemed rather close to her.

Scared to peek, Artemis shuffled on her ass across the small room to one of the many cracks in the wall. Upon reaching it she had to quietly push aside a chunk of wood still in the way before carefully pulling herself through lest she impale her knee on one of the sharp pieces of wood in the crack.

Once through she was left in an attic with barely any roof left to it. Wood framing surrounded her and only to her back was there any roof plates. Without any cover to the street direction she was forced to stay down low, crawling as best she could on her stomach, her legs idle as she relied entirely on her arms to pull her forward one at a time.

She was afraid to peek over the edge, afraid a Fascist would be down on the street or in another building aiming at her, waiting for her to peek. Knowing what would happen if she returned from this post without a single German killed, Artemis gulped and gripped her rifle tighter.

She took her Red Star hat off, hoping that the dirt and ash on her skin would make her all the more harder to see. Then she realised she had auburn hair, so she merely turned the hat around and placed it back on, that way the star was facing away from the street - though the long back of the hat meant she wore it 45 degrees backward.

With only one eye peeking around the wall she checked down the street for anyone. There they were. Only four of them from what she could tell - grey trench coats, black helmets, no visible armband but who else in Stalingrad would be wearing that attire.

Once she saw them she dipped back around the wall, panting. She didn't want to be here. She did not want to fight, to crawl around the homes of dead neighbors and shoot unsuspecting soldiers before booking it. Her mother and father had been killed in the bombings, and her brother had been given a rifle and told that if he took a step back then they would shoot him. Her younger sister relayed messages at the local Red Army camp.

"-To satisfy women's desires to take up arms and defend their motherland." Those had been the words of comrade Stalin months before when women had started being conscripted. Before it had been volunteers only, because the general woman had to take care of the family while the brave Russian man fought the Germans off. In the Spring of that year comrade Stalin had made that announcement and Artemis was pushed into service, as she had no family to care for and no husband to fight for her.

While it had officially been for moral purposes, Artemis knew why she and so many other women had been drafted. They were losing. Anyone who lived west of Moscow knew that. It seemed as though not a single Russian remained in Stalingrad save for those hiding in the camps. All she saw day and night as she hid in these buildings were Germans and occasionally a Soviet footsoldier being ravaged by Fascist hailfire.

Politics and charts couldn't worry her. They weren't legally allowed to worry her. All comrade Stalin had permitted her and the millions of Red Army soldiers to do was to pick up a gun and fight. As Artemis peeked out once more tightly gripping the rifle, looking at the empty street, German squadron and ruined city, she found herself agreeing with the great leader for the first time in her life.

Artemis shuffled around to a spot that lined her up with the soldiers. She checked her rifle, making sure it wasn't frozen or jammed before she crawled into view. No use being in the line of fire if she couldn't do the same.

After taking a few deep breaths she opened her eyes and used her hands to propel her forwards, her chipped fingernails scratching against planked floors. She swung the rifle over and rested it in front of her, standing it up and pressing the butt against her shoulder.

Looking down the scope, she found her first target. The one in the back, a young blonde boy who was the only one with his gun raised prepared for anything. Almost faster than her brain could process it she pulled the trigger, somehow surprising herself. Crack

Through the scope she could see the boy's head snap back and blood spray like his neck had just been severed from the force. Regaining awareness Artemis realised she needed to do this fast. She zoomed to the next man, who looked a bit older with a bit of black stubble. Crack

The Wehrmacht soldier seemed to do a sideways somersault as she clipped him in the shoulder, landed on the ground face first with blood pooling, melting the surrounding snow. The next soldier was also blonde and had no helmet, but he was looking around at the windows for a sniper. Too bad she wasn't at a window. Crack

He was shot in the heart, dropping his rifle and falling to his knees clutching his heart like an overdramatic stage performer. The last soldier, who had barely even raised his rifle, realised he was alone and, believing there were multiple snipers with how fast the bullets were and how accurate, he ran.

The corner of Artemis' lips rose as she watched the pitiful Fascist sprint for his life, a rifle dangling around his neck from it's sling. He kept looking back as though he were checking for a Russian horde to be chasing him. Idiot, it just slowed him down. Crack

The bullet didn't even lodge in his body, just went clean through the side of his neck. Well, not clean. He bled more than the others by far.

Artemis sighed as she found herself with one bullet left in that clip. She'd have to note that down in her mind. She crawled away from the edge as fast as she could, needing to get to safety lest a German sniper in the area sought to avenge his own comrades.

Artemis crawled back into the small room in the attic. She couldn't stay here. The trap had already been strung and now four German corpses lay in the street where any Wehrmacht division could see them contrast the bright white snow. What with it only being the seventh hour out here, she couldn't even return to camp yet. She was only afforded five hours of rest a day, if she went back now she'd be out here for a whole twenty four hours the next day.

Wanting to cry in frustration Artemis fixed the hat that presented her as a Russki, before pulling it down over her eyes with gloved hands. She had to move but she couldn't. She didn't want to. She was scared. What if she herself was the victim of a sniper? Gone in a flash just like those boys, those horrible, vicious, Fascist boys. Would that be better?

Shaking, trying to hold tears back despite no one here to embarrass her, Artemis was frozen in fear. When will the war be over? She asked herself, asked god, anyone who would listen really.

Will upload more when the reviews come through lol.