Heartbeat (Completed)

Chapter: Eighteen

Bucky shifted, squinting as the sun peeked over the horizon. Any moment his fellow soldiers would open fire on the small group of Germans huddling on the south side of the small French village.

The town was quiet, as if everything had paused to take a breath. The morning was still - not even a whisper of a breeze snuck by to disturb the uneasy calm.

Jax was up in the belfry of the old church where he'd be able to do the most good. Patrick, Leigh and the twins were spread out over a small market like area where they would have plenty of cover, but also a clear field of vision. Henry and Stanley had hunkered down on the street that split off from the main market on the west side in case any enemy soldiers slipped through the main thorough fair, choosing a stone wall for their main defense. Spencer had done what Henry had, using a low wall to hide behind, but Bucky was more daring. He climbed up on the rooftop of a building and laid prone, staring down the streets with his keen eyesight.

The enemy troops were mere yards away from each of the US soldiers, but they had their orders. Bucky's finger itched to pull the trigger, to put the madness and the insanity behind him. But he held his breath and kept quiet instead.

They waited.

Bucky ate some rations.

He drank a bit of water from his canteen.

He stared down the street.

The darkness gradually lifted.

He noticed a quick scuffle from up ahead, but relaxed when Jax gave the signal that everything was alright. It must have been an enemy patrol.

The sky burst into color.

All was still. All was silent.

And then gunshots rang out.

Bucky shifted onto his elbows, quickly sighting a target and firing. The Germans were practically surrounded from all sides in a hail of gunfire. Jax and Bucky quickly took out the machine gun nests and made sure to silence any threat that could come back to haunt them. The side streets were mainly empty so Henry, Spencer, and Stanley all crept forward until they could engage from a better angle.

Bucky didn't think about what he was doing. He couldn't. Dwelling on the blood he was spilling would end him.

After a fierce two hours, the south side of the village was secure. Bucky sighed in relief. His hands ached and sweat was pouring off of him. Dirt and grime smudged his hands and clothes and mud had caked on his shoes and pants like a second skin.

Bucky made his way off the roof, landing beside Spencer with a heavy thud. Spencer glanced up at him, swinging his gun to face his commander until recognition calmed him down. Adrenaline was still rushing through Bucky as he pushed toward the center of the market.

The two made their way to the courtyard where a dozen enemy soldiers had surrendered and both squads had reunited. A small medic station had been set up to aid the few unlucky men that had been injured, and that was where Barnes headed first.

Stanley had a pretty nasty graze on his head, but he would be just fine. He bled a bit from it, but it wasn't enough to be alarming. A couple of other guys from Sergeant Mavis's squad were there, but only one of them would have to be shipped back for some proper medical treatment, so all in all they had very little casualties.

Barnes allowed himself to sigh in relief. They were lucky, of that he was certain.

~

Six months later

Bucky couldn't breathe. He stared around the empty, ghostly, bombed town. His heart ached, his lips were in a somber line, his eyes burned. He felt like the spirits of those who had lost their lives were speaking to him.