˚ ༘ 𝕿𝐖𝐎 𝕲𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒 彡
꒰‧⁺ ⇢ ❝ 𝒞𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝒮𝙴𝚅𝙴𝙽 ¡! ❞ ˊˎ
- ̗̀ ๑❪( ◌⁺ ˖˚ ಿ prisoner of war.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

𝕽𝑨𝒀𝑴𝑶𝑵𝑫 𝑹𝑬𝑳𝑬𝑨𝑺𝑬𝑫 𝑨 FEARFUL CRY AS HE DIVED FOR COVER, THE FRONT OF HIS BODY LANDING ON THE BLOWN-UP GROUND WITH A HARD THUD. His hands frantically searched for his gun which he had lost his grip on during the fall, grasping it in his muddied hands as shaky breaths escaped him.

He couldn't even pinpoint how long he had been in this battle against the Wehrmacht soldiers. Too long. Was the only form of answer he could come up with as pellets of dirt smacked harshly against his face due to the outrageous amount of hits they were enduring.

Fires had broken out, buildings aflame as soldiers scream and run for their lives . . . again.

Raymond stood alone. He had lost Bucky when the first building blew up, knocking them both off their feet and landing them in separated areas, running even further away from one another to survive the attack.

Gabe and Bucky had been right; the battle at Azzano was nasty, way worse than either party had expected. They were outnumbered once more, their guns half the size of their enemies' weapons. In the words of Lieutenant Morris; they fought savagely. It was transparently clear to Raymond that they planned on taking no prisoners.

The Fossum let out a short cry when he felt a body collide with his back, terror striking every particle in his body as he wriggled. It was the heavy, crushing weight of a human, but it didn't take long for Raymond to realise that it stayed still; motionless, . . . dead.

He grimaced as he hoisted the body off of him, on his knees now as he held his gun in a weak, shaky hand. His eyes were so focused on the dead body of a man he had seen strolling around the trenches once or twice that he didn't even notice someone approaching rapidly from behind him.

Raymond was tackled, his gun flying out of his hand as he rolled against another person. Their hands were tightly grasped onto his jacket, their eyes meeting as the Wehrmacht soldier snarled at him; baring his teeth like a savage animal. Saliva bubbled in his mouth, Raymond scowling as he fought the hold.

He managed to free a hand, swiftly punching his attacker in the jaw with enough force to knock his head to the side. Raymond used this moment of flaw to push the man off him, diving to hastily crawl over to his discarded gun.

A claw-like hand latched onto his leg, drawing him back. Raymond panicked when he felt the man beginning to clamber his way up to his body, hand outstretched for the gun also. He must've lost it during the fight, so getting someone else's was the only way he could have a stream of defence.

Not on Raymond Fossum's watch.

He acted on pure adrenaline. It felt like an out of body experience as he twisted his body and punched the man once more; hitting the front of his face and probably fracturing his nose a bit.

The hit sent him back; giving Raymond enough time to kick his legs free, grasp his gun in both hands, cocking and aiming it before he finally took a shot.

He didn't expect the bullet to lodge itself directly into the soldier's face but it did, red bursting at his face's seams as he wobbled. He blinked once - maybe twice - from the initial impact, eyes tied to his shooter as he went slack, the thud of his body not being heard over the noise of battle.

In any other circumstance, Raymond would've allowed the man some form of dignity but, then again, Raymond would not have shot the man at all if the circumstances were, indeed, different. Unfortunately, now was now; and Raymond had to run.

He scurried up to his feet, his retrieved gun now in both hands as he ducked and rolled onto the ground again and again. It was never-ending for the young soldier. A part of him begged this to be another nightmare; another dream where he would wake up in the warmth of his mother's homely arms. She would nearly always know what his dreams of terrors were about. Her words were as melodic as the tunes rich people would play on the weekends as she assured him that he was home; in his bed, in her arms, and away from the place in which her husband currently resided: a cemetery.

His ears hummed with the popping of gunshots as his blue eyes frantically scoured the battlefield. He was lucky to find a familiar face amongst the roaring crowd.

Bucky Barnes was standing tall, posture perfect for shooting as he fired multiple rounds at precise aim. He hardly missed; something which helped promote him to a sergeant role at such a young age. However, with all eyes up front . . . he couldn't see behind him.

Raymond's feet moved before his mind could. He raced across the hills and slopes, jumping over men on his side and even shoving men on the other. He had no time to load his gun and shoot his obstacles.

A Wehrmacht soldier lay crouched on the ground, hidden in almost plain, perfect sight as he raised his gun; directly pointed at the sergeant's back.

Raymond's heart felt heavy as he lunged forward, daring the risk of the man turning around and shooting him right in a crucial area. He was lucky, his body colliding with the soldier before they could react. They rolled onto the ground for a while, Raymond getting the dizzying sense of deja vu from his previous encounter when they fought for dominance once more.

Thinking rapidly, Raymond spun his gun around in his hands the way he would flip a pencil when bored in class back in his school days. He then drew it forward, the butt of the gun striking the man's skull; whacking him to the ground. Raymond had all fingers crossed that it would knock him unconscious, but he was wrong.

The man was bleeding from the head, one hand promptly trying to prevent the pouring blood as he barked out words in thick German - which Raymond couldn't understand. He saw fear; plain and simple fear in the man's dark eyes as he towered over him with his gun. The emotion made the Fossum boy falter, his hold on his gun lessening scarcely.

What happened next transpired in only a matter of seconds.

Seeing the weakened hold, the Wehrmacht soldier shouted one last statement as he leapt for his gun. His hand was just inches from it when Raymond unexpectedly spun his gun back around properly in his hand and fired yet another shot.

Raymond let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding onto as his heart punched his chest. His ears rang from the bullet fleeing his gun and penetrating the man's forehead, but Raymond had limited time to concentrate on the pain as a holler buzzed through the ringing noise.

"Raymond!" Bucky rushed towards him as fast as he could, grasping his forearm so he could check the boy over for any injuries. He was in no better shape than he was, but he wasn't any worse; that was all that mattered right now.

Raymond was doing the same, his eyes scanning the Barnes boy before he felt a rush of reassurance; glad him shooting a man wasn't for nothing.

"You're okay."
"You're okay."

Both boys said in relief, jerking when a grenade slammed particles of dirt their way; heeding another rush of screams.

Worried, Bucky turned back to his friend. "Come on! I saw Dugan and Jones close by not that long ago!" He shouted, not giving him any choice as he reached over to link their hands together; his friend willingly following his lead.

Soldiers fell all around them, buildings hitting and collapsing in on one another as Raymond spotted a ditch of sorts up ahead; seeing the faint silhouette of men lying low with their guns. It didn't take him long to realise the broad back belonged to none other than Dugan as he and Bucky jumped into the ditch.

A blast of fire blew not that far in front of them, causing Raymond and Bucky to hurriedly readjust their hard helmets lower as they turned on to lie on their backs; guns clutched tightly as they breathed heavily.

"There's gotta be at least five mortar companies out there!" Dum Dum said to the two men, shouting just to be heard despite being right next to them.

"Radio B company, tell them we need cover!" Bucky shouted in panic, he and his friend exchanging panicked looks.

"That might be tough!" Gabe Jones yelled back in response, the device that Raymond guessed to be a radio of sorts to their allies clutched near his chest. It appeared to have smoke emitting from its chambers; a sign that it was definitely broken and useless in this situation.

"Bucky! Raymond! Behind you!"

Both boys kicked into action as they aimed their guns and shot, but they didn't last long until the pieces of ground blew up and flew in the air from possible grenades. Raymond had just managed to raise his head back when he heard Bucky shout fearfully beside him. "Here they come!"

"I hate these guys." Dum Dum panted out when Bucky leaned forward to shoot some more, glaring at the enemies as he put his hat - which had fallen off during the explosion - back on.

"Yeah, well, I think the feeling is mutual." Raymond nodded in response to the older man, both soldiers joining Barnes in his attempts to stop the advancing enemy.

A group of Wehrmacht men were walking down a slope of sorts, guns raised and orders understood. Bucky, being probably one of the best sharpshooters they had, managed to shoot some down. Dugan also shot a man down, Raymond hearing his screech even from here. He rose to find his target to shoot, aiming at one of the men with his finger hovering over to take the shot . . . only for something to beat him to it.

It was fast, like lightning. Its blue hue came flying like a beacon of light, hitting the soldier Raymond had been aiming for and completely obliterating him. There was nobody, no remains of existence. The Fossum boy lowered his gun in shock. What was that?

No soldier - even the Wehrmacht - had time to react to the unnatural force as another wave came; this time taking more victims. It released a sound canon and engine-like, something Raymond had never heard mixed before. It was shooting blue flames as it burned the men to nothing.

The American soldiers had been fighting these men for god knows how long, losing comrades and getting hurt in the making. Yet this force; this inhuman, bizarre force . . . was able to wipe them all out in seconds.

"Please tell me whatever that thing is," Raymond huffed, eyes wide as they searched for any more blue beams of light flashing in the air. "That it's on our side."

Bucky seemed just as stunned as he was, getting up hesitantly with the others. His hand was set on Raymond's shoulder when he rose too, the pair gradually rising from the ditch as soldiers confusedly turned to one another.

"What the hell was that?"

Gabe, Dum Dum, Bucky, and Raymond were at the very front of the pack of lost soldiers. They took the first step forward, only to recoil when another blast came; disintegrating another two men.

Dugan chuckled nervously. "That looks . . . new."

A canon came out of the murky light, unnerving Raymond awfully as it clicked and whirred, rolling into action. His heart dropped in his chest when he saw the canon turn and aim their way, the sounds heightening powerfully.

Bucky grabbed onto Raymond swiftly. "Down!" He yelled to the men, directly shielding his best friend's body with his as the flashes of light could be seen even through the skin of their closed eyelids.

The screams Raymond heard over the firing shots had his guts twisting nauseatingly as his hands clutched onto Bucky's jacket, curling into it as a coping mechanism.

To tell you the truth, Raymond was waiting for the hit to come. He was waiting for the beam to hit him - possibly place him in excruciating pain - and exterminate him to the point of nothing with no body to even return to his family.

Be that as it may, the hit never came. Raymond peeked one eye open, seeing he was still in the pit they had taken cover in. He looked over at Bucky, body slacking when he saw he was okay also. That relief, sadly, didn't stay for long.

A battalion of HYDRA soldiers had overwhelmed them easily. They had everything on their side. Tanks, guns, grenades, all evidently powered by a weapon no man or human on that field could put a name to. All they knew, was that being on the receiving end of its blasts was far from fortunate.

About 200 men of the United States Army had marched into battle today, and one ray of light has cut them down to a disadvantage of numbers tremendously. Raymond's legs shook with fear. Are we next?

"Raymond, move!" He hears Dugan shout, snapping out of his mental anguish as Bucky clasped his hand once more and tugged them in the direction they were running to.

The mechanical sound of the tanks creaked behind them, making Raymond's eyes swell up with fear.

"What do we do?!" He heard Gabe call to his friends, lost and panicked as he held onto his helmet - not that it would offer much immunity against what they were up against.

"We gotta shoot them out!" Dugan said in response, the four of them dipping and diving in and out of ditches and trenches galore.

"We can't? A gun looks useless against that thing!" Raymond exclaimed back in response, waving his hand to the vast monster of a tank that none of them could even dream of having on their side. No tank of theirs was that large, even back home.

They dived down and crawled towards a ditch, hoping they could stay there for as long as they could while they devise a plan.

"No amount of bullets will take that thing down," Bucky states once they stop fleeing, huddling close to his friend as he agreed with him. "We're fully surrounded."

Raymond sulked. He knew what that meant in most situations: be killed or surrender. Both were awful, but the Fossum knew that he inclined towards the former rather than the torturous latter. "We can't win this fight, can we?" He eventually spoke, breathing in and out with deep breaths as his words hung over their heads like a falling anvil.

Dugan, who held the most authority out of all men, looked at them all solemnly. ". . . It was an honour knowing you men."

The three nodded back in reply, realising they all had come to the same unanimous decision. This was what they had to do.

"This is gonna hurt." Gabe winced, cringing at the idea of facing that nightmare of that tank.

Raymond bit his lip in answer, voice shivering as he asked. ". . . H - How much bullets do we all have left?"

With no time for hesitance and a plan in the making, all soldiers were quick to check. Dugan had none, as did Bucky. Gabe only had one left, and Raymond had two . . . leaving them with three bullets in total.

Bucky glimpsed at them all with a tired laugh. "Three bullets against an army of Nazi's. Great."

Raymond's gaze bore into the three shell cases, his heart battering in his chest. ". . . there - there is another way." They all gazed at him in confusion, the Fossum swallowing the lump he felt in his throat. "We don't all have to go back out there. W - We don't have to die at the hands of the enemy.

"There are only three bullets," Gabe informed him as if it wasn't evident, appearing stressed as his hand drove to his helmet. "It wouldn't - there's not enough."

"It's okay." Raymond nodded, voice surprisingly calm-sounding. "I - I'll go back."

"No." Bucky instantly said, his friend perking up from the ground as he shook his head again. "No, that's completely out of the question."

"You want to be blasted by that thing?" Raymond pointed to the tank that was flaming with unlimited ammo. It seemed to be charged with something; something, not even the greatest scientists could perhaps provide an answer for as it claimed more lives.

"No, and I don't want you to be either!" Bucky answered back, his eyes strongly carrying an intense, almost angered and frustrated gaze.

"You think I want to do it?" Raymond inquired, staring at him with unhappy eyes. Time was wearing thin, as was his composure. "I would rather have a bullet in my head any day than be on the receiving end of those monsters and that weapon, but either of you guys doing it is not something I can have on my conscience. I can't, and I won't."

"Boys!" Dugan scornfully intercepted the tensity between the pair before Bucky could even mull over his words. When neither confessed anything, the Corporal turned to Raymond; shaking his head. "That ain't happening, son. I admire your bravery, but we aren't quitters."

"If we go out, then we go out the same way: together," Bucky murmured, his blue eyes hesitantly confronting his best friend's once more as both held their breaths for a period of time.

Unfortunately, that moment was quick to be tarnished by an automated blast heading their way. All of the men shot into warfare, worry throbbing their bones as they sprinted away from their hiding places . . . and right into the enemies' hands.

"Stand down!" Men shouted like they were some barbarian critters ready to ambush. The last time Raymond checked, he and his friends weren't the ones with a turret aimed at them. "Drop your weapons."

"We left the shells back in the ditch." Gabe shrieked in fear, discovering their lack of piled ammo and need of shell casings in their hands.

Dugan blew out deeply, chest-puffing in and out. "Son of a bitch."

"Guns down!" The same man from before yelled, wilder and more announced this time.

Behind them, Raymond frowned when he saw other men following their orders; surrendering themselves and lowering their only defences. He felt his shoulders deflate, their crestfallen complexions now a painted picture in his memory. They lost.

Despite it being unloaded and pretty much useless, something in Raymond made him want to cling onto the weapon. Presumably because, generally, one sees a gun on your side as a defence of sorts. So, giving that up seemed like giving up the fight; which was what all four of them had to do as they dropped their weapons and were shoved into a huddle of now POW soldiers.

The experience of capture was humiliating. Many men felt ashamed at having been overwhelmed or forced to resign on the battlefield; as was Raymond, given that he had found a way out . . . and didn't seize it.

With more time to think about it, Raymond couldn't have told you whether he would've followed through with the notion or not. It was hard to tell, and Raymond didn't feel like mulling it over too much at this moment.

Men were herded into groups of prisoners, soldiers and tanks enveloping them as they barked orders; tones brutal as men quivered and sunk into themselves.

Raymond's crowd was pushed and shoved, forced to walk with HYDRA soldiers jabbing their sides with guns to get a move on. Most of them complied, but the number of men in a tight space caused some stumbles.

Raymond felt like a mouse compared to the towering heads and bundle of bodies that crushed and veiled his view of where they were headed. He couldn't tell you how far he wandered, only that he was tripping and staggering with every step.

He let out a tiny noise in the back of his throat when he was abruptly nudged too hard with a gun that made his back arch, his falter in steps earning him a shove from the pushed men as he misstepped and tumbled forwards.

He fell to the ground on his side, a stifled groan fleeing him. If only mother could see me now. That was what the boy thought as he gave attention to a small thump in the grass, inducing him to raise his head.

His father's compass lay pillowed against uncut land, staring at the young soldier as Raymond watched the arrow flicker and navigate its surroundings in the still wind. He found himself holding his breath at the item's presence. I wonder if father had a moment like this before he -

His hand reached out to collect the fallen item, unable to finalise his sentence and not wanting to think such a thought ever again, quite frankly. However, a combat boot came down on his hand, slamming his hand back down on the ground with a thud as Raymond yelled out.

A HYDRA soldier stood tall and delighted before him, his foot wielding his hand still as he bent his head, snarling words out to the young man. "No sudden movements, boy!"

"I - I wasn't doing anything." Raymond defended through dense breaths, the pressure on his hand increasing as he whimpered and squeezed his eyes shut. "It's a compass!"

"Shut up." The soldier bit back in response, stooping forward so more weight was put on the boy's hand. Any more pressure and a bone would surely break. "Get back in line."

Raymond sucked in a deep breath when his hand was released, the cold air hitting it as he got on his knees; sitting up in relief. Not wanting the eyes of the enemy on him specifically for much longer, he was quick to make another move to swipe up his compass. His wrist was instantly seized by tight-gripping fingers.

"Did you not hear me?" The guy's voice shook with disgust for Raymond, their loyalties clearly dividing them to the point of hatred as he nudged him back to the group of men; who were now watching fearfully. "Get back in line."

"It's a compass. It brings you no harm." Raymond clenched his jaw, shaking his head. He felt a panic prickle in his stomach from seeing his father's compass just lying there, within reach.

"I don't care." The man flatly acknowledges, hoisting his gun up. "Back in line. Now."

"Please," the words surprised Raymond when they slipped out of his mouth, lips quivering as he felt his hands fidget to ease the ongoing nerves. ". . . it's all I have."

The man of HYDRA eyed him carefully, humming promptly to himself before he ambled forwards. He halted when he was only inches from Raymond's face, his stench of dirt, mud, and blood making the Fossum's nostrils curl. "Back. In. Line."

Welled-up tears now shielded Raymond's blue eyes as his mind flashed back to his mother and Dennis, back when they waved him goodbye. His heart held pain. He wondered if they knew when they were waving goodbye, that they were not only waving goodbye to their son and brother for the last time . . . but also their husband and father.

The pain filled his veins like swallowed arsenic. It polluted him with all things bad, and reckless. Raising his fists, he crashed it into the side of the HYDRA soldier's face. He felt a pinch of satisfaction in the way he could feel more bone than the mush of skin against his hand during the assault.

Shouts in German were hollered as men dashed towards the scene, the prisoners watching with wide eyes from the move no one saw coming. They feared for the young man, but no one could feel fear on the same scale as James Barnes as he shoved through the crowd so he could see his friend.

By the time he got to the front, the attacked HYDRA soldier was already back on his feet. He spat blood onto the ground, Raymond feeling a twist in his gut when some of the saliva dyed red got on the side of his father's compass.

The man held his hands up, a sign for no one to open fire. Then, he cackled with no humour; only darkness. No one had any time to prepare as he unexpectedly swung his gun like a baseball bat; knocking the Fossum boy to the ground with a violent thud.

"Raymond!" Bucky yelled before he could stop himself, alert and worry etched on his features. Dugan gripped his shoulder promptly, holding him back as they watched the scene unfold.

Rubbing his head, Raymond winced as he strived to get on his feet. It was like a baby trying to balance itself. His head was spinning so much, but he managed to make out the blurry image of his father's compass still laying on the ground. He could only take one hunched step forward before a punch was accordingly delivered to the front of his face - near the forehead area.

The Fossum fell backwards, landing on his backside with a teeth-gritting noise. He sucked in a breath, eyes clamped tightly shut as the HYDRA soldier glared down at him. "Did I say you could get up? Stay down, and don't even think about getting that compass." He growled, rolling the sleeves of his jacket up in warning.

Raymond gave him a brief scowl before he dived for his father's compass once more.

An intense kick was sent to his side, knocking his lunge off and throwing him back onto his back. A foot then rested on his chest, pressing down. Hard.

Raymond fastened his hands around the leg and managed to wrestle the soldier to the ground. As soon as his body landed down with a sound that made the crowd wince for him, Raymond was scrambling up to his feet to get to the family compass once again.

His feet were yanked back and off the ground, causing his front to smack the dirt. He wheezed, croaking out a weak sound just as he was kicked again. The kick was then followed by a punch, one that left Raymond's nose smudged red. "Stay down!"

But he wouldn't listen. He wouldn't give up, not when the last possession of his father's that he could look at without feeling any profound sadness towards his passing was on the line.

Given that his body had already taken a few hits, he was weaker in his attempts to retrieve the item. His hands were shaking as they lay outreached, fingers twitching for the compass as tears produced in his eyes; most of his features oozing blood due to the hits he had put up with pretty much all over his body at this point.

Many soldiers on his side were instructing him to follow the orders, to stay down and just comply. They didn't understand though; no one would. It was more than a compass to Raymond; it was family.

He could recollect hearing Dugan and Jones shouting at him to comply, but Bucky's voice was the only one he took notice of.

"Raymond, stay down! Please, Ray, just please stay down!" Bucky implored, his own blue eyes engulfing with tears as he had to watch his friend get brutally beaten. Every flash of red he saw on his friend's face made his gut clench. He felt tremendous guilt at the fact that he had to just stay in the group and watch the attack. The other HYDRA men had their guns aimed directly at them, silently warning them that any move to help the boy wouldn't be wise on their end. Dum Dum and Gabe also made sure to keep close to him, willing to stop him if he even tried to make a move - which he had already done.

The Barnes swallowed thickly. He felt as though he was in bodily pain watching the scene, likely because of how drastic it was to when Steve Rogers would encounter your classic asshole who had a thing for swinging punches. Steve always had Bucky and Raymond covering his ass when things took a turn for the worse; always. If Steve was in an alley, you bet the two boys were sprinting right around the corner, ready to protect their friend and give the bully a taste of his own medicine. They would then help Steve up, perhaps shoot him a snarky comment, before they were escorting him to a place where he could just take a quick breather or apply something to a formed bruise or cut he had sustained. Problem solved. They would move on with their day, Bucky feeling assured that they had saved their skinny friend from another asshole before things got out of hand.

However, this wasn't a Brooklyn alley; this was war. This wasn't an asshole, this was a highly-trained, armed HYDRA soldier with plenty of back-ups. The young sergeant couldn't fall in and fetch his friend as they had always done for Steve, and it broke him into pieces.

Hearing Bucky's pleading cries made Raymond go slack on the ground. He was panting against the grass, the airborne mix of green leaf volatiles wafting into his crimson-painted nostrils. His eyes closed, his eyelids containing the bitter saltiness of his tears. I'm sorry, Dad.

A second HYDRA soldier then spoke to a man in German, Raymond careless with translating the conversation the two had as the man who had punched and beat him mercilessly strolled forward. "I should be putting a bullet right through your head as we speak!" He spat on the ground, clearly exhibiting his distaste towards the American. "But, with a hit like that, you'd make decent work when doing HYDRA's hard labour. So, I'm going to give you a choice."

His intrigue got the better of him, and Raymond lifted his head from the ground; the world swirling before it came into focus. The second his eyesight cleared, he wished he hadn't raised his head at all.

The soldier raised his gun towards a herd of captured men, their noises of panic making Raymond's bones rattle with a chilly breeze; who it was aimed at turning his body into a completely numb state.

"You can take the compass if you want, but one of your comrades must die." The Hydra soldier smirked devilishly, clicking the gun that currently was aimed directly at Bucky's forehead; causing Raymond to slowly get up until he was resting on his knees as he wheezed. "Leave the darn thing, and we'll put both of you men to work. How does that sound?"

Raymond knew his answer. He just had to spit some blood out before he could muster the words. "O -- Okay." He nodded, hands up in a surrendering motion as he sat still. He didn't even peek at his father's compass as he accepted the loss.

The HYDRA soldier beamed triumphantly, the look making Raymond more likely to throw up from that rather than the blood swirling in his mouth. He pulled his gun away, the Fossum only having time to puff out a tight breath of relief before the gun was aimed at him now. Time seemed to halt under the stare of the deadly barrel. "Alright then . . . destroy it."

Raymond swallowed a mouthful of blood. He would've almost gagged at the horrid taste had he not been so zoned out, numb of any feeling in his body as he gaped at the HYDRA man fearfully.

He didn't respond, probably too far in shock to even do so. His mind was miles away from catching up and getting him to react as the vile man trudged forward, cocking his head as he gave a sign to the compass with his gun. "Go on then."

Raymond's blood-stained lips parted gradually, his eyes starting to sting as he looked down at the compass and then back at the soldier. If plead was a colour, it would be the colour of Raymond Fossum's eyes as he brokenly whispered. "No. No, No . . . please."

A bullet was fired. Raymond trembled as a soldier who he had watched wandering through the trenches once or twice plunged to the ground, holding his calf in pain as he wailed. Men instantly bent down to his aid, aiming to help or console him; only to be met by barking orders to stand back up.

"Next time . . . I won't miss." The HYDRA soldier snarled down at him, clicking the gun into action once more. "Now . . . break it."

Raymond -- as staggered and as slow as it was -- managed to stand up. There was so much hurt, but no conflicting details laid in the heart of his eyes as he shakily picked up his father's compass in his muddied and bloodied hands.

It felt so small in Raymond's hands, a feeling straying far from the gun he had been holding up earlier. There was no burden to the item. It just laid in his palm contently, the arrow pointing its way home. Raymond tears up at the innocent action, his lips beginning to tremble.

He felt the same way he did back at Brooklyn when he was first leaving; unworthy of holding such an item that was sacred to his family. His mother had given it to him from the goodness in her heart, to have a piece of home with him on this journey.

If only Nancy Fossum could see her son now; defeated, bloodied, broken . . . and about to shatter her husband's treasured compass: the one she had fought so hard not to lose when men proposed they bury it with him.

Nancy wanted the compass kept in their home because that's what it symbolised. A compass is said to always lead you home and that's where it deserved to rest after so many years of being away from it.

Raymond broke out in a sob as his fingers wiped the blood off of the item. His shoulders shook, as did his breaths as he gazed down at the item; whole and undisturbed. If he looked close enough, he could still see the small dents and chips created from his father's care. He always kept it in the best condition he could though, chuckling when he would pull it from his little Raymond's tiny hands from when he was a baby; biting it thinking it was food.

"Ah ah, Ray-Ray. Dada's going to need that if he's to get back home to you and mummy safely."

With his smiling face and words clear in his mind, Raymond Fossum gasped on a sob, rose the compass, tossed it to the ground and brought his foot upon it.

His wails twisted painfully when he heard the crunching of glass, moving his foot as his eyes clenched shut. His combat boots were thick enough to not feel the broken glass on his skin, but he felt it all emotionally when he heard a snapping of plastic; signifying something else had been broken.

Raymond continued his destruction for a few more seconds before a hand roughly yanked him back, his foot lifting up from its victim. His heart shattered, matching the compass as its pieces laid scattered on the ground. The pointer arrow had broken off, now laying alone on the grass and Raymond sobbed when he saw where it was pointing.

It was still pointing in the direction of home.

"Good." The HYDRA soldier grunted, standing behind him. Raymond recoiled when he heard a gunshot go off right behind him, his ears buzzing and ringing from the sound. A bullet had now lodged itself into the rose of the compass, destroying it and rendering it unreadable. That in itself felt like a bullet to Raymond as he was then shoved back towards the group of captured men. "Now get back in line. No words."

Raymond leaned into his fellow men. Some gazed at him sympathetically, some gazed in disgust and anger for having someone shot over what was thought to be a plain old compass. The soldier couldn't face either of the looks, body thoroughly numb to his surroundings as tears soaked into his face.

I'm so sorry, Dad.

Dugan and Jones plucked him up gently and steered him over to their part of the now captured bundle. He didn't battle their hold, nor did he submit to it. He was like a children's toy being dragged and thrown around.

Bucky was by his side in a flash. He went to go hug his friend, but found he couldn't when the crowd moved once again; people getting between them as all four men became separated just as soon as they rejoiced. Raymond followed willingly, his eyes bloodshot from his weeping as the HYDRA soldiers crammed them into transport trucks. There would be little to no room for them, but it's not like HYDRA cared. If anything, they probably preferred it that way; jammed, uncomfortable in the dark as they were taken to an unknown location.

When Bucky was shoved in, he found his best friend tightly pushed against the corner of the vehicle. His cheek was pressed against the truck, seeming to cower in on himself as soldiers filled up space around him.

The Barnes had no problem in jabbing and shoving his way past the men, ducking under arms and steering past bodies until he was against the wall next to his friend. It was as tight a space as he thought it would be, but Bucky didn't mind as he let out a faded breath and wrapped his arms around his friend.

Raymond easily endorsed the hug, the first time he had acted on touch since breaking the compass. His arms were tight around his friend, his face stuffed in the nape of his neck as tears fell. Bucky didn't care, and Raymond understood he didn't. It wasn't the first time the two men had been each other's shoulder to cry on, and neither one of them were reluctant to do so when they needed it.

Right now . . . Raymond Fossum needed it more than anything.

"I'm so sorry, Ray," Bucky murmured shakily into his shoulder as he rubbed his hand over his back soothingly. He hadn't meant for his words to come out so quivery.

"I broke it." Raymond squeaked out, his voice was fresh and faint as he cried into his friend's shoulder. He heard the HYDRA shoulders exclaiming from the outside of the truck, most likely hauling more men into several vehicles as he shivered.

"It's okay, it's okay. Just breathe." Bucky told him as his hands wandered up to his hair and petted it calmly like he always had done since they were little. He wishes they were little again, back in Brooklyn running around innocently with no suspicion of attack or war.

"She loved that compass." Raymond shook his head to set the image of his mother looking over his damage, his cause of the compass's fate, free. "She trusted me with it."

"Raymond," Bucky said but he didn't finish. He didn't know what to say. He hated seeing him like this, and he hasn't ever seen him as bad as this. It was a whole new open wound to feel for James Barnes as he clutched onto his best friend tightly; the idea of letting go never crossing his mind once.

The truck suddenly jolted, and some men let out vulnerable cries. Others just remained senseless, emotionless as they stared at nothing. Some clutched onto items that probably held some figurative meaning. Raymond would've been doing that too at this moment . . . had he had his father's compass in hand and not be presently leaving its broken remains behind.

No man spoke to one another as they got transported. They don't know how long the journey will be, or if there even will be a destination to get to alive. All they knew, was that they were now prisoners of war with no one to save them.

Bucky turned his blue eyes away from the room and back to Raymond. Reaching down, he interlocked their hands. Raymond approved of the hold, squeezing his hand in a reaction as they stood together in the truck crammed with soldiers; hands intertwined as HYDRA drove them away.

: : ❛ 𝓐𝙐𝙏𝙃𝙊𝙍 𝓝𝙊𝙏𝙀 ❜ : :
╰───╮; well . . . that was wild.

i know the timeline in this fic is well messed up, but to be honest, the events of ww2 in captain america: the first avenger are kinda wonky in spacing and timing too for me. plus, i kind of screwed myself over with the idea of making raymond in the same infantry regiment as bucky ( or even in the war in general ) because you hardly know anything about what happened to bucky's unit before they were captured while steve is getting buffed up.

i, unfortunately, made a few errors. gabe jones was a member of the 92nd infantry division, and dum dum dugan was a member of the 69th infantry regiment. so sorry for that. please don't critique my bad timelines too harshly lol. it's a fanfic at the end of the day.

i know this chapter is a bit more dark compared to others, so i'm sorry for that. or maybe you guys preferred it, idk. let me know! love hearing what you guys have to say!

thanks for reading!
love you all!

∴ ✪ ❱ · TRGDYCOILS !! ━━━━
( 6.9k words )