Behind Enemy Lines

People who say life moves in slow motion are bluffing. First Curt died and now she's desperately gathering her parachute and stuffing it away in a bush.

Bucky's plane had been hit, badly. She was put on his plane for today's mission for the flight nurse position, but it didn't end the way most would hope. His plane was going down, and fast. The sounds of him yelling at Y/N to jump out as soon as possible was all that flooded her mind. She saw the aircraft crash maybe ten minutes prior to where she is now. Bucky had told her that he would find her on the ground after she hesitated to jump without him. Though even before she flew out, she knew it would be nearly impossible to find him again, especially on enemy lines.

She was looking out around the open land that stood out beside the forest that she was trying to keep cover. She doesn't know where she is, where Bucky is, or where she should go.

The captain had offered her a leave after Curt's death, and she was wondering why she didn't take it. Now she was in German territory not knowing if she'll make it back home or join her best friend in peace.

Tossing anything that would weigh her down, she felt around her uniform ensuring she had the necessities. Water, granola bar, dropped her gun in the air: so much for staying safe. She groaned at the memory of her beloved weapon falling out of her pocket and through the sky. There was no way she would be getting that back. She felt around some more and smiled to herself when she pulled out a classic bowie knife that her father had gifted her from her side pocket. Perfect.

She looks over her surroundings once more before retreating into the forest, sprinting as quietly as she could through the dense trees and bushes. The thorns and branches scratch against her uniform and face, leaving small slices in her skin.

She decides to take a rest behind a tree, figuring she was far enough from her crash site. Keeping her ears open she listens attentively to the noises around her while she tries to establish where she will be going. I mean nowhere and everywhere at the same time.

Snap.

Y/N whips her head in the direction of where she had heard the noise. A twig snapping maybe? Man or animal. God, please let it just be an animal.

She slowly reaches into her jacket pocket, pulling out the bowie knife and taking it out from its sheathe and gripping it tightly in her dominant hand.

Peeking around the tree, Y/N sees a man, probably around 5'9 coming around the corner. He had his gun raised, clearly on edge, scanning the forest for any possible movement that may appear. No doubt he saw the girl falling from the sky.

She slowly creeps backwards, keeping her footsteps light with her eyes on the man. She didn't want to make any sudden jerks. It would cost her life if she got caught. Unbeknownst to her, he didn't come alone. She hears the cock of a gun behind her, making her freeze in her tracks.

(Italics = German)

"I've got her! She's over here!", the man yells to his buddy. He grips on her shoulder and harshly turns her around, pressing her up against a tree. "Don't think for a second your little nurse badge will save you", he spat, pushing her forehead back with the barrel of his shotgun, the cool metal rising panic within the girl.

Jaw clenched she responds to the man, "You'll never win."

The man raises his eyebrows as the girl he had captured responds to him in his native language. "Oh, yeah? Well, it seems like I'm winning right now, doesn't it?"

Y/N had to make a split-second decision. She was in a life-or-death situation, and she was on the losing side. Weighing out her options, the one phrase that keeps being repeated in her head is 'It's either you or him'.

Tightening her grip around the knife the captor has yet to notice, she swings at the man's throat, slitting it open. Blood sputtered out from the gash, flowing out at an inhumanly rate as it splattered over her face and clothes. The warm, dark crimson liquid now becoming a prominent feature of her destressed state.

Dropping his gun, the German was quick to wrap his hands over his slit throat to apply as much pressure as he could in attempt to save his own life. He soon fell to his knees, a look of anger that stared daggers into her skin. She stumbled back, realizing what she had done but took a deep breath and recalled why she had done it. Once he fell to the ground, Y/N leaned down to check his pulse, ensuring he was dead before making it a personal mission to find his buddy. She was high on adrenaline, and she was going to use it in her favour.

She opted to hide behind a bush, not far from the freshly dead body. Hearing his footsteps crunch against the fallen leaves she awaits until he is numbed by the sight of the man on the floor.

She lurks up behind him, quickly covering his mouth with one of her hands and stabbing the side of his neck with her other. He scratches at her arms creating gashes, making her yell out in agony. The feeling of her flesh being torn off while the man struggles against her hold was not pleasant.

"German scum", she seethes in his ear before flicking the knife outwards, cutting open his jugular vein. The blood came out of him quicker than the last as he fell swiftly to the ground.

Breathing heavy and eyes wide she wipes off the knife on her pants. She notices the fresh scratch marks of peeled back skin were beginning to bleed. Casting a dark red waterfall to cascade down her arm and seep into her uniform. Thankfully, it looked worse than it actually was, and considering her medical equipment had gone down with the plane, she decided to leave it be.

Out of breath, she looks down, grimacing at her gore-covered hands. Blood stains in the crevice's of her knuckles and under her fingernails. She puts her knife away and tries to wipe of her hands on her uniform as well.

Kill or be killed

She exhales before moving her eyes to the scenery before her. Observing the forest around, she tries to find some sort of landmark or source of direction. Discovering nothing she proceeds on her trek through German territory, walking along a makeshift path her mind had created for her so she would not go in circles.

Before she has a chance to react, the butt of a gun was smashed to the side of her head. Knocked to the ground, Y/N spits the blood out of her mouth, accumulated from the blow she had taken. Propping herself on her hands and knees she coughs and turns to face her attacker, squinting her eyes in his direction.

The man kicks her side, pushing her over onto her back as his boot comes back down and presses firmly against her chest to keep her in place.

"American?", he asks in a thick German accent.

"What do you think?"

"Smart mouth", he retaliates before pressing his foot down harder over her lungs, causing the girl to cough as her airways became tighter.

"Get off of me", she demands.

"And what's a girl gonna do to me?, he taunts her. "I'm sure we've already killed your friends. I mean what power do they have on foreign land."

"Shut your mouth."

"Or what? You'll cry?", he grins, letting off a bit of pressure from her chest.

That was the escape she needed. Briskly shoving her hand into her pocket, she brings her knife back out, stabbing the man's ankle, the knife penetrating through the layers of skin. The grin had been wiped of his face as he retracted his leg and stumbled backwards.

He tripped over a log and fell on his back, knocking the wind out of himself while Y/N stood up. She walked over to him and got on top of him, straddling his torso. The look of fear flashed through the man eyes whilst he tried to get the woman off of him.

The girl grabbed the collar of his shirt and slammed his head against the ground. She then kept one hand at his neck the second her fist came into contact with his face. And not just once either.

It was punch, after punch, after punch.

The sound of her bloodied knuckles coming into contact with his injured face was constant. She beat him up for Curt, for Buck, for losing Bucky, and most of all for getting her into this situation. She just couldn't stop all the while tears poured from her eyes out of anger and hurt.

Whack, Whack, Whack

The man under her had called out, presumably to his friends. The reinforcements had run over soon after. Another man raising a club behind her and whipping it against her head. She was stunned for a moment before her vision became blurry and everything went black, her body collapsing on top of the distressed German.

.ೃ࿔ ✈ *:･ ᯓ ✈︎ ⋆°•☁︎ .ೃ࿔ ✈ *:･ ᯓ ✈︎ ⋆°•☁︎

Eyes fluttering open then quickly shutting due to the bright light coming through the barred window, Y/N groans from the aching headache coursing through her head. She lifts her hand up, cradling her head to make an effort in soothing it. The scab that had formed over the healing wound was rough on her fingertips and a pain to touch. Remembering what had happened, she jolted up, backing into the furthest corner of the cell.

She examines herself, looking over the scratches on her arm, bruised knuckles and clothes ripped more than before. Her body ached and was begging for some sort of relief, for more rest.

Unconscious for how long? She had no idea.

Taking deep breathes, she takes a closer look at the room, hoping to find a way out. There were markings on the walls from previous men who were captured and a small window there was no way of getting out of. Sighing, she rubs her eyes, yearning the day she'd see her friends again.

The cell was made fully of cement, sending shivers down her spine as the cold began to seep through her veins. She stood up warily and moved to the writing that was scratched into the walls. She ran her fingers over the words that had been scratched out, the rough surface creating a tingling feeling on her fingertips. She wondered what had happened to whoever wrote the sentences, if her friends had been in the same situation she is in right now.

Her thoughts were cut short from the loud scraping sound of the metal door on the concrete floor. Seeing the German soldier, she moves back into her corner, to which makes him smile.

"Glad you're awake. You were out for 2 days."

She doesn't respond, only staring at him as the corner feels like it is closing in on her.

"Tell me you're happy to see me too darling."

"How about you tell me what you're here for then leave."

"Watch your attitude", he hissed. Walking up to her and grabbing her arm making her wince. He dragged her out of the room towards another door. Opening it up, he throws her inside where she falls to the floor, and he slams the door closed behind her.

Rubbing her arm where the soldier had handled her, she looks in front of her. There sits a man, presumably the "headmaster" of the building. Y/N pushes herself back up, dusting off her uniform and cursing internally when she sees one of the scratch marks on her arm had re opened.

He smiles, and motions to the chair at the other side of his desk, "Please, sit."

Keeping her guard up, the nurse walks over to the chair and does what she is told, sitting down in the leather chair. To her left was a framed photo of Hitler, displayed loud and proud, being one of the main forms of decoration. Her face scrunches in disgust.

The man sitting with her pulls out a pack of cigarettes, offering her one. She shakes her head no and pushes them away.

"I thought you smoked", the man remarks.

"Only on special occasions", she replies back, matching his monotone voice.

"Is this not one?"

"I wouldn't call this special."

He nods and stashes the box in the top left drawer of his desk. He opens a file flipping the pages. No doubt it was Y/N's, she crosses her arms over her chest and leans back in her chair.

"So, tell me, Y/N. What do you like to do for fun?"

"What good does that give you?"

"Just trying to get to know you is all. You know you can trust me, right?"

She scoffs. "You're funny", she says, calling his bluff. "We most certainly are not friends, sir."

He moves off the topic. Oh, how much she just wanted to smack the calm attitude out of him. Made him seem so full of himself. The way he held himself high, and would no doubt bend over backwards for the man who is leading their country to war.

"I've talked to some of your friends already. Not your parents though. Do they know you're here?", he flips through the pages again. "I take it you're close with John Egan, and Gale Cleven, correct?"

Her eyebrows raise in interest. Buck and Bucky had been here. They're still alive. A spark of hope was re-ignited in Y/N again.

"Oh! And how could I forget, Curtis Biddick. How unfortunate of what happened to him. I am truly sorry for your loss."

Clenching her fists, she tilts her head to the side, nails denting the skin of her palms at the mention of her dead friend. "Why don't you keep his name out of your mouth", she spat.

"Hit a nerve, did I?"

"You are the ones who killed him are you not?", she retorts biting down on the inner part of her cheek in attempt to silence herself.

The man brushes her off, putting out his cigarette and closes the file. "Okay, so, I need information from you, and I do hope you comply."

Y/n looks to the other side of the room as the man keeps his eyes on her.

"Y/N, please. All you need to do is tell me where you plan on hitting next."

Silence filled the room. A rather awkward silence. He could already tell that he would not be able to pry much out of her. She was just like her friends: loyal and would stand their ground through everything.

"Take her away", he finalizes.

She gets picked up once again and brought out of the official's office. Only this time it wasn't to her cell. They walked straight past the metal door and through the double doors at the end of the hallway. Sun beaming down on the pair, she shields her eyes with her hand.

Where was she?

She's thrown into the back of a truck and locked in on all sides. The soldier who brought her here, hopped into the front, driving them away, glancing at her from time to time through the rear-view mirror. Trying to find any sort of recognizability, she frantically scans her surroundings moving past her at 80km/h. All German, all strangers.

The truck comes to a sudden halt, throwing Y/N forward into the seat in front of her. The driver gets out quickly, pulling Y/N out with him. Noticing a line of American soldiers, she gets thrown into it. They were loading everyone into a train. But to where?

She was a bit more at ease with the men who surrounded her, she walks alongside with them. They were all in the same boat. Germans, yelling at them left and right to quicken their pace, each helping one another to move as quickly as possible to their transporter in hopes not to cause any problems. Because when problems occur, dead bodies appear.

Y/N was one of the last ones, gratefully taking the hand of a man who urged her to find a spot to stand as soon as she got in the train cart. Sitting down on an unoccupied seat, she looks over her hands, flexing her fingers to feel some sort of pain. She wished this all would be a dream but knew in reality there was no getting out of the rabbit hole she had fallen down.