There's a saying - the more things change, the more they stay the same. America didn't exactly hold up to that adage, but Europe sure as hell did. The landscape of the countryside is different, but there are still places that don't get cell service, or have any vehicles made after 1970. But there's some gaps, too. Little places that were blitzed right off the map, that never were rebuilt after the War.
Every once in a while, there's a memorial. At Oradour-sur-Glane. Kursk. But there's one place he knows he won't find anything, and that's a bare stretch of land between Kitzbühel and Klagenfurt. In 1943, it was a few dozen miles behind enemy lines. Schmidt's original facility. The birthplace of the Winter Soldier. Zola did something to Bucky here, because without it he never would have survived that fall in the Alps. There's not much left of it. A pile of old rubble, and a few half-hearted attempts at clearing it away. The effort was abandoned after the war, but Steve is nothing if not determined. He spends a week clearing rocks and wreckage, looking for a way in. Some gizmo of Natasha's tells him there's an open space about fifteen feet straight down through solid rock, all he's gotta do is get there.
The work's strenuous, but the strain barely registers. He doesn't think about much, just lets his body work, and his mind mimic still water. He's thinking about baseball, of all things, when he hears something in the distance. It's barely within the realm of his hearing, some sort of engine? Arc reactor. His first thought isn't Stark, it's enemy, and he grabs his shield and turns to face the noise. No point hiding.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2014-04-26 01:58 am (UTC)Every once in a while, there's a memorial. At Oradour-sur-Glane. Kursk. But there's one place he knows he won't find anything, and that's a bare stretch of land between Kitzbühel and Klagenfurt. In 1943, it was a few dozen miles behind enemy lines. Schmidt's original facility. The birthplace of the Winter Soldier. Zola did something to Bucky here, because without it he never would have survived that fall in the Alps. There's not much left of it. A pile of old rubble, and a few half-hearted attempts at clearing it away. The effort was abandoned after the war, but Steve is nothing if not determined. He spends a week clearing rocks and wreckage, looking for a way in. Some gizmo of Natasha's tells him there's an open space about fifteen feet straight down through solid rock, all he's gotta do is get there.
The work's strenuous, but the strain barely registers. He doesn't think about much, just lets his body work, and his mind mimic still water. He's thinking about baseball, of all things, when he hears something in the distance. It's barely within the realm of his hearing, some sort of engine? Arc reactor. His first thought isn't Stark, it's enemy, and he grabs his shield and turns to face the noise. No point hiding.
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