Steve had nothing but respect for most of the Europeans he came into contact with. They were strong people who had been through a lot, more than most of the Americans overseas. But the particular group who had joined them for this mission… Steve had gotten a negative impression of the assisting British squad from the very start. They clearly weren't HYDRA so Steve didn't have any valid reason to send them immediately packing, but he just knew things weren't going to end well. He turned out to be half right.

The mission had been a success. The HYDRA base had been destroyed and they'd even managed to get some information about another couple of others in the area they hadn't known about. The mood in their camp was good, but shortly after dinner Bucky had stepped away from them all. It had become the normal thing for him to do, to isolate himself for an hour or two after dinner. Steve hated letting Bucky out of his sight for that long and he was positive now that the serum had made him more possessive than the standard Dominant, but Bucky still came to him every night. Let Steve hold him and soothe him through the nightmares and order him back to sleep when necessary. So he would push down his possessiveness for long enough to let Bucky have the time he needed to himself.

Roy Donovan, the Englishman in charge of the other squad, had noticed Bucky's exit too and Steve half expected him to make a comment based on the expression on his face, but he didn't. That didn't help settle the unease rising in Steve's chest, but as their evening continued fairly normally Steve could only hope his instincts were wrong. He was in a debate with one of the other Englishmen about what counted as a pancake (Steve firmly believed the English version was not worthy of the title) and only noticed Donovan's exit out of the corner of his eye.

He had assumed the man was going to bed. He wouldn't be the first of the evening and pretty much all of the camp was winding down for the night at this point. He couldn't say what it was other than a gut feeling that made him get up about five minutes later and head in the same direction Donovan had gone. The tents had just given way to the edge of the clearing in which the camp had been established when Steve heard it.

Donovan talking over a high pitched whine, almost like an animal in pain. Except he knew it was Bucky making that noise. He bolted forward and his vision was nearly flooded with red at the sight that greeted him. Bucky was on his knees at Donovan's feet, left hand trapped under Donovan's shoe while the Englishman's hand was yanking so hard on Bucky's hair the brunet's whole body was straining upward to try and lessen the pull. Bucky was pale, shaking and almost gasping with tears on his cheeks. Donovan was spitting something obviously derogatory at him, but Steve couldn't hear what over the buzz in his ears.

Steve snapped Donovan's offending wrist in one smooth strike before he kicked the man back several feet with a snarl. He wasn't capable of words. The anger made any attempt at speech get lodged in his throat and come out as a growl. He put himself between Donovan and Bucky, every muscle in his body alight with the need to protect his sub. He made a conscious effort of focusing so he could understand what Donovan was saying.

"What is your problem?! He's just a dumb, poorly trained sub playing soldier. He doesn't deserve to be here." Donovan spat as he sat up and cradled his broken wrist to his chest.

Steve still couldn't form proper words, but luckily someone else spoke up for him. "If you think that then you don't understand in the slightest what it means to be a Dom." Dugan declared and Steve slowly became aware that the Howlies had all joined them, forming up protectively around Bucky and showing their support for Steve.

"Or what it means to be in the military, either, for that matter. Because Bucky is the best sergeant on the front lines and if you want to mess with him you will bring down the wrath of everyone in the 107th, on top of us Commandos." Morita added. Donovan actually looked slightly frightened as he looked at their faces.

Steve felt something brush against the back his pant leg and quickly looked down. Bucky had reached out with his uninjured hand to grasp at Steve's pants. He could barely make a fist and his whole body was trembling. Steve's rage flared brilliant red all over again, but this time it was tempered by the knowledge that his sub needed him, was pleading for him without words.

Steve didn't hesitate to scoop Bucky up into his arms and immediately his sub pressed his face into Steve's shoulder. Steve didn't think Bucky had ever trembled this hard, not even during their escape from Azzano, and he held Bucky as tightly as he dared. "I've got you, Buck." He promised softly.

Bucky's whimper was almost a sob and it wrenched at Steve's heart. Steve sent one last glare at Donovan and warned "There will be repercussions for this" before he walked away. He was more grateful than ever that he had his own tent (that he always shared with Bucky) as he gently lowered the brunet to the cot. Bucky clung to him desperately when Steve pulled back and Steve tried to gently shush him.

"Hush, I've got you. I'm not going anywhere." He swore quietly as he rubbed Bucky's back. The brunet's legs were wrapped tightly around him, Bucky's heels pressing into his back, and Steve ignored the slight twinge in his knees from the hard ground he was kneeling on.

"Promise?" Bucky whispered and Steve nodded.

"Promise. I'm yours and you're mine. To the end of the line, remember?" Steve reminded and Bucky nodded as his whole body shuddered. Even his inhale shook and that told Steve how close to crying Bucky really was. "Shh. I've got you, my good soldier." Steve practically purred and the emphasis on the endearment had an immediate effect.

Bucky slumped against him, almost nuzzled against his neck. "Am I really good?" Bucky finally whispered, almost whimpered, and Steve couldn't help tensing.

He pulled back to look at Bucky's face, despite a whine from the brunet. Bucky's face was totally serious, lost and confused and unsure and so very vulnerable. Steve immediately wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and the touch seemed to help ground Bucky. "Why are you asking that?" Steve finally questioned.

"He said…" Bucky faltered, but Steve already knew who his brunet was talking about. "I'm disobedient and cheeky. I only follow orders in the field and subs shouldn't be soldiers, let alone snipers. I don't deserve a rank, not meant for one or I wouldn't be a sub-"

Steve cut him off by kissing him. It was brief and chaste, but Steve set his forehead against Bucky's once he pulled back and they spent a moment breathing the same air. "Stop that. Right now. Those aren't your words, Bucky, and they aren't mine either. Did you forget who you belong to? Whose opinion really matters?"

"Of course not, sir, but…" Bucky started to object and Steve tugged the hair at the back of Bucky's head. His brunet gasped weakly and his eyes fluttered.

"There's no 'but'. You are mine, my good soldier. My incredible soldier." Steve loosened the grip he had in Bucky's hair and started combing his fingers through it instead. "How many lives have you saved, Bucky? How many times have you saved me alone with that rifle of yours? How many soldiers have you talked out of doing something dumb that would have gotten them killed? How many times have you given up rest, given up medical attention, given up food or blankets, just so that the rest of us don't suffer?" Bucky didn't say anything and Steve tugged on his hair again. "I want an answer, soldier."

"I don't know, sir." Bucky answered, and while he was still very clearly in a submissive headspace he sounded less shattered.

Steve made sure Bucky met his eyes before he spoke again. "It's a lot, Buck. More than anyone could ever expect of you. You're a good man and a good sergeant. No matter what anyone else tells you. Don't forget that." Steve insisted and Bucky nodded.

"I'll remember, sir." Bucky practically whispered and Steve smiled. He set his hand against Bucky's cheek and was briefly surprised when, unlike last time he'd touched Bucky like this, his hand was more than big enough to cradle Bucky's face. Bucky leaned into the touch, his expression much calmer.

"And I like your cheekiness. Always have." Steve added and Bucky actually cracked a small smile. He didn't say anything, though, as Steve ran his thumb over Bucky's cheekbone gently. "Alright. Let me see that hand." He insisted.

Bucky held up his left hand immediately and Steve looked it over carefully. There was a big patch of red on the back that was growing steadily closer to forming a bruise but for the most part, aside from some soreness while he healed, Bucky should have no trouble using his fingers. Steve flipped it over and carefully brushed away some of the dirt that had gotten into the shallow scratches on Bucky's palm. He was about to get up and get some water to rinse them properly when he noticed the faded mark on Bucky's wrist.

The sketch of his shield he'd drawn almost two weeks ago was barely visible, but it was still there. Bucky shivered when Steve traced the mark. "You didn't wash it off." He commented and Bucky immediately shook his head.

"Was from you, sir. Your claim on me. I couldn't… Didn't want to..." Bucky offered quietly and Steve suddenly couldn't swallow over the knot in his throat. The words he wanted to say lodged themselves in that knot too, so instead he gently placed a kiss on the mark.

"Let's get those cuts clean then I'll draw over it again. We wouldn't want it to fade away now, would we?" Steve asked warmly and Bucky immediately shook his head, a small smile playing on his own lips.

"No, sir." He agreed and Steve kissed his hand before he stood and led Bucky over to the wash basin by the grip he had on the brunet's wrist. Bucky followed without even the slightest hesitation and Steve couldn't help the rush of rage towards Donovan that reared its head once again because Bucky was HIS good soldier. And no one was allowed to harm something of his.