FREE DAY!
Of course Steve had heard about the secret weapon code-named Rabbit. It was impossible to not hear about other secret weapons when one is also technically a secret weapon.
This was one of the few he got to meet.
He was used to techies referring to their weapons and vehicles as ‘she’ or ‘he’. He was not used to the pale wraith joining their team as “Rabbit’s chief technician”. He was the palest person Steve had ever seen, which made his black and blue-striped hair all the more startling.
The second thing Steve noticed was the harness he wore outside of his black jumpsuit.
Then his hands moved. “Most people stare at the hair,” said a mechanical voice from the technician’s right shoulder. “Blue Matter took my voice, so I made a new one for the people who can’t be bothered learning sign language. You can speak, by the way. I can hear.”
“Blue Matter?” he said. “Like the kind Colonel Walters Steam Man Band run on?”
“Run with,” said the techie. “Yes. Exactly like that.”
That was his first clue that the military minds behind winning the war were not entirely focussed on what was right for their more… special soldiers. But Steve, being an optimist, had imagined a more advanced model code-named after the Victorian-era copper automaton.
He didn’t actually see her until they were getting on the plane.
She wore loose-fitting paratrooper fatigues. One sleeve fitted with a zipper to make room for her Blue Matter gatling gun. Steve saw it all in that moment. The resigned walk, the thousand-yard stare, the necklace made out of paperclips and the fresh oil streaming slowly from her luminescent eyes.
She didn’t want to be part of this war.
“You’re making her jump out of planes?”
“Not me,” said her techie. Paul. His name was Walter Guy Paul.
Steve sat beside her, all the way to the drop zone. Keeping her company while the rest of the Howling Commandoes ignored her as if she were a piece of ordinance. Reminiscing, where he could, about her days on the stage.
He remembered her from world-of-tomorrow-today style exhibitions and one performance that was a present from his uncle. It was all he could talk about for months. Seven years old, and telling Bucky about every last detail from the Steam Powered Road Show.
“…wish I was b-b-b-b-b-b-back there, now,” sighed Rabbit.
Her stutter was miles worse than it had ever been. Steve shared a Look with Walter Guy Paul.
Steve’s look said, There’s something going wrong with her. She needs help.
Paul’s look said, I know. I can’t stop them long enough to fix her properly.
Which was why he held her hand - the only time he held a fellow Commando’s hand - when it was time to leave the plane.
Their parachutes - all of their parachutes - were army standard. They were not made to support the weight of a steam-powered, copper, clockwork automaton.
And hers… didn’t.
She fell faster than he did. Screamed all the way down. Shot wildly at the enemy and, when she hit… she hit harder. And had the dubious tactical advantage of scattering parts of herself over an area a ten-yard radius.
The plan changed in mid-air. The instant he realised what made Rabbit, the gentle, silly joker of the band such an excellent secret weapon. The United States Armed Forces was treating her like a shrapnel bomb.
Well. The Howling Commandoes were going to treat her like a soldier.
He did not, as the plan stated, immediately assault the enemy encampment. He took down everyone who was shooting at him and then ordered his men to establish a perimeter and gather Rabbit’s scattered parts.
“We ain’t got time for that!”
“Howling Commandoes never leave a man down!” He bellowed.
“That ain’t no man…”
“Then we don’t leave a lady down, neither,” He stood guard over her shattered torso and got out his Parade Ground Bellow. “NOW I GAVE YOU AN ORDER AND I NEVER GAVE IT TO HEAR MY TEETH CLICK! GET OUT THERE AND GET EVERY LAST NUT, BOLT, COG AND PINWHEEL YOU CAN SEE! I DON’T CARE IF YOU THINK ITS SHRAPNEL, WE GOT A SOLDIER DOWN AND WE’RE GONNA FIX HER! MOOVIT MOOVIT MOOVIT!”
Techie Paul landed last, but he’d definitely heard Steve.
The Japanese could have heard Steve. And they were on the other side of Russia from here.
“Wow. You g-g-g-g-g-got all that in one b-b-b-breath,” burbled Rabbit.
He knelt, still watchful and wary for the enemy. “At ease, soldier,” he soothed. “We’re gonna patch you up and then get moving.”
“Nev-nev-never walked home b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-before,” Rabbit sighed. “Some-somethin’ new…”
He took up her surviving hand in his own. Looked her in her mismatched eyes. “I’ll see what I can do about getting you some repair time. About getting you away from the war.”
“Won-won-won’t be mu-much,” said Rabbit. “We’re un-un-under c-c-c-c-c-contract.”
“Then I’ll see what I can do for you.”
Rabbit pulled herself up and kissed him.
Steve Rogers cleared his throat. “I have a girl back home,” he said, blushing.
"So do I,” Rabbit steamed a little. “It ain’t of-of-often folks t-t-t-t-treat me like folks. G-g-g-g-gotta be grateful y-y-y-y-ha know.”
He left her with Paul and promises that she would get back to a base that could help her ASAP.
And he didn’t see her again until well after the war. Years after his deep-freeze.
She’d lost the wigs he’d sent her. Or never got them. But at least they were letting her wear a dress. And she was back where she belonged… in the spotlight, and singing.
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