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Everett turned her wooden plane into a slight dive, ducking under the German aircraft who was aiming straight in front of her. She had just watched Maria’s plane explode into flames, and was now dodging the debris. But now was not time to mourn her lost squadron, she had a bomb to drop.

The pilot cut off the engine as she gripped the control stick, glancing at the height gauge as the numbers dropped. “Clare? You alright back there?” The harsh night wind froze her cheeks as the G force increased. “Clare! What are we at?” No answer. “Clare!” Something was definitely wrong.

Everett gulped, she’d never done a dive before without elevation and the ground was coming in fast. She tightened her hold on the control stick and grimaced, suddenly pulling the stick toward herself as hard as she could. A quick prayer was sent to whoever was up above that the wooden wings of her plane wouldn’t break. The plane steadied under Everett’s guidance and with a deep breath she reached over to switch red toggle upwards. The bomb was dropped.

The plane leveled out and Everett breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn’t checked if the weapon hit its target as more incoming Nazi planes appeared right behind her. The heat from the explosion told her she had hit her mark and a small smile came upon her face. It was short lived as Everett heard the Nazi’s weapons whiz past. She started the engine up and began her rotations that had been practiced for days on end, hoping that by some miracle her plane wouldn’t be hit. But some defense was needed for her to get out of this alive.

“Clare!” Everett yelled again, her voice raw from the wind and desperation. She feared the worst. And in the moment, it would be extremely helpful to have a gun and a navigator to defend their plane. Everett risked a glance back to her partner and her heart dropped. Clare met her with blank eyes. She hadn’t dodged the debris after all, for a piece of metal had lodged itself in her friend’s chest. Clare’s loosened strap was the only thing keeping her upright with the sharp turns. Tears pricked the pilot's eyes, filling up her goggles.

She turned forward bracing herself and gripped the control stick once again to attempt to maneuver the rickety aircraft around the Nazi’s attacks. But of course she knew it was no good.

Everett took the plane lower, cutting off the engine again, and skimmed the tree line just as the left wing caught fire. This was it. She unbuckled her seatbelt and reached over to Clare’s body, ripping off the necklaces around her neck. Everett gave one last look at her dear friend before jumping out. The pilot fell from the sky without a parachute, watching both her partner and plane turn to a ball of fire disappearing behind the evergreens.

She descended fast in the air, barely remembering the safety briefings on how to land from heights. Legs together, knees bent, arms over head. A hard shock rippled through her body and a few seconds later sharp pain in her feet and spine joined. Everett groaned and rolled over on the ground squeezing her eyes shut in an attempt to ignore the pain. But she only saw Clare’s unmoving crystal sockets frozen in her last moments. Everett opened her green eyes, extra thankful for the feet of snow which not only cushioned her fall but outlined her body amongst the forest of white.

The adrenaline wore off as she laid in the quiet trying to regulate her breathing. She watched her breath appear in the cold air. Her body throbbed, the sharp pain remaining only in her feet and knees. Despite the warning signs going off in her mind, Everett spotted no enemy planes in the dark skies searching, so she let her guard down sinking deeper into the snow.

Slowly, testing her limbs, the goggles were tossed onto the ground. Finally deep sobs shook her chest as she finally registered what the past hour had entailed. She didn’t know how long she stayed in that position. Her tears, now free from the constraints of goggles, froze on Everett’s cheeks.

Sudden clarity flooded her mind and she sat up in the snow as a light flurry began. Clare’s necklaces she still held in her hand were joined by a compass from her left breast pocket and a photograph of her family taken almost a year ago, last Christmas.

A new smile and purpose to push on set Everett on her shaky feet. Every step sent shooting pain up through her legs. She bit the side of her mouth muttering some words her mother would have scolded her for, and put one foot in front of the other.

The moon was full providing little light for her to navigate under the stars. Everett squinted upwards trying to see through the thick trees above as she started west toward what she hoped was the Allied occupied territory. She was going to have some words with her commander back at the station if the map displayed so proudly on the wall was wrong.

The young woman checked the compass constantly, not only to determine her direction but as a distraction. Dark thoughts threatened to consume her mind but Everett focused on reminiscing on the good memories to pass the time. She closed her eyes briefly to feel the night breeze across her face, imagining she was coasting in the sky by home before the war started. Before family and friends had passed.

The analog watch still sturdy on her wrist showed 4 hours had gone by while she trudged west through excruciating pain. It was barely midnight according to the American watch but felt like the early hours of the morning. By now Everett was practically dragging her feet every step of the way through the snow, feeling blisters form on her already damaged heels. The cold settled in on her exposed hands and locked her hurting knees.

She couldn’t have made more than a couple miles, but when she cried out stumbling over an obvious tree root, Everett let herself admit rest was needed. That very root was where she laid her head to sleep, using the little warmth of her bomber jacket as a blanket. Although it was the least comfortable place Everett had ever been, the sounds of the forest and the weight of the days events quickly lulled her to sleep, hoping she would survive till morning

…

She was being picked up by a pair of arms. Survival instinct kicked in forcing Everett’s eyes open to an American insignia on a brown jacket as she was pulled against a warm chest. Instantly her body relaxed, forcing it to quit and return to slumber. Everett snuggled into the quiet rumble of the man’s chest as he spoke softly to another, trusting the security of his strong arms.

…

The pilot blinked as her body awakened on its own to daylight. Immediately her body tensed in the unfamiliar area. Must be an American camp. Everett propped herself on her elbows on the cot, taking in her surroundings. She felt her heart drop feeling around for her jacket before spotting it, her photograph, and Clare’s necklaces on the stool beside the cot.

Other beds, in what looked like a hospital, were taken up by men who were covered in all sorts of bandages. Only two nurses were working to tend to about a dozen men.

Everett braced herself once again, going to kick off her blanket to give up her cot which could be used by a much more injured soldier. Immediately she regretted it, her legs stiff as metal, her bones protesting being bent. She groaned arching in pain, getting the attention of one of the nurses.

“Hold your horses there!” The nurse fixed the blanket over Everett’s legs. “You should be in absolutely no rush.”

Everett submitted to the nurses’ requests as the kind lady performed some tests bending and straightening her limbs. “A couple of the boys brought you in, what happened?” The pilot explained her circumstances, skipping over the death she encountered. Everett winced throughout her story, now knowing why her grandma complained constantly about arthritis.

The nurse explained that by some miracle there were no broken bones. There was a probability of some fractures but they couldn’t tell for sure. She encouraged the use of crutches as she expertly wrapped her knees and ankles for stability. With some help, Everett was able to stand on her own, forcing down signs of pain. She was just getting the hang of her crutches when a commotion started from outside the hospital tent.

A trio, a woman and two men entered the room. The woman walked in first with an air of confidence wearing a crisp uniform, followed by a tall blond who looked mortified- presumably from a comment made by the third soldier who was failing to hold in his laughter. The woman made eye contact with Everett and offered a warm smile with perfectly painted lips. She was the first to approach, holding out a hand. Everett took the hand shake holding respect for someone who looked like she had fought through the ranks.

“Agent Carter, you are?” The crisp British accent questioned, letting go of her hand.

“Everett Turner,” she let her gaze wander over to the two men flanking the Agent, noticing both were unusually handsome. “Thank you for saving me.” Everett looked at each respectively, knowing they must have had a part in her rescue. “For a minute there, I really thought that was it.”

The blond spoke up, sporting a blinding smile. “Captain Steve Rogers,” Everett shook his hand too. “We’re just lucky to have found you. It’s a miracle we did.” He nodded over to the third man, “If it wasn’t for Buck’s sharp eyes, well, I don’t want to think about what could’ve happened.”

“Sergeant James Barnes. Bucky’s fine,” if Everett thought the Captain’s smile was something, well, the Sergeant’s put it to shame. It made her weak in her already weak knees.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Reaching the farthest for his handshake, she lost some balance letting her crutch fall to the ground.

In a blink of an eye, Sergeant Barnes had caught it with her free hand, his right still holding securely to Everett’s. “The pleasure’s all mine, Ms. Turner.”

Everett felt her eyes crinkle automatically, but upon hearing Agent Carter cough sharply, she straightened ignoring the blue eyes still trained on her. “I guess I’ll ask the obvious question, Ms. Turner. What were you doing all alone, injured, at night, bordering enemy territory?” Everett felt the Agent’s tone insinuated that the deadly situation was all her fault, provoking a few choice words right from the heart.

“I happened to be bombing an enemy airfield, Agent,” her eyes flashed, “aiding in our common goal of defeating Nazi Germany.” Everett didn’t pause, feeling the pent up trama from the previous day build up in her chest. “My navigator and partner,” she felt her voice crack, “and I were shot down and I jumped. I guessed this way was west toward Allied territory and started walking. And that’s First Lieutenant Turner of the 1st Night Bomber Regiment of the United States Air Force, Agent.”

Agent Carter’s perfect red lips opened slightly but no words came out. She quickly regained her composure, continuing her sharp tone, “I’m sorry to hear that, Ms. Turner. Your insignia is not on your jacket, why is that?”

Everett kept her head up, now truly angry this woman would not believe her. “I fly wooden planes, Agent.” Their altercation now gained the attention of the entire hospital. “Do you really think the United States military would provide badges let alone parachutes for their all-female regiment?”

To the pilot’s great surprise, Agent Carter smiled. “I don’t believe so Lieutenant. Glad you made it out alive, I’ll report it to the Colonel.” With that, Agent Carter turned on her heel and exited the space, quickly followed by Captain Rogers who apologized purposely before leaving. Everett furrowed her eyebrows having not a clue as to what just occurred.

She blinked fast, trying to get her head to stop spinning. The room began getting a little hazy as she struggled to maintain balance. Recognizing the Sergeant’s grip around her mid back, he gently lowered her back on the cot and took the crutches. “Lieutenant? Are you alright?”

Everett pursed her lips tightly and raised her index finger in a small request. Little did she know that Sergeant Barnes had signaled the nurse to get some food and drink for her as she took a minute to recover. “I’m alright,” the pilot let out a breath and met her companion’s eyes. “Thank you, Sergeant.”

Squatting on the floor, he straightened to his full height. “I told you, it’s Bucky,” he grinned. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all.” Bucky took a seat next to her on the rickety cot. “Then it’s Everett for me. I’m not really one for formal titles unless it’s a...” she struggled to find the right words, “Well, a special circumstance.”

Bucky let out a laugh, mirroring the expression Everett had first seen him with. “That’s one way to put it. Although I still don’t know what that was,” he turned serious, “from my experiences with Agent Carter, you’ve earned her respect. And you’ve earned mine too.” She turned to Bucky shocked, most men laughed in her face when she told them she was a bomber in the military. They either couldn’t believe it or told her to get back in the kitchen.

“Some of the boys had mentioned you guys at my last station at the front lines. You do some pretty amazing work.” Everett could hardly believe her ears, soaking in every word. “I, uh, do have a question though. Is it true you cut your engines mid air?”

The pilot unfroze and opened her mouth to reply. “Uh, sorry, yeah. I mean yes, we do.”

She nearly jumped out of her skin hearing a sharp whistle pierce the air from a soldier a few cots down. “Holy mackerel,” another soldier muttered from behind them. Apparently most of the hospital was eavesdropping.

“Wow,” was all that Bucky could get out.

“Those Nazis call you the Night Witches, right?” another popped up in interest.

Now the whole hospital was abuzz, injured soldiers asking question after question as Everett struggled to keep up and at the same time scarf down some provisions and water. Never in a million years did she think she would have encountered an entire group of men who not only admired her but truly cared about what she did.

What Everett didn’t see was Sergeant Barnes looking at her in awe as she answered all the questions intelligently, thinking hard about each one as if she had never been asked. He contributed a couple himself, but was more than content with just watching her lips move deliberately, pursuing in thought as well as parting in smiles. His gaze travelled up across her profile, noticing how her emerald eyes shined as Everett spoke about her passion for flying. One question seemingly hit a little too close to home for the young woman, asking her to reflect on the recent bombing which had occurred less than 24 hours ago. Everett dodged the question and Bucky and the soldiers knew enough to let it go.

After the reminder of her trauma, Everett blinked a little slower, trying her hardest to pay attention to each man. Bucky recognized the signs of a body forcing itself to rest and took action to cut off the next question insisting she’d recuperate. She met his eyes with grateful relief as he rose from his seat to lift and tuck her legs under the blanket. The nurse helped, fixing her pillow and blanket. Everett thanked both her supporters again, lingering on Bucky’s face for a moment before succumbing to the darkness.

The following day, she felt significantly better and well rested, already eager to get back in a plane. Now she sat in Colonel Philips’ tent, relaying her most recent night bombing, crutches propped up against the uncomfortable metal chair. The Colonel was firm but patient. Although it didn’t help having Agent Carter behind her back, watching Everett’s every move and taking down every word.

After explaining herself to the fullest the Colonel informed her that he had contacted her superiors who were surprised to learn she was still alive. The First Lieutenant stiffened absorbing the fact that most if not all of her squadron had been killed that night, women who had become her best friends. She did not shed a tear, trying to focus on the next words of Colonel Phillips: there was no way for her to get back to her station in the near future, for they couldn’t spare a plane let alone alert the enemy of their position. If Everett was okay with it, he offered her a position at their camp, providing air support and extra eyes on missions, and most importantly the opportunity to fly a proper plane. With no other option, the pilot accepted.

Before the meeting ended, Agent Carter requested a few words with her. To Everett’s astonishment, Agent Carter (who she now called Peggy), apologized for her actions the day prior. It seemed that despite having an American insignia, the camp didn’t fully trust her, given that she was found easily by enemy borders. It seemed plausible that the Nazis could have dumped her there to report back as a spy. Once the Colonel exited, Peggy extended any assistance Everett needed. As the second military ranking female in a camp filled with a bunch of “wankers,” the Brit admitted that she could use another woman to help shape up all the men. Everett realised how much regard the soldiers gave Agent Carter and how she must have earned it.

Upon exiting the Colonel’s tent with a new friend and a new job, Everett stumbled upon Bucky waiting right outside the flaps. “Glad to see you doing better Ms. Turner,” the Sergeant grinned. “I hear you’re staying in camp?”

Everett couldn’t help but meet his level of joy, “It seems so.” At her confirmation, Bucky’s eyes lit up even more. “Colonel Phillips begged and pleaded with me, so I just couldn’t refuse,” she joked.

He chuckled, fiddling with the dog tags around his neck. “I have to admit I cannot wait to see you fly.” And in just a few short days, under pressure from both healthy and injured soldiers, the pilot herself, and others, Bucky would get to see Everett fly. She was in the Colonel’s office for over an hour, apparently using the argument that all she needed, and had, was two perfectly good working arms to fly a plane. Bucky thought nothing could beat Everett’s happiness when she flung her arms around his neck to tell him the good news, but the beam on her face sitting in the cockpit sent the Sergeant straight to heaven.

After sending Clare’s necklaces back home to her family, Everett kept in contact with the girls back at her station via constant letters. Once fully healed, Agent Carter insisted on hand to hand combat training and soon the pilot began to fly on missions. Unsurprisingly the quick hugs with Sergeant Barnes, before Everett would leave on missions, turned into kisses against the side of her plane. Her friends back at her old station followed the romance on the edge of their seats, waiting eagerly for new letters, forcing their Lieutenant to make them promise the “night witches” were still focused on bombing the Nazis. Everett sometimes missed being a part of a squadron but loved the freedom of flying on her own. And here she was not only respected and admired, but also loved by a certain soldier from Brooklyn.