Țuică | 18+ {Bucky Barnes}

Chapter Six (Longing)

Hey loves!
Just a quick FYI, there will be the talk of torture, Electroconvulsive therapy (ECT), Anxiety/Panic attacks. Just keep that in mind while reading this chapter!

As always, Jesse_Winter_Soldier, you are the best! Thank you for the beta reading!
-Sif

Bucky sat straight up from his pallet on the floor, his bare chest heaving hard, hair clinging to his forehead drenched in sweat. He yanked the tangled-up sheet off his legs. Pulling his knees up, he rested his elbows on them—another nightmare. After eventually calming down, he pulled himself up off the floor. He peeled off his sweat-soaked shorts and dropped them in the dirty basket in the bathroom. He stood in front of the mirror as the water warmed up in the shower. His hair was longer now, dark stubble on his jaw; he looked at his mangled left shoulder. He closed his eyes for just a moment when a memory flashed through his mind.

He woke up on a cold metal table, strapped down. The back of his head throbbing told him he had been hit from behind; he looked around quickly, taking in his surroundings. He was in a procedure room; that much was clear. It was creepy, like something out of that Mary Shelley book he read once.

A short chubby man with glasses approached him, carrying a tray of instruments. There were several large syringes filled with a bright blue liquid floating inside.

Oh, this can't be good.

The man cleared his throat, "I shall not waste introductions since there is no guarantee you will be here in the morning."

Well, that is comforting!

The man stabbed a giant needle in his arm; he grunted in pain, watching the blue liquid disappear into his arm. Four more injections were done, two on each arm. Bucky took a deep breath watching the man closely. He watched him, waiting for something to happen.

White-hot fire jolted through his veins, his body thrashed violently against the leather restraints. He didn't recognize the scream that was ripped from his throat. His jaw clamped shut so hard his teeth ached; he wasn't sure how long this went on. Now he knew what happened when soldiers were sent 'upstairs,' nobody ever came back, and this was why. He would die strapped to this table while some crazy Nazi watched taking notes. Eventually, the pain stopped, his body no longer shook, everything went dark. He was finally out of his hell hole.

He shook his head several times; he looked up, realizing the mirror was now fogged up. He stepped under the showerhead, letting the hot water cascade down his body. Feeling his tight muscles contract, he braced himself against the wall with his metal hand. "So, this is how today is going to start.", he mumbled to himself.

Wrapping a thick green towel around his waist, he padded into the kitchen. He dug through the cabinet, pulling out instant coffee. The little things he found comfort in; the horrible taste reminded him of a time before Hydra, before the war. He looked out his sorry excuse of a kitchen window, not that he minded in the least. It was pouring rain, and hard, fantastic unless he wanted a brisk walk through a hurricane. He wasn't going anywhere today.

________________________________________

Bucky was pulled out of his empty void by the sounds of shoes clicking on the tiled floor; his body protested being alert. He was sore, he felt like he went ten rounds with a brick wall, and the wall won. His muscles twitched; his jaw was sore; he tasted a metallic flavor in his mouth.

"Congratulations, Sergeant Barnes, or prisoner 56898, I am Dr. Zola." He blinked a few times, looking over at the short chubby man from yesterday. At least he hoped it was yesterday; how long was he out? "You have survived; this is a glorious day for Hydra. Which means we will be spending a lot of time together." He smiled wickedly.