Marvel One Shots

Sinking

Bucky's heaving breath filled the silence, moisture clouding the cold air of the room. His limbs shook with relief, the agonizing pain finally subsiding. The daily torture session had come to an end.

A tremor ran through his body, and he shivered. The restraints chafed against his lacerated skin, and his already swollen limbs protested as the rough cords rubbed into the lesions covering his sore body.

The light had been completely shut off, leaving him to imagine exactly what was making the scratching sound in the corner nearest to the door.

Squeezing his eyes tightly shut, Bucky tried not to think about the sound, or the pain, or the memories. For the thousandth time, he wished they'd killed him already.

What's the point in keeping me alive? he thought. To see me writhe in pain everyday?

As soon as the thought occurred, he realized that might be exactly their point.

During his long hours of imprisonment, Bucky's thoughts often wandered to Steve. He remembered happier times, when they were both still together and untouched by the horrors of war.

What are you up to now, Steve? he thought.

Did he ever make it with that Carter woman? He almost smiled at the thought of Steve, his little buddy he'd always had to protect from the neighborhood bullies, with a woman like Peggy Carter.

Almost.

Eventually, pure exhaustion overwhelmed his body, and he plummeted into dreamless sleep.

~~~~~~

The automatic door to his cell slid open, revealing a man Bucky was all-to-familiar with.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Barnes," he said through his surgical mask. Bucky continued staring at the white washed ceiling, afraid to look and see what tools the man had brought with him today.

His torturer chuckled, and Bucky heard the man uncap something.

"Still no answer." He stepped closer. "How long have you known me, James? So rude not to greet an old friend."

Bucky struggled to control the tremors that were traveling through his body, anticipating what the man was about to do.

"You're not my friend."

All humor drained from the man's voice as he answered silkily, "Oh, don't worry," he said lightly. A sharp jab in the side of Bucky's neck made the breath rush out of his lungs. "I will be."

The fluid poured like a fire into his neck, traveling through his muscles till the burn covered every inch of his body. James gasped. His arms and legs were completely immobile, stripped of any motor skills he'd previously possessed. Only his eyes were capable of movement.

"You should've been more careful, Mr. Barnes." The man drew out the needle and clicked the plastic cap back into place. "You have no idea what we're capable of."

~~~~~~

Unconsciousness.

It used to be a place, the only place, he could escape the pain. Now, as he drifted in a sea of burning agony, he realized that even that had been stripped away from him.

From HYDRA, there was no place he could hide, not even in the deepest trenches of his own mind.

Steve, he thought suddenly, the name echoing strangely in his head. Who's Steve?

It sounded familiar.

He's my... my best friend. That's right. A wave of guilt and confusion washed over him. How could I forget Steve?

The more he tried to remember, the more he seemed to forget. Where is Steve?

For a moment, a glimpse of the red, white, and blue shield washed across his mind. He tried to hold on to the fragment of his broken memory, but it slipped from his grasp and was gone.

Steve, he thought. I'm sorry.

And Bucky Barnes slipped away, unable to hang on any longer.

~~~~~~

Blinding light forced its way through the cracks of his eyelids, and he blinked.

The Winter Soldier sat up slowly from his position on the sterilized white surface. His face was blank, his expression hard and empty of all emotion. A man with a clipboard stood beside the table, scribbling with a pen. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

The Winter Soldier studied the man in front of him with a mix of curiosity and confusion. "Where am I?"

The man looked up at him and smiled easily. "Home."

The answer left him unsatisfied.

"Why can't I remember anything?"

"You have nothing to remember, Soldier," the man answered, still jotting down notes. "All that matters is what you choose to do now." The doctor smiled. "You will be a gift to mankind."

Somehow, the Winter Soldier didn't think he would be given a choice.

He looked down at his body. To his surprise, one arm had been replaced with a metal replica, starkly contrasting with the rest of him, glinting in the flouresents overhead. He flexed his iron hand, testing the weight of it.

The Winter Soldier looked around, drinking in his surroundings for the first time. People bustled back and forth in the large, low hanging room, wearing white lab jackets and conversing back and forth with each other.

Maybe he was being given a new start. He looked at the doctor, hesitating. Trust didn't come easily to him.

He looked down at the man's outstretched hand.

But who else could he trust?

He grabbed the doctor's hand firmly in his own, forcing a polite smile.

"I'll be with you till the end of the line."