~ 𝒥 ~ 𝐵~ 𝐵 ~
2024. Brooklyn Apartment
"No!" He shouted as he sat up, chest going up and down frantically, he could've sworn his heart was begging to be taken out from within. It was racing agains his chest, as if it was protesting for an imediate scape, to be let out from it's cage and from the torture of pumping so much blood.
He was breathing hard and fast, trying to control his breathing as he had been told- and seen in internet, sometimes it miraculously worked, sometimes it didn't, sometimes it just made it worst, thinking that it didn't worked the second he tried made his fear get bigger and worsen the situation, it was suffocating, he just wanted the same his own heart was asking, he wanted to rip it out and satisfy it's pleas. To get rid of the hell he had from within. Peace. Something so simple, something he never though he could get, yet it didn't stoped him from wishing for it.
"Make it stop." He whispered sad and helplessly to the nothing "Please, just make it stop." It felt as if it would never end, when he finally had calmed along the day, something else had to come and trigger another episode, or the dreadfull night would come. And he wouldn't sleep- again.
For most it was time to rest, a time of peace and relaxation. For him, it a reminder of his bad luck, and how instead of living his life decades ago, he had been forced to live trough time. Now that it was 'over', he needed to deal with the sequels, he had make it work. Never something he had choosen, at this point, he was pretty sure he wouldn't ever get to.
"Just- just make it stop." If someone could understand his pain, even if it was just a part of it. No judgement, just understandment. He didn't wanted what he had. Hell, even if it seemed unfair to think of it this way, as he had been his mother and father's boy, his sister's role model, Steve's strenght, he wished he hadn't been born, he didn't asked for any of this. Life had turned more dark, somber and lonely. But he was afraid, and he wouldn't show it, he couldn't.
His perhaps worse enemy was yet his only companion, it never left. Fear.
~ 𝒥 ~ 𝐵~ 𝐵 ~
January 1945, Swiss Alps
"Remember when i made you ride the Cyclone at Coney Island?" Bucky asked
Steve was looking ahead at the mountains, everyone was scared or nervous, but as the leader he was the one in charge to make sure all would work "Yeah and i trew up?" He replied
Well, maybe running pranks on Steve wasn't the best idea after all. He hated this, the sight made hs stomach twist and his brain was already runing wild, even if he tried not to the uneasiness and maybe a slight bit of betrayal made it past his lips "This isn't payback, is it?" That just spoke by itself
"Now why would i do that?" He said trying to bite back a smile that still slipped out.
"We were right. Doctor Zola's on the train." Jones said as he turned to them, taking off the headphones attached to the transceiver "Hydra dispatcher gave him permission to open up the throttle. Wherever he's going, they must need him bad"
"Let's get going, because they're moving like the devil" Falsworth said and everyone started to get ready
"We only got about a 10 second window. You miss that window, we're bugs on a windshield" What a miracle the captain didn't graced them with a speech, maybe the short time, or maybe he just didn't knew what to say. Either way, he positioned himself on the line and hung the arness, hooking it to the cable, ready to fight and win the mission
Then Falsworth told to them "Mind the gap" before they leapt onto the wire and zipped down towards the incoming train.
"Better get moving, bugs!" Dugan said as he checked the speed of the train on his wristwatch. The tone didn't gave it away at all, but waste an oportunity to mock Steve? He couldn't do that.
They paused a moment to breath and get ready, they took off just as the train aproached.
Jones, Bucky and Steve successfully landed on the roof of the train, while Jones left them to get Zola at the cabin, both walked towards the end of the train, then they would go advancing slowly towards the front.
And the plan began as it should have.
Bucky soon met Steve at the end of the car, Steve went ahead first, leading him into the next car that was already open.
And menacingly quiet. Something was very wrong. It had to be.
Steve turned back at Bucky, both sharing a suspicious look. But he kept going, slowly entering the car with Bucky closely behind him.
Suddenly a loud bang startled them both.
The doors closed separating them. He saw Bucky turning around right before doing so himself, firing at Hydra soldiers that apeared, an ambush.
"Stop him! Fire again!" Zola said through the coms, desesperate to kill who was perhaps the only person that could put a permanent stop to his empire.
Swarms of HYDRA guards began pouring out of the pilot and into the middle cars of the train. Bucky and Steve engaged them in a tense firefight, trading shots from behind cover.
Steve managed to kill his one assailant; a soldier wielding Hydra cannons and used it to blast open the first of the doors, allowing him to manually open the second.
He trew Buck an M1911, he had run dry of ammunition. The two worked together taking turns to kill the remaining Hydra soldier.
"I had him on the ropes." Breathless and hurt, but there was always time for competiveness, even in middle of war. And his pridefull self couldn't admit he needed help- that one was for the punk of Steve
"I know you did." It was his way of saying; Yeah, sure. You weren't almost killed just now.
But just as they though they would be able to take a breath, another soldier bursted trough the door and shot in their direction, Steve barely got time to shout "Get down!" And cover Bucky
The zola spoke again to the soldier "Kill him. Now!"
Steve fell to the side, and so did Bucky, but he was the one to stand first, he grabbed the shield got ready, he aimed and shot twice, but the other soldier managed to take him down, the impact pushed him out of the train
Steve stood up and quickly graved the shield, trowing it at the soldier before running towards the now destroyed car.
"Bucky!" He went out, grabbing the railings and walking towards him, both trying to get closer.
"Hang on!" Bucky moved towards Steve as best as he could, Steve stuck out his hand, trying to get a hold of him.
"Grab my hand!" There was terror in his eyes as Steve reached out to him. He tried. He swore he tried. It was the first time Steve had seen Bucky so scared- maybe the first he had actually seen him scared. Bucky had always put on a brave face, he was always the one who protected Steve. Seeing him that scared, his eyes said something Steve didn't wanted to think about, it was unimaginable. It- it couldn't happen- no. No it was impossible. No.
Bucky was afraid, but he knew the moment the bars creaked, that there was were the line ended, he tried, he wanted to put on a smile, he knew this would be hard on Steve, his face, so hopeless yet in denial of what was about to happen. It did. A faint shocked "No!" Made it past Steve's lips. He tried to grab him just as he slipped away.
No.It couldn't be. B- Bucky's face, it, it was already haunting him, the pure definition of terror, it always would.
Perhaps in another lifetime, they would be together again.
Though he didn't wanted to believe it, It was a farewel, it was the cold end of a whole book in his life.
He had to leave his shock for later. As much as he just wanted to let everything sink in right then and there, just break down for once. He couldn't, Jones probably needed help, and they still got what they wanted.
He got Zola and got a step closer to end war. But, at what cost? It costed him his best friend, it costed him Bucky.
"Grab my hand!" He shouted 'I'm sorry Stevie' was all he wanted to say, but it never came out.
A creak, such a small second, and he was falling. The last he heard was a "No" from his pal, the last look at him was already killing him. He screamed in fear. There was nothing he could do but accept death due to the unevitable fall, his last moments, before biding farewell to his life.
The world stopped, it slowed down until it was as if he was caught in time. The cold wind embraced him, as if apologising for what was about to happen, so did the sight of the snowy mountains. It felt- peacefull, oddly. Maybe it was because he knew the moment he ended up hanging from the train, that it was it. He was going to be dead at any second, even if he tried to give his friend hope, he tried to give a smile, his eyes betrayed him, not for nothing are they said to be the windows to the soul, and his was resignated to the end.
He'd always had a certain notion of time, even as a child, he feared it inmensely. Maybe obvious, maybe not, but he never really pondered on the idea of how he would die. It wasn't something he was specially interesed in, maybe he was curious, but it never went far from the very front of his brain.
And now, here he found himself with the unwanted answer.
He fell to the ground, coliding with sharp stones and blocks of ice. He couldn't help but yell and grunt. Pure pain.
At first he couldn't even make if he was alive or not, but if the pain was something to go for, then he was in fact, alive. And it was confusing, the whole thing was.
Until his rationality started to fade.
Bucky began to shiver, he was too cold, and he needed to warm up. But he couldn't control it, sometimes, in the cold of a night walk, if he shivered, he could somehow make it stop, or lessen it, but this was different, another type of cold.
His muscles began to shake. His last parts of conciousness could barely make a few things, and of of them was; he was no longer in control. His body was making all it could to survive by it's own.
In 14 minutes, his body was trying hard to make it, using all it had to save him, but it was giving up, it was too much. And maybe it wasn't giving up at all, but using all that it was just runing out of the posibility to fend for itself.
Food was a factor that pherhaps gave him more time. The sugars were the first to get worn off, followed by fat and then carbs that lasted longer. His body was slowly taking everything it could apart to use it, it was buying him time.
The heart beat was multiple seconds apart, had someone checked on him but not being carefull enough, they would've straight up though he was death
His methbolism slowed, the veins dilatated, the core's warmth that was being held in between the organs rushed to his extremities, and the skin warmed up as it deteriorated.
He was confused, his body 'relaxed' as his brain told him it was fine, after piercing cold, warmth should be good, no? Well no, it wasn't. It was just a response as his life was slowly vanishing from within
It started to feel more uncomfortable as it deteriorated. The snow felt like knives trough th skin, a stabbing pain.
Then, the temperature warmed up more, and Bucky not rationally at all though something turned up heat, but it was only his brain confused and tricked into the situation. He felt euphoric, it was like a bliss, he had given up on scaping.
He didn't had the force to move a single muscle, but he could feel- or not, that something was bad, he didn't exactly knew what it was, but it was worsening the already bad hypotermia. One of his arms felt more warm than the other, then the pain on that side increased. He screamed.
Bucky laid there for maybe half an hour, but time wasn't something he really had a notion off, for him it was all a blur yet a moment paused on time, just waiting to die and maybe see his family again. He wasn't concious at all, but the remanent of life in him was doing all it could to fight. To survive.
He didn't even realised that at some point he wasn't alone anymore, he barely could feel hands grabbing him. Until he saw a soldier, but not one who would help him? Maybe they would kill him?
His barely alive brain and it's thoughs were interrupted when with blurry vision he saw blood- his arm. No.
They had catched him. And they dragged him all the way until reaching a camp, right before he reached severe hypothermia, the medics attended the dying man, bandaging his shoulder and getting him ready to put him in a truck, sending him to the base. They sedated him just before leaving, he was weak, and couldn't be able to fight, but they wouldn't take risks.
He lost his arm. And his life.
~ 𝒥 ~ 𝐵~ 𝐵 ~
Euphoria. That's what he felt waking up, it was relief, a certain hapiness to be alive. Maybe he actually had a chance, maybe life didn't hated him.
But after a while, he started to be more consious, his body more responsive, what he felt, he didn't liked it. It was a huge discomfort, specially on his shoulder, the situation started to kick in, and the sequels of the hypotermia made themselves known. He felt exausted, so tired, and he wanted to rest, but worry had him battling sleep.
Soreness. The outcome of the last days, specially the last one. His memory was bad, he needed time and care. Something he wouldn't get there.
"Where am i?" His voice was weak, all his body was sore, and he was strugling to stay awake, and he swore he still felt the cold of the snow as it drowned him.
"What do we do with him? Doctor Zola is in prission, and the rest is gone." A guard asked to his superior. This was quite the prissioner to have, but there weren't enough resourcess to start a project, the whole organisation was almost gone.
"Put him on ice. We need to sort out a plan first." Was his answer, a command too. So that's what they did. But not before starving and beating him for a week.
He was weak, vulnerable. He was fighting to stay awake most of the time, he silently allowed a few tears to slip out when he found himself alone once or twice. He had a bandage covering his shoulder, it was replaced only once by the pleas of a doctor. If they wanted him for anything, they needed him alive. And one of the guards had kicked the fresh wound, causing it to bleed.
After a horrible week, they finally got ahold of a cryo chamber. Starting it and sedating Bucky again, but he wasn't going down without a fight, they had to forced him in after a good while of resistance.
The chamber became the only rest he had from the world, keeping him alive and away from those demons. There rested a honourable yet broken man, a friend, a son, a brother. A hero.
3 years Later. Siberia.
"The procedure has already started." To say doctor Zola was happy was saying the least. The man could now experimentate with another unlucky man, thing was that the man before him was the only survivor of his tests back in 1943.
They replaced his arm, a metal silver prostetic arm with a red star on the shoulder took the original's place.
It had been a miracle they had applied anesthesia. They didn't cared for his pain, as long as he was usefull, nothing mattered. But at least the doctor's knowledge pushed them to follow what they had learned.
~ 𝒥 ~ 𝐵~ 𝐵 ~
Everything was blurry when he opened his eyes, they were heavy, and his whole body was sore "Steve?" He- since when was Steve that tall? And, so big? But- but it seemed like steve, it was him.
Then he left. Where was he- was that- "Mom?" His troath was dry, making it hard to speak, it came out as a whisper.
She's here? His mom was with him, she didn't left. She looked so beautifull.
"Steve?" He came back. Both were with him? Steve didn't met his mom? Did he?
"Dad." Conciousness slowly came back, and he did called for his father. He remembered something, but sleepiness was winning the battle.
Awh. His head was pounding so hard.
He yawned. But he wanted to stay awake. This place felt odd. Cold.
"Ah, he's awake." Well, it seems that being exited to tortute someone did existed, and Zola's voice was that very thing, so much potential in that mind yet wasted on bad.
"I called you the moment i heard him sir" replied the guard of the cell.
"Good"
"S- Steve. Yeah my, my mom. I had it-" There goes the last bit of sanity again
"What the fuck is he saying?" The guard asked him, there was people that who knows why was in Hydra, some that doubted and clearly regretted it. And then there were the ones who had no single doubt and maybe not even feelings.
"It's an effect of the quimics we recently provided him along with anesthesia, he's allucinating."
"D- dad, ma, It- it hurts-"
~ 𝒥 ~ 𝐵~ 𝐵 ~
A week had gone by, Zola wanted him concious for this, so that's what was done.
Bucky was standing there with rage in his eyes, gripping the bars so hard his knuckles were turning white. There was definietly an amount of serum in him, it had been successfull, but not completely.
And he would fix it soon.
"Zola." He spat trough gritted teeth, for Bucky, it had not been but mere days between one event and the other, he had been starved and beaten just a couple days ago in his mind, now again, at least for him it was like that, for the others it had been years.
"Ah, you remember."
"What do you want?" He wasn't messing around, and he wanted so bad to be able to get a hold of the doctor just for a minute. Only a few minutes and he could be dead, Bucky was far more than just angry,
"You'll see, your friend did got me locked in for a good amount of time. Lucky him. But, i'm not that easy to defeat. Cut one head and two more shall take it's place, meaning when i want something, i get it. And that, Sergeant, happens to be my perfect weapon. You." Certain information could be stored for later.
"Like hell i'll work for you. Do you see me being a brainless stupid soldier with a death wish? No way."
"A soldier is exactly what i want. And it's not a matter of will, Sergeant."
"Steve will fry your brain when i get out of here. It's not like i'm expecting help imagining how that fall looked like, but i'm not about to be a puppet "
"No one is there waiting for you. Only we can be a place for you to belong now"
"Good joke. But best believe i'm getting out of here, death or alive."
"I'm afraid that it won't be possible."
"I don't fear you."
"Not now, that's correct. But you will."
"I'll fight. Whatever it takes. I will scape and end this for once and for all. I'll end you"
"Start first procedure!" He commanded raising his voice.
~ 𝒥 ~ 𝐵~ 𝐵 ~
After a year, Zola soon discoverd the way to his twisted goal and the effectiveness of this treatment on Barnes. At one point after weeks of now well-documented physical and psychological torture, Barnes' handlers- who were also required to do reports, saw that he had changed, he had become "compliant." Though not entirely, the Doctor had to admit the man was strong, incredible will and resistance. But this wasn't bad, no. It was exactly what he needed.
• • • •
He's been exposed to a series of shocks over the course of a week. At the beggining he had the understandment that he could move to a different area to escape. But after another two weeks that choice was slowly reduced as he was instead conditioned to understand that there was no behavior that he could do to avoid the treatment. After days of confusing stimulation and persistent jolts of electricity, he came to accept his fate as permanent. He would respond to pain by complying rather than attempt an escape.
In a sense, the brain that has reached the point of learned helplessness, the brain in a near permanent state of torture. The subject loses any sense of a future outside of suffering. In belief of the adage from existential psychology that depression is "the inability to construct a future," then depressive is more than an accurate description.
Electroshock and the rest of the project is confirmed succsessfull.
-Dr Arnim Zola
The shocks turned down the overactive connections between parts of the brain that govern mood and those responsible for thought and concentration.
He became a resigned being, a future walking weapon, void of anything but Hydra's command.
• • • •
The continual reabsorption of key neurotransmitters changed the person completely, affecting a state of depression.
His response to pain is less of fight and more of resignation, the subject doesn't fight the pain as much as he would in his first days,
Dr Arnim Zola.
Bucky was kept in a locked cell and dragged down to the treatment room. He just couldn't figure out why putting an electric shock through his brain was going to help and what. Ge was absolutely petrified.
After it was done, he had headache, nausea and his muscles were sore.
There were 'gaps' in his memory of the months he was receiving regular treatments. Every previous thing had been slowly wiped by the elecktroshock.
He was being slowly wiped away.
~ 𝒥 ~ 𝐵~ 𝐵 ~
So, we're not done yet. This is just a part, but i hope you liked it.
In the hypotermia part. I got info of people that has actually been in it, plus other researches. So most of this should be acurate, but if there's any mistake feel free to tell me.
I suffered writing this-
I'm already dreading the end of this book :( no idea why.