REMINDER: Words with ** around them are in Russian.
After a few days things are a lot better, or more normal you guess that you could say. Bucky is able to touch you again without you jumping in fright, you aren't looking over your shoulder every two seconds, and Luke goes back to his normal self too... only a little bit grumpy and back chatty compared to what he has been lately.
You get the news that Jake has been put away for life with all kinds of convictions including conspiring with hydra, as do his comrades. So to celebrate you take the family out for dinner that night, finally feeling a massive weight lifted off your shoulders.
The next week or so is pretty damn good all things considered. Bucky is a little bit weird about some stuff but you think he's just in over protective mode at the moment. But besides that, you kind of are able to settle in to somewhat of a rhythm of normalcy, busy... but for you guys any sort of routine is more than welcome.
That is until one night a few days later. You hear Bucky's motorbike pull up outside, obviously arriving home from work. You look up and out the kitchen window from where you are peeling carrots and potatoes, smiling expecting to see him striding up the pathway towards the house. Instead, he is slumped over the handle bars of the bike, nearly falls off when he eventually does move and then staggers forward all over the place, hand on his forehead and cringing in apparent pain.
Worried, you run over to the door and throw it open.
"Buck?!" You gasp as he nearly trips up the steps. "What's wrong?"
He just groans before basically falling into your arms, his weight nearly making you fall over too.
"Bucky!" You gasp again in surprise.
You manage to get his metal arm around your shoulder and guide him over to the couch, helping him stagger along and then him just simply rolling onto it. Immediately his eyes are squeezed shut and he just groans again. Of course Luke, Isla and Theo all come running over to see what's going on.
"Bucky baby, what's wrong?" You ask again and kneel down beside him.
"Nnn, my head." He moans and turns onto his side to face you.
"What is it?" You press, stroking a hand over his that still cups his forehead as if that's going to help in any way whatsoever.
"I've got a splitting headache." He explains.
"Should you have been motorbiking home if you feel like that? Can you even see straight? Cos you certainly aren't walking straight?" You frown in concern.
"Well put it this way." He winces. "I can see two of you right now."
"Daddy!" Isla exclaims. "That's not normal."
"It's okay sweetie I think I just need a glass of water." He mumbles and shakes his head slightly, waving his hand in a way that you think is an attempt to get her out of his face. "I probably over exerted myself at the gym this morning."
"Shh, sweetie, talk quietly. Loud noises will hurt dad's head more." You tell her. "Luke, could you go fetch him a glass of water please? I'm going to go get a cold cloth and see if that helps."
By the time you get back he is trying to sit up to have a drink, his whole body shaking. The kids are all watching with big, worried eyes. You sit down beside him and help guide the glass to his mouth, taking it from him when he's done. Immediately he flops back down so that his head is resting on the arm of the couch.
"Oh man this is worse then at Steve and Peggy's wedding." He groans, his eyes squeezed shut while he cringes.
You immediately start to worry. There's no way you can attribute this to alcohol because he hasn't been drinking. And it's happened twice now whatever it is. Maybe it's a stress thing or he's still over worked and exhausted? He is home late tonight, it's been a long few days.
"Kids, would you mind giving us some space? Why don't you get yourselves ready for bed. Isla and Luke, would you mind helping Theo?" You ask them.
Thankfully, although he's only two he is pretty self-sufficient. It's probably somewhat to do with his abilities.
They nod obediently and do as they're told. At least when it comes to it Luke is good like that.
You set to dabbing his forehead with the damp cloth. He doesn't feel hot or anything, just a little pale but at least it must be somewhat soothing. He lays there pretty much silently, eyes resting closed, cringing slightly, massaging his temples every once and a while while you stroke the cold water across his forehead.
"How are you feeling? Did you want to go to bed?" You ask at around 10pm.
"It's gotten worse. I don't think I can stand up doll, I'll just sleep out here sorry." He croaks.
"That's okay, I'm staying out here with you though. I'll try find some painkillers and see if they help you and I'll set the fire and get you a blanket." You sigh, concerned and stand up.
He swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "Thanks doll."
You do exactly as you said you would and end up sitting on the floor in front of him, resting your head on the couch and looking up at his cute face as you continue to gently dab at his forehead.
Whether the painkillers work or not you aren't sure, but eventually he drifts off to sleep, and soon you follow suit, your hand still resting on his face.
Bucky's POV:
"Y'know, this's gotta be human abuse, y'know that right?" Thomas complains with chattering teeth as we walk along the roofs of the lookouts, scuffing his boots on the concrete making the currently hollow spaces below us echo.
"Y'know, I really don't think they care." I joke sarcastically as I rub my arms profusely trying to warm them up, my breath forming a cloud in front of me.
"Pfft, feeding us nothing and then lumping is out here in the cold expecting us to work for them? How do they think that's gonna work?" He continues.
"Because." I grunt as we jump across a ledge and onto the next concrete block, the moonlight peaking through the tall pine trees the only thing lighting out way. "They will kill us all if we don't do it."
"But how can we when we are starving and sleep deprived?"
"You'll be surprised what fear can do to people." I point out. "Speaking of, we should really head back. If they realise we snuck out of the cell they'll come after us and I don't want to know what kind of punishment we would receive."
"Aw come on Barnes, just live a little!" He insists.
"I don't know about you, but I've got a family I'd actually like to make it back to thanks, and a daughter that I really want to meet at some point soon. Plus, I don't exactly find joy in the stinging feeling in my fingers right now since it's so bloody cold."
"Yeah? Well, my brother's stuck out here too. I've got nothing to loose." He huffs.
"But I'm sure Falsey would appreciate you coming back to the barracks tonight."
"Fine, we can head back if it means that much to you. Sorry, I just wanted some fresh air and to get out of that musty place for a minute. Thanks for coming with me." He sighs.
"No worries, i don't blame you."
"Going somewhere?" A different, darker voice suddenly sneers.
I can't determine where it is coming for, it sounds like it's coming from everywhere... somewhere in the trees. Apparently Thomas is the same because we're both looking around wildly, our heads whipping around frantically. We know straight away that it's not another one of the boys, we've been spotted.
"Barnes... did you here that?" He whispers hesitantly.
"Run Tom!" I exclaim as I start sprinting for one of the bunkers.
If we can outrun them the we just might be able to escape and slip back into our cell unnoticed and unrecognised.
I look back to see Tom right at my heals, but then his expression changes and his eyes go wide just before he comes to a halt and starts back up.
"Ah... b-b-Buck-" He stutters terrified.
My stomach drops, knowing why he's behaving this way without even looking. Sure enough, by the time I'm turning back around, I run into something hard, nearly knocking me over. But then I feel a pair of hands grab me by the shoulders stopping me.
I find myself looking straight at the leathered chest of what is no doubt a Hydra uniform and know that I am screwed. But then I look up and the face that I see makes me realise that I'm even more screwed than I first thought.
Grinning down at me evilly is none other than Colonel Lohmer, one of Johan Schmidt's right hand men, and someone who already hates me and would use any excuse he can to punish me for anything.
"Well, well, Well." He smirks. "What have we here? 325570 up to no good again is it? Why am I not surprised?"
"N-no sir, please. I was just heading back to the barracks from a late night look out." I lie, my face to the ground.
I can't bring myself to look up at him and I don't dare look behind me incase Thomas managed to get away because that would draw attention to him.
"Really?" He asks with a surprised tone. "Because that's not what it looks like to me!"
And with that he grunts and shoves me backwards up against a tree. I'm too weak from malnourishment over the last few months to stop it. Next thing I know there is a sharp stabbing pain in my abdomen.
"Ah!" I cry out at the sudden agony.
I look down to see him holding the handle of a knife, twisting it slowly inside of me and slowly pressing it in further. A concentrated, evil look on his face.
"Ahh! Ah!" I gasp and screw my face up, eyes watering.
"Barnes! No!" Thomas suddenly cries out from somewhere.
I look up to see the shadow of who must be Thomas running back towards me.
"Leave him alone!" He roars.
"Oh shut up." The colonel rolls his eyes, suddenly ripping the knife out of me causing me to yelp again.
Immediately I feel faint, whether it's from blood loss or pain. I can't help but let my hands fly to the wound and find myself sliding down the tree until I'm slumped at the base. Helpless and unable to do anything but watch in horror as he turns on Thomas and in one swift movement, slashed the knife across his throat before he even knows what's hit him.
Straight away he crumples to the ground, motionless, lifeless.
"Tom!" I whimper weakly. "No!"
I force myself onto my hands and knees, trying to crawl towards him. Every movement causes me agony, the newly opened wound gaping and squishing. When I look down all I can see is slick, shiny blood covering my hands.
Tears are streaming down my face by now. I know the colonel is just standing there as I creep over to Thomas, my arms threatening to give out, watching me, taunting me. Sure enough when I get to him I feel a cold hard boot on my back, the weight shoving me straight down and pinning me there.
All I can do is look straight into the cold, dead eyes of Thomas. His head lolled towards me, his neck covered in and gushing blood and a pool of it quickly growing around his head.
"Thomas." I whimper and go to reach for him but am abruptly yanked backwards as the colonel grabs me by the collar.
"Ah!" I gasp once again as he twists me around.
As he starts to take me away I squirm and try to fight him off, but it's no use. He has me. All he does is simply drag me through the dirt and into the darkness of the trees, my feet trailing before me.
~~~~
I gingerly lift up my tattered, blood stained jersey with shaking fingers and cringe at what I see, wincing with the slight movement. My stab wound looks even worse than it did yesterday and I thought that was bad. It's so swollen that it's hard and puss is oozing out of the wound along with blood still dribbling out too, not to mention the bright red flesh surrounding it.
Sure that's the worst of my injuries but they haven't exactly not been brutal to me over the last... I don't know... week by now maybe? They beat me every single day. And it's starting to take its toll. I was already weak before coming here because of malnourishment but now I'm ten times worse, the very obviously spreading infection of my wound not helping.
All I want is to see my family, to hold (Y/N)'s face in my hands and kiss her profusely. Although I don't see how I will ever get out of here now - no one that ever gets taken by the colonel has ever come back - this thought is the only thing keeping me alive. Other than that I would rather die than take on another day of what I have been so far.
And they'll be coming any moment. I know they will. Every morning they come and take me to another room, another concrete cell to beat me up. I don't even know why they bother; they probably just like to keep the blood splatters to one room.
Sure enough after a few more minutes I hear the footsteps of the two men coming closer from down the hallway. I want to cower away from them but I'm too weak to move. I just can't do it. Everything hurts. Movement. My body. Even my mind. Just thinking takes too much effort for me now.
They come to stand in front of my cell, looking at me through the bars where I lay slumped against the wall in an awkward, helpless position in the far corner, unable to move, my legs splayed out in front of me, my arms hanging limply at my sides on the ground, and my head leaning back against the wall for support.
"Oh Jesus." One of them cringes before turning to the other.
"Look at the state of you!" The other exclaims as they look at me, almost amusedly.
All I can bring myself to do is lift my gaze to look him in the eyes, scowling subtly.
I don't know these men. I've never seen them before. But they are making my life hell.
"Do you think it's time?" The other one asks him. "If we don't do it soon it could be too late for Doctor Zola, we might loose him if we aren't careful."
"Yeah." The other smirks, never taking his eyes away from me. "He seems worn down enough to me."
And with that the sound of them unlocking the cell door rattles my ear drums, the loudest noise I hear down here. The first few days I was trying to run out every time they opened it, but now why would I bother to fight? It's clearly not going to work.
They come over to me and roughly lift me up causing me to whimper. They each hoist one of my arms over their shoulders and start walking, too fast for me to keep up. I try to stagger along after them but end up tripping over my own feet and let them just drag me along after them.
To my surprise - not that I can find the energy to care - they take me to a different room today. It's more like an office, with a desk and chair and things plastered all over the walls, plans, paintings, a map. There is some sort of bed in the middle of the room with thick straps which are clearly going to be used to restrain me. We pass a mirror and I manage to get a glimpse of myself through the flickering of the single table lamp illuminating the room.
My appearance shocks me at how much it has changed. But then Again, When was the last time I actually saw myself? Before they captured our unit and that was a while ago now too. My eyes are vacant and bloodshot, cheeks hollow and eyes surrounded by dark bags, my skin is pale but oh so grimy and my cheeks and chin are covered in a messy stubble and my hair is a matter, unkempt mess. Anyone would think I was homeless. I don't even think my own wife would recognise me... I hardly do.
I'm too busy in a daze thinking still when they slam me down against the hard wooden bed and start strapping me in. I don't fight them. I just can't. I just lie there, eyes squeezed shut to numb the pain as they jostle me around, not giving a single care as to how they treat me or the fact that I feel like I'm dying.
And then it all stops, they step back and just look at me.
"Don't go anywhere." One calls to me as they start to leave, causing them both to laugh.
It feels like ages, hours even, before someone comes back.
Without even realise it I start talking to myself. Whether it's to pass the time or sooth myself, I don't know, or maybe I'm just finally going crazy.
"All you had to do was finish the god damned war and you can't even do that." I mumble under my breath. "It's okay. You'll be okay though. You'll get out of this one way or another whether it's alive or dead."
It must be the first time I've talked all week.
But it's not them who do eventually come back. The footsteps are quick and shuffling, as if this person is in an urgent rush. I frown and blink my eyes open, struggling to see in the too bright room even though I know it's not actually bright at all. I can hear them rummaging around in the desk or something.
Eventually I manage to focus on a short, slightly stout, dwarfish looking man with large glasses and lab coat.
"Ahhh, good morning Sergeant Barnes." He grins evilly when he notices me looking at him. "Have I got a treat for you today."
I watch him, confused. But then from where he still stands behind the desk, he suddenly holds up the largest needle I've ever seen, the syringe filled with a bright blue liquid.
I gasp in fright. I've never seen anything like it. What are they going to put into me?
"Oh don't worry." He shakes his head sarcastically in assurance as he slowly starts walking over to me. "We're just going to spice things up a little it."
And with that he grabs a hold of my shoulder to press me down, not that I can move anyway, and stabs the needle right into the base of my neck making my eyes water.
It doesn't seem to do anything for a second, and he just pulled the needle out and watches me intently. But then all of a sudden a sharp, stinging pain forms in my shoulder and quickly spreads throughout my entire body, growing in intensity rapidly. I cry out in pain and eventually end up screaming because the agony that this thing is causing me is insane. It has taken over ever fibre of my being, it feels like every single one of my muscles are contracting and cramping, I'm blinded by the pain, deafened by my own screams. I squirm and wryth around in absolute agony, straining against the restraints, a renewed energy found in trying to get away from this thing. Until all of a sudden it all becomes too much and I black out.
~~~~
Our hands just touch, barely a skim of the leather of our gloves, before I feel the tattered metal give way from the side of the train and next thing I know I'm free falling. Everything seems to move in slow motion for a second as I take one last look at his face, the horror and heartbreak in his eyes all at once as I slip further and further out of reach and into the impossible.
The train is moving so fast - or maybe I'm falling so fast - that in a matter of second he's out of sight and instantly my mind switches to my family. How will they feel? I don't care about me. I clearly won't be around to miss them. But they will never get to see me again. No doubt they will mourn me. My daughter will never get to meet her father. My son, abandoned by one for a second time around. And my wife, left alone to deal with it all, to deal with life. I know how she feels about me, I know that it will be hard for her to carry on while the world continues to spin around her? How will they cope?
There's nothing I can do but let myself fall, the white sky soon turning into the canopy of trees. I hit something, probably a brunch, and am tossed tossed around. There is a large crack and a searing pain in my left shoulder. But I can't even cry out, the wind whipping over my face deafening me.
All of a sudden I plunge into an icy pool of fast moving water, the impact like concrete. And everything goes black.
~~~~
They drag me down the bright white corridor, my eyes still adjusting, my mind still buzzing numbly, although it seems to do that all the time now. It's like it's short circuiting or something. I can never form a complete thought. It gets so close, sitting just at the back of my mind, and then something else takes over again and it's gone from existence.
The way they treat me here, I've been in a situation like this before. Only it's different this time. It's worse. And they put my in that freezing chamber and pull me out when they want me. After that they do something to me and everything is just blank for a while. I don't remember any of it. They just shove me down in that chair, then I'm in a world of pain for a second and then it's like I'm transported through time and all of a sudden I'm just walking slowly back down the corridor with blood on my hands and anger in the pit of my stomach.
Before I know it we are in that god damned room again that leads to that chain of events. I don't resist, that only leads to punishment. They hold me down and strap me in, the strange metal contraption clamping onto my head. I can't even describe the pain, it's like electricity is coursing through my veins, sparking a fire in me. It goes on for far too long and when it's over i can't move. Just lying there, eyes closed in blackness as my breathing becomes heavy while I try to get it under control, my throat raw from screaming when I didn't even realise I was.
I manage to look at the doctor standing beside me just before he opens his mouth to speak.
"*Longing, Rusted, Seventeen, Daybreak, Furnace, Nine, Benign, Homecoming, One, Freightcar.*"