James Buchanan Barnes Imagines

Lies of pain

You slowly climbed out of the back of the truck. The glass beneath you poked at your skin, like needles, they scrapped patterns along your arm and hands. The truck exploded, a fire sitting ontop of it, and the oil leaking from the side.

Another explosion hit, this time it was a full force release. The impact it had on you sent you another 5 feet away, you hit the ground with a thud, your body aching. Ears bleeding, your eyes red, your face covered in cuts, and the sirens in the back. Everything was muffled. The agents were dead, blood spilling from the now damaged and open back, onto the concrete ground. You felt like passing out, your mind became fuzzy, your body slowly became numb, the only thing on your mind was pain. How much pain was caused when they took you, how much pain was caused when you found out he was behind this, how much pain was caused when the truck exploded, everything in the last 7 hours were pain and pain alone. You had to push yourself, make it out alive, to keep living. But everything else was telling you to stay put, wait for death to come and finish you off. There was nothing left for you anyways. Who you thought was your friend, betrayed you, tried to secretly move you somewhere else, they put on a fake act, pretended to like you, and see you as a comfortable person in the Tower.

The smoke from the truck raised into the air, your body going limp as you gave in. Tiredness, near death, and pain all seemed to close in on you. Making your world darker and darker. Tears ran down your face, your throat sore from crying merely an hour ago. You thought it couldn't get any worse. Until HYDRA showed up, parking the car near you, one by one came out and pointed their guns at you. Two of them grabbed you by your arms, forcing you up off the ground. Your chin was gently lifted, eyes meeting with Rumlow.

"Aw, look. She's beaten up." He cooed, faking a pouty face as he forcefully slapped you, "Well suck it up. There's nothing left for you, no one to come and save you because no one cares enough. Just like the boss planned. You're ours now, like it or not."

He grinned wickedly before nodding his head to an agent. He was right. There was no one left for you to count on, you couldn't even count on yourself anymore. You ran out of ideas, out of options.

"Before we start heading back, I want to hear you. The beautiful sound- of your screaming." He spoke, grabbing an electrical rod.

You remember those things when they had you the last time, it shocked your entire body. They never showed mercy with it, sticking you however many times they wanted until they were satisfied. Your eyes widened, sudden horror and fear taking over your system.

"No....plea-"

He cut you off, jabbing the rod to your stomach and putting it on the highest setting. You screamed out in pain, eyes wide, your veins showing, and merciful prayers mixed with your painful screams sent out to whoever could hear you. He took it off your stomach, allowing you to catch your breath before he went again. This time, it hurt worse than ever before, blood leaking from your mouth down your neck, your head thrown back and your eyes squeezed shut. Your whole body tensed, the feeling of electricity running through your system. Your powers were practically drained by now, you knew it'd take a couple hours before they regain and you can try and do something, but for the moment all hope was lost. Finally taking it away, Rumlow chuckled at your weak expression, mocking your state before the agents began taking you to the back of the truck. They threw you in, your back hit the metal as soon as a gunshot was heard. You could barley open your eyes, everything in you and your body was depleted. You were holding onto what little energy you had, keeping your eyes open as long as you could.

The shots were heard for miles, multiple going off at once. Someone stepped into the truck, a light but audible whimper leaving them as they stepped closer. A pair of hands you placed on your shoulders as they sat you up right, you knew it wasn't HYDRA, it was to soft, to careful, for it to be them. One hand was cold and the other hand was warm, right then the little hope that had dissappeared came back again, at least for right now.