Secretive - Bucky Barnes

56 || Not Entirely Worked Out

[James]
The headaches eased as soon as the gates closed, which approximately has been five hours ago. I do not know where we flew to, but when we finally landed and I was commanded to follow, I saw nothing other than a huge, dark hall I have been escorted into. 

I do not want to know how much this asked from Nova. I know she has had her complications with her own method, has known of the risk coming with it. It is not that daily to burn the smallest part of someone's brain. 

Nonetheless, she did it, because she knew I would rather die than be in Hydra's control again. Knew I would rather drive down the highway to hell on anothet reality.

Even though she would break her own heart if it did not work the way she planned it to, she did it. For my sake.

And it worked.

It has been one hell of a headache and slaps and punches for me for crouching like a coward with no visible source for pain, but it worked. Like waking up from a dream, snapping out of it, as soon as she has been through, I have been myself again. Had my own will again, my mind. Could think, talk, act for myself. I could not have been more grateful, although never has something ever hurt as much as this. I can now understand the agony she put Jonas through with burning his appendix. God, I will never get over her danger and the fact I am the only one to control it.

They brought me through several corridors into some chamber resembling an interrogation room, ordered me to sit down. Of course, I know I cannot simply 'spill the tea', as Nova would declare it, and fight them, let them know the trigger does not work in the least anymore. It would lead to a chaos I could not master, so, no, I could not step out of line for now.

The room is dark, the only light coming from a small, yellowish bulb above the middle of the room, a little in my front. It shines onto the simple desk my hands lay on, and I face one of these one-way-mirrors, staring blankly into my front like I would be under their command, or at least, how I expect myself to be. I still wear my fighting gear, although every weapon has been taken away from me for several security purposes and probably, to stock their own lines. I feel naked without them, helpless, but there is no chance I would let them see this, either.

Right in that second, it sets in. I knew the entire time Nova was uneasy but still a little calmed down knowing I was living, it all had worked out as planned and she has to have a little less worries, but still, I can feel her inner panic like it was my own. And honestly, if it was the other way around, I would feel nothing less, nothing else. The mere thought of her in danger and my hands more or less cuffed is breaking me from the inside.

But now, there is something else vibing from her, something unnerving. Her feelings are far from as strong as mine, but still, I can feel every single difference, if it is only a spark. This now rather equals an explosion. Something she knew already, but now really concentrates on and not represses anymore. And it hits her, hard. Making her drown.

I want nothing more than to be with her, hold her, sort this whatever out, pull her out of the water, but I cannot, and this is what drives me more nuts than being captivated by Hydra, again.

Being granted no more time to try and concentrate about whatever is happening inside her, the thick metal door opens, and no surprise, Schmidt himself is the first to enter the room. I may not move in the slightest, but his strong aftershave has found its own place in my memories since I stood right next to him in the airplane.

Making out another person, before I can even blink, a third, and chicken breast with salad is served right below my nose.

It is so hard not to glance towards them in entire confusion.