Hawkeye: Agony

Drowning in Fire

It wasn't that I was lonely. We all were. It's a prison in the middle of the ocean; I didn't exactly think anything else would happen.
I was just..
I was deep. Sinking.
And whenever there was a moment outside the cell, well, he was there.

Wanda was always sent to places alone; I felt bad for the kid. Well, that's an understatement, I was terrified for her. I started to feel like her dad; started to fight guards to keep her safe. I even argued for her to move in to my cell. I didn't mind the cold floor: I was used to it from a childhood in the circus caravans.
But every time I was met with incoherent yelling down my empty earholes.

It won't be much of a surprise to you that the helplessness of being deaf, restrained, monitored, and physically feeling my body being sent underwater in an air-locked metal can...felt, well, drowning.
But surprisingly, I found escape from that in the showers. I know I know. But this was a different kind.

They wouldn't let me wear those new hearing aids anytime other than to talk to me. But between the bright lights of the cells, the constant cold temperature and the yelling - silence and a bit of pressured water is nice.
Drowning.
Losing all of the senses just to feel alone for a moment.
When I'm like this, though, it's hard to understand the concept of time. And I can't exactly say that the guards are patient.

A few weeks in, they decided to start using force as punishment. Not to drag me out by my balls. No.
Once I was out, I'd get beat. First a punch, then a few more.
Slowly, bruises started blackening from layers of fists - but it was worth it just for the moment of time that I could calm down.

Since Bucky and I were dragged off together most of the time, he started to notice the bruises. Then the scars on my back from the whips of the old animal tamers - then a bullet hole by my heart.

**

After a few months of our cycle of being punched, prodded, teased, interrogated: Bucky slowly taught himself little ways to help me out. Knocking signals to make me alert to different activities going down - the metal hand on metal bars causing a vibration that I could hear and see without paying attention - hearing aids or not.

On the particular day of my doppelganger appearing in New York, the guards decided to be more brutal than normal.
A punishment to a crime that I could have never committed.

**

'Check the damn cameras!' I yelled as a third punch made contact with my jaw.
'We could, if you hadn't scrambled them all.'
'Scrambled?? But_. I_. This is someone framing me..!'
'Framing would mean making you look worse, not better,' The guard let go so I slumped on to my knees at the foot of the table.
I looked up at the tablet with a squint.
'I.. don't know what to tell you.'
'Well you're being moved. Say goodbye to your friends. You're going to another floor.'

'What?!'
I whipped my head to see Bucky as he punched the bars, 'To hell with that! You can't prove nothin'!'
I hadn't heard his voice in a long time. He was ..confident. Where did that other guy go?
This James Barnes sounded a lot more like the one Phil had showed me at the Smithsonian.
He looked tired, like he'd been forcing himself to stay awake.
All those times I heard him knock at stupid hours.. Was he keeping guard of me and Wanda?

I smiled a bit, 'Hey, it's okay..'
He stared a little at me, 'This wasn't your fault to begin with..'
He'd come too. He remembers it all.
The true difference between James and Bucky, was one had a haze over their eyes that this guy didn't have.

'...One more night, please. Then I'll .. admit to all of this, if that's what you're really after.
To incriminate me?'
I looked past the guards at the old man in the corner of the room. I watched as General Ross walked out of the shadows.

'Oh you know I'd LOVE a written confession from you,' I watched Ross grin and then contemplate in that old windup brain of his. Cogs whirring.
'Alright, one night. A countdown usually breaks the spirits more, either way.'
Thaddeus Ross then walked over with heavy steps so that he could be the one to toss me by the collar back in to my cell, chuckling as the cuffs made me slide rather ungracefully across the tile floor; landing on my face.

He'd left the hearing aids with me, in his need to hurl me himself.

Once they'd all left, I could hear Bucky as he started to curse himself.
'Fuckin' idiot. Stupid Soldier!' He punched the only concrete wall hard enough that it would have cracked, if it wasn't waterlogged.
He didn't assume I'd hear him.

"This isn't your fault." I could hear both of their breaths give pause.
'...You heard that?'
'They left them in..'
...
...
Wow, I thought they'd be happy.

'You two don't need to try and fix this. Actually, I have a feeling this is my fault.
That really is my brother. So...he has to still be alive for a reason. Not just to mimic me.'
'Well, he wouldn't have been able to if you weren't in a cell.'
I could hear Bucky's smile. Like a mocking coo that he'd won the conversation.
It made me smile too, just enough to stop thinking all of the negatives that might be about to butterfly from Barney showing up.
'You should rest, you know. You didn't have to protect us...'
I could hear Bucky falter, like he didn't expect me to have figured that out with a short glimpse.
'You've had hearing for what? Like, two minutes and you're already ruining my plan?' Oh yeah, he's definitely smirking.
'Well, I kind of feel like I have to,' He muttered, 'You both didn't deserve this.'

I chuckled, 'You don't know just how much I need to be here..' I sighed but with a smile, glad I could take some of the burden on to my own shoulders, 'I've made enough mistakes to last me a lifetime.'
I looked up at the monitors outside of the cells, still flickering images of my brother.
'And I think this is one of them coming back to haunt me. Literally... He's a ghost. ...He has to be.' I stared into those unnatural aqua eyes with horror. That can't be him, right?

'Ghost?' A rough voice called from the shadowed corner where Ross was stood moments before.
'I don' know about that. I feel pretty real, lil bro.'
And just like that, I was lifting my face off of the ground, and looking into his eyes. His hair was still as red as a flame.
'Hey Clint,' And at the sound of my name, I wept like a child: As I'd done all of those years ago, at the foot of his lifeless body.