Saving Bucky (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Chapter 97 - Fooled

Despite the hood that covers your face you know exactly where you are. The Iron Hold was your home, after all. You know its halls. Its stairwells. And its elevators.

*Ding*

One ding. Not two. The golden elevators - the ones reserved for the Director and his inner circle. As the elevator starts to ascend, your pulse quickens.

They're not taking me to the interrogation rooms, you think to yourself. So where the hell are we going?

*Ding*

The doors slide open, nearly silent. Save for a faint groan of metal that you would recognize anywhere. It's the only floor with a catch in the door.

"Why are we up in the Keep?" you question from beneath the sack over your head, the fabric tickling your lips.

You get no answer, but the hand that grips your bicep tightens and pushes you roughly out of the elevator to the left. You swallow nervously.

This isn't what you anticipated.

It's not what you planned for.

You should be taken to another torture session below ground - in the interrogation cells. Maybe even an extraction room. And you should be with Steve. Your plan relies on being together - or at least being taken to Asmodai. And you sure as hell aren't being taken to wherever either man is. No, you know exactly where they're taking you. It's the only room of significance in this wing.

Your bedroom.

The hand around your bicep stops you in your tracks and reaches for your hands - ziptied together with thick, heavy duty plastic. The Spectre lays your hand on the scanner before ripping the bag off your head.

"Iris scanner," he grunts from beneath his mask - a single brown eye watching you skeptically.

You hold his gaze for a moment, searching for something - anything - that might tell you what's going on. But he doesn't flinch. Doesn't falter. He's been trained well.

"Scan," he demands, grabbing your hair and shoving your face in front of the scanner.

The scanner whirs, and your door panel flashes that familiar green. As the door slides open, you're almost relieved to be shoved inside. But the Spectre doesn't follow. Instead, he slams the door shut, leaving you in the dark. In the quiet you listen and wait. Surely you won't have been left in any type of comfort. Whatever sick game Asmodai is playing you need to figure it out. And fast. You squint, peering into the dark to make sure you really are alone. Satisfied that there is no one else in your quarters, you reach for the light switch and flip it on, stunned at what you find.

Your room is completely untouched.

Your fingers drift to the wall where the tear from James' knife remains - splintering the wood. You glance to the bed that remains unmade - the rips in the mattress from James' grip still on display as foam pieces litter the ground. The sheets are discarded, tangled and messy as they drape from the edge of the bed to the floor.

And there - in the middle of the mess - lies an empty, plastic pill bottle.

Asmodai is taunting you.

You jump as a loud crackle of static sounds from overhead and the speakers in the ceiling of your room come to life. You inhale sharply in surprise and take several steps back, glancing around for something that you can use as a weapon.

"Welcome back," a man's voice calls out - distorted through the aged speakers. Gabe had never used them, and their age shows in the quality of the audio. "Or, would you prefer 'welcome home'?"