⚠️ TW: flashback; nightmare; brainwashing/mind control; SA; human trafficking; emesis ⚠️
Author's Note: This chapter was incredibly difficult to write...this was actually harder to put to paper than Réa's experiences with this same topic (which are my experiences). I got physically ill twice while writing this chapter...as I said, it was difficult. Bucky gave me the words...I just put them to paper.
If you would prefer to skip Bucky's flashback nightmare, scroll until you reach the regular, non-bold, non-italicised text.
Also: if you or someone you know needs help, please refer to the list of resources in the Author's Note (between Chapters 68 and 69). And please remember: regardless of your gender, your race, your age, your religion or creed, your attire, or anything else, you are NOT at fault. You are seen, you are believed, you are supported, and you are loved.
JANUARY 18, 2020 — AVENGERS COMPOUND — BUCKY
Steve and I are on the train; the HYDRA goon appears, and Steve shoves me behind him.
"Get down!" he yells as he holds up his shield.
The HYDRA goon fires, and the blue energy blast ricochets off Steve's shield and through the wall of the train car. Steve and I are both knocked down by the blast; I recover first, lifting the shield as Zola's voice comes over the intercom.
"Kill him, now!"
I fire my handgun at the enemy, but my bullets don't do any damage.
There's another blast of blue energy, and it collides with the shield, sending me flying through the hole in the train wall. I manage to grab onto one of the bars on the side of the train. Steve appears, shouting my name.
"Bucky!"
He climbs out onto some of the other bars, attempting to get to me.
"Hang on!"
He moves closer and stretches his left hand out toward me.
"Grab my hand!"
The bar I'm holding onto gives way, and I fall.
"No!" Steve shouts before the sounds of my screaming and the air rushing past me drown out everything else.
I slam onto the ground, but when I open my eyes, I don't see the snow-covered landscape of the Alps. Wherever I am is pitch black, quiet, and dank. I'm kneeling on a cold, hard surface—probably concrete—and my arms are restrained at the wrists.
Footsteps approach; a door opens and a light switches on.
"Здравствуй, Cолдат," a man speaks. (Zdravstuvy, Coldat. [Iz dravs-to-ee, Sol-dat.] – Hello, Soldier.)
I open my mouth to speak, but no sound comes out; before I can close it again, the man continues talking.
"Такая жадная штука...ты уже попрошайничество на нее." He pauses, his hands moving to the zipper of his pants as he approaches. (Takaya zhadnaya shtuka...ty uzhe poproshaynichestvo na neye. [Tah-kai-ah iz-jad-nigh-ah sh-too-kah...teh oozh-uh poe-pra-shy-nih-ches-too nah nee-yo.] – Such a greedy thing...you're already begging for it.)
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The Fall - Book 1
Fanfiction***Book 1 is complete; Book 2 picks up right where Book 1 ends!*** Réa, a half-human, half-Seraph, has spent her entire life locked in a tower, haunted by visions of a man in pain. Unbeknownst to her, this tortured soul is Bucky Barnes, the former W...
