Captain America Bucky Barnes Winter Soldier Steve Rogers Fan Fic - The Constant

Chapter Ninety-Six: Bucky Barnes - Isolation

Bucky Barnes – Isolation

The three men look into the room that holds their prisoner. He is unconscious. Anyone with that amount of sedative shot into them would be out for days; and even Bucky Barnes should be out for at least twenty-four hours.

"So, it begins," the first man turns and looks at the other two.

One nods, the other replies "I guess it does."

"Is everything ready?" The first man asks and the dark-haired man nods.

"A little finessing is required but then we are good to go."

The man turns back, "No going back now...poor bastard."

*

James Barnes tries to open his eyes but then immediately needs to close them again. He groans, not sure if it because his head hurts or because he has been in this position so many times before – opening his eyes to find himself in a strange room.

He reaches up and rubs his forehead, trying to remember what happened. He had been in the prison cell. The guard was in danger – no that's not right, the guard was the danger and then Bucky's eyes open again.

Hydra.

"No. Please," his voice is a desperate whisper. He looks at the ceiling, trying to get his thoughts in order and notices the ceiling looks strange. He realises after a moment that it is because there is no light fitting; in fact there is nothing attached to the ceiling at all. He turns his head sideways to see where the light is coming from. At the top of each wall is a recessed panel and the light is coming from those. There are no windows in the room at all.

He takes a deep breath because he can feel a blind panic starting in his chest. Hydra have me back. Memories of the wiping force their way to the front and he can feel the pain as his mind is torn apart, he can even smell the leather of the chair. He feels hot, sick... but then the Solider is there, talking him down.

Breathe, take it easy. Let's take this one moment at a time. Scout, reconnaissance, think! And as much as he hates this aspect of himself, he appreciates the calming influence it is trying to dictate. That for once it is trying to helping him.

He sits up, turning as he does. His head feels as if it is full of loose gravel, and his neck grates as he tries to look up. He aches. His muscles have lain in the same position for more than a day, but he doesn't know that. He has been lying on top of a double bed. He sits on the side, head in his hands to try and stop the dizziness.

For a few seconds a memory triggers - he can hear a young, pre-serum Steve telling him that it's his own fault for drinking too much. He looks up now, but he is alone. It was just a memory that showed itself and then fled. He tries to recapture it. He had stayed over at the apartment with Steve after a heavy night of drinking. The next morning he had sat on the edge of the bed, groaning. "Drink this," and Steve had shoved a drink of water into his hand, trying not to smirk. Bucky couldn't even face the water but Steve had made him drink it. For such a small individual Steve could make Bucky do anything – anything.

"Still can if I'm honest," he murmurs.

"Oh for fuck's sake. Quit daydreaming," the Soldier growls in his mind, but Bucky does not want to leave the memory, does not want to lose Steve.

"Leave me alone," Bucky growls back, quietly. A stranger watching him would be confused to see him speaking when there is no one else present. But his friends would be able to tell them, Steve and Freya would be able to tell them.

Still, it isn't alcohol that has caused this; rather four tranquilliser darts shot into him at close range. He bets he still has the bruising to show for it.