Winter's Toy

4

      He pulled her away from the wall in one swift movement keeping her body pressed tightly to his. He dragged her to the up ended cot, smacking it down on all fours with his metal hand. She was twisting and turning desperately trying to free herself from his grasp, he lifted her a bit in his arm to make her struggle harder on her.
    "Please, don't." Fear laced her words, as she frantically tried to get loose. "Don't."
    He didn't respond, he just threw her on the hard cot, twisting as she landed, she smacked the back of her head on the wall. Her body instantly curled into a ball as her hands went to her head. The Winter Soldier looked down at the woman in his bed, her bruised and beaten body shaking, suddenly she tried to spring off the cot.
    He snagged her ankle before she was off, pulling her sharply back to the center.
    "Please, don't do this." She begged as he flipped her to face him. His emotionless eyes tracking her as she tried to push herself away from him. 
   "Quiet." He stated, looking down at her. Slowly she gave up, her eyes raising to meet his, her tear streak face met his.
    "Not this." Her voice had lowered, her chest heaving, slowly he reached out. The back of his finger traced down her jawline, he felt a twinge of something in his chest.
     "Clothes, off." He commanded, his eyes baring into her. Her body started to shake again as her eyes darted around the room, the Winter Soldier gripped her jaw tightly. He bent so his face was inches from hers. "Now!"
      Bucky shot straight up in his bed, a layer of sweat coating him. His chest rapidly rising and falling as he tried to suck in air. His eyes blinking hard, as he tried to shake the memory from his mind.
    "Fuck." He exclaimed, his body was tense, every muscle was humming with tension. He looked down at his lap, his cock rock hard seemingly knowing what came next.
     He felt disgusted with himself, he pushed himself out the bed. Quickly he threw on some work out clothes before leaving the darkened room. Quietly he walked out into the hall, quickly making it to the training room.
    Bucky hung a new punching bag, the first punch he threw tore open the split on his knuckle again. It didn't phase him, if anything he felt deserved it, and much more.
"No." She cried, looking at him with pleading eyes.
"Clothes off, now." His voice more demanding then the last time, his words cold.
Blood flowed from his hand as he continued to throw punch after punch into the bag, soaking the canvas crimson. Each punch was more forceful then the last.
"Please." She begged, the Winter Soldier pulled a knife from his belt flipping it as he did. Her eyes grew wide as she caught the glint of metal.
"Last time, clothes off."
The floor was splattered with his blood as he tore a hole in the bag. He glared at it, spinning on his heal, throwing a round house, snapping the chains that held it place as the sound of clothing being rip from his knife filled his mind.
He stalked over, blood falling on the new canvas bag as he bent to pick it up.
"No!"
He hung the bag, the chains creaked as he released the bag. He took up his stance, punch.
"Please, no."
Her cries driving him to continue the unrelenting assault on the bag, tearing it with the first punch. Bucky didn't stop, his fist soaking the bag as the sand spilled to the floor, soaking up the blood at his feet.

       You walked the crowded subway station, always glancing over your shoulder. Hand at your hip as you moved through the throng of people, it was a situation similar to this that made you loose ten years of your life.
     You hadn't even felt the hypodermic needle when it jabbed you in the side. It wasn't till after your were on train, slipping in and out of consciousness you realized that something had been wrong. It was your first night in Moscow, and your friends wanted to stay at the hotel and party it up. Not you though, you wanted to see the sights. 
     You were on your return trip home. You shutter at the memory. Men speaking in Russian, you trying desperately to pull yourself out of their grasp. Trying so desperately to get your arms and legs to move. But that was a lifetime ago and this was now.
     You took a deep breath as you boarded the subway car, trying to steel your nerves. You stood in the corner of the car as people packed on like fish in a sardine can. Hand at your hip, resting on the hilt of your knife. Determined to be anything but a victim of your memories.
     "I want you to take this." He said, handing you the small knife. You looked down at the hilt of the blade as he held it out.
    "Why?" You asked, looking back up meeting his blue gaze.
    "To protect yourself, always keep it in your waist band, easy to get to." He said, grasping your hand with his, pushing the hilt into your palm.
    "But.." you looked down as your fingers instinctively wrapped around it.
    "I want you to keep it. That way I know you'll always be safe." You could never read him, it was like looking at a blank canvas. Even now, years after being in the cold room with him.
     "When will you be back?" You asked, you always hated it when he left.
      "I don't know, but I do know if I come back, I won't remember you. If that happens, promise to kill me." He said, taking a step into you. The Winter Soldier wrapped his arms around your shoulders, placing a gentle kiss on your temple.
    "Why? I don't want to kill you." Your voice quivered, as you wrapped your arms around his waist.
     "They'll wipe my memories, I'm beginning to remember too much. There was a man, on the bridge the other day, he called me Bucky. I think I knew him." He whispered to you. "And if I come back, I'll be like I was in the beginning and I don't want you to go through that again."
     "Then don't leave." A hot tear streaked down your face, you couldn't stand the thought of loosing the only person you knew for the last nine years.
    "I have to, doll." He stated, pulling back. "Otherwise they'll kill us both."