Chapter 17

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RECAP: Fury was working with HYDRA and killed/hacked JARVIS and hardcore played all the Avengers by turning Avengers tower into another HYDRA base. First off HYDRA could have probably pretty easily stopped Peter and Bucky from leaving however they 'failed' to do so. In that case it was a set up and the contacted Fury which was why he then found Bucky and Peter right away and just asked for their story then let them be instead of asking them more questions or locking them up for a while like he probably would have done considering Peter and Bucky are murders against their will.

(I bet you didn't see that coming) SORRY SORRY SORRY I'll stop being so evil now.

...

A cold hand clamps around my arm.

No.

He pulls out the needle.

I scream.

"BUCKY!" I yell as the man pulls me away from the group.

"PETER!" Bucky yells and tries to run forward.

A man dressed in black grabs him.

I jump and kick and scream.

It doesn't work.

Bucky jumps and kicks and screams.

It doesn't work.

"STOP! NO! PLEASE! I'M SORRY!" I yell.

Darkness.

Fear.

"It's to late for sorry," the man hisses.

The others try to run forward to help us too.

Men dressed in black surround them.

They are trapped.

I can hear the sound of the needle sinking into their flesh.

I can hear them dropping to the floor.

"STOP!" Bucky yells again.

"Nice to see you again Winter Soldier," The man hisses.

"BUCKY!" I scream again.

It is the only thing I can do.

I am weak.

I am defenseless.

Struggling is useless.

"So, PTR Spider 7125, or is it Spider-Man now?" The man cackles.

He lifts the silver needle next to my neck.

"NO!" I scream.

He inches it closer to my neck.

"Sweet dreams Spider,"

Pain.

Darkness.

...

I blink open my eyes.

Bucky.

I don't know where he is.

I don't know what they are doing to him.

I am in a medal chair.

Across from me I see a cart with knives on it.

I start shaking.

A medal structure come down from the ceiling.

It attaches to my head.

It hurts.

I scream.

I can imagine Bucky and I smiling at each other in our cell.

Listening to stories of the past.

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