Insanity

Chapter 27

Song: Hurts Like Hell by Fleurie

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"How can I put it down into 
words, when it's almost 
too much for my soul alone?"

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Steve Rogers's entire body ached as he lay in the uncomfortable hospital bed, but it was nothing in comparison to the ache he felt deep in his heart.

What are they doing to him? Steve wondered, hundreds of terrible thoughts about what was happening to his best friend passing through his mind. Had they tortured him? Brainwashed him? Both at the same time? Whatever it was, it had to be something wickedly inhumane to mess him up that much.

Steve was supposed to be sleeping, but it just wasn't happening. Every time he closed his eyes, Steve still saw that haunting look in Bucky's eyes in that last moment he'd seen him before falling from the helicarrier. He didn't think the image would ever leave his brain. He'd never seen his friend so absolutely destroyed and terrified; not even when he was dangling from the freight car, about to fall to what Steve had thought for all of these years was his death. There had been nothing on Bucky's face but true, undeniable terror that would have been completely incomprehensible to anyone who didn't really know him. That look was something different entirely, and one Steve had never seen on another person, ever. One he hoped he'd never see again.

You're my mission. The words repeated in his head like a broken record, over and over again. To anyone else it may have sounded like he was just making a statement, but Steve felt it was something else entirely; he wondered if perhaps, his broken best friend had been repeating it to try and convince himself if was true. Maybe he'd been doubting himself after Steve spoke with him, telling him who he was. It was a long shot, sure, but he could hope, right?

It had to be at least a little true, anyway. Otherwise, how did he get out of that river? Someone strong had to have pulled him out, leaving him on the muddy embankment. And it had to have been someone who saw exactly where he fell, and the only person around at that time was Bucky. If that was true, if Bucky did pull him from the river just moments after trying to kill him, why?

Light from the hallway poured into the room as a nurse opened the door, a tray in her hands. She switched on the dim lights, illuminating the room in bright white light. "Good morning, Captain Rogers," she said, smiling. "I brought you some breakfast, figured we could try again today."

Steve gave a slight smile; it was all he could manage, seeing as anything more pulled at the stitches alongside his lip. "Thanks," he mumbled, his voice still hoarse. The food smelled amazing - scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast - but he hadn't been able to keep down any solid food since arriving here yesterday. His nurse told him that the doctors all claimed it was because of his injuries, but Steve knew that wasn't true. Any time he thought of Bucky his whole stomach twisted in knots and unfortunately for him, that was kind of all the time now.

Steve wasn't allowed to move hardly at all and the nurse had to sit on the edge of his bed, feeding him like a child. He was glad she was friendly, always keeping a bright look on her face despite having to feeding a man who looked like he'd been run over by a semitruck or ten.

He took a bite of the eggs, and immediately his stomach flipped, trying to reject the bite. He figured he must have made a face, because the nurse gave him a concerned look. "Not sitting well?" she asked, and he shook his head. The food, his thoughts, none of it was sitting well. "I figured that might happen," she said, swapping out the fork for a small paper cup, "so I brought some ice chips too."