Doll: A Bucky Barnes FanFiction

Issues

(AN: Warnings: Panic attack and mentions of anxiety related to PTSD)

"Kid, hey, kid!"

Elizabeth felt herself being shaken awake. It was now pitch black outside except for the faint glow of a lit building. Elizabeth sat up groggily, the events of the day all flooding back to her. She could feel the pain in her arm, but it had subsided substantially. The lens in her eye was analyzing everything around her, but she took a deep breath, allowing it to look around, seeing in the dark.

"Come on, they're letting us go to the bathroom, you should get up and stretch," it was Sam. One by one they were all let out of the van, each escorted by three armed guards. Elizabeth slid out of the van, being careful not to use her injured arm, and she felt Steve's hand quickly brush hers, giving it a squeeze as if to say 'I'm sorry.'

He was then ushered away, and Elizabeth went to the women's bathroom. It was an apparently abandoned rest stop. She could hear the cars flying by on the highway behind her, and she quickly went into one of the stalls that had been cleared by her guards. She shut the door behind her and took a deep breath, trying to ignore the aching of her bones.

Within seconds, the guards were urging her to hurry up, their rough German accents making Elizabeth scrunch her nose. She then exited the stall, the flushing sound echoing in the bathroom as she washed her hands, the eyes of her guards following her every move. Elizabeth rinsed off her face and before she knew it, she was back in the car with the men. This time, Steve had managed to get into the back seat with Elizabeth.

As the van took off once again, Elizabeth leaned her head against Steve's shoulder. She could feel him take a deep breath and lay his head on hers, just like they did in church when they were little children.

"What happened up there?" Elizabeth finally whispered.

"I got there and no one was there. I thought you two had gotten out until I spotted your note. God, I had prayed that you two had gotten out," he said, shaking his head and looking down at the ground.

"I couldn't find him, and I actually began to think that he did it," she said.

"He said he's innocent, Lizzie. I believe him," Steve lifted his head to look down at his sister, who was unmoving. He could sense her hesitation, and he sighed. "But do you?"

It was silent. It was clear to Steve that she just needed time to think, and he remained quiet for the rest of the drive. The drivers continued to switch off and on until the next morning, and Elizabeth slept until she woke up to the bright light, and the sound of Sam and T'Challa bickering in the front seat.

"So you like cats?" Sam said, looking at T'Challa, who sat unmoving beside him.

"Sam," Steve said, a warning in his voice.

"What? Dude shows up dressed like a cat, you don't want to know more?" Sam replied.

Elizabeth sighed, sitting up straight and looking over at Steve who was engrossed in asking T'Challa about his suit. She was tired of hearing them bicker, and all she wanted was to get out of the damn car. She ignored them as they spoke, choosing instead to look out the window as they approached a large building.

As they began to descend the ramp down into a large garage, she found herself beginning to breathe heavily. The concrete walls with no windows reminded her of her time in Siberia. She could feel her airway beginning to constrict, and she turned to Steve, who noticed her gasping for breath.

"Breathe, Lizzie, breathe, it's me. Everything's going to be okay, I promise," Steve said. "Focus on me."

Elizabeth listened to Steve, keeping her eyes glued to his face, she tried to fight off the feeling of overwhelming pain that came with being in a windowless, concrete building, but the flashes of her past were causing her to panic.