𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒 ▸ bucky barnes [1]

7.

NOVEMBER 3, 1943
11:24 PM
HYDRA WEAPONS FACILITY, AUSTRIA

—

     VALERIE HAD LOST ALL CONCEPT OF TIME.

     She had received virtually no time to recover after her first round of experimentation with the serum, which now felt like months ago. The day after, she had been injected with a new serum again, the pain it brought impossibly more intense than the day before. Every day, she was injected, cut open, experimented on like a wild animal. Every day, the pain grew worse and worse to the point where she could barely move or speak. Every day, her hope of escape and her will to live dwindled bit by bit. The days melted into weeks, and then what felt like months.

     Bucky wasn't faring much better, either. After his tissues had been extracted, he, too, had started receiving rounds of the strange serum. And although Valerie thought she had it bad, Bucky appeared to have it much worse – within days of his treatment starting, he started screaming in his sleep, mumbling strange German phrases, and talking to people who weren't there.

     If Valerie was nothing more than a lab rat whose life could be tossed away at any moment, Bucky must have been the subject Zola actually saw potential in. And Valerie was scared for him.

     On the umpteenth day of being trapped in the lab, after another round of excruciating experimentation, Valerie laid splayed on her table, every inch of her body screaming in agony. Her leather binds which once had bound her tightly to the table had loosened over time due to her repeated thrashing, but it didn't pose any hope for her escape – she was too weak to even sit up, let alone get up and run.

     "Bucky," she whispered, her voice hoarse from screaming. "Bucky."

     He responded with a series of mumbled German words.

     Valerie's mind spun – had Zola been messing with his head? Her experimentation had been purely physical, but she was fairly sure she hadn't been spouting German in her sleep. Was Zola brainwashing Bucky?

     "Bucky," Valerie repeated, more firmly this time. "Can you hear me?"

     After a moment of silence, Bucky coughed. "Wah... Val?"

     "Yeah," Valerie mumbled, relieved. "How you holding up?"

     "Just..." Bucky sounded just as miserable as Valerie felt. "Just peachy."

     Valerie had been lifting her head up to try and look at Bucky, but after a moment, she flopped her head back onto the table in exhaustion. "Me too."

     Silence overtook the two once more. Weeks before, Bucky had somehow managed to keep the environment somewhat lighthearted, despite everything that had happened. He cracked jokes, flirted, and tried to engage in as much conversation with Valerie as he could. But after one night of a particularly harsh session of experimentation, he had changed. He had fallen silent, plagued by what appeared to be visions and nightmares. It wasn't until just then that Valerie realized how much she missed the normal Bucky – how much she valued him. That feeling gave her a deep sense of confusion.