A/N: HUGE thanks to everyone who left a review or followed/favorited this story. Also, congrats to Elcall who correctly guessed the next POV! Ten points to Slytherin! (Since I don't know your Hogwarts house or if you are even an HP fan, we are going with my house. XD) This was seriously one of my favorite chapters to write so far, so I hope you enjoy!
Chapter Four: Bucky Barnes
"Why are you staring at me?" Steve asks from where he is seated beside me.
I keep my expression blank as I deadpan, "What the hell is on your face?"
Steve scoffs in disbelief as his hand reaches up to rub at his chin. "It's called a beard, Bucky. Someday, when you become a man, you can have one too."
"Not likely," I reply. "I have something else."
"What's that?"
"Dignity."
Steve lets out a quiet laugh, and across the jet, still seated at the cockpit's controls, I see Tony Stark's spine stiffen. When my gaze returns to Steve's face, I see him staring at my arm.
"T'Challa?" he asks, all humor gone from his voice.
"Stark."
His eyes meet mine sharply, widening in surprise. "Tony built you that?"
I give a short nod, curling the metal fingers, the dim lights of the jet reflecting off the dark, metallic surface. Steve looks as stunned as I had been when I'd been forcefully awoken from cryogenic sleep in Wakanda.
I inhale deeply, warmth seeping into my icy bones in a sudden rush. There's a hiss of steam around me, and I am barely able to pry apart my heavy eyelids to blink at the room around me. Everything is blurred and bright, and my eyes burn with the strain of trying to focus.
"Easy," a deep voice murmurs. T'Challa.
The king places a hand on my shoulder, steadying me as my breaths begin to come faster, easier. I give my head a shake, trying to reorient myself. Relief is the first emotion to come to the surface. Relief, because I remember where I am and why I am here. Relief, because I am myself, and my first instinct isn't to attack the man beside me.
Hope comes next. If they've woken me, it means that perhaps they've found a way to eradicate the twisted layers of brainwashing from my head.
My vision begins to clear, and I look up at T'Challa's solemn face, giving him a nod. He moves his hand from my shoulder to my back, his other hand coming up to rest on the center of my chest, steadying me as I lean forward and step out of the cryo-tube.
I grunt softly, leaning against the king on unsteady legs as blood rushes suddenly through my unused limbs. I take a few breaths, blinking at the floor, before giving the king another nod, my dark hair swinging with the movement. He slowly moves his hands away from me, and I sway slightly, but am finally able to stand on my own.
I straighten and look up, blinking in surprise as I stare right into Tony Stark's face.
His fist slams into my jaw, pain crackling through my cheek and skull as I crash to the ground on my knees. My right arm shoots out to catch myself before my face smashes into the floor.
"Sorry," Stark says from where he is now crouched in front of me. "Had to get that out of my system."
The billionaire reaches out a hand to help me to my feet, and I look up at him through my hair before taking it.
"Fair enough," I say, my voice rough and hoarse with sleep. He helps me stand, and I catch sight of T'Challa's disapproving expression as he frowns at Stark. I look around now, seeing the woman behind Stark, a large silver case in her hand. The Black Widow, I realize, taking in the newly blonde hair softly curling around her solemn face. Natasha Romanov.
Steve is nowhere in sight.
Stark is somehow able to read the thought in my searching eyes, as he says. "Your boyfriend's in Brazil. We're picking him up next."
Unease curls in my gut. I can think of no other reason why they would be here, and plan on retrieving Steve, unless it is on orders from Ross, that they finally found us and plan on taking us in and locking us up in that godforsaken raft.
My eyes flick to T'Challa, my hand curling into a fist. Had he sold us out?
"Easy there, Tiny Tim," Stark says. "Quit giving his highness the stink eye. We found you all on our own."
I turn back to Stark, raising an eyebrow. "Tiny Tim was a cripple with a crutch, not a missing arm."
"Everyone's a critic," Stark murmurs, glancing back at Romanov in exasperation before meeting my eyes. "You know, there's only so many one armed fictional characters out there, and if you are anything like Cap, you aren't going to get any of my references."
"Maybe you should just get to the point," Romanov suggests with a pointed look.
"Fine. Okay then, Luke Skywalker, here's the deal," Stark's expression is wiped clean of any humor and is replaced with one of such intensity, I feel my muscles coiling with tension as he steps closer to me. "You owe me. Owe me big. So you're going to come with me to drag Rogers out of hiding, and then you both are going to help me. Got it?"
So Ross isn't behind this then. This is about something else. Some of my edginess eases slightly, but I still stare at him with a wary expression. "Help you with what?"
"You remember your old pals, Hydra, don't you?"
I stiffen, glancing between both of them. "What about them?"
"They took something of mine. And unless you want to see what happened to you happen to a fifteen year old kid, you're going to help me get him back," Stark answers shortly, and I can see the rage simmering in his brown eyes.
Though I try to stop it, there is no smothering the onslaught of images that shoot through my head at his words. Dark, horrible images of pain, of confusion, of violation. Things I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. My teeth clench so hard I think they will shatter.
A fifteen year old kid. I'd been twenty when I enlisted in the war and faced unimaginable horrors.
They're watching me, waiting for my answer.
"Don't you think I'd be more of a liability where Hydra is concerned?" I say finally. "All it would take is a handful of words for me to turn on you."
"I wouldn't worry about that," Stark folds his arms over his chest as Romanov strides forward and places the large case on the ground at my feet. She steps back, her sharp eyes watching me intently.
I glance at T'Challa, who's been watching the exchange without a word, and then I kneel, undoing the metal clasps and lifting the case open.
For a moment, I just stare at it.
The metal arm is nothing like the one Hydra built for me. It's made of thick, interlocking plates, all coated in a sheen of matte, black paint.
I look up at Stark, who kneels in front of me and leans close, a shadow passing over his face. "You take one step out of line," he says in a voice like steel. "You make one move against me or one of my own, and this arm will take you down faster than you can say do svidaniya. Got it?"
I nod. Of course Stark would build a bionic arm that would strangle me if I somehow turned. Any hope I still had that the Wakandan scientists had found a way to free my mind of Hydra control vanishes. But I am relieved that with this, at least I won't be able to hurt anyone else.
"Good," Stark rises, his voice lighter. "Let's go then. We'll install that on the way to get Rogers."
T'Challa shakes Stark's hand as I get to my feet, Romanov stepping forward to close and pick up the case. "Good luck," the king tells him. "And next time you sneak into my country without an invitation, I will shoot first, ask questions later."
"Fair enough," Stark says easily. "It's been a pleasure, your highness."
T'Challa turns next to me. "We have not given up on you yet, my friend. The answer is close, and when you return, we will help you take back your mind."
If I return, I think, and look away from the bionic limb.
"Bucky?" Steve's voice softly inquires. "You okay?"
"Fine," I answer.
I'm fine, I tell myself. I have to be.
Peter Parker
The first thing I am aware of when I come to is an awfully grating and constant squeaking sound. My teeth clench at the piercing noise, and beneath my closed eyelids, I can still see rhythmic flashes of insanely bright light followed by intense shadow.
I stifle a groan.
It's too much for my heightened senses, too much for my already throbbing and dizzy head. My tongue feels thick and dry, too large for my mouth. I want to roll over, want to bury my head beneath something, anything, to smother the sounds and the light.
But I can't.
I can't move at all.
Wriggling slightly, I can now feel thick, weighted straps across my chest, my thighs, my shins, pinning me down and keeping my limbs pressed tightly to my body. Even if I weren't strapped down, my body feels like it weighs an extra hundred pounds, and the effort it would take to even lift my hand would be astronomical.
My breath comes in quick, shallow pants as panic constricts my insides. Trapped. I'm trapped. I can't move. Why can't I move?
The sharp squeaking suddenly intensifies as my entire body changes direction in a sharp movement that makes my stomach lurch. I swallow down the violent wave of nausea.
Come on, Peter, I urge myself silently as my heart thuds way too fast in my heaving chest. Think. Take stock of your surroundings. You can do this. Just. Stay. Calm.
Easier said than done.
Still, I take a deep breath through my nose, wincing at every flash of light that sends spears of pain into my head. Strapped down. Moving. Squeaky wheels. Straps. I am tied down to a gurney. I'm being wheeled down a long hallway.
I inhale deeply again.
It smells sterile, too sterile, like bleach and cleaners and chemicals. The sharpness of the odors make my headache and nausea even worse.
Hospital?
No. It's silent. Silent, save for the horrible screeching wheels and the marching footsteps on the tile floor. Hospitals are never silent.
Why do I feel so sick, so disoriented? Why is it so hard to think, to move?
The gurney lurches as it turns again, and I have to clench my teeth to swallow the bile rising in my throat.
Come on, Peter, think, I order myself firmly. Remember.
School. I was in school and Ned-I was walking home with Ned. We were talking about something…something important…at least it felt important. Michelle! We were talking about MJ and then- then I was being followed.
The images begin to race through my mind's eye like some horribly vivid movie, and I feel like the gurney I am strapped to is spinning. My heart is galloping in my chest now, each beat more painful than the last.
I was captured. I was captured by Hydra. Freaking Hydra. Drugged. Taken. Now I had to be in one of their bases, one of their evil lairs.
Oh god.
This is wrong, so wrong on so many levels. This is huge, like Captain America huge. And I am just Peter Parker, just Spiderman, just the small time hero looking out for the little guy. I shouldn't be here. This shouldn't be happening.
The gurney jerks as it slams into something, sending shockwaves through my skull.
"Vorsichti," a sharp voice snaps nearby, startling me.
German. That was German. The realization suddenly makes this seem a hell of a lot more real, more terrifying.
"Setzen Sie ihn hierher."
The gurney stops suddenly. I don't know what will be worse; opening my eyes and seeing what is about to happen, or staying in the dark, waiting for the unknown.
My eyelids pry slowly open. I blink rapidly, my eyes watering from the intense light glaring down above me. I am shaking; my whole body is trembling, but I can't tell if it is from fear, or from the bone chilling cold of the room I am in.
Everything is slightly blurry, slightly doubled, my eyes unable to focus on anything for too long as they flit from one thing to another rapidly.
Holy shit.
It's like I've been dropped into a horror movie.
Dingy gray walls, stained concrete floors, massive machines that look like they've come from a hospital, and some that look like they came out of a mad scientist's lab…monitors and holographic screens, tables covered in medical equipment; vials, beakers, needles, knives…
It all hits me in a dizzying wave of information, an assault of spinning images and sounds and smells that overload my body with crushing panic.
Is this really happening?
"Er ist wach," the sharp voice comes from my left, and my head whips to the other side, my sight blurring in a wash of color from the movement.
When it clears slightly, I see an old man in a stark white coat looking down at me. At least, I think he's looking down at me. The harsh light coming from the ceiling is glaring on his glasses, and I can't see his eyes, just the stern cut of his mouth and his clean shaven jaw.
Icy cold fingers grip my chin, making me flinch violently. I am strapped down so tightly, I can't even pull away as he tilts my head this way and that, examining me with a frown. I flinch again as someone from my right leans over me. All I can see is their white coat as they attach wired circular monitors to my bare, sweat slicked chest.
"Nadel und spritze," the old man orders in a hard voice, letting go of my face. Someone comes up behind him, handing him a large syringe, the needle at the end of it glinting in the light.
"No, wait," I croak, my voice cracking. "Don't-"
Holding down my left arm with one hand, he slides the needle into the crook of my arm. I wince, my body jerking at the sudden, sharp pain. Horrified, I blink as my crimson blood begins to fill the vial at the other end of the syringe. I can't look away from the sight of my own blood, even as someone is strapping something around my other arm.
The old man removes the needle and syringe from my arm, holding the vial up to the light and tapping it gently. His face tilts down as he stares at me, the light glinting off his circular glasses.
"Lass uns anfangen," his voice is cold, clinical, and I swear I feel it shuddering down my spine as he repeats himself in English this time. "Let's begin."
A/N: DUN DUN DUN! :O Seriously, though, the biggest of all thanks to PippinStrange, who is by far the best beta in the world, and if you haven't read her story Down Came the Rain, what the heck are you still doing here? Go! Go read it now! It's insanely good. And guys, reviews are life, so thank you SO much if you've left me a review in the past, and please take a second to let me know your thoughts on this chapter! Lots of good stuff in store! Anyone want to try and guess the POV for the next chapter? Tell me your guess and your Hogwarts house if you know it, and I will award some points when I post the next chapter! ;)