Part Two: Little Experiments

Prologue – Russia 1946

He'd felt pain before but never like this. The numbness of whatever drugs they had given him was wearing off, and he could feel a sharp pain in his left arm. It felt heavier too as if weighed down by lead. He could only pull vague memories from the last few days. He remembered pain and fear mingled with confusion. He remembered vague images of men dressed in white and a face he'd thought he'd never see again. There were other memories from further back. A train, a fall, someone calling out his name as he slipped away from his reach. He didn't know how long ago that had happened. Somehow he couldn't quite grasp names or places or concise events. He couldn't even remember his own name. A set of numbers came unbidden into his mind though he couldn't say what they meant. 23557. He tried to force himself to remember, force his way past the fog that filled his mind.

He remembered a man with blonde hair and blue eyes. He was the one calling out his name, reaching for him as he clung to the side of a moving train. He couldn't remember why he'd been on the train. He only knew that he cared a great deal for this man. Another memory sprung into his mind. This time he was at a bar. The outskirts of the memory were blurry, but the same man was there dressed in a crisp Army outfit. So was he. They were in the Army.

"Are you ready to follow Captain America into the jaws of death?" the man asked, smiling. He looked a little nervous as if he was afraid his friend would say no.

"No, but that little guy from Brooklyn who was too dumb to run away from a fight. I'd follow him." His friend had beamed at his reply. So they were from Brooklyn.

His thoughts travelled back to New York. There'd been an exposition of some sort. Something about the World of Tomorrow. His blonde-haired friend was there, but he looked different. He was smaller with none of the muscles he'd had later. He sported a bruise on his cheek as if he'd been in a fight. I was always getting him out of fights. His friend had wanted to join the war so badly but no one would give him a chance. They gave me a chance. He remembered a title. Sergeant. He'd been a Sergeant. Sergeant Barnes. That's what the man with the awful face had called him, the one who haunted his nightmares.

He was back on the train, clinging for his life. His friend shouted his name, and he could hear it now. "Bucky!" His name was Bucky. James Buchanan Barnes of the 107th Infantry. He remembered now. And his friend was Steve. Steve Rogers, his best friend from Brooklyn who had later become Captain America after receiving an experimental serum and joining the war. How could he have forgotten Steve?

He opened his eyes and the room appeared in a blurry form. He lifted his heavy arm, gazing at the shiny material that now replaced his skin. It was metal. He clenched his fists, and the metal joints moved seamlessly. He became aware of the men in the room dressed in white lab coats. One approached him, and Bucky lashed out with his metal arm, catching the man around the throat and squeezing. He choked, grasping at the metal hand. The other men ran forward to force Bucky to let go. Finally he released the man, and they struggled to pin him back down, strapping his arms so he could not move.

"The process is nearly complete," came a voice from across the room and the man from his nightmares stepped into his line of sight. Zola. The man who had experimented on him after he'd been taken prisoner by Hydra. How had he found him again? How had Bucky even survived that fall? It occurred to him that whatever experiments Zola had conducted on him might have helped him survive. Right now he wondered if he wouldn't have been better off dead. Somehow he knew Steve wasn't coming this time. Steve thought he was dead.

"You shall be the new face of Hydra," Zola told him, leering down at him from behind too-thick glasses.

Bucky's throat was parched, but he choked out a response. "Never."

Zola smiled. "I was afraid you would say that. Don't worry. When we're done here, you won't remember a thing. Not even your name."

Bucky struggled against his bonds, but he could not move. Zola approached with a machine, placing it around his head. Bucky continued to struggle. He would never stop fighting against Zola and Hydra. He thought of Steve and struggled harder, straining against his bonds until the skin on his right arm chaffed.

"This will only hurt for a moment," Zola said as he clicked on the machine. Suddenly Bucky's body was jolted as an electrical shock went through his head. His body stiffened in pain, and he arched his back upward. It was pure agony. His skull felt as if it would crack open but then the pain stopped as abruptly as it had started. He was breathing hard, sweat running down his forehead. It burned his eyes.

"Now then subject 23557, are you ready to join Hydra?"

He didn't answer, couldn't answer. His mind was muddled, fighting to remember everything that the pain had driven away. Hydra. He'd heard the name before. He knew it wasn't something he would ever join.

"No," he grated out, clenching his teeth.

The man with the glasses frowned. His name had slipped from his mind again. "Clearly we still have some work to do." He started up the machine again, and the electrical surge struck him again. This time it was worse. White, hot pain laced his body until his mind was numb. Empty.

"Are you ready to serve Hydra?" the man in front of him asked.

He knew he would feel more pain if he did not answer correctly. He no longer knew what the correct answer was so he nodded. Anything to stop the pain. The man smiled. "He is ready," he told the white-coated men in the room. "Put him on ice."

He didn't know what the man meant. The white-coats unstrapped him, pulling him to his unsteady feet. He was ushered to a metal door and pushed inside. He didn't know what was happening, but suddenly his mind was screaming at him to get out. He flexed his metal arm as the cold air hit him. He realized in that instant what 'put him on ice' meant. He reached out a hand, but it was too late. The ice had taken hold of his body. His eyes flickered shut, and his mind lost all consciousness. He was sinking deeper and deeper, falling into a nightmare of ice and cold and nothing else. The darkness took over, and he forgot everything.