(A/N) Still sick, but seem to be recovering. Cinnamon, I do believe your confusion ought to be cleared up in this first scene. Mudkipz, yeah, I've heard of that. No worries, I never had any intention of watching it…and now I suppose, rather than zero intention, I have negative five intentions of watching it.
To Have and To Hold
Chapter 11: Until Death
It was night by the time Steve came all the way around. He sat up slowly, finding that he'd been lying beside a campfire. Bruce and Clint looked over when he sat up.
"Evening, Sleeping Beauty," Clint greeted, passing him a large cut of meat that seemed to still be on the bone. Steve tore into the offering, mindless of what it actually was or whether or not it was properly cooked. It didn't take him long to devour it.
"How long have I been out?" he asked as Bruce passed him a canteen, which took a great deal of his discipline not to drain in one go.
"A few hours. Banner brought us in after the plane went down. I dunno what happened back there, but it must've been a doozey to keep you under this long."
"I'm sorry," he said, setting the canteen aside. "We were shot down because of me."
"No sweat…especially if, as you said before, you know where they are," he said, raising his eyebrows in interest.
"Berlin," he answered right away. "They're in a compound just outside the city."
"So Germany was right…and how did you find that out?" Clint asked, eyeing him out of the corner of his eye.
Steve stared into the fire for several moments before answering. "I…I think…Bucky linked with me."
"What? Do you mean, like…telepathically?" Bruce asked.
"Yeah…he always said it was something he wouldn't do…because Loki used to do it to him…but if they had no other choice, then…" he trailed off, unable to finish.
"Are they all right?" Clint pressed.
"We don't have a lot of time. They're gonna take Zasha. It's gonna happen soon. They aren't gonna wait the full nine months."
"But it…it isn't time yet," Clint protested. "It's too soon. She'll die."
Bruce shook his head. "They don't mean for her to die, Barton. With the right equipment, viability's coming earlier and earlier all the time."
"We need to clear out as soon as we can. Where are we?" Steve asked them.
"In a forest a few miles from the coast. Haven't had much chance to scout. We're gonna need to scope out some kind of transportation if we're gonna get there in time. They're…they're not hurting them, though? It's just this viability deadline we have to worry about?"
"Natasha's fine," Steve answered, not looking at him.
"And Barnes?"
"Bucky…he…"
Steve thought he knew what Bucky had inadvertently shown him. Loki had shown him similar scenes. The trouble was he didn't want to believe it…that his enemies would do these things to his best friend…his love…just because of the way he felt about him…just to get to him. Why couldn't they just hurt him? Why did they have to take it out on Bucky?
Because that's the one pain you can't endure…the one thing you can't bear, he answered himself.
Bucky told himself he could withstand this kind of torture, but Steve could see the truth of it in his eyes…in his heart. James Buchanan Barnes was breaking…and he was fast running out of time to save him.
"They're hurting him," he finally answered. "We have to get them out."
XxX
It was several days before Bucky and Natasha were brought out of the cell again. They were taken to a dojo-style room and Bucky was pushed to the center while Natasha was held on the sidelines.
"So what's the deal, evil overlords?" he asked the mostly empty room. A few minutes passed before the 'evil overlords' entered from the opposite side of the room. Schmidt and Dreykoff kept their distance from each other, but they were both surrounded by their own entourages. Schmidt was accompanied by three of his Own, the two women, Skadi and Astrid, and whom Bucky thought he recognized as Alrik. It was difficult to tell, as the three were exactly as Coulson had described. Physically, they were all much more impressive, but their skin had changed to an eerie white color. Skadi's previously short brown hair was white, as was Astrid's formerly long blonde mane. To top it off, they all three had yellow eyes. The whites had shifted to yellow and the formerly red irises to black.
Dreykoff was accompanied by four others Bucky had never seen before. Two young men and a girl who wasn't quite a woman…the last of them was an even younger boy, some kind of Asian, by the look of him.
"'The deal', Agent Barnes, is that we decide who should be receiving the Schmidt woman's serum," Dreykoff answered. So these four kids were the Red Room's oldest initiates…only Coulson had said the oldest three were definitely in, so…the boy, then. Indeed, he was the one to step forward.
"James Barnes, this is Makoto Kajiura, fourth among my students, and I am interested in evaluating how he performs against you," Dreykoff explained.
"You guys are kidding, right? I'm not gonna fight this kid. He's…what? Twelve?"
"Fourteen," Makoto corrected, only slightly perturbed.
"Barnes, don't be noble," Natasha warned him. "If he's older than thirteen, he can definitely take you."
Bucky took a second look at his would-be opponent, reevaluating the situation. Makoto was small, but he was very well muscled for his age. Clearly, he'd trained hard. He wasn't posturing, either, spouting threats as boys tended to do. He just stood, evaluating him in turn. This boy was a trained fighter, to be certain…but he was still a boy.
Dreykoff snapped, and almost before Bucky could blink, Makoto sprang into action. Strong? Not so much. Fast? Damn straight. The kid was like a whirlwind, moving everywhere at once, delivering harsh, jabbing blows unlike anything the former mercenary had seen before. Had he been any other opponent, this would have been a devastating opening move.
He wasn't just anyone, though. He was Bucky Barnes…the Winter Soldier…a product of Loki's torture chamber. Makoto's blows were more like mosquito bites to him, so he bore the onslaught with patience, forcing the boy to exert himself. When he took a step back to reevaluate his situation, Bucky moved forward, delivering a hard blow to the boy's gut, being careful to only use his flesh arm
Makoto cried out as he went down, hitting the ground and skidding several feet.
"You okay, kid?" Bucky asked, deciding that the glare the little Japanese boy threw him was answer enough. Then, Bucky sprang into his own plan. It was a stupid move, and it wouldn't accomplish much in the end, but it at least made him feel like he was doing something.
Bucky leapt at Schmidt, wrestling him to the ground before either he or his three acolytes could react.
"Give me my ring back!" he demanded, delivering a satisfying blow to the German's face.
More than anything else, Schmidt was angry at being caught off guard. Snarling, he fought back, wrestling with his prisoner for several minutes.
"You want me to give you a ring? Is that what I'm hearing from you, James?" he mocked.
"You fuckin' know what I mean, you bastard!" he shouted, scrabbling for the silver ring on his captor's finger, which he kept out of his reach.
"The only way you're getting this back is over this woman's dead body," he continued to snarl, finally ending up on top in the impromptu wrestling match. That was the moment something thick and slimy wrapped itself around Bucky's throat.
At first, both combatants were confused. The thing seemed to come from nowhere….but then they followed the line of what was clearly a tentacle until it connected with Schmidt's back…having burst out of the leather top.
"Oh…" Schmidt murmured, a small note of excitement in his voice as he flexed the new appendage experimentally, drawing a strangled sound from Bucky's throat. "This is new…"
"Sir, it…it must be the mark…the HYDRA symbol on your back," Skadi said.
"Oh, yeess," he hissed as two new tentacles burst from his back, slithering around to capture more of Bucky's limbs, pinning him down. "I like this. Is this what you were afraid of, Sinthea?"
All told, there were six tentacles…six slimy, wriggling, living tentacles…that extended from the mark on Schmidt's back, and by the time he'd gotten them all out in the open, Bucky was thoroughly imprisoned in their embrace…in more ways than the former mercenary cared to think about.
"Leave if you wish…or stay and watch," Schmidt announced to the room at large as Bucky struggled against the tentacles, "but I think the good sergeant and I are going to try a little experiment. These new appendages of mine must be properly tested, after all."
"Sometimes you make me wonder, Schmidt. You really do," Dreykoff said before turning and heading out. The initiates all followed…except for Makoto, who cast one last odd look at his former opponent before scurrying after the others.
Natasha looked torn for a moment before Bucky briefly managed to catch her gaze, shaking his head. No, there was nothing she could do about this, and no, he didn't want her to watch. This was a torture he would rather endure in private, if at all possible. What Schmidt was clearly about to do to him…
Natasha turned away, indicating to the two guards she didn't want to watch. One almost looked interested in staying, but the other gave him a small punch in the shoulder, shaking his head. No, that one definitely didn't want to hang around.
The three acolytes were the only ones who didn't leave. They simply backed off, giving their leader the space he needed to have his way, leaving Bucky to struggle futilely against the nest of writhing tentacles.
Bucky didn't scream out loud; there was just no point to it. His pride didn't keep him from screaming inside his head, though.
XxX
The set up of the 2R cellblock was fairly simple. It began with the ten cells that housed the initiates. Five cells on the right for the boys and five on the left for the girls. It was a design that helped to degrade the ego and shame of the initiates. There was never any privacy. Each cell always looked in on the other. The rows of five weren't even hidden from each other. The walls between them consisted of bars. Only one cell on the girls' side was currently unoccupied…the cell that would be meant to contain Zasha.
Beyond the initiates' block were the closed off cells, like the one Bucky and Natasha were held in. Theirs was the one closest to the initiates' block, and if there were other prisoners being held in the sealed block, Natasha had never seen them.
The entire cellblock was sealed off from the rest of the compound, with only one way in or out. Once her two guards had gotten Natasha back to the cellblock, the second guard was so antsy, he seemed ready to piss himself. The first one sighed in disgusted frustration.
"Fine," he growled. "Go back and watch. You can always say you wanted to make sure he gets back to the block once that sick fuck's done with him."
The guard scurried off, leaving Natasha alone with the first. Instantly, the Black Widow put on a submissive air.
"Do you really need to put me back in the cell already? I really need to stretch my legs," she said, going more for helpless than coy, as she usually would. At six months' pregnant, she wore helpless much better than she did sexy right now.
The guard glanced from side to side, appraising the block. Most of the initiates were currently out in the compound for some type of training or other. The only occupied cell at the moment was the youngest girl…Eve. While interaction between the initiates was strictly controlled, any other type of interaction was a little fuzzier.
"I guess you can stay out while we wait for the Skull's toy. Just so long as you don't leave the block," he said before heading back toward the front of the block to guard the exit, leaving Natasha alone.
Once the guard was out of sight, Natasha moved toward little Eve's cell, sitting down in front of it. The girl was curled up on her cot, facing the back wall of the cell.
"Little one?" she called softly, placing a hand on the bars. "Do you know your name?"
Slowly, Eve rolled over to face her, her long blonde curls mussed and tangled.
"Rot…rot Zimmer?" she asked in German, her voice quiet…fearful.
Natasha shook her head. "Nein," she answered. She was most definitely not Red Room.
As slowly as she'd rolled over, the girl nodded her head, her eyes wide and uncertain. "Eve," she answered, her tiny voice little more than a whisper.
"Das ist gut," Natasha reassured her, trying to keep the surprise out of her expression. Somehow, the name conditioning hadn't taken hold with this one. If it had, she would have already been trained to respond only with 'Dreykoff's Daughter' when asked her name.
"What are you doing?" a new voice demanded. Natasha looked up to see the boy from earlier coming down the block…Makoto. He was walking slightly hunched over, a hand held protectively over his stomach…probably the result of Bucky's attack, but at least he was still moving, much more than a lot of people who had taken a direct hit from the former Winter Soldier could say.
"Just talking to Eve here," the Black Widow answered, being careful not to make any sudden moves, though she did see movement out of the corner of her eye. Eve had jumped up from the cot and run to the bars, reaching a hand through.
"Mako!" she called, her voice still quiet, but full of excitement and warmth.
"Evie, you have to be careful," he said as he came to kneel beside Natasha, clasping the hand the little girl held out to him. "We don't know who might be watching."
"But it's okay," she insisted, switching to English. "She's not one of them."
"I'm not," Natasha attempted to reassure the boy, who was eyeing her suspiciously as he reached through the bars to hug Eve. "I was one of theirs before…but I got out."
"We'll see. Do you know your name?" he asked her, putting forth the old conditioning question.
"Natasha Romanoff. Do you know your name?" she returned. At fourteen, any name should have long been conditioned out of him…but he seemed to somehow still hold some affection for this little girl.
"Dreyk-" he began automatically before managing to catch himself. For a moment, he shut his eyes, keeping a fast hold on the easy phrase he wanted to let spill from his mouth, but he ultimately looked up at Natasha, meeting her probing gaze. "Makoto," he said slowly. "Makoto Kajiura."
"And how do you still know your name?" Natasha pressed.
"I had a little sister…before they brought me here. I'd forgotten about her…but then they brought Evie in about a year ago, just when they were giving me mobility. She made me remember," the boy explained, affectionately ruffling the little girl's curls.
Natasha knew what he meant. It varied between initiates, but mobility was typically granted at about thirteen years of age. At that age, it was assumed an initiate had been in the Red Room's care long enough that there wasn't a need to keep him or her under such strict guard anymore. While they continued to live in the cellblock, they had more freedom to come and go as they liked once mobility was granted. Somehow, little Evie had managed to wake Mako up from the conditioning that had been inflicted on him…and he was keeping it from taking hold with her.
"Mako, are you okay?" Eve asked, seeing the way her surrogate brother winced as he crouched there with them.
"I'm fine…just a little rough training."
"A little rough?" Natasha repeated incredulously, but Mako shot a look at her, shaking his head, telling her without words he didn't want to scare the little girl.
Natasha was about to ask more when a loud clang sounded from the entrance to the block. All three turned to look, seeing Bucky stumble out of the semi-darkness several minutes later.
"Barnes!" Natasha cried out, getting to her feet as fast as she could…just in time for Bucky to collapse against her, sending them both to the floor.
"Sorry 'bout that…Natasha," he groaned, his head pillowed against her stomach. "Don't think I…can stand…anymore."
"Shh…it's all right," the spy soothed him, almost as if he were a child who'd had a bad dream.
Bucky looked worse than all the times before when he'd returned from a session with Schmidt. There were several angry black and blue marks on his skin from where the tentacles had wrapped too tightly. He at least had his pants back on, but the way they were stained spoke louder than if he'd come to them naked. The cloth at the inner thighs was soaked with red and smeared with other fluids Natasha didn't really want to think about. There was no point in asking what Schmidt had done. The answer could be seen all over his wasted body.
There really is going to be Hell to pay when Steve finally shows up, Natasha couldn't help but think. Even though it wouldn't take Bucky more than a day or so to heal up from this, it would still mark him in some way…scar him…as all these experiences inevitably did.
"They'll come…to lock us up…in a few minutes," Bucky rasped out, his throat absolutely wrecked, not from screaming, but from having a tentacle shoved down it. "I think…that pervert guard…just wanted…to scare you a bit."
"Hey, stop talking, okay?" Natasha scolded him, brushing some of the grimy hair from his sweat-streaked face. "I get it. Just rest for now. Rest…it'll all be over soon," she continued to soothe, hoping…praying…with every atom of her being it was true. Bucky was strong, yes…but how much more of this could he withstand?
XxX
Sinthea had been disgusted by the things her grandfather had done with her body from the moment his mind had first touched hers, but nothing had been more horrifying than what he'd done when the tentacles had burst from his back. Every time he took Bucky, it wasn't just him that he hurt; he was raping two people.
When it was over, Schmidt had been able to will the appendages back into tattoo form, leaving Bucky for some of the guards to clean up while he headed to the infusion chamber. It was, after all, the day they would begin infusion work on the initiates.
It's exactly what I was afraid of, she said to her captor as they moved through the corridors.
"What?" he asked.
That the serum would manifest your consciousness this way. It's what you are, after all…this disgusting creature…a parasite in my body! You'll never be anything but hideous when manifested by this serum, Red Skull!
"Perhaps not," he said, the grin on his lips tight. "But if that is the price to be paid for this power, then so be it."
And the initiates don't get a choice one way or the other? Just like your Own had no choice?
"My followers want only to become stronger in my service. They have no purpose…other than to see me succeed. They are part of something larger, you see."
God, Gramps, you're a fucking psycho! She snarled.
"As you will, Granddaughter, but at the end of the day, I am still the one in charge," he said as they entered the infusion chamber, where Dreykoff and his three eldest initiates were waiting.
"Had your fun, then?" Dreykoff asked him, a sneer on his face.
"I did at that. Danke sehr," he replied, approaching the infusion unit, which the oldest initiate was already strapped into. "Just the three of them, then?"
"Yes. We'll hold off on Makoto for now."
Brock Rumlow was the oldest of the 2R initiates at twenty-one, and he was already a big man, so the serum wouldn't change much there. The question was…what might some of the other effects be?
"It will be interesting to see," Dreykoff said, as if he'd read his mind. "Brock has already been out on several assignments. He's even begun to earn a new name for himself."
"And what might that be?" Schmidt asked as he began to set the machine for infusion.
"Crossbones."
"And have the others earned names yet?" Schmidt asked as he took a step back, glancing at the other two. Alexei Shostakov was eighteen and much slighter than Rumlow, and at sixteen, the red-headed Belle Arnette was about his same height. Both eyed the machine with barely concealed uncertainty.
"No. Belle hasn't yet seen the outside and Alexei has only been on one assignment, but they are young yet. We shall see."
"We shall indeed," the Skull said, turning his attention back to the infusion chamber with a glint of excitement in his eyes.
Brock had been eager to go into the chamber…eager to receive the kind of power the serum could offer…and at first he'd grit his teeth, bearing the pain with a smirk…but even he couldn't withstand being burnt to ashes and remade from them. He, like all the others who had come before him, screamed in agony.
As Sinthea watched the transformation through her stolen eyes, thinking that they meant to unleash this horror on children even younger…this horror that she had created, all she could think was, what have I done? What have I done?! What have I done?!
XxX
It had taken the three fugitive Avengers nearly two weeks to hitchhike their way across France, Belgium, and Germany. Both Clint and Steve were anxious to be moving faster, but they all knew they still had to be careful to stay off the radar. Bruce and Clint weren't particularly conspicuous, but Steve was a bit more of a problem. With his Captain America uniform and shield, he'd stuck out about a mile, so they'd had to take the time to at least find him a jacket to keep the stars and stripes hidden from prying eyes.
Between the three of them, they knew enough French and German to get by. They had discovered early on, though, in the stages of planning their attack on 2R that 'the outskirts of Berlin' still wasn't quite specific enough. Just because Bucky had known the compound was somewhere near Berlin didn't mean he knew exactly where, so there was still some scouting to be done when they arrived. They were currently bearing down on the city on a trio of motorbikes they'd stolen from a junkyard. While Bruce wasn't exactly a mechanic, he'd learned enough from Tony in order to get the machines running again, even if they didn't go quite as fast as the group would have liked.
Things seemed to be going well…so of course, Steve was on edge, keeping an eye on everything. It always seemed that just when things were going well, that was the exact moment an enormous wrench was thrown right into the middle of their plans.
And wouldn't you know it, barely a mile outside the city limits, the front tire of Bruce's bike exploded and he was sent skidding across the pavement, badly shredding the left side of his body.
Clint and Steve jumped free of their bikes the moment they heard the explosion, and sure enough the two vehicles followed Bruce's in a burst of heat and light. The two quickly huddled together at each other's backs, bow drawn, shield out, and cowl pulled up, searching for their attackers. Bruce's injuries were pretty severe, but they meant almost nothing, as his skin was already turning green and his muscles were beginning to bulge out. The Hulk soon joined their huddle-up with a roar.
"That's quick thinking. Way to stay on your toes," a voice called out to them through the noise of the halting traffic.
The three men looked back the way they'd come. There was a bit of pileup of traffic resulting from the explosion of the three motorbikes and there were already several panicked civilians in the streets. Through the horde of shouting people, though, emerged one who was calm, moving with absolute intent toward the three Avengers. Even if he weren't the only calm person in a sea of writhing panic, he would have stood out anyway. His skin was a very dark red, much darker than the Skull's, but it still had a similar effect, though this man still seemed to have a proper nose and hair. As he sized him up, Steve's only thought was…
"This kid's had the serum," he said out loud.
"Really?" Clint said with interest, his bow prepared to let fly an arrow. "Maybe he can tell us where they're keeping Nat and Barnes."
"My thoughts exactly," Steve said.
"My apologies for the pyrotechnics, my friends," the man said as he came closer, "but I'm afraid my comrade has a bit of a penchant for the dramatic."
"Comrade?" Steve repeated. No sooner had the word left his mouth than the sound of gunfire echoed from behind him. The Hulk was already roaring at their new opponent as he turned to glance at him.
This new man was yet another stand out kind of guy. As far as Steve could tell, his skin was all black, save for two very distinct marks on his face…two slashes of white, which brought out his eerie yellow eyes. As this one moved toward them, he came firing a pair of guns into the air.
"Where are they?" Steve demanded, not really caring who answered so long as one of them provided one.
"Right under your nose, dear captain. That's why we were sent here."
"We didn't come here to play games," Clint warned the red-skinned assassin.
"Nor did we. Well…I didn't, at least," he amended. "Sometimes, it seems to me that Crossbones is always playing games with his victims."
"Hey, Cap!" the one called Crossbones shouted as he drew closer. "Lose something?!"
Holstering one of his guns, the man held up something very tiny. Steve's improved eyes zeroed in on the object, realizing it was a ring…a silver ring…Bucky's ring!
"Where is he?!" the now incensed super soldier shouted, breaking away from the knot of Avengers and bearing down on the other 2R agent.
"Cap!" Clint shouted, trying to draw him back, but that was the moment he felt something sharp dig into his leg. He turned back and fired an arrow at the red agent, who had fired a flechette gun at him. The pain of the new injury caused his aim to be just slightly off and his opponent was able to dodge the arrow.
"Damn fucking serum-assed bitches," Clint swore under his breath, readying another arrow.
Steve was normally a brilliant tactician and would never rush headlong into a fight unprepared, but the situation was a little different now. Seeing Bucky's engagement ring…that tiny, precious piece of metal that they'd made their promise on…seeing it in the hands of the enemy just caused something inside of him to snap. He was tired of playing the defensive and he was sick of letting these bastards walk all over him. He was sick to death of it. So he launched himself at Crossbones, fully intending to unleash his full force and grind his face into the ground.
Crossbones was ready for him, though. When Captain America laid into him with both fists, he fought back every blow. Neither of them held back, delivering blows with all the considerable strength they both possessed…and for both parties, the effect was admittedly somewhat cathartic.
"I've got an idea," Crossbones taunted as the two duked it out. "How 'bout a trade? I'll let you have this ring…if you give me that pretty shield of yours."
"Not on your God damn life!" Steve shouted. "Tell me where he is!"
"You wanna know so damn bad?!" Crossbones returned, using Steve's desperate rage as a weapon against him, taking his moment of distraction and using it to tear the shield away from him, breaking his arm in the process. "Then I'll tell you," he said, pulling Steve up close against him with one hand as he slipped the silver ring onto his finger. Then he whispered something in his ear before flinging him across the road.
Steve landed hard just a few feet from Clint. Hawkeye saw it happening as the captain struggled to his feet, but he wasn't fast enough to stop it. Crossbones drew one of his guns and fired several rounds.
To Steve, it almost seemed to be happening in slow motion…but he was stuck in slow motion right along with it. He saw the gun fire, briefly saw the rounds heading toward him, tried to turn aside…not fast enough…felt the bullets tear through his chest. Then the world sort of went silent as he fell to his knees…feeling the blood rise in his throat…beginning to drip from his mouth.
Slowly, he raised the ring to his lips…kissed it…
"Buck…Bucky, I'm…sorry…I…"
…then he fell.
XxX