Authors note: Bucky feels! Angst and crying but resolution. One Chapter left after this one.
He was kneeling on the cold tile floor, metal hand clenching the wrist of his flesh arm behind his back in parade position as he awaited further instruction. The Asset was drenched in sweat but shivered in the damp air, muscles sore from rigorous exercise, bruises and scraps visible on his naked flesh from minor injuries sustained in battle. He had completed his mission and was back at base, prepared for whatever orders came next. He did not think about the mission before, or where he was or why, what purpose Hydra had for their obedient soldier to be naked and kneeling on the floor, submissively waiting on whoever they commanded him to serve. He tried to focus on compliance, on accepting that order was gained through pain and he was never to question why or to acknowledge the nauseous cramping he felt as the whispered echoes of past abusive violations sent shivers down his spine and made him clench his jaw.
A voice from the walls had been speaking but not to the Asset. It had been asking for a response from a Sergeant. The name of the officer unimportant, only that he was to report back. Hydra's Asset did not look away from the door, he did not dare move or respond without specific directives or the punishment would be severe. He felt his pulse begin to race as he heard footsteps approaching the closed door, heavy and urgent. The Winter Soldier was a disciplined machine, a weapon of pure violence and terror, and yet, in this moment he was the one gripped with terror and the sensation was overwhelming and not part of his programming which meant he was defective.
There was a knock at the door and a man spoke loudly with authority in his tone. The Asset felt his breathing coming faster and shallower through his noise, blood pounding in his ears as he realized that he was malfunctioning and they would know. His Handlers would order the lab tecs to perform corrective mantaince and then reprogramming, but first, he would receive his conditioning, order through pain. The Commanding officer on the other side of the door was speaking louder and he knocked again. The Asset was trembling in place, metal hand squeezing his wrist as he opened his mouth and tried to gulp in air, vision getting fuzzy and head pounding.
The door unlocked on it's own and opened suddenly, letting in a wave of cold air. The Asset dropped his head down, trying to hid his wide eyed panic and gasping, vision swimming as he shook, squeezing his wrist so hard he could feel the small fractures that shot pain through his nervous system.
Order through pain, focus, control, comply.
He felt the looming figure approach him and kneel down, examining his current level of malfunction. Large, calloused hands reached out touching his face and the fear and panic raced through the Asset like a bolt of electricity from the chair.
"Heit,…. Heit….." His voice was a chocked, breathless whisper as he shook his head. He didn't want them to touch him, he didn't want to let them have his body even if he was their Asset to use however they deemed necessary. His wants were inconsequential and defiance would not be tolerated. He needed to follow orders, he needed to obey Hydra but he couldn't comply, not again.
"Bucky?... Can you look at me?... Please?" Steve was kneeling in front of his best friend trying to reach him through his dissociative panic attack. He had been sketching the sun setting over the New York Skyline when Jarvis had reported that Sergeant Barnes had exited the Steam room and was kneeling in parade rest on the bathroom tile floor of his Gym. Bucky had been unresponsive to Jarvis's attempts to assess his state of mind and so the Captain had been alerted as was the protocol.
He placed his hand on Bucky's panic-stricken face and felt the hot tears run over his thumb and the cold, calming cheek under his palm. When Bucky began to whisper no in Russian his voice sounded desperately afraid and Steve could sense the tension in Bucky's trembling form right before he lashed out. Steve Jumped back wards as The Asset sprang to his feet bolted for the door. He slipped on the wet tile and crashed through the doorway with a feral cry desperate for escape. Steve got to his feet but did not rush, aware that Jarvis had the gym on secure lock down until the Captain gave the all clear.
The terrified soldier raced through the room towards the door but it would not open, he banged on it with his metal fist as he screamed in rage like a caged animal. Steve was wearing under armor and shorts with running shoes, aware that he should be ready for anything after Bucky's dissociative episode during the mission, including the potential for a violent, psychotic break from reality. Bucky continued to fight against the reinforced door of his gym turned cell as Steve stood on the other side of the room calling out to him in a calm but authoritative voice.
There was no way out so he had to fight. The Asset turned toward the only other person in the room and growled like a predator, refusing to be dominated. Steve let out a deep breath and got ready to fight defensively as Bucky grabbed wights off the nearest machine and through them with lethal intent at the blond man's head, guard up and ready for the attack.
Steve dodged and stayed back, calling out to Bucky who was behaving like a savage beast instead of as a well-trained fighter, throwing everything he could and staying by the door, escape still his top priority. The Captain stayed back, calling out to Bucky while ordering Jarvis to get Barton for back up. At the sound of Steve's order the Soldier new reinforcements were coming and he had to act fast. The Asset ran forward and the Captain leapted back, slamming his fist on a button set into the wall that sent a sonic wave directed at Bucky's arm trigging a sequenced code that disabled it temporarily. The Asset howled in anger at the dead limb at his side and instantly backed away with strangled, panicked breaths as he held up his flesh arm, bruised and fractured along his wrist.
"Bucky,… Try to breath,… I am not here to hurt you,… no one is coming to hurt you." Steve stated calmly, the words well practiced after well over a year of dealing with his friend's painful recover. Steve swallowed down the disappointment at seeing the man he loved who had come so far in the past several months, regressed to the mentality of a frightened animal, unable to communicate beyond grows of rage and cries of panic.
The Asset rushed forward with a growl, but Steve blocked his kicks and when his injured wrist connected with the Captain's jaw the pain was sharp and made him choke back a gasp, desperate to hid his injury so it could not be exploited. Steve had willingly taken the blow to get in close and now had him pinned, bare back to his chest. Steve kept his face ducked into Bucky's neck to avoid head buts and rolled backwards on to the ground as he wrapped his legs around Bucky's twisting and struggling form.
"Нет ... Нет ... Я не буду подчиняться ... Нет, нет, нет!" (No…No…I wont comply,…No,… No don't!) Bucky screamed in Russian even as Steve whispered calming words behind his ear, holding on firmly and ignoring each painful revolt and the weight on his chest.
Sir Agent Barton is outside with the sedative.
Jarvis voice was loud enough to hear over Bucky's Russian protests and Steve gave the order. The door opened and shut quickly as Clint rushed in with the modified dart gun, aiming the Thorazine injection for Bucky's exposed hip muscle. It landed with physician precision despite the contortions and adrenalin fuled attempts to break through the Captains tight hold.
The Winter Soldier cried out in desperation and the sound was heartbreaking as his fierce growls of resistance became panicked sobs and his Russian curses became slurred English with a Brooklyn accent.
"Get yer filthy hands off' ah me!... I won't comply you sick Nazie fucks,…. I won't never let you touch me!... Not no more,…. Please,…. Not again!" Steve's hold remained firm until Bucky's attempts to break loose became sluggish like his speech and his cries of hate became sobs of a man who knew his words meant nothing and he would be forced to submit to whatever they wanted to do to him.
Steve rolled them both on to their left sides and Bucky curled in on himself as Steve loosened his grip and sat up. The trembling man brought his bruised and fractured wrist up over his head, hiding as he choked on silent sobs. Steve looked down at Bucky and then up to Clint who simply nodded with a small salute and sad eyes, leaving without a word to give them privacy. Steve sat all the way up and reached down gently with a hand on Bucky's flesh shoulder, wishing they could have just used a tranquilizer that knocked him out instead of an anti-psychotic sedative that left him dazed and confused with little energy but Bucky had stated that coming back slowly was better than going unconscious during a psychotic break because his dreams were just as terrifying. Steve and the others had witnessed this first hand and so respected Bucky's choice to be sedated but awake if he ever lost control.
"Bucky,… It's me,… It's your Stevie." The Captain spoke softly, keeping his hand on his friends bicep but not moving any closer. The former Asset was silently sobbing and hiding under his sweat soaked strains of hair, using his flesh arm as a shield, eyes squeezed shut against his tears and breathing heavy through his noise, a soft whining noise trapped behind his clenched teeth.
"Bucky,… listen to my voice,… I will not hurt you… You are not going to be punished,…. You are safe." Steve stood up after a few more long moments without any response and moved toward the bathroom where he turned on the faucet for the jacuzzi tub and poured in the lavender epsilon salt. He turned back and paused for a moment as he looked himself in the mirror, feeling guilty about his remarks towards Bucky earlier that morning about restraints and sedation. Bucky would no doubt be embarrassed about Clint using the sedative and seeing him naked after months of the two snippers becoming competitive comrades in sharp shooting spending many nights sharing a bottle of Whiskey down at the shooting range. Steve hated that he had called for backup but he didn't want to hurt Bucky physically and could tell already that his wrist was damaged. He shrugged and rolled his shoulders and then headed back out to the decimated gymnasium where Bucky remained curled up and softly crying.
"Hey Pal,… Lets get you off the floor and cleaned up,… It's gonna be okay,… I got you,… Stevie's got you!" The Captain carefully lifted Bucky off the floor and had him sitting up but swaying with only minor resistance. Bucky's glazed, wet eyes blinked as he tried to focus on the man who was cradling him in his arms gently instead of dragging him by his damaged and malfunctioning arms.
"S….Steve…ie?" Bucky asked with a choked sob. Steve smiled at him and nodded, pushing the wet strains of hair out of his face.
"Yea Buck,… It's me." Steve promised and used one hand to wipe the tears off his friends flushed cheeks before quickly reaching down and removing the tranq dart from Bucky's hip. "Can you stand up for me Bucky?...That's it,… I got you,… nice and easy." Steve stood up slowly, supporting Bucky's wait as his friend struggled with his coordination, limbs heavy and stiff, metal arm still hanging limp at his side. The dosage of the Thorazine was super soldier strength but would dissipate within the hour, leaving Bucky tired but less confused and disoriented. Steve guided Bucky into the bathroom and towards the filling bathtub that smelled sweet and soothing. Bucky was shaking still and Steve knew it wasn't just a side effect of the anti-Psychotic.
"S…s..s..Steve….. Stevie…?" Bucky's voice was still slurred and his gaze disoriented but his crystal blue eyes held fear and that made Steve feel protective and in need to ease his friend's troubled mind.
"it's okay Bucky,… Your safe,… I'm with you pal,… I'm right here." Steve thought about the first time this century that he had helped Bucky bath all those many months ago and the parallel made his chest ach as he thought about their relationship and how it had grown in intimacy that felt wrong and coercive when Bucky was in such a helpless state. They had spent the past several months relearning how to love each other physically and had been mostly successful in avoiding flashbacks but there were still frequent nightmares and occasional panic attacks. Through it all, every trial and error, Steve would check in with Bucky and make sure he was grounded and present and most importantly that he wanted to be touched and that he felt good.
"Bucky,… can you step into the tub pal?" Bucky gave a jerky nod, head still down as he shook quietly. Leaning heavily on Steve he got into the bath and sunk down into the warm water with a moan that became a sob and he turned away ashamed.
"Hey,… It's alright,…Don't hide Buck,…let me help you… please." Steve spoke with a gentle plea as he used both hands to caress the hair from Bucky's face and rub his tense shaking shoulder. There were several long minutes of silence, the tub filling up and Bucky's shuddered breathing the only sound until he finally spoke with a soft mumble, tired gaze fixed low on Steve chest.
"Music?" Bucky's voice was scratchy and raw from crying. Steve nodded and then requested Jarvis play them some vintage jazz from their collection, something calm. As the melodic sound filtered into the room Bucky took in a deep breath and closed his eyes, leaning forward until his forehead rested against Steve's abdomen. The Captain sat on the edge of the tub and continued his comforting touch, letting his hands rub soothing circles into Bucky's back, carefully messaging the muscles that were most strained by the weight of the deactivated prosthetic limb. When the tub was , Steve stood up and turned it off and then switched on the silent jets that filled the warm soapy wter with bubbles. Bucky remained silent and hunched over in the tub, close to the edge, blinking open his drowsy eyes and looking up as he followed Steve's movements. The Captain sat down on the edge of the tub once more and offered a soft smile.
"Go ahead Buck,… lay back and relax." He couched with a nod and Bucky bit his lip and looked away with hesitation before he swallowed and spoke again, voice unsure of himself.
"Join me?" He asked without making eye contact and Steve studied his friend who remained curled in on himself, still shaking but breathing even and tears no longer pouring down his cheeks but still living in his red eyes.
"Are you sure?" Steve asked quietly and Bucky gave another jerky nod. Steve stood up and removed his shirt and saw Bucky flinch when he through it toward the laundry shoot. He paused and then knelt down again by the edge and reached out, placing a sold hand on Bucky's bi-sept.
"Do you want me to leave my shorts on?" Steve asked patiently, trying to catch Bucky's nervous gaze that was staring at Steve's hand on his arm. Bucky let out a pained sound and squeezed his eyes shut again shaking his head.
"Please Stevie,… don't let them ruin what we have,…. I…. I 'm sorry,…. I'm so sorry,…I…Please!" Bucky chocked out and hastily wiped the tears from his eyes in humility as he covered his face. Steve leaned in and kissed Bucky's forehead before whispering.
"They can't ruin us Bucky,…they don't matter anymore,… It's just you and me pal,… Just us." Steve promised before he stood up and took off the rest of his clothes, Bucky wiping his red eyes and pouting as he took a few deep breaths, practicing as his therapist had recommended.
Steve stepped into the hot water and made himself comfortable, leaning back with his arms open and resting outstretched on the rim of the hot tub. Bucky continued his measured breathing before moving so he could relax against Steve's body. He uncoiled and tentatively leaned toward Steve who kept his body still, giving Bucky the freedom to touch him when ready. Slowly, with nervous eyes and shaking hands Bucky laid his tense body curled up on his side between Steve's legs, resting with his ear over Steve's chest to listen to the steading beating of his heart. The rise and fall of Steve's chest as he breathed was grounding, the warm water and lavender helping to sooth his anxious body and the noise of his thoughts.
Steve stayed quite for several long moments, as he began stroking his hand through Bucky's knotted hair while using his other hand to gently massage the tense muscles of his left shoulder blade where even with a new metal prosthetic, the trauma of years past still ached. Bucky remained quietly breathing as he focused on regaining sensation in his left arm, the fingers spasming as he flexed his joints.
After several songs had played their familiar melodies, Bucky gave a small shudder and swallowed as he turned his face into Steve's chest as if to hide from whatever ugly memories were poisoning his thoughts.
"Bucky?" Steve asked as he stilled both of his hands, letting them rest protectively but not restraining. Bucky didn't look up but instead he squeezed his eyes shut before he spoke with an gravel whisper.
"I lied to Natasha." His words were mumbled into Steve's chest and The Captain moved one hand up Bucky's back, the sensation making him shudder.
"About what Buck?" Steve asked as he stilled again, aware that Bucky's shudder had become a shiver. Bucky remained buried in Steve's chest until the Captain called his name again and he sighed heavily. He pushed back and sat up shaking his head as his wet eyes grew distant, his voice a chocked whisper.
"I said he wasn't the worst,… but,…I think,… I remember,… he… he…" Bucky crumbled as he buried his face in both hands shaking his head. Steve felt his gut grow tight and he placed a hand on Bucky's shoulder, a sad expression painted on his face.
"He's dead Bucky,… You killed him and he can never hurt you again… No one will ever hurt you like that ever again!... I promise!" Steve's voice was practiced calm and strong but he struggled to swallow and keep his own rage smothered. Bucky sat hunched over as he silently sobbed into his palms with Steve resting a sturdy hand on his shoulder but not touching him further.
Eventually Bucky sat up and wiped his face as he let out a shuddered sigh and swallowed before looking back over to Steve, unable to raise his eyes in shame.
"I screwed everything up huh Steve?... Now Fury and them know how much of a nutjob I still am… No more missions,…" Bucky pouted as he glared down at his metal arm that had gutted the life from the Former Hydra pervert.
"Hey,… Your not a nutjob,… you are a war hero with PTSD,… and that's okay,… we just got to make sure you process what happened and take some time to deal with it… Then,… when you are ready, I will be glad to have you out there watching my six!" Steve offered with a sympathetic smile as Bucky's depressed gaze traveled up toward his with a look of uncertainty.
"Really?" Bucky asked with a small pout and large wet eyes.
"Yea Buck!... I was wrong to try and keep you out of the field,… I just want you to be safe is all." Steve offered as he carded his hand through Bucky's wet locks of hair. "But you have every right to be out there,… this fight is ours,… together!" Steve offered a nod and small smile as he tried to remember what Sam and Natasha had said, realizing that Bucky was still recovering and needed to do it on his own terms with Steve's support.
"Not sure the rest of the gang will feel the same Cap." Bucky huffed as he bit his lip and shook his head.
"We all get compromised sometimes Buck,… But that's why it's good to have a team,… because we watch out for each other and can offer back up when things get hard." He squeezed Bucky's shoulder who met Steve's gaze at last with reluctant hope.
"I was a jerk for what I said this morning Bucky,… I'm sorry pal,… I am so proud of you for facing your worst fears, fighting back against the trigger words and coming back in one piece!" Steve stated as an absolute truth.
"Even though I botched the Mission to gain intelligence?" Bucky asked with a timid voice, eyeing Steve sideways.
"Buck, when it comes to dealing with Hydra scumbags, the mission is always going to be second to whatever you need… and I think killing this bastard might have been what you needed to do." Steve offered with a genuine expression and certainty in his steadfast gaze.
Bucky looked at him with a pensive frown before nodding to himself and letting out a deep sigh as he wiped his face before relaxing back against Steve, letting himself be wrapped in the Captain's arms. He listened to the music of his generation and tried to remember that he was free of the living nightmare that Hydra had enslaved him too for so long. His name was Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes and he would never let anyone rob him of his free will, never again.
End Note: So this Chapter was to revisit / wrap up the aftermath of severe sexual trauma and abuse. I didn't want to jump into sexy times between our Super Soldiers without acknowledging where Bucky is at in terms of his recovery and his comfort with sexuality.
Next Chapter is the final and as the stucky smut I promised.