Steve Rogers hated the cold.
He hated it ever since he crashed into the ice, fully prepared to die but instead trapped in a frozen hell. Before, he disliked it – being a sickly kid, the first freeze of winter never meant any good, his frail body unable to defend itself against the harsh environments it was subjected to.
Quickly the dislike turned into hate when he was pulled from a frozen wasteland, apparently seventy years into the future. A chill had settled into his bones, a chill that only a scalding shower could cure for a few minutes. It haunted him, followed his every move.
So it was needless to say that the cold breeze that was weaving through the bars of his cell was not desired, but rather unpleasant.
Despite his attempt to keep a stoic façade, he shivered against the slight wind, closing his eyes for a few seconds. Once again, he tried to pull against his metal restraints, but the result was as disappointing as the last time he tried. The chains held him firmly to the ceiling, his body helplessly dangling underneath.
His wrists burned, his arms ached, and his side flared with a stab of pain (probably from the blow he received earlier in his attempt to protect an unconscious Clint), but he had remained unwavering to his pain. But the cold apparently was what broke him, which he supposed was pathetic. For Captain America, at least.
However, it was a very Captain America move to sacrifice his freedom for others, and he was sure Tony would lecture him about it if – no when – he broke him out. No bars or walls could stop the billionaire's sheer stubbornness, as he had seen numerous times. Still, he would be mad at him for getting himself in this position in the first place.
I didn't really have a choice, Steve reminded himself as he hung helplessly in his bare cell. It was either me or them.
The battle – which he now understood was an elaborate distraction for his capture – was going quite well, with only a few injuries. The Avengers had fought worse threats, and came out victorious.
Bombs had been spread throughout the city of New York (why everyone chose New York for their villainous schemes Steve didn't know) along with a few fighters to hinder their progress. They had been disposed of easier enough, or so Steve had thought.
Even now, hours after the event, Steve still scolded himself for making such a risky assumption. He should've known, as soon as he'd seen the Hydra symbol on those bombs, that this was no regular threat, something far greater. Captain America, who was supposed to be a strong, reliable leader, had directly lead his teammates into a trap. The bombs that Tony had been mocking not only a few minutes before the disaster were duds, only purpose being to split their team up.
"I'm going to give you a choice, Captain." The Hydra agent stepped closer to him, pressing the blade against his neck. Steve was helpless but to watch as screens around him lit up with images of his teammates trapped in their own rooms, furiously trying to find a way out. Even then, he couldn't help but smile at their determination. Natasha, Clint, Tony, Thor, Bucky – all of them relentless in their search for freedom.
"Either you can come with me, and let us…experiment with you…" The Hydra agent let out a low laugh as Steve's smile faded as he watched the CCTV footage. He watched as Hydra soldiers burst into each room, watched as his teammates – his family – were each backed against a wall. He watched in horror as Bucky fell to a bullet.
"No!" Steve cried out, springing up. However, he was brought to his knees again as the Hydra agent sliced his side with a grin.
"Look at them, trying to fight…" the agent gave a small chuckle. "…adorable."
He turned to the Captain, eyes cold.
"So, what will it be, Captain?"
Yeah, Tony really hated his self-sacrificing tendencies. So did Bucky – actually, all of his team did.
But it couldn't be helped.
The cold was back again, and this time a larger shiver travelled down his spine, making him grind his teeth to stop them from chattering. He was a super soldier – there was no way he should be affected by a small breeze. Yet here he was, shivering in the centre of the cell.
"Cold, Captain?"
Steve opened his eyes sharply, his blue irises meeting pale grey. Immediately, he forced his body to stop shaking, holding himself as high as he could, chin in the air.
"You're early this time." Steve said to the Hydra agent – or The Doctor, as he liked to be called.
Of course, Steve would never call him that to his face.
Despite the light words, Steve was unnerved by his reappearance. He needed the breaks, he needed his body to heal from the abuse it was endured to. He looked around nervously, feeling his body tense up.
It's too soon, his mind screamed as he gulped. Way too soon!
"I guess I am eager for our next…session, yes?" The Doctor stepped forward, twirling his rod in his hand. Steve eyed it warily, dreading what was to come.
"You know what I'm going to ask, so let's get on with it, shall we? Then we can get on with the fun part." He circled around Steve, chuckling. "Well, it's fun for me at least. For you, I'm sure it's quite horrible."
He jabbed the end of his rod against Steve's most recent injury; a chunk of his skin had been cut off, down to the bone. They had wanted to test his healing abilities to the extreme.
Steve winced, but gave no louder sound. He kept his eyes trained on the crack in the wall, the same spot he always stared at when the interrogation began.
"Now, number one – what did Dr Erskine say to you when he gave you that serum?" The Doctor began. Steve stayed quiet, eyes fixed on the wall. His body tensed for the pain he knew was coming.
"No? Alright then." The Doctor suddenly lunged forward, stabbing the front end of his baton into his unprotected chest.
A burst of electricity made Steve scream, the current racing through each cell in his body. It felt like fire, fire that twisted through his veins and burnt his insides.
He had been subjected to this torture every hour he was kept captive. It had been a few days, Steve had guessed, since the battle.
Today, the electric shock was much worse, he noted fully through the pain. It lasted longer, and made him feel like his skin was melting each second.
Only when he smelt his skin burning did the shock stop, leaving him twitching and whimpering.
"I don't know whether you noticed," The Doctor began, grinning up at him, "but I have turned the intensity of the shock to the maximum. You see, we thought the additional pain would make you more…talkative." He slammed the rod in his burning chest, making him let out a choked cry. His vision blurred, and he could barely make out the words being spoken to him.
"The question is, whether you will cooperate?"
The pain stopped, and Steve could barely draw in a breath. His lungs were burning.
"Number two," the Doctor continued where he had left of, pacing across the stone floor. His boots clanked rhythmically with every step, synchronising to the throbs of Steve's head.
"What is the passcode to Avengers Tower?" He asked. Steve did not make eye contact, refusing to say a word.
When silence is all that is received, the Doctor tutted.
"Come on, that one was easy." He shrugged. "Oh well."
When the rod pieces his skin this time, it's on his back, directly over his spine. Steve couldn't scream, muscles freezing as he let out a choked gasp. He tasted metal in his mouth, felt warm liquid drip from his lips.
When the shock was finally over, Steve's body was still shaking. He coughed, blood splattering the cold, grey floor. The colours contrasted beautifully, and Steve would admire it if the situation wasn't so dire.
"You make this harder by yourself. It seems that even great pain will not break you. Physical, at least." The Doctor spoke again, voice dropping with malice. The last part of his sentence was muttered, more to himself, Steve only being able to catch a few of the words.
"But please…do keep resisting. It will let me have some fun with you later." The Hydra finished. Without warning, the rod was stabbed into his wounded abdomen. Steve screamed, long and loud, hoping that someone would answer his call.
No one did, again.
Not throughout the entire interrogation session. After each shock, the Doctor was becoming more pleased. At the twelfth question, he paused, rod hovering inches from Steve's stomach.
"How did you free the Winter Soldier from his control? Where is he now?" He hissed. Steve shook his head, gasping.
"I'm not tellin' you a thing…" he whispered. The Doctor only shrugged once more and, without any warning, slammed the rod into his chest. Once again, pain washed over him until his vision turned white.
"You have to break eventually." The Doctor said once he withdrew the rod. Steve, for the first time, stared down at him from his restraints, giving a small smile.
"I could do this all day."
By the thirtieth shock, Steve could no longer speak.
"I will ask again, one more time." The Doctor smiled at him. "Why is your serum so much better than ours? What did that fool tell you before he was killed?"
Not a good soldier, but a good man, Steve remembered those words every day, and knew he would until his very last breath. Which he supposed could be very soon. He was in complete agony, any concept of time lost in his mind.
All Steve could respond with was a gasp, chest heaving. Burns and cuts were littered across his skin, the stench of burning flesh making his stomach roll. He could no longer lift his head to even look at the agent.
But his silence was enough.
"Ah, that was your last chance." The Doctor raised his rod again, hovering over Steve's heart.
"Pl – plea –" Steve's beg was cut off with a scream, shocks racing through his limbs once more. His head span, and finally he felt himself begin to lose consciousness.
"Well, physical torture is not working…which I am impressed about." The Doctor's words faded in and out of his ears. "Usually this voltage would kill a man. Pretty painful, isn't it?"
Steve suddenly felt weightless, realising too late that he had been released from his chains. He dropped to the ground in a heap of trembling limbs, giving a small yelp of pain.
"So pathetic. But not broken." The Doctor continued. "Now the fun can begin, at least."
Steve tried to push himself up, but his limbs simply wouldn't cooperate. He watched through blurred vision as numerous guards entered the cell, grabbing his hands and feet. Steve didn't even try to fight, only letting out a gasp.
"This way. To the chamber." He heard someone distantly order. His vision swam, the pain dulling as he slipped into unconsciousness.
A super soldier's body was built for endurance, and stability. Due to this, it wasn't long before Steve's mind forced him into consciousness once more through a flash of pain and fear.
His vision was doubling, breath catching in his throat as he failed to draw in a breath. Through the haze of pain, he found that his surroundings had changed – no longer was he chained to the ceiling in a stone cell, but in a cleaner looking lab. The walls and floor were lined an almost dazzling white, no windows in sight. Not that he was surprised.
The whole room was twice the size of the cell, coated in a dull, amber light.
This isn't good, Steve could only think. He had been in too many similar situations to this one. Any room that resembled a lab that the enemy had placed him in was enough to create alarm.
Unfortunately, thinking was even too much of a strain for his jumbled brain at that moment. Instead of finding a way out, he found himself shaking on the floor. He couldn't stop trembling, no matter how hard he tried.
"You are awake, Captain. I was worried that I would have to begin without your knowledge. And I do love bragging about my work, yes?"
Suddenly, the Doctor's voice seeped through the walls on a crackly speaker.
As if a catalyst, Steve stumbled to his feet despite the pain it created. He stared around wildly at the bare walls.
"Careful. Don't want you passing out again…" the Doctor taunted.
Steve swallowed, looking for a source to the voice. He found none, making him uneasy.
"Anyway, I'm rambling. Let's get to the point, shall we?" The Doctor's laugh made Steve shiver shamefully.
"What…" Steve rasped. He couldn't finish, ending his sentence in a series of coughs.
"Ah ah ah! Quiet!" The Doctor's voice interrupted. "Let me explain what exactly is going to happen to you for…let's see…the rest of your stay here."
The speaker rang in Steve's ears, crackling. Steve stayed silent.
"Seeing as physical torture does not work for you, I thought it would be a good time to try out a new gas prototype. Very simple purpose, but very effective. Let me show you."
There was a low hissing sound, a sound Steve was horribly familiar with. Looking up sharply, he saw clouds of purple gas leak out of small vents, crawling lower to the ground. Immediately, Steve covered his mouth and nose the best he could, dropping to the ground.
A loud ring of laughter was emitted from the speakers.
"It's the most powerful hallucinogen Hydra has ever created! And you are so lucky to be the first test subject!"
Steve crawled to the corner of the room, already feeling the gas burn his eyes. It tasted sour, making him cough again.
"Don't try and fight it…it will only make it more fun for me to watch!"
He couldn't help it – he took a gasping breath, only to choke as the gas entered his system. Tears streamed from his eyes at its intensity.
"But I'll leave you to find out the rest…" the Doctor's voice faded, sounding underwater. The room around him began to shift and change, bending into a swirling mass of colour. Steve closed his eyes, clamping his hands around his ears as a loud buzz attacked his hearing. He did not know how long he stayed that way, burying his head into his knees in an attempt to protect his airways from another assault of gas.
"Steve?"
A timid voice made the world silent around him. Steve froze.
It was a voice that he thought he would never hear again, trapped forever in history and dreams. Soft, yet with a hard edge that was full of determination.
Steve couldn't help but open his eyes, staring into chocolate irises that he never thought he would see again.
The room was white around them, trapping them in an unnatural blank void. Steve didn't notice, staring in front of him in confusion.
There she was, just as she had been before he crashed into the ice. Her hair neatly styled, arms folded over her chest. Lips pursed, glistening with the red lipstick that he had always wanted to taste.
"Peggy?" Steve breathed into the silence.
Peggy smiled, eyes twinkling.