Chapter 17: Making the Winter Soldier
They were barely out of the car before Tony was there, pacing. "I leave you alone for three hours, and this is whatThey were barely out of the car before Tony was there, pacing. "I leave you alone for three hours, and this is what happens?"
He slapped his phone on the hood of the car and tapped it. A holographic news projection arose. It was a video of Bucky, unrecognizable thanks to the photostatic veil, leaping over a car and scaling a building with the speed and grace of a jaguar.
The caption read "Police seek mystery man as person of interest. Criminal or the newest Avenger?" Steve grimaced and looked at Bucky, who was leaning against the side of the car, arms folded and head downcast.
"This is my fault," Steve said.
"Damn straight!" Tony jabbed a finger at him, then took a breath. His shoulders slumped. "Is everyone okay?"
"Yes, we're fine," Natasha told him, leaning into Tony's space.
"No. This is my fault," Bucky said. "They're after me."
They're not going to get you, Steve promised silently. He knew Hydra wanted Bucky, but they seemed desperate. What he couldn't figure out is why they wanted Bucky so badly when they'd had three more super soldiers.
Had. After the last op, two were dead. Two of the five had been killed in the Siberia mission. That left one alive, still out there and still a potential problem.
"Tony," Natasha added, "Don't forget, you were invited. You had other plans."
"I get it," Tony shot back. "I know. I didn't see this coming, either. We're not going to be prisoners in this complex. We're the fucking Avengers. We should be able to go grab a bite to eat without getting blindsided. This ends now." He pocketed his phone. "I'm smarter than they are, I'm richer than they are, and right now I'm a lot more pissed than they are. FRIDAY, I don't care what you have to hack, I want every satellite image, traffic camera, and social media posting searched until you back track where those assholes came from…. What do you mean I need to be more specific? The Hydra assholes on the news an hour ago, geez! I want a list of possible locations for bases and hide-outs within a 100 miles radius."
Tony looked up at them, and Steve recognized that look. Tony was either going to do something colossally reckless and stupid, or he was going to do something brilliant. Right now, Steve was hoping for brilliant. It was time to go on the offensive.
-0- -0- -0-
Steve walked back to the room with Bucky. "Sorry. That was supposed to be a fun outing. A way to de-stress before tomorrow. We'd have been better off staying in and watching a movie."
Bucky cocked his head. "It was fun…except for the that last part. It's Hydra. They're assholes."
"Yes, they are." Steve plopped on the recliner in Bucky's room. "I'm surprised they're taking so many risks to get you back, even before they lost all but one of the other super soldiers. Any idea why they're so invested in you?"
Bucky sat in the armchair, slouching and spreading his legs out. "Because of the information in my head, and because," he took a breath and looked over at Steve, "I'm the only Winter Soldier they were able to control so well and for so long."
"What are you talking about? They control the other soldiers, don't they?"
Bucky tilted his head back. "Barely. That's why they kept them on ice most of the time. They were Hydra's elite death squad. Violent. More confirmed kills than anyone. They enjoyed killing. They still do. The serum made them even more unstable. Half the time, they kill Hydra agents along with their targets." Bucky took a swig of his beer. "But they can control me."
There was a note of self-loathing Steve hated hearing in his friend's voice. "Hey, only because you're not a psycho. The serum didn't make you unstable."
Bucky huffed. "Didn't it?"
"You sitting here right now proves it didn't. You never enjoyed killing." Steve had always known that, even in the war.
Bucky was one hell of a sniper, but he didn't enlist voluntarily. He was drafted. Killing was never something he took pleasure in. He and Bucky had that in common.
Bucky finished his beer and pushed himself to his feet. "Guess I'd better turn in. Long day tomorrow."
"Mind if I sleep on the recliner again?" Steve wasn't sure what Shuri planned for Bucky in the morning, but he expected it would be another difficult day.
"Get some sleep in your own bed," Bucky said. "I'll see you in the lab tomorrow. I just want to chill alone tonight, okay?"
Steve nodded and rose. Bucky wanted space. He could give him that. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow."
-0- -0- -0-
Bucky was beginning to hate the lab. He sat on the edge of the table as Shuri reviewed a paper-thin glassy tablet. Steve was there again, on time, hovering against the wall and trying to stay out of the way.
"I've gotten a good baseline," Shuri said. "Yesterday allowed me to isolate the neural patterns of your brain that were formed before Hydra began their experiments." She set the tablet down, her face somber. "Today, I need to get a reading on the neural patterns of the Winter Soldier."
Bucky felt the air rush from his lungs. He gripped the edge of the table with his hands. Doctors Cho and Abodon noticed his discomfort and glanced quickly at one another, then at Shuri.
"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Dr. Abodon said.
Shuri leaned her hip against the table. She spoke quickly. "If we're to figure out how to remove the code word programming and de-activate the Winter Soldier, I need to get readings on what happens in your brain when those words are spoken and how your neural patterns change when the Soldier is activated. I'm sorry. I can see no other way to successful counter the programming without that information."
Well, this was it. Bucky studied a point on the far wall just past the young woman's head. He had a choice to make. Willingly let them activate the Winter Soldier or live his whole life knowing that ten words could steal his mind.
"We'll take precautions," she said. "Vibranium restraints should hold you, but from what I understand, the person who says the code words controls you?"
Bucky nodded, but inside he was crumbling. The Winter Soldier was the monster he never wanted released. Every time Hydra said the words, there was pain. It felt like dying. It was its own kind of torture.
"Then there should be little threat," Shuri said.
He didn't share her confidence. Not even he could be sure how he would react once the Soldier was activated. Would he be set back into his last unfinished mission—the mission to kill Steve?
What if Hydra had planted other bombs in his head? Other contingencies to prevent the wrong people from activating the Soldier?
He looked at the Dora Milaje standing guard a few feet behind Shuri. He needed to make sure the girl in front of him knew the risks—that her guards knew the risks.
"I have no control as the Winter Soldier. I don't know what I might do. I could kill you in a second, before your guards can even raise their spears," he told her.
He saw the three Dora Milaje tense. "You will not be able to harm the Princess. I assure you." He recognized her as Ayo from the brief introduction he'd gotten.
Bucky hopped off the table. The guards tensed, their grips tightening on their spears. "I don't think you really understand what you're risking."
Steve stepped forward. "With all due respect," he said, "Bucky's right. It's dangerous activating the Winter Soldier without significant precautions." He looked at Bucky. "This is your call, Bucky, of course."
Bucky nodded. "I'll only do this if you're the one to activate the Soldier." He trusted Steve with his mind. No one else.
"I will use vibranium restraints," Shuri assured him. "You won't be able to break out of them."
Bucky glanced down at his metal arm. He could do a lot more damage with it then without. He looked up at Dr. Cho.
"You said this arm is removable?" he asked her.
She nodded. "Yes, just below the shoulder."
"How easy is it to remove?"
Dr. Cho walked up to him. "Tony designed it so that an adversary would not be able to remove it, but you or one of us could." She pointed to one of the metal panels where the arm attached. "Press your thumb there."
He pressed his thumb on the panel, felt a subtle click.
"Now, remove your thumb, and quickly grab the wrist of your arm. Twist upward."
He followed her directions and felt a jolt in his shoulder and chest as the arm came off in his hand. He held it out, staring at it. Oddly, he thought he could feel the arm even as he held it, separated, in his right hand.
He handed it to Dr. Cho. "I'm a little safer without this."
She nodded as she took the arm. "I'll de-activate the ear implants for this session."
Shuri reached into the case and lifted a panel. She brought out a set of thick cuffs. The sight of them sent Bucky's heart into overdrive.
"These will secure your ankles," Shuri said. "I had some for your wrists, but without the arm, I'll attach it to a vibranium belt.
Five minutes later, Bucky was lying on the table, his ankles held together by thick restraints and his right arm attached to a belt around his waist. The neural scanners were in position on his head. His heart felt as though it were doing flip-flops in his chest. He was helpless again, and he hated it, but it was necessary. He tested the restraints, straining with everything he could muster, trying not to fall into the pit of bad memories the restraints provoked.
They'd hold.
"Are you okay, Bucky?" Steve was over him, looking down, putting a hand on his shoulder.
He saw the somberness in Steve's eyes, the ghost of pain, and tried to lighten the mood. "I swear," he managed a shaky smile, "if you make me cluck like a chicken, or something, I'll kick your ass when this is over."
Mission accomplished. Steve smiled, but it lasted only a minute, then Steve looked back at Shuri. "How will we de-activate the Soldier when we're done?"
Shuri looked uncertain. "I am not completely sure, but because James will still have his memory, it may be easier. He was able to escape the programming on the helicarrier and walk away from his captors. However, I am confident that once I get sufficient readings, I'll be able to reactivate the baseline neurons and snap him out of the Winter Soldier programming."
Bucky hoped Shuri was as smart as she was confident.
"I have a backup plan," Steve said. "FRIDAY, can you ask Wanda to come to the lab?"
After a moment, the AI responded. "I have relayed your message. She is on her way."
"Who is Wanda?" Shuri asked.
"Someone who can manipulate minds," Steve said. "If you can't pull Bucky out of the Winter Soldier programming, she might be able to."
Bucky closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. He didn't like the idea of Wanda or Shuri messing around in his head. He wasn't exactly the picture of mental stability. His mind was broken, abused, and he'd just barely managed to patch some of it back together. What if they broke it for good this time? What if they couldn't find a way to snap him out of the program?
Why was he agreeing to give up control and let the Winter Soldier take over?
He swallowed hard. He was doing this because he wanted a shot at being free.
"James…" Shuri began.
"It's Bucky," he reminded her, opening his eyes to look at her. She held the neural discs in her hand.
"Right," she said. "I'm going to activate the neural scanners at level one. It'll make you feel sleepy, but you'll be fully conscious. When Captain Rogers begins the activation sequence, the scanners will map and record the neural pathways activated in your brain."
"Okay." Bucky looked at Steve, focused on the one person in the room who had known him since before the Winter Soldier, and reminded himself the only way Steve or anyone else would be safe around him was if the Hydra programming was removed from his brain. "Steve, just get through it quickly. It's not exactly… pleasant."
Steve nodded, but his eyes told Bucky how much he hated doing this.
"You're sure about this?" Steve asked him.
Bucky nodded. "If I want my mind back, I have to do this."
"I won't let anything happen to you, and I won't let you hurt anyone."
Bucky tried for a smile but wasn't sure he succeeded. "I know."
Steve said the first word. "Zhelaniya."
Bucky felt the instant shift in his brain.
"Rzhavyy."
A ringing filled his skull, pressure built behind his eyes.
Steve continued, barely pausing between words, and the pressure in Bucky's head turned to pain. He felt himself fading away, the Soldier rising.
No.
He fought it, clawed at tenuous control, even as a part of him knew he needed to let go, to allow it to happen. It felt like dying.
Stop.
He was falling into an abyss, and the primal part of his mind—the part that was still James Barnes—fought to survive.
-0- -0- -0-
Working his way through the code was harder than Steve imagined. He saw the steely fear in Bucky's eyes as the third word left Steve's lips, watched Bucky struggle against the rest of the sequence, his chest heaving, his body trembling.
Bucky was terrified.
Steve almost stopped twice, but he powered through as quickly and steadily as he could, keeping his promise.
"Gruzovoy vagon."
On the last phrase, Bucky's struggles died, and his breathing steadied. His shoulders stiffened, and he stared up at the ceiling.
Steve took a breath. "Bucky?"
No reaction. He tried the other word, the one that felt like acid on his tongue. "Soldat?"
"Gotov podchinit'sya." Bucky responded flatly.
Steve knew what that meant. Ready to comply. The Soldier was active. Bucky was a prisoner of his own mind, and Steve had said the words to lock him up.
He hated this. He hated Hydra.
Steve looked to Shuri standing at the holographic display a few feet away. There was a three-dimensional projection of Bucky's brain, several sections glowing brightly. She raised her hand, zooming in, isolating sections.
Shuri looked at Steve. "Tell him to sit up on the table. I need to see how his brain responds to basic neutral commands."
Steve nodded. "Sit up."
Bucky lurched upward mechanically and swung his legs over the edge, sitting stiff and straight on the side of the exam table. His eyes remained straight ahead. His legs were still bound together, and his right arm was tethered to the vibranium belt.
Wanda walked into the lab, and Bucky's gaze darted to her, but he remained seated on the table. Steve placed his hand up, a silent gesture to Wanda to hang back. She nodded and leaned against the wall, out of the way.
"I need you to give him a few more commands, so I'm going to remove his arm restraint," Shuri said, grabbing a tool from the case and taking a step forward.
"No." Steve held up his hand. "You stay there. Tell me how to remove it."
Shuri handed him the tool. "You must be within three feet. Then simply point the end of this at the restraint and hold the button on the side for three seconds."
Steve took the tool and walked up to Bucky. It wasn't until he was standing in front of the man that Bucky looked at him.
"I'm going to unshackle your right arm," Steve told him. "Don't move."
Bucky remained still, offering no acknowledgment. Steve undid the wrist cuff. Bucky kept his arm in the same position as Steve handed the restraint and the tool to Shuri and returned to the table.
"Give him a few neutral commands so I can get some readings," Shuri said.
Steve stood remained in front of Bucky. "Relax you arm."
Bucky complied, his arm dropping to his side.
"Stand."
Bucky slid off the table, standing with his shackled ankles in front of Steve.
"Ask him basic questions," Shuri instructed.
"Like what?" Steve asked her.
"Does he know our names? His name? Does he know where he is?"
Steve nodded and looked at Bucky. "Do you know me?"
Bucky nodded.
Steve realized he'd have to ask questions in a way that required a verbal response.
"What is my name?"
"Steve Rogers." Bucky said.
"What is the name of the woman standing against the wall?" Steve pointed to Wanda.
"Wanda Maximoff," Bucky replied flatly.
"How do you know me?" Steve asked.
Bucky swallowed. "You were my mission."
Steve noticed the past tense phrasing. That was a good sign, at least. "Do you remember me from before I was your mission?"
Bucky's brow furrowed, but he didn't answer.
"What is your name?"
Bucky's eyes glimmered with confusion. His breathing quickened.
"What is your name?" Steve asked again.
Bucky's breathing steadied, and he looked straight ahead. "Soldat."
"Captain Rogers," Shuri interjected, "I will need you to give him a couple of commands Bucky will resist. I need to see what happens in his brain."
Steve got a sinking feeling in his stomach. "What type of command?"
"I have something ready." Shuri reached into a drawer and pulled out a handgun.
You've got to be kidding me. Steve stiffened. This was going too far. Shuri looked up and waved him over.
"I do not recommend this," Dr. Abodon spoke up. He and Dr. Cho had remained quiet observers thus far.
"Stay there," he told Bucky. "Do not move."
Bucky complied as Steve walked over to Shuri and whispered. "No. We're not doing this."
She grabbed a pen and pad and scribbled on it, then showed it to Steve. He read the words.
'The gun is modified. It can't fire. Even if it could, it's unloaded but weighted to mimic a loaded gun. Barnes must believe it to be real. I need information about what happens in his brain when he's ordered to kill—which is the primary task for which Hydra created the Soldier. I also need a command that your friend, James Barnes, would resist. The exercise will give me readings on how the Soldier overrides the will of James Barnes. He would not want to kill you, a friend he has known all his life. Such a command would yield useful data on what happens in his brain during such a conflict and potentially allow me to counter the Winter Soldier programming.'
Steve looked up at Shuri. "We should have talked about this first."
"I heard you had a busy evening yesterday."
Steve sighed. Message received. He hadn't been around. "Okay."
They'd come this far. If they had any hope of getting the program out of Bucky's head, they had to trust Shuri.
Steve took the gun and walked over to Bucky. He held it out. "Take this gun and kill me."
Bucky tilted his head only briefly and something Steve couldn't quite pinpoint flickered behind his blue eyes, then it was gone. Bucky took the gun and held it at Steve's head.
As Steve looked into the blue eyes of his friend and the barrel pointed at his head, he saw the shadow of Bucky behind that gaze. Bucky was still there, trapped. What had it been like for him, forced to kill, some part of him distantly aware, but helpless?
Bucky's finger squeezed the trigger. Nothing happened. He squeezed it several more times, but the gun didn't fire.
Bucky tilted his head, dropped the gun, and faster than Steve could react, grabbed him by the throat.
Steve was shoved backward against the wall with Bucky's crushing hand around his trachea. The Dora Milaje spring into action, spears at ready as they moved forward.
Steve shot them a hard look with his eyes to back off. The entire point of this was to help Bucky not kill him. Steve wrapped his hands around the one at his throat straining his neck muscles against Bucky's grip. He couldn't breathe, felt his lungs burning, but his fingers managed to pry Bucky's hand off his neck just as Wanda raised her hands, scarlet energy dancing at her fingertips.
"Bucky, Stop."
Bucky struggled, apparently realized his one hand was no match for Steve's two, and dropped to the ground, sweeping Steve's legs out from under him with bound ankles. They both crashed to the floor hard, with Bucky twisting on top of Steve at the last minute.
Steve couldn't figure out why the command wasn't working. Then, realized his mistake. "Soldat, Stop!"
Bucky instantly went still on top of Steve, chest heaving, eyes falling flat as he lifted himself up and stood at attention. Steve picked himself up and rubbed at his tender neck.
Well, this whole thing went cockeyed. Steve looked at Shuri. The obvious chagrin on her face reminded him of just how young she was. The Dora Milaje behind her lowered the ends of the spears to the ground and resumed their stiff stance.
"Are you all right, Captain Rogers?" Shuri asked.
Steve nodded and glanced at Wanda, who stood back against the wall, her shoulders and eyes tense. "Thanks for being ready," he told her.
It was a comfort to know she was there to assist. Unlike the Dora Milaje, she could do so without causing Bucky harm.
"If it's any consolation," Shuri added, "I believe I have all the data I need from this exercise."
"Great," Steve sighed, leaning against the wall as he stared at the stiff figure of his friend. "Now, how do we snap Bucky out of this?"
"Give me a moment." Shuri's fingers danced over the glass tablet.
The holographic image over the Kimoyo bead on the table shifted as different neurons fired and others went dark. The light pattern on the discs at Bucky's temples changed, and Bucky blinked. Steve saw his friend in those eyes as the blankness faded and a dark, indescribable emotion filled them. It lasted only a moment, then the Soldier returned.
"You almost had him," Steve said, keeping his eyes on his friend.
Shuri continued her work on the tablet. The pattern shifted again, and the discs beeped, but Bucky remained stoic, at attention. Shuri made further adjustments.
The discs beeped yet again, and Bucky flinched as if shocked, then blinked and wavered on his feet. Pain flashing across his face. He shuddered, losing his balance, and toppled forward over his bound legs. Steve caught him.
"Bucky?" Steve gently lowered Bucky to the floor, guiding him into a sit. "Are you back?"
Bucky's whole body trembled. When he looked up at Steve, his eyes were murky with a mixture of anguish and regret.
"Are you okay?" Bucky asked.
"Yes, don't worry about me." Steve kept his arm around Bucky's back, supporting him. "Let's get these restraints off you?"
Shuri retrieved the disconnect tool and handed it to Steve. He quickly undid the ankle and waist restraints, setting them aside.
"What the hell was that?" Bucky's eyes flashed with anger as he looked at the discarded handgun, then up at Steve.
"It was necessary," Shuri said.
"You fucking told me to kill you?" Bucky backed away and leaned against the wall.
"The gun wasn't loaded."
"You ordered me to kill you." Bucky scrubbed his shaky hand through his short hair. "Jesus, Steve."
Crap. Steve recalled his words and realized suddenly what Bucky was getting at. 'Take this gun and kill me.' Not 'squeeze the trigger.' No, he ordered the Soldier to kill him, and when the gun hadn't worked, the Soldier followed through to complete the mission.
"I should have phrased it more precisely." Steve said.
Bucky looked up at Shuri. "Tell me we won't ever have to do that again?"
The young woman's dark eyes looked heavy with regret. "Unfortunately, I cannot promise that we will not have to activate the Winter Soldier again. The only way to remove the programming is to invoke and capture it, but I will do my best to minimize the need. Any further activations will be to test protocols and removal attempts. No further unpleasant orders will be required. I needed to capture the neural patterns involved when you were given an order that posed a conflict between the Soldier and James Barnes."
"I know we've only just begun today's session," Steve said, "but can we take a fifteen-minute break?"
"Of course," Shuri nodded.
Bucky pulled off the neural discs, placed them on the exam table, and hurried past Wanda out of the lab. Steve followed and spotted Bucky down the hallway, leaning face-first against the wall, his forehead pressed against his arm.
Steve sighed and leaned back against the wall next to him. "This is going to be harder than we thought."
Bucky gave a harsh chuckle. "It was hell making the Winter Soldier. It's going to be hell unmaking him."
"I know. But we will."
"It's only been the second day, and I already tried to kill you," Bucky groaned.
"Hey, that's on me, and you weren't even close to killing me. Good call taking off the arm."
Bucky swiveled his head to look at Steve, and there was such anguish in his blue eyes that it stole Steve's breath. He leaned forward, shifting toward his friend.
"You didn't hurt me, Bucky. What is it?"
"I'm sorry." Bucky swallowed and buried his head in his arm.
"That wasn't your fault back there."
"It's all my fault," he croaked. "I let them turn me into this. After I fell off the train, I was in the snow a long time. I fought to stay alive. I should have just died."
Christ, Bucky. Steve had no hesitation when he reached out and pulled his friend against him. Bucky went limp, trembling.
"Please don't ever say that again," Steve whispered into his ear.
-0- -0- -0-
When they returned to the lab, Dr. Cho was gone, but Dr. Abodon, Wanda, and the Wakandans remained. Bucky hopped wordlessly back on the table and Steve walked up to Wanda. With Shuri hopefully finished activating the Winter Soldier, he didn't think Wanda needed to stay.
"Thank you for being available," Steve told the young Avenger. "I think we're good here for now."
Wanda tilted her head. "Call if you need me."
"Thanks."
She left and Steve turned back to the group.
"Before we begin," Dr. Abodon stepped forward. "I'd like to have a check-in moment, Bucky." The older man moved closer to Bucky. "If there's anything you don't want to do, you have the right to refuse. No matter how far anyone traveled or who's involved, you're the one who gets to call the shots when it comes to your mind, brain, and body."
Bucky nodded. "I know. Thank you." His voice was low, tired, and it was only ten in the morning.
Steve gave Abodon a grateful smile. It was easy sometimes to forget the impact 70 years of brainwashing and slavery had on Bucky's psyche—on his willingness to submit without complaint to things that would provoke objection from anyone else.
"What's next?" Steve asked Shuri.
"Another neural scanning session, but without Winter Soldier activation. Yesterday, I obtained baseline readings of your neural patterns prior to Hydra's experimentation and conditioning. This morning, I scanned and recorded the patterns associated with the Winter Soldier. Now, we'll focus on memories during your time with Hydra and as the Winter Soldier. My hope is to identify and isolate the neural pathways specific to the Winter Soldier. After some initial calibration, you will be in a light sleep.""
"We're going to need the restraints again," Bucky said.
"But we won't be activating the Winter Soldier."
"It already happened once when I was sleeping—at least the first few words of the sequence," Bucky explained.
"Very well." Shuri got the restraints ready and fastened them around Bucky's ankles, waist, and right arm. "Are you ready?"
He nodded.
She placed the neural scanners on his head and moved back to her control panel. Steve grabbed a stool and sat near the wall, a few feet from the table.
"I'm going to ask you to visualize when Hydra captured you after you fell from the train.
Bucky closed his eyes, and the holographic projection appeared. There were two beads on the table, and two projections. One showed trees, sky, and a snowy mountain range. The other showed Bucky's brain, zoomed in to show specific neural regions. Some neurons glowed; others were dark.
Russian voices spoke. A man loomed overhead, straps crossing his chest. Bucky was being dragged. The view tilted to his bloody stump and the red trail it made in the snow.
Shuri's hands glided over the tablet. The scene changed; this time Bucky was on a table. Doctors hovered overhead. A saw carved into what was left of his upper arm. His view tilted toward his torso. Straps held his chest to the table. A deep groan rumbled as his vision faded, then came back again. He was screaming, and Russian voices spoke quickly. A needle raised in the air, came down towards his neck.
The image went black for a moment, then sprang back. The same room, same doctors. Steve wasn't sure how much time had passed, but the sound of the saw could still be heard, along with a deep grumble—it sounded like Bucky had been coming to. Then a bigger groan. A shout in Russian. Someone giving a command.
The image shifted again. Bucky was still on the operating table, but he raised his metal arm, twisted it, looking at it. A doctor with glasses came close. The fist closed around the man's throat. Another needle, then the image went black.
Steve looked at the real-life version of Bucky restrained on the exam table. His eyes were closed, but his brow was creased. Steve wasn't sure whether he was fully asleep, but his chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm.
Shuri adjusted the tablet, then her fingers 'touched' part of the holographic brain, zooming in on a particular section of neurons. The other image came to life again. Bucky was seated in a chair—the same chair Steve had seen in the file and in the Siberian bunker during their mission with Bucky's future counterpart. The room was metal and cement. Electricity sizzled in the air. Screaming from the hologram filled the lab from the projection. Steve felt that sound like a shock in his gut.
"Is he in pain right now?" Steve asked, ready to stop the session.
Shuri's hand swept over the tablet, and the volume lowered. "No. This is merely a memory. For him, like an unpleasant dream."
Steve forced himself to keep watching — scene after scene showing moments of torture from Bucky's memories. The chair. Bucky in a room, lashing out at his captors. A large device that looked like a modified cattle prod jamming into him.
Steve saw thick chains around Bucky's ankle. Bucky was in a small, room, dimly lit by weak overhead lights. An empty, rusted chair was pushed against the far wall.
Two guards stood on either side of him, stiff and watchful. One held a gun, the other the modified electric prod the size of a child's baseball bat.
The sound of a woman's scream was heard from outside the room, faint but unmistakable, then gradually became louder, closer.
The door opened, and the screams intensified. Three men entered. Two carried a struggling, screaming woman. The woman looked young, but with her face contorted and her thrashing, her age was hard to guess. Her blonde hair flung wildly around her face as she fought her captors.
The two men pushed the woman into the chair and bound her wrists to its metal arms, then shackled her legs to rings sunk into the cement floor. She wore only a blue hospital-style gown with short sleeves. Her feet were dirty and bare.
She looked up, her chest heaving. A large gash near her left eye oozed blood. Her bottom lip was split and bleeding.
The Commander approached Bucky and held out a pistol. "Kill her." The man's Russian accent was thick, his voice hard.
The image shook, as though Bucky were shaking his head back and forth. The Commander returned the firearm to his side.
There was movement off to the side—the cattle prod. Bucky's screams filled the small room. On the table in the lab, Bucky's body jerked once, then the holographic display went black and quiet.
Steve was concerned. Bucky wasn't supposed to be feeling this. "Shuri?"
"I'm making adjustments." Her fingers tapped the screen.
The display resumed, showing Bucky awake again. A guard lowered a bucket. Water dripped from strings of hair around Bucky's face. The image shifted as Bucky looked up at his left arm, restrained to a reinforced metal wall. His legs no longer supported his weight as he hung from the arm.
A hard voice with a Russian accent spoke. "Now watch what your refusal has done."
One of the guards near the woman calmly undressed himself below the waist, then walked up to the woman and yanked up her gown.
The image went dark.
"Watch or I will kill her slowly."
The eyes opened, the gaze focused on the girl. The guard was on top of her. Her screams battered the air.
When it was finished, she sat, sobbing, as the guard calmly dressed himself. The Commander retrieved the pistol from his side and held it out.
"Shoot her."
Bucky sobbed, his image shifted back and forth, indicating that Bucky was shaking his head. The cattle prod found its mark again in Bucky's side.
"Watch what your refusal has done," the Commander ordered again.
The other guard slipped a large knife from a sheath around his belt and brought the blade down with a quick, hard stroke, slicing through two of the woman's fingers. She howled.
"Please…" Bucky appeared to struggle against the clamp holding his arm. The room spun.
The Commander held out the firearm. "Shoot her."
Bucky's weak, strained voice. "I…I…can't…"
The sound of electricity again, then the image went black for a few seconds. When it came back, the Commander was in front of Bucky.
"Watch what your refusal has done," the Commander ordered.
Steve turned his head away. He couldn't watch, but he listened as the sequence was repeated over and over again. The sounds were bad enough. Screams, the wet squish of soft flesh being mutilated, strangled cries…
Then the click of a gun.
Steve forced himself to look back at the image. The Commander smiled as the gun in Buck's right hand came down from his own temple.
Dear God. Steve blinked through tears. Bucky had tried to turn the gun on himself. The Russians obviously anticipated that. This was not the first time they'd used this brutal method to condition a subject to kill.
Bucky gave a guttural, despairing scream and the gun hit the Commander on the bridge of his nose with such force that the man's skull caved in. The Commander dropped, dead, as guards descended on Bucky.
The image went blank again, but, for a fleeting moment, Steve saw the bloody, mutilated woman in the chair. He wasn't sure she was still alive.
When Bucky came to next, there was a different man with the gun. The torture continued. It seemed impossible that the woman was still alive, much less conscious. Steve looked away again. Each time, the Commander ordered Bucky to shoot her, and each time his refusal led to torture for the woman.
Finally, the sound of a gunshot filled the room, and the woman's screams silenced. Steve looked back just in time to see the gun drop from Bucky's hand and the image flicker to black.
Bucky came to in the same room, a needle in his view being yanked backward from his chest as a man in a lab coat scrambled backward. Bucky screamed, a sound Steve couldn't imagine coming from a human. The restraints gave. Bucky lurched forward, still tethered by his metal arm.
His scream was primal, determined, animal, and then he was suddenly free, careening toward the Commander, his right hand reaching out and sending the man's skull slamming hard into the floor in one fluid motion. The image tilted as Bucky collapsed, staring at the bloody wreckage of his left shoulder.
Dear Lord in Heaven. Steve swallowed bile in the back of his throat. Bucky had torn the metal arm from his body to free himself and kill the Hydra Commander.
The image went blank again. Steve looked to Shuri. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She looked nauseous. Even the normally stoic Dora Milaje seemed taken aback, disbelief and horror in their eyes. Dr. Abodon was silent, seated in a chair by the opposite wall. His hands were folded on the table, and he was facing away from the display, his gaze on his entwined fingers. Bucky's detached vibranium arm rested on the table next to Abodon.
Steve didn't think he could take much more of this, but goddamnit, Bucky had lived it.
Shuri ended the holographic display. "This is all for today," her voice quivered. "I'm sorry. Tomorrow is my last day here. We can meet back at 7 a.m." Then, she packed up her beads, left the tool to remove the restraints on the table, and marched quickly out of the room.
The Dora Milaje followed her. The one Steve knew as Ayo hovered a moment at the door. Her dark eyes went to Steve, then to Bucky still on the table, his eyes closed, the neural scanners on his head.
Ayo picked up the tool and moved closer to Bucky. Her eyes held sympathy as she looked down at him. Gently, she reached out and removed the restraints, setting the thick shackles over the tip of her spear and letting them slide down to her hand. Then she reached out with her other hand and removed the neural scanners, slipping each one into a small pocket of her uniform.
She looked back at Steve and gave him a tight nod, then spun and left the room.
Bucky's eyelids fluttered open, he looked disoriented as he took in the room. His gaze found Steve, and he swallowed hard as he sat up. Steve put a hand on his shoulder, helping him.
"How are you feeling?" Steve asked.
He wasn't sure how much of the session Bucky remembered. Shuri said he'd be in a light sleep. Would he remember things like a dream? Would the dream linger or vanish when he woke?
"I…I don't know." Bucky's voice was laced with fatigue. "Worn out, I guess."
"What do you remember from this session?"
Bucky shook his head. "I'm not sure… I was dreaming, I think." His brow furrowed. Then he took a breath and realization sprang in his blue eyes. "The girl." He gasped, leaning forward and scrubbing his hands over his face. "I was dreaming about her."
Steve gave Bucky's shoulder a hard squeeze and looked up at Abodon, who was still seated at the table, staring at Bucky with pained eyes.
Abodon took a breath, collecting his emotions, and got to his feet. "Bucky, do you—"
"No," Bucky shook his head. "I'm exhausted. I just want to go to the room."
Dr. Abodon picked up the vibranium arm and gave it to Steve. With a silent nod of thanks and his hand on Bucky's shoulder, Steve guided his friend out of the lab.
-0- -0- -0-
Back in the room, Steve handed the vibranium arm to Bucky. He took it, looked at it for a long moment, then set it on the kitchen counter and went to the recliner.
Steve glanced at the clock. It was only three in the afternoon, and they'd both skipped lunch. Steve's stomach wasn't up for food, not after what he'd just witnessed. He didn't know whether Bucky was hungry.
Before he had a chance to ask, FRIDAY announced that Sam was at the door. He told her to let him in and, a second later, Sam entered carrying two large brown bags from the local steakhouse.
"I heard it was quite a…day." Sam eyed Steve, then Bucky on the couch, and set the bags on the counter, glancing at the vibranium arm. "You didn't get a lunch break."
Steve smiled at his friend. "Thank you, Sam."
From the couch, Bucky gave a backhanded wave in Sam's direction. He slouched, looking exhausted, staring at the floor.
Steve hoped Bucky would eat. If not, the food could keep. He peered into the bag and took out a large plastic container. The clear lid showed a sizable steak, mashed potatoes, and broccoli. Normally, the smell would send his mouth salivating. Now, it only turned his stomach.
He grabbed a large glass from the cabinet, filling it with water from the refrigerator since Bucky had little to drink all day. Then, he took the glass and container over to Bucky and set both on the coffee table in front of the recliner. Sam appeared with napkins and utensils.
Bucky looked up at them with a lopsided smile. His eyes were dark, hooded. "Thanks."
"I already ate lunch," Sam said. "I'll leave you two be, but if you need anything, just holler."
Steve nodded and clasped Sam on the shoulder. "Thanks, man."
Bucky downed the water in one gulp, set it back down on the table, and pulled the container onto his lap. He popped open the lid, ignoring the utensils, and picked up the steak with his one hand.
Steve realized the utensils were pretty useless with Bucky's one arm, but Bucky didn't seem to want to re-attach it yet.
"That'd be a whole lot easier with two arms," Steve said.
"I think it's best if we just keep that thing away from me until the Wakandans are finished messing with my head," Bucky replied softly, then took a big bite of steak.
"I'm going to hit the gym for a little bit. You wanna come?"
Bucky shook his head. "I don't know why I'm so exhausted. I was sleeping in the lab, right?"
"It wasn't a very restful sleep," Steve replied.
Bucky was silent, staring at the food on his lap. Finally, he asked in a low voice. "Back in the lab, how much did everyone see?"
Steve sagged against side of the recliner. "A lot."
The side of Bucky's jaw twitched. "With the girl?"
"I think…everything."
Bucky's chest expanded with a quick, deep breath. "I wish you hadn't seen that."
Steve wasn't quite sure how to respond. He wanted to tell Bucky no one thought any less of him and he had nothing to be ashamed about, but that seemed laced with blame.
Finally, he just said, "You were both victims of evil men. You ended her suffering."
Bucky looked up with shimmering, anguished eyes that cut into Steve's soul and whispered, "Not soon enough." Then he dropped his gaze back to his lap. "Can you give me some space?"
Steve sighed and nodded. "I'll check back in a bit."
Bucky waved him away, looking like he was trying for an air of casualness but failing. "Go on. Do your thing." He looked over at Steve and managed a smile that reeked of sadness. "Thanks for today…for being there to make sure I didn't…you know."
Steve hadn't been there for 70 years when Bucky really needed him. He couldn't make up for that, but he could change it going forward. "You and me 'til the end of the line, right?"
Bucky's smile grew a bit more genuine. "Thanks again man. By the way, take some of the food with you and get some sleep. You look like hell."
Steve tried for a chuckle, but it came out more like a croak. He covered it with a smile, grabbed a container from the bag, and headed out.
He stopped in his room briefly to set the container in his small refrigerator and change into sweats before making his way to the gym. It was only then, when he was alone in the gym and pounding the hell out of a reinforced punching bag, that he let the tears fall.
Author Note:
FYI, the scene with the girl in the hospital gown was first described in Part 2 of this series - Winter Soldier's Endgame (as a reminder, Part 2 and Part 3 are separate stories taking place in two different timelines, both stand alone from one another). In that story, it was explained that Hydra worked Bucky over a bit too much and almost lost him. They injected him with a cocktail of drugs to revive him. I envision cardiac stimulants like epinephrine and other experimental chemicals designed with super soldiers in mind.
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