They were in the woods not far from a battle. The sounds from it were intense and their little squad probably should have been worried, but their bigger concern at the moment was finding clean water. They hadn't had any in almost two days. Actually, they'd just found water; a whole tub of it in fact. That wasn't the problem. The problem was it was contaminated and they had no way to cleanse it.
Well, Bucky did. And as he glanced around at his squad's faces, taking in the pale skin and depressed expressions, he knew it was worth exposing his secret. They were all exhausted and they needed this water desperately. Bucky sighed and knelt next to the metal bin. It had been a while since he'd asked for anything, but he knew Steve could do this much. Even as far away from the ocean as they were.
He dropped his fingers into the cold water and was met with a warm embrace. What felt like fingers caressed his hands with tender, welcome touches. "Hello, Steve." He thought, prayed, and the water hummed with Steve's pleasure in response, sending a wave of warmth down his spine. "I know this is a small thing, but could you purify this water for us?" He requested.
A tingling sensation started in his chest and spread through his arms down to his fingers then into the water. It went from concerningly murky to perfectly clear almost instantly and Bucky smiled. "Thanks, Stevie." He prayed, and it felt like someone kissed his fingers. He pulled his fingers out and sat back panting, because no matter how used to the feeling he was and no matter how strong his blessing, it didn't change the fact that a Primordial's power had just coursed through his very mortal body.
"Oh my god, Bucky, how did you do that?" 'Dum Dum' Dugan was the first to notice and the first to speak up. Bucky flashed him and the others a smile.
"I'm blessed. A water god. Thought maybe he could purify the water and…" He gestured to the tub of fresh water as if to say 'see?'. "Drink up, guys." He added and after a moment they fell on the tub like hounds. Not that Bucky could blame them. He let the others have their fill before he drank some himself, using his hands to cup the water because he loved feeling Steve connected to him and because it was amusing to watch the other guys stare as not a drop slipped from between his fingers.
The water was more than just refreshing. Bucky could feel it warming him and healing him from the inside out. "Don't push yourself too hard, Stevie." Bucky warned and he felt Steve's laughter like it was a physical thing, followed by the sensation of someone caressing his hands still dipped into the water. He didn't get actual words, but the answer was simple; I'm not.
"Thanks again, Steve." Bucky thought, to which Steve actually massaged his wrists, even pushed the water up to reach a little further up his arms before it slipped back into the water and Bucky pulled his hands free, brushing off the excess onto his trousers.
"Jesus, Bucky. How powerful is your god?" Morita asked and Bucky just shrugged. He wasn't sure how to answer, because telling people you had been blessed by The Primordial God of Water wasn't exactly wise. But he didn't get a chance to say anything as bullets and blasts of blue energy suddenly exploded through the area.
Bucky ducked behind the tub of water and everyone else dove for cover nearby. As soon as the bullets stopped he drew his gun and started firing back, as did his squad. It was a fierce confrontation, but short. Many of the goons they were facing had the strange, extremely powerful blue-powered weapons Bucky had seen once or twice before in the field, but now they almost all seemed to have them and they were far stronger than bullets.
"Surrender." He was ordered at gunpoint. His own weapon was still in his hand but he knew pointing it at the man threatening him would result in his instant death. He glanced around at his squad. Dugan had been wrestled to the ground by two of them. Falsworth, Jones, and Dernier were all being held at gunpoint nearby and unarmed. Morita still had his gun, but also had a bloody nose and a gun to his head.
Bucky swallowed, grit his teeth, and tossed the gun aside. "We surrender." He said as clearly as possible while he put up his hands. The man glanced at Morita, who met Bucky's eyes and got a nod before he tossed aside his own gun.
Immediately they were set into motion. Ordered to keep their hands on their heads as they were put in a line and marched quickly through the woods with guards on either side. Bucky was in front and hated it because he only had sound to use to tell how his men were doing. Dugan was definitely hurt because he kept groaning softly from just behind Bucky. Further away he could hear someone limping and someone was shuffling their steps, but he couldn't tell if it was the same person or not. But unless someone fell he didn't want to risk angering their guards to check so they kept on marching in silence through the trees.
They were slowly joined by other groups of prisoners, other squads who stayed loosely grouped together with the unlikely hope of being kept together. There were about 60 of them, and only about 45 guards, but the guards were well positioned and carried the special energy guns. They were marched through the night and by the time the sun was high enough to warm them Bucky knew he wasn't the only exhausted one. He was more thankful than ever for the water they'd managed to find because if they hadn't he certainly would have collapsed by now.
The base they reached was enormous and Bucky even knew its name because it had been tauntingly marked on their maps for ages. The place that prisoners couldn't be rescued from, no matter how close to the line it was. It was the place that POWs didn't come back from, didn't escape from. Were worked to the bone and supposedly even tested on. And where officers were tortured worse than anywhere else, if rumors were to be believed.
Azzano.
Bucky swallowed and refused to let himself show any fear. The men needed him to be strong so he would be. They were marched to a large patch of dirt and pushed into lines with an arm's length between each of them. Then a man stepped out of the building in front of them. He was older and had dark hair, stood tall and regal with a sleek expensive black uniform-esc outfit. There was an arrogance to his stance that made Bucky slightly jealous and it was obvious he was someone important. At his side was a stout nervous man in a white coat with glasses.
The taller looked them over almost disdainfully and Bucky, like most of the men, refused to bow his head to the man's stare. He stepped off the cement block and started walking between them, looking them over. He pointed out a few, who were immediately separated, and Bucky swallowed hard because it was basically everyone ranked above private.
When one of the sergeants in his row was pointed out, he made a grab at the man in black. He was thrown to the ground immediately and his shoulder snapped loudly enough it echoed as it was twisted in an unnatural angle. Bucky flinched as the man screamed in pain. He wasn't the only one. Two of the guards grabbed the man, dragged him out of the neat lines as he wailed, and shot him in the head.
Bucky couldn't watch. Just closed his eyes and swallowed hard when the man's body slumped to the ground, then kept his eyes closed as he took a breath through his nose before fixing his shoulders. A humm from in front of him made his eyes fly open and he almost flinched again as the taller man now stood in front of him, looking at his face closely. After a moment he called "Dr. Zola." The heavy accent startled Bucky for a moment, though he realized belatedly that it shouldn't have.
The stout doctor hurried over from where he had been looking over the other officers the man in black had pointed out. Bucky did his best to keep his expression as free from fear as possible as the short man looked him over and refused to meet either of their eyes, just stared past them determinedly at nothing. "Your arm, please." Dr. Zola ordered, with an accented voice that surprisingly wasn't German.
Bucky slowly lowered his left arm from his head and held it out. Dr. Zola ran his hands over it as he examined Bucky's muscles and Bucky had to resist the urge to shiver uncomfortably because the only one who'd ever touched him even remotely like this was Steve. Who was a totally different case. "Doctor?" The taller man asked and Zola nodded.
"Yes, he'll do wonderfully." Zola confirmed and immediately two of the HYDRA soldiers came and grabbed him by the biceps. Bucky didn't fight but they half dragged him over to the other group anyway. He risked a glance at his squad as he was taken past them. Dumdum looked furious. Morita had blood streaks from his nose, but it looked like it had stopped bleeding. He was concerned. Dernier was swaying slightly, clearly out of it, and looked a little too pale. Jones looked resigned. And Falsworth offered him the briefest flash of a smile.
Bucky could only nod slightly in reply before he was placed next to the other officers. They all stood there, hands on their heads, until the sun was high in the sky beating down on them. He was sweating, but it wasn't as bad as working a long summer shift in Brooklyn. Eventually they were taken into a building, a smaller separate one from the other soldiers, and Zola began directing the HYDRA soldiers in a language Bucky didn't know but could safely assume was German.
The other officers were taken off, one by one, and then Zola finally said something about him and it was his turn. They dragged him down the halls and Bucky couldn't help trying to memorize the way. Just in case. He doubted he'd get free, but it was better to know how to escape if the opportunity did arise. The room he was brought to was made of brick and separated into two parts. The first was an almost office space while the other was larger and contained an exam table with a strange metal contraption over it.
The guards stripped him of his jacket before he was secured to the table hard enough the straps dug into his skin. Once the guards had backed up he gave an experimental push against them, but they didn't give at all. He took a deep breath through his nose and closed his eyes. No matter what happened, no matter what they did, he was determined not to give up a word.
Bucky had no idea how long it had been, but he knew it had been at least days. Probably weeks. His whole body ached constantly and he felt like all his senses had been dialed up to twenty. It made everything painful; every sound made his eardrums throb, everything was like sandpaper on his skin, every light burned his retinas. At least he seemed to heal quickly from the torture wounds.
Too quickly, probably, but he'd stopped caring about the time the first injection's fever finally wore off and he realized that opening his eyes in anything other than the darkest of nighttime burned. This was the first day they had unstrapped him from the table though. They dragged him through the halls and Bucky struggled to keep his focus on what was happening to him as he could hear cries of pain coming from outside that he knew the guards couldn't hear.
They brought him to a room he'd never seen, with some kind of square cement box in the middle. It wasn't big enough to comfortably fit him in, but they could probably squish him inside if they wanted. Bucky really hoped they didn't.
One of the guards he recognized immediately, though whose name Bucky still didn't know despite the fact that aside from Zola this was the man he spent the most time with. The one who always asked actual questions about the war and the Allies and what they were doing. Who actually tortured him for information, instead of Zola's excruciating experiments. "You will answer me today." The man ordered.
"Sergeant James Buchannan Barnes, 107th, 32557." He replied firmly, prepared to keep repeating that mantra over and over until he either died or got out of here. The man didn't even let him finish speaking, though, before he kicked off the wooden cover from the cement square and suddenly it wasn't air Bucky was trying to breathe; it was water.
He jerked, having accidentally inhaled because he'd been speaking, and thankfully the guards pulled him back up immediately. He coughed out the water and was able to get a few breaths before they shoved him under again. This time he was better prepared, even if his head was still swimming, and he managed not to inhale any water though it was a near thing. When they pulled him it again he inhaled the air desperately and the man looked him over.
"Where are the nearest Allied bases to Azzano?" The man demanded and Bucky winced slightly at the sound because it was way too loud for his sensitive ears.
"Sergeant…" He started only to be shoved back underwater. He realized a couple of things immediately. One, it wasn't as loud as outside and did he ever love the quiet of being underwater. Two, the water was warmer than the first two times he'd been dunked, and he was pretty sure it wasn't just that he'd gotten used to it. And thirdly, he was in water. Water, meaning Steve.
"Steve…" He had just started to pray when he was pulled back up and he felt the way the water clung to him like Steve was trying to keep hold of him. His body inhaled, but he only distantly noticed the burn in his lungs. Didn't hear if the man asked any questions. He just waited to be shoved back under and thankfully his request was granted.
Immediately the feeling of hands cradled his face. The touch was gentle, soothing, and possessive all at once. He knew Steve could feel his pain and in return he felt Steve's rage. "I need help." He requested. "Please, Steve." He begged, though he knew he didn't need to.
He felt Steve's grip on his face tighten minutely, not enough to hurt, and felt a kiss on his forehead. He didn't need words to know what it meant. 'I'm coming for you.' And that was enough to put a smile on his face.