He's falling.
It's cold.
It's cold and he's falling and Steve is staring out of the train with horror on his face.
Oh, he thinks. It's the end of the line.
He hits the ground and it's cold and there's snow and pain, oh, god, everything hurts make the pain stop please no stop it let me die I should be dead no.
He's covered in snow and there's people, there's people talking but he can't make it out, everything still hurts and his head is too fuzzy, he can't think, what's happening, where's Steve, Stevie?
He's moving and he can hear people again but he can't summon the energy to open his eyes and he can't focus on the words, indistinct murmurs, he feels like he's floating, his arm, oh god, his arm, it hurts, why does it hurt, he can't move his fingers, is Steve here?
He doesn't so much wake up as slam back into consciousness. He can't move his fingers or his bicep what's going on and he only has awareness for a moment before painpainpain. His nerves light up and he's burning, it won't stop, what's happening, he's screaming, it echoes off the walls, his feet scramble to find a way to get away, it doesn't work, bare feet cold metal tables walls that echo, someone is sobbing is it him?
He sinks into the dark.
He wakes in a dank cell concrete with a moldy mattress and threadbare blanket, hole in the corner for waste, metal door with a slot at the bottom.
He's alone and his shoulder burns in pain.
He looks to see what's wrong with his arm.
He screams.
His arm's gone, why, what happened, no, metal lines the socket and he can feel the buzz of electricity tingling in his shoulder and where his arm should be why is he in a cell has he been captured again where is Stevie oh god not again.
He screams and screams until three men wearing black uniforms burst through the door he tries to fight, it doesn't work and he's hit on the head hard enough to daze him, towed through dim hallways cold and identical and fuck he's been captured he doesn't know if he can go through this again.
He bares his teeth in a snarl, tries to rip his arm oh god oh god he only has one arm fuck no no please out of the guard's hold. The guard brushes off his efforts with ease in the back of his head he feels the slightest bit insulted but everything is washed out in a blinding white haze of panic and pain.
He tries again and the guard sighs heavily and reaches for something on his hip.
He sees the baton coming at his temple before everything returns to black.
He comes to strapped to a metal chair. There's metal restraints all over him clamped tight so he can't move and panic begins to overwhelm him and a short, small man with a badly receding hairline steps forward.
The man addresses him by name and tells him just what they're going to do to him in a heavy German accent. Superserum booster, exposure to poisons and illnesses, pain resistance training.
His body's gone numb and he thinks he's in shock.
"But first… Well, we must get rid of those pesky memories of yours."
His eyes widen and his heart pounds. Metal comes down to cover his face as the back of the chair lowers. He tries to get out of the restraints but he can't bend metal.
"Welcome to HYDRA, Sergeant Barnes."
Pain.