There was no way to tell how much time had passed down in the holding cells but Steve thought it had been a few hours since Bucky had been taken away. Long enough at least that the blood trail his dragging feet had left behind looked to have dried in the cement. Steve felt sick every time he looked at it. The first twenty minutes or so after Bucky had been taken Steve had spent punching and kicking at his cell door. Bruises and cuts had formed and healed, and a few bones had cracked but he had only stopped when it was clear the metal walls of his cell were not budging. He hated how prepared Hydra had been for his capture.

The rest of the Commandos didn't look any more pleased than he did. Most of the guys were still pacing their cells, upset and anxious with one of their own taken away. Again. They all looked at Steve every few minutes with a glimmer of hope but he avoided their eyes, ashamed he had no plan to get them out of there. No plan to save Bucky from whatever hell they were putting him through. All they could do was wait.

They all turned at the sound of footsteps approaching and Steve prayed it was Bucky being returned, that the bastards had finished whatever horrible tests they had wanted to run and would bring them all together again.

His wide eyes turned into a glare when he saw it was Commander Streicher back yet again. There was no sign of Bucky but Streicher had two men with him wheeling along a cart with a black box on it.

"Captain, I thought you and your men might be bored so I brought you some entertainment to help pass the time."

"You can shove it up your ass," Steve said. "Where the hell's Bucky?"

"Give it a chance Captain," Streicher continued, ignoring Steve's question. "I find it quite soothing myself."

Steve looked behind Streicher to see the guards were fiddling with some reels of audio recording tape and a speaker. Expecting German propaganda of some kind to start echoing through their cells, Steve ground his teeth together and stayed silent, hoping his lack of response would make Streicher tire of this game sooner. But Streicher only looked pleased as he nodded at one of his men.

The guard hit play. The audio reels began to roll and there was static for a moment. Then a woman began speaking and it was not at all what Steve had expected to hear.

"Pain tolerance tests, Sargeant James Barnes, March 12, 1945. Previous test results of subject lost but believed by Doctor Zola to ..." The voice was that of the woman that had dragged Bucky away. Steve couldn't be sure but he thought he heard something muffled in the background amongst the static.

"What the hell is this?" Steve demanded, though the answer was obvious. Streicher looked euphoric and said nothing, rocking back on his heels, finding the recording as blissful as a concerto.

" ... we will begin testing accordingly at 40,000 volts at 0.5 amperage," the woman continued.

"Ready," said the man.

"Applying voltage."

There was a whine of electricity and Bucky's muffled shouts became screams, managing to pierce straight into Steve's heart even through whatever they had gagged him with.

"You sick bastards!" Steve shouted. Losing himself for a moment he made a desperate grab for Streicher through the bars even though the man stood much too far away. Bucky was still screaming.

Around the hall the reactions varied. Dernier covered his ears and retreated to the back of his cell. Falsworth and Dugan gripped the bars of their cell, itching for a fight, while Morita and Gabe shut their eyes and ground their teeth. They left it to Steve to speak up.

"Turn it off."

Streicher made no indication he'd heard him, instead he frowned as the electric whir finally faded along with Bucky's screams.

"Subject remains conscious," the man on the tape said, clearly examining Bucky who was panting loudly while the man rattled off several numbers regarding pupil dilation, heart rate and blood pressure.

Steve held his breath, hoping that was the end.

"Preparing for second test. Increasing voltage by 2,500. Applying voltage."

Steve hadn't seen the guards touch the volume dials but he was sure this scream was louder than the last and drilling straight into his brain.

"Turn it off!" he shouted, slamming a fist against the bars of his cell. The screams were driving him mad. Bucky was so close, somewhere nearby and in the building, yet still alone and suffering because Steve hadn't protected him.

Streicher only rocked back and forth again, enjoying Bucky's screams like a soft melody.

Steve growled and did the only thing he could think of to make it stop. Tearing off his steel toed boot, he hurled it through the air. A regular throw might have done no damage to the stereo equipment, but Steve had the rage of a super soldier behind him and the projectile hit the speakers with enough force to tip the entire cart over, smashing the equipment into pieces across the floor.

The Commandos sighed in relief. Dernier even sagged down to his knees. Steve looked at Streicher who frowned but didn't seem too put out.

"A shame Captain, the next hour or so was really quite good. The crying was going to start in a few minutes. Or do you think if you don't listen it means it didn't happen?"

"I think that I'm going to kill you for what you did to my friend and that his screams will be nothing compared to what I'll do to you."

Streicher grinned and turned to leave, glancing at the guards as he passed. "Get that cleaned up then have another copy brought to the loud speaker system for the base. Everyone deserves to hear something so lovely as the Americans being broken within our walls."

The guards saluted and cleaned up the broken speaker system while Steve leaned his head against the bars and tried to forget the sound of Bucky's screams.

When the guards were finished they rolled their cart away and Steve looked straight at Dernier.

"Tell me you got something good."

Dernier glanced down the hall, saw the coast was clear then held up a long metal sliver and a jagged piece of plastic, both clearly broken off the cart and stereo equipment.

"Let's hope," he said, leaning through the bars to test if the pilfered materials would fit into the lock. After a few minutes of creative French swearing, a few chips in the plastic and some bends in the metal, they all heard the most beautiful sound of their lives.

Click.

The door to Dernier's cell slid open. He snuck towards Steve, grabbing his boot off the floor as he passed, and had the lock open in a few moments. Steve nodded his thanks.

"Get the others out, then we get Bucky and blow this place to hell."

"Yes sir."

As Dernier crept to Dum Dum's cell next, Steve worried that he had no idea where Bucky was in this massive place. Then his eye caught the trail of blood that led out to the end of the hallway and he hoped no one had been around to clean the rest of the base yet that day.

As Bucky's eyes fluttered open his whole body felt like it was on fire. He shifted and gasped, every muscle in his body still spasming from the electrical shocks that had thankfully ended when he lost consciousness. Still, it was a few moments before he could force any air into his lungs. With each breath the pain seemed to die down a little more, being replaced with exhaustion and bone weariness. His eyes longed to close again but he heard voices nearby and forced himself to listen.

"85,000 volts before loss of consciousness, a 70% increase in the subject's pain tolerance. Quite impressive. Dr. Zola's research is truly remarkable," Elinga said

Bucky flinched when fingers suddenly pulled open his eyelid and a light was shone in his eye.

"Subject has regained consciousness in half the time noted before the procedure as well," Hershing said, ringing with excitement as he ignored Bucky's moans and moved to the next eye for examinations. Bucky was still strapped down and muzzled and wondering why he had fought his way back to consciousness at all.

"What are our next steps?"

Elinga shuffled through her papers. "The instructions for Phase 2 have been provided but I'm not certain if we're authorized to proceed."

Bucky listened carefully now. Could they really be done with him already?

"Phase 2," Hershing repeated, a note of awe in his voice. "Have we been directly instructed not to proceed?"

"No."

"Well then, let's continue. Science waits for no one, not even Dr. Zola."

Bucky closed his eyes in frustration at the same time Elinga sighed, seemingly less enthused.

"We'll take detailed notes," Hershing promised. "And record everything. Dr. Zola will likely thank us for saving him from having to take these steps himself."

"Very well, let's prepare the injections."

Of course they couldn't wait for Zola, Bucky mused, that would just be too good to be true. He could barely turn his head but was able to see that the two scientists were across the lab mixing chemicals. In some way he wanted to know what they were, what they would do to him, but more than that he wanted to be free so focussed on pulling at his restraints yet again. He could feel his wrists and ankles bruising, and noticed Elinga shoot him at least one annoyed glance but really, what did they expect him to do, just lie here? Not a chance. Ignoring the pain he put all his weight into one massive tug, then he froze. Had that been a ripping sound by his right wrist? He pulled again and felt the slightest bit of give.

Holy hell.

He looked back over. They were still working but Elinga was already filling a syringe with some blue substance they had mixed together. He pulled again. There was another small tear but the cuffs were strong, he would need a few more minutes to rip them entirely. The two scientists were coming back over to him. Dammit, he needed more time.

Hershing took the syringe from Elinga and motioned her towards the recording equipment.

"Make certain we're ready to record, we can take audio notes for the Doctor."

As the man came closer to him Bucky increased his struggles, making little attempt to hide the progress he had made in tearing his restraints. He didn't need to anyway, Hershing ignored his protests yet again, giving him all the respect of a frog on an examining table.

"Ready to record."

"Ready for injection."

Bucky screamed and fought as Hershing rolled his left sleeve up to reveal his upper arm.

There was a click from the audio equipment, just enough to cover the further ripping sound of the right restraint, but Bucky still wasn't free and had no idea what this injection would do to him.

"Recording."

"Subject James Barnes is currently conscious, aware and resisting to our research. All vitals have been noted on record and we are administering the phase two serum now."

Bucky pulled and felt the cuff come halfway free just as the needle pricked his arm. Then there was nothing at all. His breathing evened out, his body went slack, not resting, not about to pounce but still. Waiting. His eyes softened and he stared straight ahead at the ceiling, his mind as blank as the tiles above him.

"Remarkable," Hershing whispered, then remembered himself. "Subject was not informed of the desired effects of the injection and has gone docile almost instantly. His eyes are open and he appears to be conscious but all resistance has ceased."

Joining him at the table Elinga unbuckled the strap over Bucky's mouth.

"Soldier, can you hear us?"

"Awaiting instructions," Bucky answered without inflection.

"Remarkable," Hershing whispered again, scribbling notes furiously. "The reaction with the previous injections was instantaneous, even after all these months. Total compliance."

"Perhaps the length of time since the first injections is the cause of the success. His body has become accustomed to the changes made to him previously and adapted. It may explain the lack of cardiac arrest and mental breakage we saw in other subjects."

"Either way, Doctor Zola will be very pleased."

Neither of them noticed the twitch in Bucky's jaw at the mention of Zola's name.

"He's too compliant of course though," Elinga said. "He'll accept suggestions from anyone in this state, not just Hydra."

"The process needs refinement, but an excellent first step," Hershing said. He looked down and laughed to see Bucky so easily turned docile after viciously threatening them only a short time ago. "I'd like to see our soldier try to kill us all now."

He got his wish when Bucky's right hand wrapped firmly around his neck, the torn leather strap dangling from his wrist. Hershing could draw no breath to speak but managed a shout of pain as Bucky threw him across the room into Elinga, causing them both to topple over a table of instruments. By the time either of them looked up Bucky had freed himself of the rest of his restraints and was striding towards them, a scalpel in each hand. There were no guards in this room, no weapons either, but Bucky had made due. He slit their throats before either of them could speak.

Dropping the scalpels he retrieved his boots, pulled them on, then searched the lab, finding two knives more suited to his purpose. Making his way to the door he found a place for them immediately in the necks of the guards outside. Stowing the knives in his belt he stripped the weapons off the bodies and stalked down the hall. Now he was ready for his mission. Kill all of Hydra.

TBC

Whumpity whump whump whump. Sorry for anyone hoping for damsel in distress Bucky. Steve was taking too long so ...

Thoughts?