Bucky was numb.
He couldn't feel most of his body, his arm in particular. He could feel his right arm, but not his left. He couldn't move.
A light came on, too bright to allow Bucky to see. He squirmed, trying to move all his body that he could.
Suddenly, a high-pitched drilling sound filled the air, like a crude version of a dentist's drill. Bucky felt fear drip down his spine like a cold syrup, melding around his bones and chilling them.
Suddenly, a long, sharp pain, like an intense bee sting, ruptured through Bucky's shoulders, making a disgusting clacking noise when it hit bone. Bucky screamed and screamed until his lungs barely breathed, and only then did he hear their voices.
"Alright, I have made an incision into the medial of the scapula, please apply the synthetic infraspinatus now." He was being operated on. Whoever was operating knew their stuff, as he didn't understand most of the terms. The voice was robotic, and Bucky didn't trust it.
How long had he even been gone? He'd been snatched in the woods, while throwing a stick for Lila. Two large boys had manhandled him to the ground, pressing weak chloroform to his mouth and slamming his head onto a thick root to make sure the job got done.
Bucky still felt the dull ache from the impact, but it was nothing compared to his left shoulder; he suspected that he was being cut open, and there were large, thick cords of metal - was that metal? - being applied in the place of the organic tissue.
"He's waking up," The voice repeated, mainly to itself, Bucky figured. "Richards, some anaesthetic, if you will."
Bucky strained, feeling red hot pain rupture through his entire back and left side. What are they doing to me?
He didn't get to find out, as panic filled his system when a silhouette, fuzzy and blurred, appeared in the light.
"It'll be my pleasure," Reed's voice almost sounded like a different person; malicious, angry, and hateful.
A fist landed between Bucky's eyes at lightning speed.
"And you're sure you haven't seen him?" Steve asked T'Challa, whom he had been speaking to for the entire night, worriedly.
T'Challa shook his head. He had not seen the boy Steve referred to as "Bucky". "I will ask my family, but I doubt anyone will know him."
Steve's eyebrows knitted together in fear. Bucky would have to return soon, right? He was bound to be somewhere.
At the bottom of his mind, Steve felt guilty. He had meant to go and search for Bucky, but Reed had really torn that plan to pieces. Steve cursed under his breath, which no doubt would have made Tony grin, and the conversation drifted back to what T'Challa did and didn't know.
"Okay, so I think we should reach out to Stonebridge-" Steve said, pulling a map he'd nicked from a store in the 'Reed Republic' (god, that sounded ridiculous, he thought) and laying it on the table. Steve then pulled a pen from his pocket and started to mark where he'd seen the wall intersect, forming a near-perfect circular edge.
He didn't pick up on the amazed expression that T'Challa displayed until he didn't answer Steve's question. "What is it?"
"I've never seen a map that covers more than my family's land," T'Challa stroked a finger gently over the paper. "This is very fascinating."
"Wait until you try the internet," Tony called, walking in with a few pot noodles in his hands, trying not to spill the boiling water. T'Challa wrinkled his nose at the smell, disliking it.
"Hey, don't hate the noodle. Trust me, this stuff is like nectar. You can live off of it for weeks on end." Steve didn't even want to know how Tony knew that. He knew the genius was an extreme bachelor, but living off of Pot Noodles? No wonder he was so short.
"This doesn't taste very healthy," T'Challa spoke up, chewing his first bite with an odd expression. Tony tried not to grin too much, sipping the excess soup from his own cup. "It's a wonder you can be alive if this is what you eat."
"There's enough in them to keep you going, just not enough to make you grow," Steve poked fun at Tony, who grinned wickedly and responded with equal fire.
"Are you calling me short, lofty?" Steve grinned at that, tipping his head back and drinking. He hated the pungent taste of the flavouring, so Tony had learned to water it down and decant the excess. Steve certainly appreciated it.
"You bet I am," Steve retorted. "Let me know if you need a stool."
Tony and Steve started to flick at each other, making T'Challa roll his eyes. These people reminded him of his brothers and sisters, and they seemed nice enough. He had long decided that he liked them.
"Alright, so, you say Bucky went missing in the woods around the bridge?" T'Challa spoke up.
Steve nodded, turning back to the map, which still fascinated T'Challa. "I'll circle the area in black, and the red area is where we have searched."
The blonde whipped out a pair of markers from his jean pockets and drew a small black circle and a larger red blob around it.
"Well, I think I have a relatively good idea where your friend is," T'Challa said once Steve had made sure the lines were accurate.
T'Challa's eyebrows wrinkled together, almost like Steve's did. "A few days ago, Bashenga was looking for herbs just outside of the red border. He said he found tracks, and it looked like someone had been taken and dragged off."
Steve's heart skipped a beat. "May I speak to him?"