Fic: Adjustments (2/5)
Jun. 29th, 2012 02:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
leashy_bebesTitle: Adjustments (2/5)
Fandom: Avengers/Captain America movie
Pairing: Very vague hints at Bucky/Steve so far
Rating: PG
Summary: There are many kinds of fear in wartime, and many kinds of imprisonment too.
Content Notes: War, torture references, minor character death, general angst.
Notes: This is the second of 5 fills for prompts on![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
hc_bingo. The prompt this time was imprisonment. Thanks to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
eldee for the beta.
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine, just playing.
Word Count: ~1000
The 107th walk into an ambush. An explosion heralds the beginning of the most confusing fifteen minutes of Bucky's life. He sees a lot of people die right there, in the explosion. Good men, men he's fought with and is maybe gonna die with, here in the middle of nowhere in Italy.
When the smoke clears, Bucky isn't as far away as he thinks from the main site of the action, and he gets caught along with everyone else. He does a quick headcount, and there's maybe a half dozen people he can't account for. Everyone else is dead or rounded up into the same little knot Bucky is being herded towards.
Bucky is cursing his luck and imagining being stuck in a POW camp for the rest of the war, when he realises – this isn't normal. They're not swastikas on their captors' badges, they're something else. Something new.
And their weapons...
One of the Privates tries to make a break for it only to be shot down in a flash of white-blue light. There's a brief impression of bones and then the Private is just gone. Not dead, not bleeding on the floor, but gone.
Jackie is still there, still standing, looks uninjured but terrified. Bucky edges through the spaces until they're standing shoulder to shoulder. There's no time for conversation or comfort.
There's a forced march, chained together at ankles and wrists, a long chain of men picking their way through the mud. Bucky has never felt more defeated. After that they're loaded into trucks, guarded heavily the whole time.
It's dark when they arrive wherever they're going, and Bucky gets just a brief impression of high walls bristling with armaments before he's shoved along with the others. They're taken to a large room at first, still chained together. At the end of the chain, one of the Privates is swaying on his feet, injured worse than he realises. He won't see dawn.
Bucky exchanges a look with Jackie. There are so few of them left, huddled in this dirty room. God. Bucky offers up a prayer, but apparently it's ignored because two of their guards step forward and start to separate Jackie from the chain. He tries to square his shoulders but he looks so young, so afraid. Bucky doesn't think twice.
"Take me instead," he says.
The guards talk among themselves for a moment before one of them steps forward to unlock Bucky from the main length of chain. Bucky gives Jackie a cocky, 'don't worry about a thing' kind of grin in the second before the guard shoots Jackie Nelson from Michigan right between the eyes.
"We take you instead," they tell him, and Bucky's knees feel like water. It's the hardest thing he's ever done to walk out of that room rather than allow himself to be dragged. His feet are chained together so his steps are hobbled, but still. He walks.
*
The first couple of days are about what he expected. A little rough treatment until they realise they're not getting anything more out of him than his name, rank and regiment. (Like he has anything else to give, that's what makes it so ridiculous. He's just a soldier.) On the third day someone new enters the room and there's a muttered conversation. Bucky has picked up enough German to understand that they're impressed by him (not very reassuring). They also mention a doctor, and then they inject Bucky with something.
The next time he wakes up he's alone, apart from a short, stout man with fleshy jowls and a smart little suit. Bucky likes this even less than he liked being woken by the butt of a pistol and opening his eyes to find three rifles in his face. This guy has an air of bureaucratic menace.
"Hello," he says, in precise but accented English. "My name is Dr. Zola."
Bucky realises that instant that he's unbound, and a second later that it doesn't matter because he can't move. At all. He can blink and breathe, and he can roll his eyes enough to see he's still in the same room as before but that's it.
Be brave, kid, he tells himself, trying to make it sound like his dad's rough rumble. It comes out more like Steve, all firm and principled. That's okay too.
*
The things Zola does scare Bucky worse than anything else. Worse than gas, worse than a sniper in the dark. He's afraid. He's so afraid, and he hates himself for it. There are drugs, electricity, bright pulsing blasts of light that hurt Bucky's eyes. Mostly he's aware of pain, and a horrible loss of control.
He tries at first to tell Zola that he knows nothing, is only a soldier. Pretty soon he realises there's no point to that. Zola doesn't want information. They tried to take Jackie for the same reason they allowed Bucky to trade with him: they are relatively unharmed. Zola is torturing him, yes, but not for intelligence.
No, Bucky realises. He's testing. Testing his techniques? Doesn't matter. All Bucky has to do, all he can do, is survive. Ride it out as long as possible. Because Zola looks scared. Whatever he's trying isn't working. So when he's worn Bucky down he'll take another man, and another, and another.
Bucky grits his teeth and vows to last another night. Zola leaves at night. It's respite. Peace.
*
He does last til nightfall. He drifts between sleep and unconsciousness until someone starts to shake him awake. Not as rough as usual, but way too soon. Bucky isn't ready. He comes awake suddenly at the sound of the man's voice, pretty sure he's dreaming.
The voice sounds like Steve's, the hands feel like Steve's, but Steve would never have been able to break those cuffs like they were paper and paste, would never have been able to haul Bucky upright like a sack of flour. Those hands cup his face, tilting him, seeking eye contact, and no, that is definitely Steve, that same sweet-natured face and the same earnest eyes.
Go, Bucky wants to say. Go, go, what are you doing here, it's dangerous.
His mouth won't cooperate though, and he sort of gapes at Steve instead. If this is another hallucination from whatever Zola has been pumping into his system, then it's the best one yet.
Part one is here, or read both parts here @ ao3
Fandom: Avengers/Captain America movie
Pairing: Very vague hints at Bucky/Steve so far
Rating: PG
Summary: There are many kinds of fear in wartime, and many kinds of imprisonment too.
Content Notes: War, torture references, minor character death, general angst.
Notes: This is the second of 5 fills for prompts on
hc_bingo. The prompt this time was imprisonment. Thanks to eldee for the beta. Disclaimer: Characters are not mine, just playing.
Word Count: ~1000
The 107th walk into an ambush. An explosion heralds the beginning of the most confusing fifteen minutes of Bucky's life. He sees a lot of people die right there, in the explosion. Good men, men he's fought with and is maybe gonna die with, here in the middle of nowhere in Italy.
When the smoke clears, Bucky isn't as far away as he thinks from the main site of the action, and he gets caught along with everyone else. He does a quick headcount, and there's maybe a half dozen people he can't account for. Everyone else is dead or rounded up into the same little knot Bucky is being herded towards.
Bucky is cursing his luck and imagining being stuck in a POW camp for the rest of the war, when he realises – this isn't normal. They're not swastikas on their captors' badges, they're something else. Something new.
And their weapons...
One of the Privates tries to make a break for it only to be shot down in a flash of white-blue light. There's a brief impression of bones and then the Private is just gone. Not dead, not bleeding on the floor, but gone.
Jackie is still there, still standing, looks uninjured but terrified. Bucky edges through the spaces until they're standing shoulder to shoulder. There's no time for conversation or comfort.
There's a forced march, chained together at ankles and wrists, a long chain of men picking their way through the mud. Bucky has never felt more defeated. After that they're loaded into trucks, guarded heavily the whole time.
It's dark when they arrive wherever they're going, and Bucky gets just a brief impression of high walls bristling with armaments before he's shoved along with the others. They're taken to a large room at first, still chained together. At the end of the chain, one of the Privates is swaying on his feet, injured worse than he realises. He won't see dawn.
Bucky exchanges a look with Jackie. There are so few of them left, huddled in this dirty room. God. Bucky offers up a prayer, but apparently it's ignored because two of their guards step forward and start to separate Jackie from the chain. He tries to square his shoulders but he looks so young, so afraid. Bucky doesn't think twice.
"Take me instead," he says.
The guards talk among themselves for a moment before one of them steps forward to unlock Bucky from the main length of chain. Bucky gives Jackie a cocky, 'don't worry about a thing' kind of grin in the second before the guard shoots Jackie Nelson from Michigan right between the eyes.
"We take you instead," they tell him, and Bucky's knees feel like water. It's the hardest thing he's ever done to walk out of that room rather than allow himself to be dragged. His feet are chained together so his steps are hobbled, but still. He walks.
*
The first couple of days are about what he expected. A little rough treatment until they realise they're not getting anything more out of him than his name, rank and regiment. (Like he has anything else to give, that's what makes it so ridiculous. He's just a soldier.) On the third day someone new enters the room and there's a muttered conversation. Bucky has picked up enough German to understand that they're impressed by him (not very reassuring). They also mention a doctor, and then they inject Bucky with something.
The next time he wakes up he's alone, apart from a short, stout man with fleshy jowls and a smart little suit. Bucky likes this even less than he liked being woken by the butt of a pistol and opening his eyes to find three rifles in his face. This guy has an air of bureaucratic menace.
"Hello," he says, in precise but accented English. "My name is Dr. Zola."
Bucky realises that instant that he's unbound, and a second later that it doesn't matter because he can't move. At all. He can blink and breathe, and he can roll his eyes enough to see he's still in the same room as before but that's it.
Be brave, kid, he tells himself, trying to make it sound like his dad's rough rumble. It comes out more like Steve, all firm and principled. That's okay too.
*
The things Zola does scare Bucky worse than anything else. Worse than gas, worse than a sniper in the dark. He's afraid. He's so afraid, and he hates himself for it. There are drugs, electricity, bright pulsing blasts of light that hurt Bucky's eyes. Mostly he's aware of pain, and a horrible loss of control.
He tries at first to tell Zola that he knows nothing, is only a soldier. Pretty soon he realises there's no point to that. Zola doesn't want information. They tried to take Jackie for the same reason they allowed Bucky to trade with him: they are relatively unharmed. Zola is torturing him, yes, but not for intelligence.
No, Bucky realises. He's testing. Testing his techniques? Doesn't matter. All Bucky has to do, all he can do, is survive. Ride it out as long as possible. Because Zola looks scared. Whatever he's trying isn't working. So when he's worn Bucky down he'll take another man, and another, and another.
Bucky grits his teeth and vows to last another night. Zola leaves at night. It's respite. Peace.
*
He does last til nightfall. He drifts between sleep and unconsciousness until someone starts to shake him awake. Not as rough as usual, but way too soon. Bucky isn't ready. He comes awake suddenly at the sound of the man's voice, pretty sure he's dreaming.
The voice sounds like Steve's, the hands feel like Steve's, but Steve would never have been able to break those cuffs like they were paper and paste, would never have been able to haul Bucky upright like a sack of flour. Those hands cup his face, tilting him, seeking eye contact, and no, that is definitely Steve, that same sweet-natured face and the same earnest eyes.
Go, Bucky wants to say. Go, go, what are you doing here, it's dangerous.
His mouth won't cooperate though, and he sort of gapes at Steve instead. If this is another hallucination from whatever Zola has been pumping into his system, then it's the best one yet.
Part one is here, or read both parts here @ ao3