punched_hitler | For all of us who've seen the light

"No," Steve managed to get out - then gasped as the hand started to loosen, only to pull his head all the way back, which was just as uncomfortable. His hand was still pulling helplessly at the shirt, as he tried to lean forward, but it was hard when he was so disoriented, his eyes seeing nothing but the bright lights of the ceiling and, just out of the corner of one eye, Bucky's - the Soldier's - profile. "But he's in there - and I want him back."

His hand clawed its way farther down the Soldier's back, practically ripping his shirt off in the attempt to find some leverage. His fingers clawed a little against bare skin when he'd pulled the shirt up so much that it was halfway up the soldier's back - and that was when the cell door opened again.

"You know, for an All-American mascot, you sure are into S&M," Tony Stark said, glancing to Sam. "I think he likes wrestling with the inmates, don't you?"

He sighed, starting to circle around the room. "Let the nice, American Soldier go, crazy Ruskie."

"Tony, this isn't funny." Sam glanced over at Sam, then back to Steve and the Soldier. "He says if I zap him, he'll break Steve's neck. I thought this was supposed to incapacitate him."

The Soldier growled, watching Stark circle around him. He could feel Rogers's nails scratching at his back. He hissed into Rogers's ear, "I'll kill myself before I let you have him. I will take away the only person you ever loved and were loved by in return. How would you like that, Rogers?" He kept his eyes on Stark, smirking at the man as he approached.

Without waiting for a response from Rogers, the Soldier lifted his head and addressed Stark. "How do you like my arm? Has it tried to kill you yet?"

Edited 2014-05-27 15:29 (UTC)

"I don' t know. It looks pretty funny from here," Tony quipped - but his eyes belied the fact that he was really being very serious. He didn't intend to let Captain America die, let alone lose to a one-armed brainwashing accident. "It is supposed to incapacitate him," he added. "JARVIS, how about recalibrating?" That would dial up the charge without - ideally - killing the human wearing the collar.

"That will take a moment, sir."

"Well then, you'd better get started."

Steve, meanwhile, had gone stiff and still at the Soldier's words. He rarely hated anyone, truly hated them, but he hated this Winter Soldier with a passion. He had taken Bucky away, replaced him, and would not give him back. His fingers curled tightly against the skin of the Soldier's back, as his entire body practically vibrated with rage. He couldn't get out of this hold, but he wouldn't give in. He would keep the Soldier from hurting himself or Bucky by sheer will alone, if he had to. At least, that was what he believed. In the meantime, he tried to get his other arm free, twisting it, pulling it, figured a dislocated shoulder or broken arm sure beat being pinned like he was. He was seriously considering throwing them both backwards - knocking Bucky out on the hard wall - when he asked about the arm.

"Oh, it's tried," Stark agreed. "Fortunately, I have an aversion to dying."

"Unless you intend to kill me, this collar won't be able to stop me." It would make him hesitate. He feared being shocked, but he had his mission in his hands. All he had to do was snap the neck of the man in front of him, and it didn't matter what happened after that. He tightened his grip on Rogers, trying to get as much leverage with his arm as he could. He kept the heel of his palm on Rogers's chin, pressing his fingers upwards to block his nostrils. "Stop fighting me," he hissed, "Or I'll suffocate you."

He looked up at Stark. "It's quite the thing, isn't it? Vanko designed it. You find the power source?" It was an arc reactor even smaller than the one Stark himself had made, and would be able to run the arm for a thousand more years, if the Soldier had continued to be frozen and woken up every few years.

Edited 2014-05-27 16:45 (UTC)

"Oh, I'd love to kill you. But Cap here might not appreciate that," Tony said, frowning slightly. He could have JARVIS dial up the collar enough to incapacitate the man - for now - but it wasn't a permanent solution. Not unless Rogers wanted a best friend with a brain smoking out his ears. "Vanko? God, I can't get rid of the guy, can I?" Tony said, but it was clear - though he was trying to hide it - that he'd been impressed with the arm. He wasn't surprised it was Vanko's work, though the idea was more than a little creepy.

Steve, meanwhile, felt like he was already suffocating. His head was being pulled at an awkward angle, and hard - it hurt, and it was making it hard to really fill his lungs, especially with his mouth clamped shut. He didn't want to fight Bucky - just this Soldier - but he couldn't do that if he was dead and he knew it. And he couldn't let them kill the Soldier, or Bucky would go with him.

"Recalibration complete, sir," JARVIS chimed in the background. "Shall I engage the collar?"

Steve tensed at the words - and he didn't want to give them the chance to find out. He tried to throw himself backwards, to use his substantial weight to knock the Soldier against the wall behind them. He wasn't sure it was going to work, though - it was getting hard to think. Even if the Soldier wasn't actually suffocating him - yet - he felt like he was going to black out.

The Soldier grunted as Rogers threw them both back. He slammed his head into the wall but didn't let go. He tightened his grip on Rogers, glaring at Stark. He pulled his mission's chin to the side and stopped suffocating him, daring Stark to shock him. "You do that, Stark, and he's dead."

Sam said, "If you're going to kill him, kill him. You've been threatening but haven't done it yet." He managed a small smile for Steve, hoping he would stay calm.

The Soldier glared at both Wilson and Stark, the burning just behind his lungs was getting worse, the broken glass around his heart tightening.

Edited 2014-05-27 17:47 (UTC)

Honestly, having his head twisted to the side was better than suffocating. You'd think suffocating would be familiar, given the number of asthma attacks he'd had as a child, but they'd always terrified him - and so did not being able to breathe now. Steve gasped quietly for air, trying to stay still, mostly because while he didn't believe Bucky - the Soldier - would snap his neck, one wrong move could change that. Sam was right. He'd been threatening but he couldn't do it.

"Bucky," he ground out, his voice raw, from between clenched teeth. But it was all he could get out, before Stark (or JARVIS) activated the collar - the jolt was much worse than before, but not enough to kill. Depending on the amount of adrenaline coursing through him, the Soldier might not even be knocked out, but it should make his limbs stop responding long enough to let Steve go - or that was the idea, at least.

The Soldier jerked, grip tightening on Rogers's chin, probably enough to make a vertebrae pop but not enough to cause any actual damage. Steve would probably be a bit dizzy, but that would be it. His grip loosened and he rocked back, body shuddering and jolting. He screamed in pain - this was much more like the pain of a wipe than the shock he got before. He writhed, fingers clawing at the collar weakly, initiating another automatic shock.

The second one was enough to paralyze his limbs temporarily and he went limp, breath light and pained. He whimpered and looked up at the three men in front of him.

He was suddenly back in the chair, his handler disappointed and angry stuck in his mind. "Please... Please, don't..." He didn't know he was mumbling in Russian, trapped in memory that had mostly been taken away by the wipes. It was images and sensations and the lingering afteraffects of the electrocution.

Steve gasped as his head was jerked in the Soldier's grasp, though he didn't feel pain so much as momentary discomfort and disorientation. It took him a second to realize what was going on, and by that time, Bucky's voice was screaming in his ear just before the legs and arm holding him went stiff - then limp - and Bucky slid away onto the bed, making Steve topple forward as he tried to shift his weight at the last second to avoid crushing his best friend, who now lay on the bed, looking utterly dazed.

By the time Steve had started struggling to his feet, Bucky was mumbling in Russian, and he looked... almost terrified. "Was that really necessary?"

Stark snorted. "You're welcome for saving your life. Geez." Then he took a closer look at the heap on the bed. "You know... that might be the key. Electrocution. It's the only thing that subdues him, and there's got to be a reason for that."

Steve frowned. He didn't like that idea. And despite the fact that he knew it wasn't a good idea, either, he stepped forward - stiffly, cautiously - to touch Bucky's shoulder. "Hey, buddy..."

The Soldier jolted when he was touched and stared upwards, his handler's face overlaid on the face in front of him. He shuddered and whimpered, "Please... I'm sorry, Please..." He blinked away tears, lying stiff and frozen under the touch. "Please don't take... Don't take..." He should be speaking English, knows his master doesn't like Russian, but he doesn't remember the language, can't form his mouth around anything except Russian.

Sam said, eyeing the man on the bed mumbling in quiet, desperate Russian, "According to his file, they used electric shocks to wipe his memory. Probably tortured Bucky with it, too."

The Soldier looked around, the guards talking amongst themselves. Then he returned his attention to his master, his handler. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please don't hurt me... I won't fail again."

If Steve had thought Bucky couldn't break his heart any more... he'd been wrong. Just seeing him like that, shuddering at the simple touch and babbling (sounding terrified) in Russian was enough to make him pull his hand back, stepping away from the bed. "Oh - " he said, starting to feel his own mind shut down as the adrenaline from that scuffle started to fade. God, he was trying so hard, but he was just coming up against a brick wall time and time again. He wasn't sure how to help Bucky, but he was pretty sure that whatever he was doing... it wasn't helping.

Stark was looking at the figure on the bed, too, but with a look in his eyes that said he was already running through equations and calculations and ideas. "I'll be back later," he said absently, though he did come back to himself long enough to look at Steve and Sam. "If you two think you can stay out of trouble for a while."

As his handler pulled away, the Soldier flinched, bracing for a hit. "Please..." He stayed laying flat on the bed, bound by conditioning to lay still, to not lash out at his handler or his guards. He was a tool. Tools didn't lash out. They were used, and they did without question, without thought.

"Steve... I think we should give him some space." Sam felt sick to his stomach. The shock had jolted something else out of the Soldier - something childlike and terrified. Sam had nieces and nephews, recognized the brainless terror of a nightmare. The Soldier's eyes locked on him, but didn't meet his gaze. It was the gaze of a soldier that had been tortured by the enemy and a child and Sam was torn between knowing that this man could kill him in an instant and wanting to help him.

"Yeah," Steve breathed, unable to take his eyes off of Bucky's form as he backed away from the bed, almost like he was afraid of a rabid animal that might bite him. He had never seen that kind of look on Bucky's face before, and he wished he never had. He also wished he had whoever had done this to him in this room - so he could kill them. Slowly.

And that wasn't a thought Steve Rogers often had.

He glanced over to Sam, not knowing what to do. "I can't - should we just leave him alone?" Would that make things better, or worse? Did Sam even know?

"I don't know. But he's scared of you, or whoever he thinks you are." Sam had no idea if leaving was the right thing to do or not. The Soldier was obviously scared out of his mind, but wasn't violent.

All he could do was trust his instincts and his training, and while one told him to get out of the room, the other told him to stay, to try and help.

"I wish I had an answer, Steve. I'm just a VA counselor, I'm not an actual psychologist." He reached forward and touched Steve's arm, hoping to be able to comfort him at least some small bit. "He needs somebody better than me to help him."

Steve wasn't sure which was better - or which was worse. Violent, he knew how to handle. But cowering... No one had ever actually been afraid of him. Not when he was, you know, five feet tall, and not even really when he was Captain America. Okay, the idea had been to strike fear into the hearts of evildoers or whatever you wanted to call it, but that was different. That wasn't trying to intimidate the people he cared about.

"I - " He looked imploringly at Sam. Sam had more experience than he did, even if he was "just" a VA counselor. Steve had no idea how to handle this situation, and he was frustrated and distressed to no end. "Should we... get somebody?" He could talk to Stark, they could bring in someone, couldn't they? "Do you - I've got to believe he can be helped, Sam. I can't give up on him."

"Yeah, I think we need to. I know a couple of people that specialize in PTSD counseling for vets. At the very least I can ask some advice." Sam managed a smile for Steve, knowing he needed reassurance. "I'll talk to Stark and make some phone calls. You stay here with him but maybe don't get too close."

Sam stepped back, not sure how he would be able to phase Bucky's condition without giving away that he had been tortured until he lost his own identity and used as an assassin for 70 years.

The Soldier watched his handler and the guard talk, not understanding. He had fallen silent but was unable to keep his head down like he was supposed to.

"If you could..." Steve looked both hopeful and grateful; he didn't have connections like Sam did, and he didn't know much about how to handle PTSD. In the 40s, they'd just called it "shellshock" and assumed you'd get over it. But that wasn't the case with Bucky, because there was so much more involved that Steve didn't even know where to start.

Besides, he was confident that Sam could find some way to get Bucky help, even if they had to explain the situation to someone. As long as it was someone they could trust... he would be okay with that.

Steve glanced back at Bucky, letting out a breath. Maybe it was better it he just... stayed over here. He would walk Sam as far as the door of the cell, then he took a seat against the glass wall, cross-legged, on the floor. Maybe then he would seem nonthreatening, safe.

Sam nodded. "Yeah." He paused at the door and touched Steve's shoulder. "We'll get him through this, okay?" Then he hesitated and pressed the trigger switch for Bucky's collar into Steve's hand. "I know you won't use it, but I would feel better if you had it. Just in case." He kissed Steve on the lips then retreated out of the cell. He would get advice first, and then deal with Tony.

The Soldier watched the guard leave the room, and his handler sit against the mirror to his left. It was odd, that his master would leave himself alone and vulnerable. The Soldier knew better than to attack, but it was strange. He sat up after a few minutes, unsure, and rested his hand on the bed next to him. He was hard-pressed to keep his eyes off of his own reflection - he hadn't seen himself in years without the protection of his armor and goggles, and the dampening of the muzzle.

He touched the collar gingerly. This was a new addition. Did they want to use it for punishment in the field? Was it a remote wipe? He swallowed hard against the soft inside of the collar and glanced at his handler then back down again, hair hiding his face so he didn't have to look at his reflection. He sat, waiting for a mission statement, for a face and name to be presented to him.

"Okay," Steve said quietly - he wanted to believe Sam, and badly, but he was starting to feel pretty lost. His hand barely closed around the trigger switch, and he glanced at it before looking up at Sam.

No, he wouldn't use it. But if it made Sam feel better... well, Steve could hold onto it, sure. What harm could that do? He frowned, but nodded slightly, leaning close as Sam kissed him - too briefly - before the other man slipped out of the cell. Finally, Steve turned and took up watch from the floor, eyes on the Soldier - on Bucky - as he started to move. But he didn't expect Bucky to do anything violent, and for once, he was right.

A few long, long moments passed - they looked at either other, but neither spoke. Finally, Steve couldn't stand it anymore. "Hey. Are you... uh, back to English yet, buddy? My Russian's pretty... nonexistent." He tried to laugh, but it came out pretty weak.

Edited 2014-05-29 23:55 (UTC)

The Soldier glanced up briefly when his handler spoke then quickly ducked his head. He was speaking English and the Soldier knew he should respond, but his brain couldn't process it. He said, "I don't understand... I'm sorry, I don't..." He knew, logically, that he should be able to speak and understand English, but it was like the language was gone.

He closed his mouth and his eyes, bracing for his handler to move, to punish him for not obeying whatever he had said.

Edited 2014-05-30 00:17 (UTC)

Steve obviously wasn't going to punish Bucky for replying in Russian - but he didn't know what his friend was saying or how to help. All he knew was that the tone of Bucky's voice sounded scared, like he wanted to flinch, but also like he didn't dare. That made Steve unhappy, though of course he couldn't know that Bucky might interpret the frown on his face for something other than concern.

He shook his head, saying, "I'm sorry. I can't understand you - hell, maybe you can't understand me." Which was crazy - this was Bucky, American-born and bred, but... part of him wasn't Bucky, too. Steve tentatively scooted a little closer - just a foot or two - but stayed sitting on the floor. "It's... okay." Even though it wasn't. "I can wait."

The Soldier went stiff when his handler moved closer to him, bracing himself. But he didn't come close enough to get in physical range, just stayed against the wall, sitting down. But the tone of his voice had changed, going from demanding-angry to concerned-friendly-questioning. He swallowed hard, confused. He nodded after a few moments, hoping it was the right response.

JARVIS interrupted, "Captain Rogers? Would you like me to provide a translation?"

The Soldier jumped, unable to hide his surprise. He looked around for the source of the new voice, but realized after a few moments it was likely just an intercom system. He pulled his arm in towards his belly anyways, unsure if it was an alarm of some kind and he would either be needed to stop a threat against his handler or if soon guards would be piling into the room to subdue him. He didn't need to, he would sit still as they wanted, but he knew it didn't matter if he knew he was going to stay still or not. He swallowed hard and said, "I can't... I'm sorry, I don't know..." He choked himself off forcibly, forcing himself silent by biting his tongue.

Steve stopped the instant Bucky stiffened - his goal wasn't to frighten his friend, but to make him feel more at ease (which was feeling pretty impossible right now). And Bucky wasn't the only one that jumped a little when JARVIS interrupted, as it was - Steve blinked, looking around, although of course there wasn't actually a physical presence that he could address. So instead, he just tried to project his voice upward, as calmly as possible. "Can you?" He hadn't thought of that. "I... don't understand Russian at all, and I don't think he's processing English."

And clearly that wasn't good, not by the way Bucky's face was pale, the way he was practically vibrating with fear and visibly trying to keep himself silent. "It's okay to talk," Steve said gently, wishing JARVIS might be able to translate in a comforting tone, though he wasn't sure that was really possible for an AI - let alone one created by Tony Stark. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just here to keep you company."

JARVIS said, in perfect, smooth Russian that made the Soldier look around in alarm, "My name is JARVIS. I will translate. Do you understand?"

The Soldier nodded after a moment, warily. He glanced at his handler again then returned his attention to his lap. He listened to the voice and looked up at his handler. "Do you have a mission for me?" He licked his lips nervously, focusing his gaze somewhere over the man's shoulder, careful not to look him in the eyes, not to change his body posture from anything except quiet, calm submission.

Edited 2014-06-02 01:16 (UTC)

JARVIS and Bucky had a brief exchange of words, which of course Steve couldn't understand - but Bucky didn't exactly look any calmer. Steve watched him, carefully, feeling his own stomach churning, feeling uncomfortable despite the fact that he'd just had a good meal and a full night's sleep (well, day's sleep).

"What did he say?" Steve asked anxiously, not really liking that he didn't have a person or a face to talk to, to question.

Thankfully, JARVIS seemed to have better manners than Stark. "He asked if you have a mission for him. What shall I tell him, Captain?"

A mission? Steve frowned. Wasn't he the mission? Wasn't that the whole point of this? Or did... "Ask him who I am," he said slowly, frowning again.

For all of us who've seen the light

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sorry work has been eating meeeee

no worries!

<33

Re: <33

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oh man I swear I am alive, I think XD

I've been so busy the past few days I don't think I've been able to tag back either!!

Ah, life. Gets in the way of RP XD

Lol no kidding. If you ever want to do another RP with me, I do have several ideas *wiggles eyebrows

OMG I would love to hear them~ :3 You can feel free to message me or just toss them in a comment XD

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