Metal and Flesh
By the time the military men returned Iris was barely conscious. Her throat was raw from screaming through the leather gag, her wrists and ankles bleeding from straining against the metal bands across them.
She lay unmoving, face down on the metal bed, barely feeling the restraints around her body being released. A pair of arms linked under hers, yanking her up from the table.
Iris groaned as her back felt like it was being torn apart. One of the men said something but as her vision and hearing faded she couldn’t make it out. They continued by trying to lift Iris to her feet but it was a lost battle against her pain and exhaustion. Instead, they opted to drag her out of the operating room between their arms.
Iris tried to focus on anything, anything but the pain, but it was so intensely overwhelming. It felt like her back was being stabbed with a red-hot iron over and over again while simultaneously and painful chill spread up her spine. Every movement was utter torture. Although she hadn’t eaten anything in…she didn’t remember. Even so, her stomach was doing flips, each time evoking her gag reflex. If it weren’t for her exhaustion she probably would have vomited right on the men’s shoes.
Eventually, they stopped moving, allowing the tension on her shoulders to lessen slightly. She managed to bend her head up slightly to see one of the men typing in a code to open a thick metal door. She almost immediately regretted her movement as a fiery pain spread down her spine. Iris gritted her teeth, allowing her head to fall back to its limp position.
Iris heard the door crack open with a similar sound as the one earlier. A second later she felt her body being lifted up, eliciting another blast of pain, before being unceremoniously thrown into the room.
She lay there on the cold concrete in agony, trying to twist away from the pain somehow, letting it slowly lessen until only a dull ache remained. Now that the energy was diverted from her flailing to the rest of her body Iris felt her nausea return. She managed to turn once more, keeping her vomit down. A filthy looking toilet sat in the corner of the room by an equally dirty looking sink and mirror.
Iris excruciatingly dragged herself to the corner, making it just on time before the mostly liquid contents of her stomach were emptied into the toilet. Her knuckles were white and blue as she held them clenched against the floor. The air smelt acidic as she started to dry heave, unable to control her spasms.
Eventually, Iris managed to calm her stomach, allowing her to breathe normally without coughing up her guts. She grabbed the edge of the sink just above her, ignoring the pain in her back and shoulders as she forced herself onto her feet.
Iris stood shakily, leaning her weight against the sink. It took Iris a few seconds to force herself to look at the mirror, afraid of what she might see. When she did force her eyes upward her breath hitched. Her face was a mess of cuts and bruises, most likely from Rumlow. Her neck was blue and red, when she reached to rub it she noticed her wrists were in a similar state.
Without warning her back burst with an eruption of pain once more. If she hadn’t been holding onto the sink she would’ve fallen to the floor. Iris tried reaching for her back, turning to view the damage in the mirror. Her upper back was covered by a large bandage which was already being bled through.
Iris grabbed at the edge of the bandage, groaning with every painful movement until she managed to get a hold of the tape around it. She peeled it away from her skin before turning her back to view the damage.
The only emotion she felt in that moment was shock. She could do nothing but blink and hope that it would disappear.
Iris’s entire upper back was what could only be described as an organized mess of metal and flesh, blood dripping from the edges of cold steel dug deep into her back.
“No. No. No. No. NO.” Iris begged, her throat rough. She began grabbing at the metal, digging her fingers under her skin trying to pry it out while ignoring the pain. “This can’t be real. It can’t be.”
“Don’t do that sweetheart.” Iris whipped around to see a terrifyingly familiar figure in the corner of the room. “That metal in your back is attached to your spine, trying to take it out will only hurt you.” Rumlow stepped towards Iris. "Just wait till' they add the wings."
Iris dug deeper and faster with her fingers into her back, barely noticing her vision blurring through the panic and fear. Suddenly she felt a large hand wrap around her wrists pulling them away from her back and towards the front of her body.
Rumlow forced her to face him directly. Iris’s heart was jumping out of her chest and not in a good way. She felt him lift her bloody fingers up to his mouth before he sucked them dry. Iris tried to pull away, Rumlow used his free hand to wrap around the small of her back, pulling her against his chest.
“Good thing I like my girls a little damaged,” Rumlow whispered in her ear.
She felt his rough, scarred hand slip under her hospital gown. Iris struggled harder, coughing with dry tears.
“Please, stop.” Iris felt this situation was so familiar but now on a completely new and utterly horrifying caliber. “Bucky help.” She said out of desperation.
“Your soldier isn’t here to help you now.” Rumlow chucked as he bit into her neck, ripping the gown from her chest with one swift movement.
He brought her to the dirty mattress in the corner of the room before raping her worse than any man had ever done before.