"Steve’s dog tags- They’re gone."
Present Day: 2023
Bucky wakes with tears in his eyes, and he doesn’t know where he is. He blinks, and he feels weird, fuzzy, and he has a pounding headache, death wakes in his mouth, and he’s naked.
He’s in some sort of underground rave, that’s right, and he's in one of the rooms, reclined back on a mattress, and there’s rustling beside him, in the dark room, which smells like weed, and sex, and blood. Bucky turns, and there's a woman, nestled beside him.
She blinks at him, “You were calling out in your sleep-”, she smirks, naked and completely sober, and Bucky frowns at her, blinking.
He wants to speak, but the words get caught in his throat, and he can’t move. He doesn’t know where he is, doesn’t know what happened after he left Raynors. Yet-
He’d gone looking for drugs and a party, right?
He’d gone to one, some bar which had an underground rave, he was sure, wasn’t legal in any sense of the word, yet he’d gone, had laughed, and joked, and had laid on 40s Bucky charm and swagger, with so much effort, women had flocked to him right and left-and then-
He frowns, brows pinching, as he realizes with a jolt his metal arm is on display, and when his hands reach to run down his ragged face, he pretends they aren’t trembling.
The woman grins, it’s a demeaning smile, which looks off on her pretty face, as she rubs a thumb against his shoulder, it’s soothing, even though he wants to move and cover himself, even though he wants to scream at her to get off, and get away.
“You fuck like a pro by the way.” She grins, and Bucky’s eyes widen, because those are bruises on her throat, “What the fuck did I do?” He gasps, his breath is hitching and there’s an odd sense of panic, because he doesn’t remember-he doesn’t-
The winter soldier comes in the space of his absence, when he doesn’t fucking remember, and he’s sitting up, taking panicked breaths, feeling like he’s going to hurl, his stomach cramping, as he claws at his chest, at the panic and his heart that feels as though it’s stopped beating.
“Yo calm the fuck down, I’m sorry if I like took advantage of you or something-” She laughs, teasing, “My bad, dude, you seemed pretty into it.”
Bucky feels tears burn in his gaze, as he stumbles to his knees, and throws up in the corner of this dark room, there’s neon decorating the walls, and he throws up again.
He wipes his mouth, and stands unsteady, and he can’t even-
He rests his head against the wall, it’s cool, and his body is working on rejecting and healing whatever the hell he took.
He exhales shaky, and clenches his fist so hard, there’s a tense silence, where he claws at his arms, and he turns, “What-did I-are you okay?”
Because Raynor was right. He did hurt people. Jesus.
He’s glancing at the hand shaped print on her neck, and he feels so sick at the sight, of that faint outline of a bruise, and he rubs the skin of his flesh hand hard enough to draw blood, and her eyes dart to his arms, “I’m fine man, to be fair you only did this-” She gestures to her throat, “When I started to go for another round and you just sort’ve tensed up, and I didn’t realize-”
The woman shrugs, and she’s starting to look like she feels a little bad for him, as she sits up, “Uh-I’m not sure man, you were like a beast, you took whatever and anything, anyone offered you. Shit you were probably high as fuck, did you even remember wanting to sleep with me? Fuck.”
She looks unsure now, and her tongue darts out to wet her lips, and she glares at him, and Bucky’s about to apologise, grief in his throat, until she snaps, slightly panicked, “If you tell anyone-or-or tell the cops-I’ll say you’re a liar and a rapist!’
Bucky blinks, and there’s a ringing in his ears, because what?
The woman stands, perfectly sober and sure, as she paces, and Bucky sits down on the mattress, the beast in his chest claws at his heart, and he feels so incredibly lost, alone.
He swallows thickly, “Was I-” He stammers, and he clears his throat, because he’s not the Asset, he doesn’t have to be afraid to challenge her.
“Was I in my right mind when I agreed to sleep with you?” He asks quietly, because why would he lash out if he wasn’t trying to defend himself? Why would he-he’s not-
The women snorts, and she whirls to face him, angry, “Fuck! I don’t know! You were pretty out of it! But you begged me! I’m not some creep or whatever, you wanted it!”
Bucky flinches, and he nods, a sort of despair in his gut, because he knows that, he probably did want it, he can’t blame her if he doesn’t remember, and she scowls, “Listen man, just-just call this a bad night, and fuck off, okay?”
Bucky nods, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry-” And she makes some sort of sound, that sounds almost angry, “Just get the fuck out! Jesus!” She sounds guilty, and Bucky wants to tell her she shouldn’t. He’s not a good person, and doesn't deserve it. It’s the least of what he deserves.
But he grabs some clothes of his, intent on running away from here, as he finds his pants in a corner, and yanks his jeans on, and his shirt- always losing his damn shoes, as he looks around for those, and realizes he's lost them, again!
As he gets ready to storm out, he hesitates and feels sick as he realizes there’s a sticky fluid on his thighs, and he grits his teeth.
Pull yourself together, Barnes, a voice which sounds eerily like him in the 40’s snaps, kiss her, and thank her for the night.
But the thought of kissing the woman makes him feel sick, and he just leaves as she continues to pace, and he feels hungry and weak in a way he hadn’t felt in 70 years, and how many drugs did he take that it had hit this hard?
Bucky wants to cry, but he doesn’t know why, and as he stepsides sleeping people, unconscious people that litter the floor of the filthy rave, he walks up to the exit, which leads to the alleyway on the other side of the bar.
Bucky’s lost his money and his shoes again, great.
It’s probably late afternoon, and it’s raining thickly, and the gray eases his mind, and as he tilts his head up to face the thundering clouds, his hands reach to clasp Steve’s dog tags, and he realizes, with a jolt of horror, as his metal fingers touch his hollow chest-
They’re gone.