"Nothing to do with you....."
"You have no idea..."
"Can you understand..."
The words echoed through Bucky's head like the sound of gunfire, so he barely registered the rest of what Sam said in what was meant to pass for a "therapy" session.
At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to smack Sam Wilson in his smug, condascending chops.
With his right hand. So he could feel it. He'd be arrested of course, and probably sent straight to The Raft, but it would be worth it. So very worth it, to wipe that look off Sam's face.
"Actually, Sam.... " said Bucky "that shield had everything to do with me. I was there when Howard Stark made it.
I was behind Steve when he first used it. I picked it up once on a train in the Alps when Steve was down so that the HYDRA Stomper would fire at me instead of him... and it did shoot me. Straight out of the door of that train. I lay in the snow at the bottom of that valley bleeding out for might have been 2 days until the Russians found me so I am a *little* bit invested in what happens to it!""Actually Sam, I do have an idea about slavery. I was held against my will for 70 years. I had no rights, no choice, I didn't even have control of my own body. I was an thing, who existed only to perform the will of other people.
I was not a person. I was operated on, mulilated. By brain was ravaged and damaged to make me more compliant. Or I was just beaten. Every. single. time I resisted. Or every time I started to come back to myself. Or sometimes just because. My body was an object for other people to do with as they pleased. Sometimes they put their hands all over me too - and other body parts. Sometimes they did more. just to remind me I was theirs. Just to let me know I was nothing.
In the end, they sold me. Literally sold me. To the Americans when they couldnt' afford to keep their "asset" anymore.
I am sorry that your ancestors were slaves, Sam. I know how that feels: but that really has nothing to do with me. I was one too, and my ancestors as far back as I know about were dirt-poor. They probably didn't even have shoes, let alone slaves!"
"Also, I am very sorry you can't get a loan. Say, did I ever tell you about my little sister? She died of a sickness in the 1930s when she was still a child. She died because we couldn't afford medicine. Even when I had to drop out of high school and get a job there still wasn't enough for a doctor or the medicine to help her.
It was the Great Depression you see, an half the time we couldn't even afford food. I have some memory problems, but I do remember when HYDRA took me, their not feeding me wasn't a problem. You wanna know why? Its not just the serum.
Its because I was used to to being hungry: I went to bed hungry all the time because I gave most of my food to my sisters. They needed it more than me because they were little and I was not.
Oh, you know I also had a cousin? He died when he was a kid too. I only found out months later that he starved to death.
So, yeah, I AM very sorry about that loan Sam. I really, really am - but not as sorry as I am about my cousin and my sister"
"Actually, yes Sam. I can understand police brutality. Do you remember in Bucharest in 2016? It wasn't that long ago.
I got a kill team sent after me for that bombing in Vienna? About 20 of them broke into my apartment with machine guns. I got away though I am pretty sure I got hit a couple of times because I found a hole in my shoulder and another in my flesh arm the next day.
Yet I kind of forgot because you see, I got captured and taken straight to Berlin where I was extradited without trial. I'm surprised you don't remember as you were there. They didn't allow me to have a lawyer or anything.
They just put me in a glass cage like an animal: but first the cops beat the shit out of me. For all the trouble I caused them and what I did to their friends in Bucharest. Don't worry. They were careful to make sure they kicked in places where the bruises would not show- and I healed in a few hours anyway. Of course, I don't blame you for not knowing that.
So I am really sorry you got stopped by the police Sam. I really am. I know what that's like. It sucks doesn't it? I just told you to show them your ID because once they knew who you were they'd apologize- and they did. Cos' you're real famous Sam and they don't do that kind of thing they did to me to famous people. Or Avengers!!
Bucky said it. All of it. In his head. Not a word was spoken out loud. He would never say it out loud. He was bought up to never complain. Never protest. He didn't remember much of his parents, but he remembered that.
All his life, he had kept silent about his pain. His hunger. His fear, because there was always someone else who needed him to be strong. To be the provider. To be brave. It was, with hindsight, good training for what HYDRA did to him. Then, couldn't complain or refuse or show weakness, because the result was pain. Ironic.
Only in the chair, when his brain felt like it was being torn apart, being stabbed by a thousand knives. Only then did he scream. He couldn't stop himself screaming. Sometimes he cried. Early on. When he was alone. When nobody could see, because tears were weakness and earned punishment. Usually though, he just begged or prayed to die.
Afterwards, he could not cry. Not because he felt nothing for those he killed. Not because he felt no guilt: but because they would think he cried for himself. That his tears were-self pity. Something he did not deserve.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Bucky followed Sam a few minutes later, the words unspoken. Dr Raynor said something about "that look" before he said goodbye and walked into the darkness and cold. She thought he was just upset- and he was. But not for the reason she thought.
Sam's smugness still intact. Still self-absorbed as ever. The man really had the audacity to lecture Bucky on how his "problems" were so bad that he couldn't handle the pressure.
When he life had been so easy, so charmed. When Sam was respected, loved, trusted and had always been. When he had never really known pain or deprivation or hardship. Or to be treated as something less than human. He never would: and for that Bucky was glad. It meant that maybe, just maybe what he fought for all those years ago before HYDRA had meant something. That it achieved something, for someone at least.
Maybe that was why Bucky said nothing.