As Bitter as Citrus
1945
Bucky woke up with a hiss of pain as he struggled to sit up. When his vision cleared, he noticed that he was alone in a somewhat sterile looking room. The beeps of the machine he was hooked up to were far too loud for his liking. He let out a defeated sigh as he took in his surroundings the best he could as he did a mental check-list of himself, his blood ran cold as he noticed his left arm. It was half completed and started to leave a searing, burning sensation where it connected to his flesh. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, willing the panic down as he counted in his head. When his last semi-conscious moments came back to him, it made his panic spike immediately, making him nauseous and his head spin. He came to the conclusion that if he was here, that if he truly saw (Y/N), he was here as well or killed while he was taken. The monitor he was hooked up to started to beep loudly before three doctors rushed in. “Where.. Where's (Y/N)?” He asked one of them, his voice coming out hoarse, but was ignored as they rushed around grabbing several different kinds of syringes. “Ah, he finally awakens!” the doctor called out as he entered the room. Bucky lifted his head up off the table just enough so he could see him. He looked familiar but couldn’t place his face. “Where is (Y/N)?” He said a bit more forcefully before the man turned to him with a sly smirk. “Well, what would be the use in telling you?” he said as he turned to Bucky fully, looking him over. “He’s being held on another level. Nothing to concern yourself with.. He’s alive so stop your fretting.” He said in a tone that didn't settle well with him and Bucky gave him a cold glare. “What did you do to him?” Bucky said as he gritted his teeth as the nurse, he assumed, injected him with something. “Nothing you should concern yourself with, Sergeant. Your experimenting will begin as soon as you wake up again. I refuse to lose all this progress with you by continuing my project too soon. You are in a way, the perfect specimen!” the man said with a sick sense of excitement. “You hurt him, I promise you, I will kill you.” he said with slightly slurred speech as he teetered on the edge of consciousness. The doctor simply laughed at him before he returned to his clipboard, instructing the nurses and mechanic where to start next. “That’s funny, Sergeant. Your dear “Kapitän” said the same thing. Before he passed out that is.” The last thing Bucky saw before blacking out was the man scribbling on the papers attached to the clipboard.
The next time he came to, he was still trapped on the table; however, he immediately noticed that his left arm was back but it was made completely out of metal and had a red star engraved on the shoulder. He tried to ignore the stinging pain, almost as if his nerve endings were being singed with a red hot knife. He sucked in a sharp breath as he tried to calm himself and keep his pain in check. ‘Pain is temporary. It’s gonna pass.’ is what he repeated in his head over and over again as he slowly got used to the burning pain. As he started to flex his fingers slightly, a different doctor came in. He was followed by two guards and a few others he didn’t recall. The doctor slowly began drawing blood samples and cutting off small pieces of his skin on his right arm for, what he would’ve guessed, cell samples. He held in his groans of pain as they continued to poke and prod at him. When they found it suitable, the doctor started to unstrap him from the table. “So, Soldier. We need you to test your mobility for us to determine how your prosthetic is functioning. So if you’ll please.” he gestured for him to sit up as he scribbled on his clipboard. Bucky sneered at him before quickly sitting up and grabbing him by his throat, strangling him for a moment before breaking his neck with his left hand. He quickly got off the table as the nurses started yelling in what he thought was german. The guards jumped into action and attempted to take him out but Bucky was running on anger and adrenaline. He dodged their heavy batons, sending a few quick kicks and hard punches at them, trying to ignore the crunch of their bones with each blow he landed. He heard heavy boots rush towards him and he ran out into the hall, picking a random direction, not quite knowing where he was going since this was the first he was seeing of the layout. He went where his feet carried him but he found himself lost in a maze of halls and locked rooms. He swore under his breath before he decided to break open one of the rooms. He held his body against the door after he rushed into it, listening as the Hydra agents passed by the room he hid in. He allowed himself a breath of relief for a moment before he began to check out the room he was in. There was medical equipment, syringes and strange liquids he couldn't even begin to guess what they were. The one thing however, that caught his attention the most, was the large chair in the middle of the room. It had dark blood stains on it. He could tell some of the stains were older but unsettlingly there were a lot of newer stains adorning it. He quickly came to the conclusion that he didn't want to be in the room any longer than he already was and started to make for the exit. He went the opposite way the men went and tried to look for some indicator to where he was in the building. His escape didn’t last long as he was soon cornered by several men with the weapons he’s seen turn people to dust. He got into a fighting stance as he assessed his threats when he heard a slow clap from behind the men. When he made his way to the front, he saw the man from the first time he came to. He blinked a few times before it finally clicked. “Ah, Sergeant. What a wonderful show you put on for us. Did you really think you’d make it out though, I wonder.” he pondered out loud before Bucky spoke up. “Zola.. You were supposed to be captured. How are you here? Did you escape.” he demanded more than he asked as thoughts raced through his head about what happened after he fell. Zola gave him a closed smile and hummed. “Well, Mr. Barnes. Hydra is.. Everywhere. Fantastic things can happen when you make your way into the military and the government.” he said with a small glint in his eyes. “You’d find it fascinating how many people in your country agree with what Schmidt was striving for. You see, we have many people willing to help our cause.” Bucky froze for a moment as he took in the information and shook it out of his head. “What.. What is your goal here? Why am I here. Where is (Y/N).” Zola brushed off his demands. “So many questions, Mr. Barnes. However you are in no position to ask or demand anything… Your Captain is.. Recovering.” he ended with a sick smile and Bucky’s brain immediately went to that room with the chair and his blood ran cold. “If you hurt him, I swear..” he was cut off by Zola talking over him. “You’ll what, Sergeant? You have no power here. Under different circumstances, you might be threatening. For now, you’ll be taking a small rest before we move forward. Sedierung. Schnell, jetzt!” He said, gesturing to the man behind Bucky. He felt a sharp pain in his neck before he started to fall, failing to hold himself up. “Not to worry, Mr. Barnes. You’ll see him sooner or later. Now, sleep.” was the last thing he heard before he blacked out once again.