Gooey Day Dreams
1946
The handful of months that (Y/N) could remember, bled together. The darkness of the cell they were kept in mixed with the constant “conditioning” he was put under didn’t help him keep time well or retain many current memories. (Y/N) woke to find himself strapped down to the chair yet again. His heart rate spiked immediately as he tugged at the restraints. “Kapitän, you know struggling won’t do you any good. Relax a bit or this.. Procedure will be more painful.” He said lightly scolding him with a sick smile as he prepared the syringes. “Steve will find you. Hell. I reckon he’ll kill ya for hurting us too.” His statement made Zola pause briefly before he let out a soft chuckle. “Your dear Captain Rogers is dead. Crashed into the ocean. Same day you were taken to our facilities in fact.” The news made his blood run cold, his struggling stopping all at once. ‘He’s been dead.. For months..’ he thought as he watched Zola prep him. He was stuck and no one knew where he was. “You’re lying..” He said softly but with a hard glare. He shook his head a bit as he started to inject him with a reddish fluid, causing him to let out a hiss. “No, Kapitän. I am many things but I’m not a liar by trade. Only when it concerns my life and this does not. He is dead.” he said with a tone of finality that shut him up. He closed his eyes as he felt the pain start taking over again. Unable to hold it in much longer, he let out a rough scream as he took notes on him. “Impressive.. Conditioning will continue at once. As soon as Soldat awakens, inject him with number 195 and number 48. When that is done, inject subjects 28, 16 and 44 with the same as well as the new experimental serums.” he said to one of the other doctors in the room. (Y/N) could hardly hear himself think as they started to cut him open in several places, again taking notes then talking in hushed Russian and sometimes German when they could. (Y/N) thrashed slightly, not having much energy left to do much else aside from wiggle and scream. He doesn’t remember when, but he knows for a fact he blacked out from the pain. He took count of what he could see and if anything was done or attached to his body. He saw several wires hooked up to his arms, a few tubes pumping him with god knows what and a rubber guard in his mouth. He took a deep breath before letting it out, trying not to panic again. He closed his eyes when he heard movement, pretending to still be unconscious. “Now, if this works, we can go ahead with the trial runs on Soldat. Now, he’s all prepped, let’s begin.” Zola said excitedly before the familiar whirling caught his attention, his eyes closing tighter as he anticipated the pain that was to follow. He felt the air shift by his head as the men attached different things to his arms by the restraints. When the pads made contact with (Y/N)’s face, it immediately sent a stinging shock through his skull, traveling towards the small pads they attached to him just before. He bit down on the guard and strained against the restraints they added to him. He let out a loud muffled scream as a few tears trailed down his cheeks as the shocks went through him at painful intervals. His brain started to buzz as Zola opened the book and read from it. “Nenavisti. Khochu. Dvadtsat’ pyat’. Sumerkakh. Zhar - ptitsa. Shest’ . Neznachitel’ naya. Lunnyy svet. Devyat’. Vergessene.” (Hatred. Want. Twenty Five. Nightfall . Firebird. Six. Insignificant. Moonlight. Nine. Forgotten.) (Y/N) stiffened slightly before he continued to fight against the shocks before the pads released themselves, withdrawing back to the rest of the machine and leaving (Y/N) to slump against the chair. He panted as he slowly opened his eyes, glaring at Zola who was now beside him and in his range of sight. He pushed the guard out of his mouth, causing it to fall next to his head. “Kapitän, ready to comply?” (Y/N) sneered at him. “Go to hell.” he growled at him. He simply scribbled something in his notes before shoving the guard back in his mouth. “Again!” He called out before he felt the chair shift slightly as the pads made their way back to his head. He did his best to hold his screams in as the shocks were administered again but higher this time, if that was at all possible. His jaw clenched down on the rubber guard as he let out a few screams but for the most part they were just choked sobs as his arms weakly pulled at the cuffs. After reading from the book again and administering the shocks for a bit longer than necessary, he raised his hand. “Enough. We will resume tomorrow.” (Y/N) let out a shuddering breath as the shocks stopped, trying to get his breathing under control. He heard Zola exchange some words with someone in German then in Russian but his brain was so scrambled at that moment, he couldn't even begin to try and decipher what he was saying. The guards pulled him out of the chair after he took the rubber guard out of his mouth, placing it in a dish. They dragged him to a room that he was vaguely familiar with. They threw him in, letting him fall on his elbows as he tried to avoid having his face hit the cement. He hardly had time to brace himself before someone gave him a harsh kick in his ribs, sending him back to the floor. He heard a cabinet open and it clicked. This was his punishment room. The sound of the leather and metal hitting the floor made his skin crawl. The metal tips of the whip dragged across the cement as he tried to get to his feet but he was quickly kicked onto his stomach. He felt the sting of the metal before he heard the crack. It tore his back open, ripping his shirt in the process. He let out a small whimper, not having the energy to scream as the blood started to trickle down his back and sides. His body tensed with each lash and kick he received. He could hear someone speaking in the corner of the room but he couldn't hear the words that were being said. He just knew it made his brain buzz and it clouded his vision. He lost track of how long he was kept in that room, as well as the various torture methods they all delt to him. It felt like every agent or guard was taking their turn doing their worst and for all he knew they could’ve been. The small moment of reprieve he got, he just laid there in his small pool of blood. He took a shuddering breath as he felt the wounds slowly closing up. It felt as if his skin was stitching itself back together, albeit very slowly, they began to heal. It didn't make the pain stop but it lessened it some as it healed. As (Y/N) laid there, Zola was in another room watching the live feed and recording as they took notes. If they planned on getting a perfect super soldier, they needed to iron out the wrinkles in the plan and if that meant testing on (Y/N) and seeing what happens, so be it. In Zola’s mind, he was dispensable, a means to an end and someone to make sure the experiments were safe enough for Bucky. (Y/N) was merely a catalyst for Barnes because he was a better candidate to receive the end result. He was the most promising subject Zola had. (Y/N) sat up on his knees when he got the strength to and took a deep breath only to wince when he felt a sharp pain go through his ribs. They weren’t yet healed and he cursed under his breath. When the doors opened again, he stood up and was ready to fight before a voice cut through his train of thought. “Ah ah ah, Kapitän. If you resist, you won’t be the only one in unnecessary pain.” He could hear the smirk in his voice as he froze, letting the guards take him by his arms, forcing him back down. He knew they wouldn’t hesitate to hurt Bucky to try to keep him in line and the worst part about it was it worked. (Y/N) took every blow, every lash, every broken bone so Bucky didn’t suffer for his actions. As the guards dragged him back to his cell, not bothering to give him anything else to wear, he started to get lost in his own mind a bit. He started fantasising about the past, before the three of them were ultimately shipped off for the final time. By the time he was thrown into the cell, he was slightly oblivious to the fact that his location was changed. When he looked around, he expected to find Bucky but his anxiety started to rise when he was nowhere in the small ten by ten cell. He wanted to think, to hope, that he wasn’t being hurt but he knew otherwise. He slowly moved himself onto the stiff mattress that was shoved into the corner and stared at the door, willing it to open with his mind, hoping that Bucky would be better off than he currently was.
Nearly a full three hours later, Bucky was dumped back in the cell, causing (Y/N) to scramble to catch him before he fell face first on the floor. He sent the guards that laughed as they closed the door a glare but it only amused them. He sighed softly and looked down at Bucky, resting his head in his lap as his labored breath filled the room. He gently moved his hair out of his face and noticed the burn marks that he assumed were left by the machine. The anger only seemed to build when he saw him hurting and softly whimpering in pain whenever he even moved a fraction of an inch. He gently kissed his forehead, not caring if the cameras in his cell could see him. “Hey sunshine.. You're safe now, okay? I got you.” he whispered in his ear, relief flooding through him as he felt him relax slightly. He tried to soothe the ache he knew he felt as his body began to heal. He carefully moved Bucky towards the bed and let him use his lap as a pillow as he leaned against the wall. He closed his eyes as he gently massaged the areas he could, trying to ease Bucky’s pain. He started to slip into his mind, thinking about what future they could’ve had. He liked to think that Steve and them would’ve celebrated and taken the girls out dancing. He wished he could’ve seen Peggy again. Hell, even Stark or the Commandos. He thought about celebrating their win. The end of the war. He hoped everyone survived and that Peggy would lead them to continue the fight against the Nazi’s and kill every last one of them.