Azzano/Kreischberg
Bullets dropped around him like the rain that pelted their faces and drummed on the helmets. There were screams coming from the German side, they had been in a stand still with. So someone on their side, or reinforcements had come in and that meant it was time to move. Time to face the other soldiers, and perhaps their makers.
"Get back to Bravo!" Bucky screamed hoarsely over the deafening noises of battle.
He reached up, his fingers slipping on netting, and hastily pulled the round green helmet down further. He tightened the strap around his chin too and gripped the slick gun close to his chest. He glanced to the two muddied men at either side of them.
With a deep breath and a prayer, James nodded solemnly to the men he'd been serving with and they nodded back just as grim. Then James tumbled up out of the trench they'd been pinned in for days with the other men in the 107th. They slid across the dirt and mud, scrambling for a safe perch from the assault the Germans had pinned them with, and not all of the 107th felt the relief of their boots slapping into the water drenched trench on the other side.
Bucky's chest jumped up off the table from the sudden spasms in his body pulling him back to consciousness. He could only feel a shuddering gasp in his chest before it all hit him. What he'd lost his view of the world from in the first place. He was back in hell again. It was all pain, pain and restrained jerks as his body fought him from within. He grunted, pressing his tongue down against the bottom of his mouth to suppress the screams trying to escape him. He wasn't going to fucking scream... he wouldn't let them have the satisfaction. They might kill him, but he wasn't gonna let them kill him as his screams forced the terrified soldier's below this floor to work harder for them, spurred on by the pained screams of their fellows. Bucky would bite his fucking tongue off first. The self righteous thoughts were cut short as suddenly he could feel the flushing through the pain of his cramping muscles. Bucky could feel every muscle. Every muscle he had no idea was there, in the bottom of his throat he could feel sharp pains constricting his breath, his shoulders and under his arms had a thousand needles dragging in and out... his legs were charlie horsing, locked so tight the muscles were popping out of place, stuck.
The pain started to be engulfed in the heat. Bucky was suddenly on fire... he'd never been burning this badly in his entire life. He felt like he was being burned, but there were no flames near him. Water... he needed something to drink...
"He's responding."
"Interesting. Sergeant Barnes."
Panting, a voice he hated, hated with every lick of life in him, forced his attention upward as a light was shined in his eyes. He squinted away and gloved hands jerked his eyelids open roughly, the light blinding him again. It was almost a relieving distraction from the way his stomach was stabbing against his other organs, twisting up inside.
“Oh Sergeant," The light disappeared and he could see that fucking bastard with the glasses above him through the big circles of light still blinking in his eyes. He grunted through the pain still rattling its way through his body, but couldn't get words out. "My name is Arnim Zola, and you’ve held out longer than your counterparts.”
He spit, barely anything, his mouth was dry and he felt close to passing out. His counterparts, good men from all the Allied countries captured, who he only knew from their echoed screams before they died up here. Well they couldn't have Bucky. “Go strai..." He gasped air in as his voice cracked and his throat stung. "Go to hell, ya fuckin Nazi bastard..." He managed to snarl throatily, through his chalky throat, but it hadn't been worth it. There was more pain spreading from his throat now and he gasped for air. No fuck that, it was worth it. He wouldn't die quiet, even if he tried to keep himself to pained grunts and groans.
“Actually I'm Swedish. Yet you have energy to be defiant still? Hm. Very interesting, very.” The scientist chuckled in a high pitch and James swallowed as he saw him pick up some sort of long needle filled with liquid. He could almost hear him add on, maybe he'd survive. Longer than the others they kept murmuring, and he gripped onto it, he wasn't going to leave this world like this. Under the control of these fucking pricks. He'd rather die any other way. He'd wait til he was back in those cages to leave this world, not a moment fucking sooner. Zola chuckled mockingly above him. “Not to worry, I have patience.”
No, no, no... not more... he didn't want more... but fuck it, could it get worse? Whatever they'd put in him already.... Bucky didn't think he was going to make it out of this... but he wasn't going to fucking die. He wouldn't let them fucking have him.