Travel
Oh god, oh god. I was so fucked. I was so completely and utterly fucked.
“Stupid,” I hissed, struggling to maintain my balance as the van picked up speed. I crawled onto my knees and frantically ran my cuffed hands across the filth-covered floor, looking desperately for something I could use to escape. Just my luck that my abductors were equally as fictitious about their transportation as they were about their unusually tidy asses. “So fucking stupid. I shouldn’t have gone into the town. I knew something bad would happen and I did it anyway. So fucking stupid.”
I moved methodically, searching for anything sharp enough to pick the lock on the cuffs. I had a plan. Get the cuffs off and then get out of the moving van before we arrived at wherever it was they were taking me. Easy-fucking-peasy.
About five more minutes passed before I felt something sharp and metal under my fingertips. I grasped it excitedly and immediately fell back against the wall of the van. I took a moment and realised how badly I was shaking.
“Can’t pick a lock if you can’t keep your hands still, Stark,” I whispered, breathing slowly and evenly. A few more minutes passed and I felt calm enough to get to work. And really, it was ridiculously easy to get the cuffs off. The locking mechanism made a satisfying clicking noise and I slipped my wrist free.
“OK,” I said, getting back to my knees and crawling to the front of the van. I ran my hands across the door but I couldn’t see a locking mechanism. No handle, no lock. No way to open it from the inside. A few seconds later I realised the door was was reinforced with a second sheet of metal. There were a number of fastenings fixing the sheet in place. It became apparent pretty fucking quickly that I wasn’t getting it off without the proper tools.
“Fuck,” I whispered, falling back on my ass and just staring at the stupid piece of metal standing between me and freedom. “Goddammit,” I screamed, jackrabbiting both feet into the covering with every ounce of strength I possessed. “Let me out. Let me out of this damned fucking shit heap of a -”
The van stopped.
I scrambled back, grabbing the cuffs and putting them back on without locking them. I had just enough time to pocket the screw and then the door opened and Bucky was peering in at me.
“You OK in here?” he asked brightly, his eyes passing over me speculatively. “You were making a hell of a ruckus.”
“I want to leave,” I said, proud that my voice remained even despite how terrified I felt. “I’m not what you think I am. I’m not worth anything to anyone and I want to go home.”
Bucky nodded his head in agreement. Condescending prick. “We thought maybe you’d want to ride up front with us. Must be pretty rocky back here?”
“I’m good, thanks.”
Bucky kept nodding. “Even so, I’m gonna have to insist.”
I could feel my heart beating frantically in my chest as my fight or flight instincts kicked in. He was only one guy, I reasoned. Sure, he was bigger than me but he wasn’t that big. I had to at least try.
I bolted but I didn’t even make it out of the van before Bucky’s metal arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me clear off my feet. I was hoisted up against the other man's broad chest and carried one armed out of the van and pushed into the front seat. He climbed in after me and suddenly I was wedged between the two of them. Again.
“He got the cuffs off,” Steve noted. He sounded pissed.
“Omegas got skills,” Buck laughed, pulling the door closed and settling back with a small smile.
“I’m not an omega,” I instantly denied. “Is that why you took me? What are you guys? Are you slavers? Is that why -”
“We should have left him in the back,” Steve said, starting the van up and driving.
Bucky scoffed and ruffled my hair. “I think his ramblings cute.”
I seriously considered punching the other man in the throat. The only reason i hesitated was because, so far, they hadn’t actually hurt me. It seemed stupid to invite violence to the mix. “That’s me,” I said instead. “Fucking adorable.”
“Language,” Steve said sternly.
“Yeah, how about you go fuck yourself,” I murmured.
Bucky chuckled darkly. “Steve’s kinda old fashioned.”
“What about you?”
The brunet shrugged. “Couldn’t care less.”
"Awesome. So what’s the plan here, boys?” I asked, curling into myself to avoid touching either of them in the confined space. “Where exactly are you taking me? What are you doing to do me?”
“Nothing bad,” Steve said, pressing his hand against my knee and squeezing in what he presumably thought was a soothing manner.
I felt sick. “Keep your goddamn hands to yourself,” I shouted, slapping him away and twisting towards the door. “You need to let me out. I need to get out.”
“Just calm down,” Bucky said, forcing me to straighten up from where I was sprawled across his lap, trying to get to the doorhandle.
“No, you don’t understand,” I gasped, fighting him. “I need you to open the door. I’m going to -”
And yup, I just puked all over good ol’ Bucky’s lap.