fifty-seven.
Standing outside of the room for as long as they did seemed like some kind of formality like they were waiting for some kind of invitation into whatever kind of torture chamber was on the other side of the door. Inside there was cursing and the occasional scream, but nothing more. Peter's once heightened senses were failing him now, so if there were any other noises inside, he couldn't tell.
He'd served his days of torture for this, to see the man on the other side of the door. He got no rewards, no warm food, hell, no food. Rumlow had been starving him since he asked to see the man. He hoped going in there would be worth it.
"I want to speak with him alone." He said quietly, which earned him a yank on his hair. He didn't make a sound at the pain, just closed his eyes.
Rumlow seemed almost pleased with the reaction and smacked the boy right on the open wounds on his shoulder. "That will cost you tremendously, I hope you know..."
And Peter just nodded because of course he knew. Everything here came with a price down here, and for some reason, this felt like something he needed to pay for. This was something he needed to do. The metal-armed man was leaning against the wall beside the door, glancing up at Peter through his hair.
"Don't suppose you'd try and keep me out," he said, and all Peter did was let out a short breath of air through his nose. Of course, he couldn't keep him out, he was inside his head after all. This hallucination was the only person that treated him like a person, and he wasn't even a person at all. But he remembered things that Peter didn't. The man was a part of his subconscious, the only thing protecting his memories. When they spoke, he'd only tell Peter little bits at a time, and then he'd go quiet.
The man had a name though, an identity. He'd heard the man talking to himself once and after he'd been caught he explained that Peter knew what he was saying because he'd heard it before. The man didn't know anything that Peter didn't know. He'd remembered, only briefly, that it was what soldiers were trained to do under torture. They were required to give their captors their name, rank, and serial number.
Even though it didn't belong to him, Peter had taken to using it too. Some days it was the only coherent thought that he had.
Rumlow had released his hair and taken a step back. The man with the arm was repeating himself again, that same phrase. The one that kept them both sane inside of this hell. "Barnes... James Buchanan... Sergeant... 3... 2... 5... 5..."
He cut off when the door opened. Peter could tell that he was worried by how slowly he was repeating himself. This was not a good day for them. An Agent stepped out of the room and Rumlow pushed Peter through the door.
"You have ten minutes." Was all he said before he slammed the door closed.
Peter turned around and there on the floor was a scarred man, staring up at him with wide eyes.
Wade was shocked to see Peter in front of him. He hadn't seen Peter since he tried to break him out of here. He could easily see how thin the boy was, and the open wounds covering him weren't hard to spot either. The sight of the boy made him shake with anger.
"What the hell have they done to you?" He seethed as the boy came closer. His face was sunken in, he was pale... Wade was surprised that the boy's legs could even carry him in the first place. He almost looked like a corpse.
Despite his arms being in chains that hung from the wall, he tried to reach out to touch the boy. The boy flinched a little at the sudden movement and Wade apologized for startling him.
"What are you doing here?"
Peter's voice was broken, as cracked as his lips were. "Do you know me?"
Wade's heart dropped. The boy in front of him, so beaten and badly broken that he didn't even know who he was anymore, was asking him for help and he was chained to a fucking wall. All the time he's been dying and coming back, Peter's been suffering.
"Yeah, Petey, I do know you."
The boy's voice shook. "I don't."
Knowing now that the boy really didn't know himself, who he is, who he used to be, made Wade angrier than he'd ever been.
"Something... I think I was supposed to come to you, I... Remember how you tried to save me... We need to get out of here..." He said quietly, glancing around like he was afraid something would happen at any moment, and it very well could.
He needed out of these cuffs. This was the first real moment he'd been without an Agent in his room, so maybe now he could make his escape and save his baby boy from this hell. He pulled, twisting and shaking his arm to try and get his hand through it. He knew that Peter had some kind of strength, but right now he probably wouldn't be able to use it. Judging by his wounds, he knew that they were doing something to keep him from healing.
"Why are you here, Peter? Why did you come for me?" He asked desperately. Every moment that Peter was here was another moment he could be using to escape. The boy shook his head.
"I can't leave without you... I don't want to and, I-I know you're a lot stronger than I am, you're more likely to get out than I am."
He nodded and asked the boy to pull as hard as he could manage on one of the chains. The boy put all of the effort he could into pulling the chain, and it creaked and pulled. Wade put his weight into it and after a minute of their combined strengths, a brick holding the chain to the wall came clear free from the concrete. He reached out and pulled the boy close.
"I won't let them hurt you anymore. I'll get you out of here."