Chapter 1
It was dark. Not the darkness you could see through in the middle of the night, the kind which you can see by given enough time. No, this was the dark of a cave. Blinding. Oppressive. The kind which makes your eyes dart, seeking any form of reprieve. The kind that steals your breath and stalls your mind. It was the kind of darkness you linked to fear. It settles in your chest, a suffocating weight, squeezing the air from your lungs. Your mind dims at the edges. Your limbs feel like they are chained to the floor. It’s visceral. You can feel the gloom crawling across your skin, forcing its way into your pores and wrapping around your cells. It’s squeezing the life from you, dimming your light.
You’re dying, alone in the pitch black of night. My fault, your mind whispers as it wills your neurons to fire. My fault.
He could have been here to save you. He could have been here to hold your hand, smooth the hair from your face. You could have seen his face one last time. Seen his smile.
It was agony. An unparalleled torture. One you could not survive.
I’m sorry, my love. I’m so sorry.
He can't hear you. He’s not with you.
You left him standing alone in the middle of the apartment, shell shocked and abandoned. Your need for more, more time, more commitment had obliterated any hope the relationship had.
“Tell me where he is and the pain will stop, little bird.”
A sharp stinging pain flares in your side. The warm flow of your blood the only heat in the small room. You attempt to scream. Not a sound makes it past your lips. Your vocal cords were long past saving. You had screamed yourself past the point of no return hours ago, and now your limbs were numb, the chains cutting off the circulation.
Your only reply is to spit in the general direction of the voice. It laughs maniacally in return, a high pitched sound which sets your hair on edge.
“I do not need your words, little bird,” he says gently, almost friendly.
Your heart sinks into your stomach. Bucky had regaled you with tales of his past and you knew what Hydra would do to you. You had no defence against it. They would know where the base was. They would find him and the rest of The Avengers, and it would be entirely your fault. They would die, or worse, and there was nothing you could do to stop them.
The chains around your arms and legs fall away. The pain of the blood flow returning to the appendages near overwhelming. You’re dragged mercilessly through the building, blessed light stinging your eyes.
It feels like hours before you’re thrown haphazardly into a metal chair and strapped in, a large device is placed over your head. A mouth guard is shoved into your mouth.
You’re surprised by the action. You hadn’t expected any form of protection.
The whirring of the machine throws your mind back into the present, and you’re surprised to find you can still scream.
*****
Earlier that day:
“Help me pack or get out. You’re in the way,” you snap harshly at the figure obscuring the doorway.
His chocolate locks frame his face, oceanic blue eyes scrutinizing you intently. His arms are folded tightly across his chest, his jaw set in a hard determined line. “No,” he replies simply.
Gritting your teeth in frustration, you throw the last of your clothes into your suitcase, zipping it closed hurriedly. “You can’t stop me, Bucky.”
He scoffs, shoving off the doorframe and stalking towards you. He’s furious, his jaw ticking in anger. “You’re going to regret this in the morning.”
The fury which bursts from you makes you nauseous. “Regret?” you scream. “Do you know what I regret?”
Bucky growls, actually fucking growls, like a caged animal coiled to spring at any moment
“A year of my life gone waiting for you to come home! A year worrying you never would! A year pretending I didn't want more!” You turn away from him, suddenly unable to look at him, to watch him digest your words.
“So you leave? Pack and go. No talking it out? You’re a coward, (Y/N)!”
The slap you plant across his face rings throughout the room, your chest heaving with anger.
He grabs the offending hand and pulls you flush to his chest, his eyes challenging. “Tell me you don’t love me, and I’ll let you leave right now,” he demands.
And that's when you realize how spiteful you are, how petty you can be, because the next words you utter lands you straight in Hydra’s hands and leaves Bucky standing alone in the apartment, watching you leave.
“I don't love you.”
He lets go instantly, an infinite torture flashing in his eyes.
You wish you could take it back. You wish you could rewind the entire day and start over. Instead, you pick up your bag from the bed and walk away, slamming the door behind you when you leave.
You were jumped not two hours later, tortured and beaten, stripped of all that you knew. The serum pumped into you, all viable information taken from your head and then wiped. Every trace of Bucky wiped from memory.
"я готов отвечать." Ready to comply, you mutter dumbly, looking dead ahead.
“Very good, little bird,” your handler replies excitedly, clapping his hands, a jovial little laugh sounds in the room.
“Hail Hydra!” the call sounds.
You raise your arm, your voice sounding with the rest. You had only one mission.
Destroy The Avengers. Bring the asset back. Rid the world of it’s freedom.
Hail Hydra.