Clutching || Bucky Barnes

9

The doctor sat down and pulled a brown paper file from his briefcase. When he looked up at them through his glasses it was forced blankness. Basil didn't like him. The dislike worsened when the doctor next spoke. "So your first name is James?" No acknowledgement that Basil was there, immediately going for the uncomfortable first name that Bucky never used. Neither man responded. Bucky staring blankly straight ahead and Basil smiling slightly as the doctor looked them over. 

The doctor sighed and pushed his glasses further up his nose. "I'm not here to judge you. I am just here to ask you a few questions. Do you know where you are James?"

Bucky licked his lips before responding slowly, like he was talking to an idiot who he had no time for. "My name is Bucky". It was the same way he would talk to dumbasses like Jameson back in the army barracks so long ago. It made Basil giggle softly. Delight at hearing Bucky finally use his one name bubbling in his chest. 

The doctor sighed slightly. Basil bouncing on the balls of his feet, crouched warningly in front of the cage like a protective leopard. "Tell me, Bucky", the doctor spoke as he wrote across the file. "You've seen a great deal, haven't you?"

"Why are you asking?" Basil answered instead, eyes narrowed. 

Bucky didn't stop his glare. "I don't want to talk about it".

The doctor's gaze barely flittered from its fixed point on Bucky. Basil ignored like he wasn't even there. It sent warning signals beeping in his head. He rose slowly, arms hanging by his sides but body tensed as he stood between the Doctor and the glass. "Do you feel that if you were to open your mouth, the horrors would never stop?" The question was sharp in the air. Basil's lip pulled back from his teeth in a snarl.

"Stop talking". The words were a warning and he took a step towards the doctor threateningly. The man didn't even look at him. He was looking at his phone screen. One finger tapping on the glass before he finally glanced up. 

"Don't worry. We only have to talk about one". Then the lights went out. The electricity cut off and the room was lit in a dim red glow. 

"What the hell is this?" Bucky muttered as the room went dark. Basil didn't wait to find out, immediately striding towards the desk. The red light from the emergency light in the corner highlighting his face in sharpness.

The doctor reached into his satchel in the short time it took and pulled out two items. One was a red leather book with a black star on the cover and the second was a small glass vial that he palmed in his hand. "Why don't we talk about your home?" He kept talking calmly, regardless of the dark room and the avenger storming towards him. "Not Romania. Certainly not Brooklyn, no. I mean your real home".

Basil reached him and he was grabbing the man by the neck and hauling him bodily over the table. "Look", he growled angrily. "I have had a really bad day so if you could quit whatever evil masterminded plan you have going on before I get really angry". Anything that he could have said next was cut off by the sharp shattering of glass. The doctor covered his mouth with a hand but Basil wasn't quick enough. A opaque white smoke drifted around them, escaping the shards of the vial that now fell out of the Doctor's hand. 

It only took one breath, the slightest surprised inhale, a body reaction for it to enter Basil's lungs. He instantly let go and stumbled back and away from the desk but it was too late. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Basil mentally panicked as he felt his legs give way. He should have checked the man for weapons. He should have reacted sooner. Why didn't he go intangible? Anger and exhaustion and frustration had blinded him. Retirement had made him lazy. He hit the floor hard, body sprawling limp across the concrete. Limbs paralysed. 

The doctor straightened his collar. "No, I'm talking about your real home". He picked up the red book, glass shards scattering on the table as he shook his hand. 

Bucky strained but the chair's restraints prevented him from seeing Basil properly. Just his form in the red lighting. "What did you do to him?" His voice was a stated question but there was no mistaking the concern that flashed through his eyes. The red book was flipped open and a torch was flicked on as the doctor rounded the desk and stepped over Basil's limp form. 

"желание". 

The word was loud in the quiet. Basil's mind was screaming but he couldn't move. In his chair, Bucky tilted his head back as the word rung through his mind. The recognition a sickening knife to his stomach. So, that was this man's plan. "No", the plead was a breath. Wetness was building in Basil's eyes. He couldn't move. He couldn't move. Only lay there and feel shallow breath fill his lungs. He could barely even blink. A tear dripped down his face. He wasn't sure if he had ever felt more powerless. 

"ржавый".

"Stop". Basil heard this plea. It cut him. (I'm so sorry. Forgive me. Forgive me Sarge. Bucky. Forgive me. I can't move. I can't move. Please, please, please. I need to move. Why was I so stupid? I need to stop him. I need to move. Please. Sarge. I need to help him. I must move! Why can't I move?) .

"семнадцать". The doctor was circling the cage slowly now. Bucky's hands gripping into fists. 

"Stop". It was a command as muscles tightened.

"рассвет".

Bucky let out a scream. A ferocious, angry thing as his arms began straining against their binds. Basil felt another tear drip down his face as he kept straining to move. Body fighting the effects of whatever gas had infected him. He couldn't see what was going on, having fallen with his head tilted away from the cage. Unable to see Bucky or the doctor. Unable to move.

There was a crack as the metal came loose, Bucky screaming out in effort as his metal arm ripped free. The metal literally tearing away from the chair. The doctor barely reacted. The next word coming louder and sharper to cut through the noise. 

"печь".

Another crackle of tearing metal. Bucky's other arm coming free with a grunt. Banging beginning to echo round the room as he fought to break the reinforced glass. Breathing desperate and loud. Panic in his actions and the resounding pounding against the glass. 

"девять".

A resounding bang that echoed round the room. Bang! Bang! Bang! Human skin and metal fist hitting glass.

"доброкачественный". The doctor was round the back of the cage now, his steps coming in a circle. Bucky let out a yell as he kept struggling. Spiderwebs of cracks forming on the glass, each hit widening them. Basil couldn't move. 

"возвращение на родину". The doctor was almost around the other side. Basil's mind was screaming and his fingers twitched. Limbs still cold and dead on the floor. Useless.

"один". The metal gave way and the wall of the cage fell down with a resounding crash. 

"грузовой вагон!" The last word echoed and for a terrifying moment everything was quiet. Basil listened intently for anything. And for a second there was nothing as the dread began to build up in his lungs. Then a voice spoke. Not, Bucky's but the soldier. Monotone Russian that sent a tear down Basil's cheek as the realisation of what had happened dawned. 

The doctor looked over the still form for a second, relishing his success. "Mission report", he instructed. "December 16. 1991". 

unedited