Captivity Narrative

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This is PeterxBucky. Peter is 24.



Death or the life of a prisoner... Peter felt as if it was a choice until it was before him and death seemed neither easy nor acceptable anymore. So captivity was all that was left. They dragged him, bag over his head, roughly into the back of a dark and loud vehicle. They made no effort to protect his head or body as they lugged him around. They'd submitted him to some sort of drug that made his head feel lighter and his body like a weight. It left him unable to perform most basic motor functions and thinking became a real challenge as escape crept farther and farther away.

Sometime between him being thrown onto the floor of the vehicle and his second dose of the drug he had lost consciousness. He woke able to see once again. He could see the dark stains on the thick cobblestone walls and a thin window with a barred grate preventing its use as a possible escape route. The floor was completely made of concrete and stained with more of the same dark colors he could see on the walls. 

He struggled to lift his body off the cold floor to crawl towards the door to look out through the bars. He was cautious as he peeked out at his surroundings. He could see nothing but plain white walls as far the eye could see. He appeared to be at the end of a long hallway.

He saw no use in screaming, knowing that it would only draw unwanted attention from his captors. He laid for a while to try and gather his strength but awoke when the door slammed open against the wall. The loud noise caused him to shoot up into a sitting position. He noted that the drug must be wearing off because movement seemed to grow gradually easier.

The man standing in front of him made his hair stand on end. His eyes held unspoken cruelty and the bloodstains on his coat were unmistakable. Peter watched him hesitantly as he seemed to study him. 

The man continued to stare at him for a minute before nodding once and motioning a guard into the room.

"Stand up." Peter felt a sliver of retaliation rise up in him as he stared into his eyes. The man saw this and walked forward to stomp his foot down into Peter's hand. It was all Peter could do to hold in a scream as one of his fingers went in a very wrong direction. "Next time I'll break worse than a finger. Now I told you to stand up." 

Peter was humiliated as he pushed himself into a standing position, never taking his eyes off the ground. He felt his spirit strong within him but knew very well that it could easily be overtaken by his fear. The guards standing by the door each grabbed one of his arms and began to push him forward through the long, white hallway. Upon reaching the end of the hallway and exiting through the other door he could see many one-way glass windows. On the other side of the windows, there were many people. Some were old, some young, and even some powered individuals could be seen practicing their abilities.

When he stopped to stare for a moment one of the guards took the opportunity to get him moving again by hitting him in the back of the head with the butt of his gun. Peter blinked away the spots in his vision as he dragged his feet forwards once again. When they finally brought him into a room, he noted it was much larger than many of the ones he'd seen before. On the other side of the room, a door opened showing a boy not much older than him. His eyes were wide and held a look of insanity, unlike any Peter had ever seen before. 

Peter was given no warning or instructions before the crazy boy was swinging his fists wildly at him. Peter tried to hold his hands up and step away, but the guards behind him just pushed him back again. 

"Please stop! I don't want to hurt you! I don't want to hurt anyone!" No matter how much Peter pleaded the boy seemed convinced that Peter had to die. So Peter fought back. There wasn't much of a fight when you considered Peter's super strength and reflexes. It took him less than a minute to knock the other boy unconscious. Just when Peter thought this nightmare was over, the guard shot the unconscious boy in the forehead and dragged Peter away, leaving only the body to remain in the room of nightmares.

Peter screamed shrilly as he took one last look at the boy that he might as well have killed himself. He saw what had just occurred as it truly was. If you lost a fight, you died. Peter couldn't lose. He had to go home, but how many people would die before he got there?


Peter had been here so long with only the light from the small window to tell the passing of days. If his counting was correct he'd already been there for over fifty days. During this time, the fights had continued. He'd stopped keeping count of all of the people who'd he'd inadvertently killed in his pursuit of survival. Even though none of them had been directly killed by his hands he knew that it was, in the end, it was still his fault.

Rescue seemed almost impossible and his hope was fading faster than he could try to save it. Then he met him. His bright blue eyes were piercing as they seemed to stare through his soul. He'd been recaptured by Hydra after making his last escape, but they couldn't seem to control him anymore. His presence gave Peter hope, and spending the long nights in the room with him seemed to make things a little more bearable. They both began to care for one another and feelings developed strongly between them inside the walls of their cell.

One night they lay staring warmly into one another eyes on the floor of their cell. They seemed to speak a thousand words in the silence between them. They linked their fingers together. In light of their situation, this intimacy spoke more than what seemed possible.

The silence was only broken by the soft lull of Bucky's voice," I love you, and I'm going to make sure you get back home."



Guess who's got Covid? I feel like a sledgehammer was taken to my backkkkkkk.....anyways comment and leave feedback.


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