Mother Earth ||| Bucky Barnes (2)

12 | 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐌𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝙰𝙻𝙴𝚂𝚂𝙸𝙰 𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙵𝙵
2016, 𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚢-𝚜𝚒𝚡

Melina and I walked back inside, and I met up with Natasha. I grabbed my backpack and immediately stuffed the picture I nicked from the photo book into it. Natasha grabbed my hand, and I didn't pull it away. I didn't want to.

Bright, blinding blue lights shone right after that, beamed by planes from the Red Room. Natasha nodded at me, and I squeezed her hand before silently making my way into the room Yelena and Alexei were in.

When I got there, staffs out and ready, Alexei was on the ground, and Yelena was aiming a gun at me.

"It's just me. Let's go." I whispered to her, and she nodded.

Yelena took my hand, and the two of us crept through Melina's house, weapons out and ready. We came across Natasha passed out on the floor, and we immediately checked on her, to find her still alive.

"What the hell?" I muttered to myself.

From the shadows, a figure approached Yelena and I, and we both turned quickly, ready to attack. Upon seeing that it was Melina in a black suit, we looked at each other before Yelena lowered her gun. I refused to lower my staffs.

"I'm sorry." Melina said, before raising her fist. Neither Yelena or I had any time to prepare as Melina shot us with some form of red electricity. Very similar to Natasha's Widow Bites, actually.

The two of us grunted in pain, before Yelena passed out on top of me, taking me down with her.

Struggling to stay awake, I craned my neck up to look at Melina. "Why?" I strained out.

Melina looked at me. "You're going home." She said, before shooting me again as my eyes widened, fearing her words.

I tried, but the second blast was too much for me to handle, and I slipped into darkness.

❀

I was alone when I woke up, strapped to a cold chair. A chair that has taken away my freedom and my memories too many times to count. I had no idea where Natasha and Yelena were, or Alexei for that matter.

Shaking my head to fight the headache, I tried with all my strength, enhanced and all, but I couldn't break free. A doctor of some sorts entered the room, along with an older man, who looked just like the pictures I've seen of him.

"Domoski." I mumbled out, tired from the drugs that had clearly given me.

He chuckled, slowly stalking over to me. "You do know me. Good. This will make this whole thing easier." He said in his American accent. Weird.

I tried again to wiggle myself out of the chair, but my efforts were in vain, as Domoski waved a hand. The straps tightened around me, and a  metal headpiece came wirring down. It attached to my head, and I froze in fear.

"What are you gonna do to me?" I asked shakily, fearing the answer.

Domoski chuckled, taking my chin in his hand. "I need Terror, darling. I've only ever needed Terror, and you just cannot stop yourself from running. No one will tell your story." He said, before ripping his hand away, and signaling for the doctor.

The doctor hit a button on the machine, and it started. Clenching my fists and my jaw, squeezing my eyes shut, and taking ragid breaths, I felt the pain coming. And I screamed.

I screamed louder than I've ever screamed. I screamed until I couldn't breathe, but even then, I was still alive. I could do nothing but just sit there, and feel my mind be ripped from my body, and have someone else stuffed in. Someone I didn't want to be.