Demons ━ Bucky Barnes [1]

21 ━ ANDREA

DEMONS.
( chapter twenty-one. )

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Edited 12/26/2015 @1:50 AM
Edited 07/21/2016 @7:18 PM
Edited 11/29/2017 @2:35 AM

[ WINTER SOLDIER. ]

  THE MAN KEPT CALM.

  With his back pressed firmly to the reclined chair, surrounded by men with guns, he had to be. There simply weren't any other options— at least, not for him. But, he felt it simmering just beneath the surface; a barely contained frustration. For someone meant to be a weapon, he felt entirely useless.

  However, the man knew better than to voice his thoughts. He kept his expression neutral. His eyes just as hollow. Emotions were a dangerous thing. The cost wasn't a price he was willing to pay, especially when he hardly knew what or why he was feeling.

Though, it was often like that; him, lacking the knowledge and yet having the skill already ingrained. The notion as to what was right or wrong decided only by the men who had done this to him. He needed nothing. No thoughts. No feelings.

  And yet, he still wondered. What had they done? Was he better for it? Was it neccesary? Did it fulfill a purpose?

  A dull ache ricocheted through his head, spreading fast. He hardly flinched. Thoughts too preoccupied by each question he asked himself.

What was his purpose?

What was he made for?

A soft groan sounded. This was worse than a migraine, it felt like someone had reached in to pry open his skull. The world around him began to spin. He was pushing against a barrier he knew he shouldn't touch.

  But he did it anyway, because he had to know— who was she?

  That woman on the bridge had sparked a curiosity inside of him. It gnawed at his self-control. Ate from his thoughts. His need to understand was poison. He knew that.

He should have abandoned all thought of her. He should have refused to wonder at her agony. Her pain. A smarter man would have realized what it would cost him. A machine would not ask questions.

And that's exactly what he was; a machine.

  The thought brought no comfort. The man glanced to the person beside him. A support worker, repairing his metal arm. He didn't recognize their face, but he seemed to understand what he was doing. As if he'd done it all before.