I hate you more ~buckybarnes enemies to lovers

Chapter 31 ~ No one

Mercy.

(Y/n Pov, tw: torture)

"The girl, the one at the building. Who is she?" I'm sat on the chair. My body may be here, but my mind is not. My gaze has faded into the thick air.

"That's nothing you need to worry about, Red." Pierce's low growl fills the room.

A brief pause of silence suffocates the room. However, my voice still travels through it like a knife.

"But I knew her."

"No, you don't, Red." He says loudly, almost as if he's trying to cover his lies with volume to make them more believable. Pierce makes a few whispers to the nearby guards and agents.

A flicker of remembrance flashes through my eyes.

"Yes, I do."

"No, Red." He's grabbing at straws now, a hope that I won't cause too much trouble.

The words fir our my mouth like bullets, instinctively, as i was taught, but this wasn't. "That's not my name. That - no. No, no, no, no. Not again, not again." I freeze. "Bucky!"

My head swings to the Soldier sat on a different chair, with a different mechanical headpiece. I could've sworn that some flash of memories hide beneath his cold eye, the ice inside defrosting.

"Bucky! Bucky!" My eyes gleam with realisation, and a burning, angry fire lay beneath them. "Don't hurt him! I swear if you lay a finger on him!-"

"Y/n-" A low, soft voice interrupts my not-so-empty threats to Pierce, and the while of HYDRA, to be honest.

"Bucky.." I face his struggling, shirtless body that fights the restraints.

God, does he look good.

Nope, now is not the time for this.

My face softens slightly to see that he remembers, but it's quickly replaced with the reality that we are going to have to forget all over again.

"While we wipe him, do what you want to her. Just make sure any hope is crushed, got it, Orlov?" I catch Pierce whispering to Adrian, who nods.

I scream in defiance as Adrian drags me to a separate room. Away from Bucky. Again.

The room is almost all metal, meaning this is a torture room.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I want to fight, but before I can move another muscle, he drags me into vibranium handcuffs that are drilled into the ceiling.

He smirks at the sight of me defenceless. His light brown hair drifts into his malicious glare.

As he fiddles with the handcuffs, he smugly says, "You know, hanging by the wrists can cause permanent nerve damage, and serious damage to blood vessels after just 15 minutes. I wonder how long a super soldier can hold out?"

I attempt to struggle against it, but I can't do much when I can already feel it becoming difficult to breathe and my hands not in use.

Suddenly, Adrian's fist meets my stomach. I let out a groan, followed by a small chuckle from the surprise of this attack. "You're weak." I spit insults towards him.

"Weak? Oh, sweet angel." He goes quiet for a second, obviously for dramatic effect. "I haven't even started yet."

I continued to struggle against the vibranium handcuffs, warm, fresh blood trickling down my arm, dripping onto the white sports bra they left me in. I feel the metal cut into my hands while I'm left dangling like a pig in a butchers window.

Adrian has walked a few steps away to grab a knife that rested on the metal table.

I swing my legs, hoping for momentum to kick him.

I don't do much except cause my wrists further damage.

I'm struggling for breath because my arms are above my head, making my lungs work harder for mould infused oxygen.

"Oh no, no, you're not getting out of it this easily sweet." He walks closer, meaning I can't kick him.

His face is in front of mine. The knifes flat surface presses against my cheek.

My body tenses in anticipation of pain.

But it doesn't come.

The knifes cool flat surface slowly travels down my body, past my collarbone.

Adrian hasn't cut me yet, which makes me think he's skilled with a knife. It takes a professional to hold a knife to someone like this and not cut them.

I feel him tilt the knife inwards, lightly dragging it across the left side of my stomach.

Blood follows as if the knife is it's leader and they are their red army.

I wince when he doesn't stop, Adrian lets out a low, patronising chuckle.

His fingers run across my stomach, along the scars. He roughly traces them, the usual smirk twisting his face into a cruel demon.

"So ugly. No one will ever want you." His eyes trained on my scars. The demonic hand moves to my thigh and traces another scar. His hand is like the knife. "Not even your little boyfriend in the other room. We've been watching you, my sweet, he hates you. Nothing will change that."

"Fuck you." I pant, my breath is struggling, a headache forming.

"And don't even get me started on your father." He continues, ignoring my comment. "He doesn't care. No one does. You're unwanted y/n. They won't come and save you. Никто." (No one.)

He presses into a sensitive scar, my breath hitches. "Does that hurt?" He mocks and chuckles sadisticly. "They don't care. Not you're 'bucky'. Not anyone."

As if on cue, I hear Bucky's screams rattle through the walls, vibrating the metal the coats the room.

More ruff, pained crys echo the room.

Adrian laughs once more.

That little-

Anger burns more, the flames of fire in my eyes float higher than they have before.

My wrists struggling relentlessly.

I don't care how much pain it causes me, I need to get out, I need to save him.

My eyes prick with tears but I still try to block them out.

Rule no.1 Don't let anyone see your weaknesses.

Blood keeps steaming down my arms, the white sports bra looking more red by the minute.

"Don't struggle my sweet, it's only been 10 minutes."

Only 10 minutes?!

Pierce's shout to go again after it failed echos again.

He's fighting it.

Before I can think another thought, a siren sounds and floods the eardrums of everyone inside. A red light flashes through the halls.

Adrian freezes, his smirk is gone. He puts his hand to his earpiece. Sound echos it, only just loud enough to hear over the alarm.

"Code 447, severe break in. Avenger are here."