Safe with me

Chapter 15: I'm trusting you

"Do you know my favorite novel?" Jack asks casually, giving the book a small shake.

Peering around Bucky, you see a faded red cover, a worn and cracked spine, pages fat from decades of moisture and grimy fingers. A familiar title is stamped across the front.

"George Orwell, 1984. In my day, it was required reading for new recruits. Hydra's ideals, laid out in black and white. So easy, so obviously the right choice. Orwell understood perfectly. A shining example of how the world could prosper if you eliminate the temptation of choice."

"That story was satire you fucking moron. It was taken literally by arrogant dicks who were looking for a reason to be assholes," you scoff.

Bucky clears his throat quietly and pushes you behind him.

"Uncultured swine," you add, poking your head back around.

Bucky sighs and shoves you harder.

Grumbling under your breath, you press close to his back and he reaches around, capturing your fingers. Folding his thumb against your palm, he rubs small circles on your skin, his grip hot and reassuring.

"Let him talk, the team'll be here soon," he murmurs , squeezing your hand when he hears the annoyed huff.

Jack ignores the exchange, his attention fixed on Bucky.

"You know when I took the Head job, they gave me instruction manuals for you? So logical and clinical. Like a new appliance. Read them cover to cover, but they missed some important context."

Rifling through the paperback, he lands on a dog-eared page. Glancing down he finds the opening sentence and begins to recite, his voice as steady as the fanatic stare he levels at Bucky.

—–

"How does one man assert his power over another, Winston?"

Winston thought. "By making him suffer," he said.

"Exactly. By making him suffer. Obedience is not enough. Unless he is suffering, how can you be sure that he is obeying your will and not his own? Power is in inflicting pain and humiliation. Power is in tearing human minds to pieces and putting them together again in new shapes of your own choosing."

—–

There's silence when he finishes, still looking expectantly at Bucky.

"That was dramatic," you pipe up sarcastically.

"Oh my god, would you shut the fuck up," Jack finally explodes. "Before I rip your tongue out, you mouthy little whore – "

"Stop fucking talking," Bucky snarls. "You don't touch her. I won't play this game, it's not happening. Sooner you accept that, the sooner we can stop pretending like I won't tear your heart out the second this barrier comes down."

Jack cocks his head. "No, you won't. What I did all those years, it was right. My Soldier suffered because he was made to. I tore him apart and put him back together and he thanked me for it. He always thanked me. And he will again, because he needs it, he needs me."

"Jesus Christ. You're insane. I'm telling you with absolute conviction – you're extremely fucking wrong."

"Guess we'll see," Jack shrugs and gives a sly smile. "I saw the look on your face though. Expecting a little red notebook?"

Bucky is silent, but you feel his body tense.

"I was pissed when I heard Rogers destroyed it. Talk about great literature. But hey, doesn't really matter, right? We both know, I had those words memorized the first time I read them. Used to sing them to myself when I couldn't sleep."