before the storm / bucky barnes

030

          THE treatment I received back in New York seems like heaven now.

Because now I have no plush chair. Or two meals a day. I don't even have a calendar or clock on the wall to mock me.

But what do I have? Men taking turns coming into my hell hole of a cell and beating me black and blue. I'm just thankful that the abuse is only physical right now, these guys look like they haven't had any action in decades.

Russia is very cold at this time of year, and I'm still wearing the same sweatshirt and pants from New York. Only now they don't seem as warm seeing as the temperature difference is 30 degrees less than New York.

They haven't put restraints on me though, I guess they believe they've rendered me too weak. I would disagree with them, but I'm way too everything-deprived to do anything about it.

So I stay here, curled up in agony on this stained mattress that lay on the corner of the room.

I'm forced to quickly sit up as I hear the door open.

My expression morphs into that of annoyance and anger as I watch Rumlow shut the door behind him.

"What, not happy to see me?" Rumlow pouts at me as my eyes narrow.

"Why not just kill me? It's obvious you just want Bucky, so why not kill me and send them my body? That'll get him here," I cock my head to the side and raise my eyebrows at him.

"That'd be too easy, don't you think?" Rumlow says, answering my question with yet another question. I exhale harshly through my nose. My eyes travel to the gun in his holster, directly next to his HYDRA identification badge as I place my hands on either side of be and adjust my position on the mattress.

"Why haven't you been in here much? Don't fancy having your way with me like so many of your men have?"

He just stands there, back at the door. I take this as an opening for me to continue.

"You're pathetic," I spit. "You know he'll know we're here, you think he hasn't spoken to me about the shit-holes you used to lock him in? This probably used to be him room,"

I watch as Rumlow's lips quirk up into a snarl as I continue to spit venom at him.

"You wanna know why I think I'm here? You snatch me from the street instead of seeking Bucky yourself because you didn't have the balls to. I think you're still fucking terrified of him, and it shows on your disgusting, deformed face,"

That's all it takes for Rumlow to take long, quick strides towards me. Grasping me tightly by the neck and lifting me on my feet with ease.

"You have no use to me, bitch. The moment Bucky gets here we'll kill you right in front of him,"

"Maybe I should kill you right now, let you rot here for a couple of days before your precious Avengers gets here," Rumlow spits in my face as I attempt to shake from his grip.

That's when I bring my hand to his holster, pulling his gun out and bringing my leg up to kick him away in one swift movement.

I then fire at his leg as my butt hits the mattress without a second thought.

The gunshot brings obvious attention to the room and it takes mere seconds for HYDRA agents to storm in and apprehend me, helping Rumlow out the room and I send him a quick smirk and a wink before something punctures my neck, injecting a serum of god-knows what.

The last thing I see is Rumlow's bloodied leg before I'm out cold.

-

I always admired kissing.

I felt it was the rawest way of showing emotion, the most intimately pure thing you could share with the one you loved. It could iterate such meaningful emotion without having to utter a single word.

Which is exactly why I kissed Bucky every chance I got.

It's a shame now, because I couldn't tell you what our last kiss was. I couldn't tell you where, or when.

And it hurts. Because despite the fact that I'm bound to a chair, in an abandoned, rural area in the middle of Russia — I couldn't help but think of him.

I replace the blood trailing down my torso with his touch. The dark, throbbing bruises left on my neck from Rumlow's tight hold with his lips. The cried that left my own lips are replaced with the soothing words that left his.

And suddenly? I am at ease.

And it doesn't matter that he doesn't know where I am. That my Father doesn't know where I am. That Peter doesn't know where I am. That nobody knows where I am.

Because I can remember him. As long as his face is still imprinted in my mind, as long as I can hold a smile long enough to remember how he smiled back. The sound of his voice that I used to hear from dusk to dawn.

I can't think about him too often, though. Because that's when my tears begin to seep down my cheeks and inevitably soak my clothing, with no way to wipe them away or muffle the sobs.

A deep breath and a stomp of my left foot on top of my right is all it takes for me to blink myself back to reality.

When I first got here I promised myself I wouldn't think about anyone for too thing, for my mental state's sake. But it's hard when you're trying your best to stay positive while at the same time completely convinced that this is the place I will die.

I don't want them to find me. I know they're looking, I know the software they're using. I know they will know where I am in a couple of days. I can only hope they can grow a pair and tell Bucky he can't come. It's too dangerous for him. It's what HYDRA wants, and he knows that.

But I know enough about that man that he will never forgive himself if he doesn't come.

So these days leading up to their arrival are days I have to spend preparing myself for the worse – given they keep me alive until then.

I find it quite rude that they've chained me back onto a chair. This one isn't even comfortable.

I just feel like it's more work for them. It's one thing having to escort me to the bathroom every time I need to use the toilet but having to unchain every bind? What a waste of time they could use to continue being dumbasses.

I hope Rumlow's leg gets infected. I hope he needs it amputated. I hope he's in pain right now. I hope he's suffering even a mere sliver of what him and his men have put me through over the past 3 weeks.

I've lost a tremendous amount of weight, and the affect that sunlight deprivation has had on my strength is maddening. So shooting Rumlow was the best remedy to that. To help me feel more alive.

Even if it meant losing my movement privileges.

Hopefully I only have to deal with this a couple more days.

im going ✈️ to work and felt like updating