Classified || Bucky Barnes

Chapter 4

Only one day after Alexander Pierce's unannounced arrival and extended invitation, a few of his men returned to whisk Marina away so that their doctors could get a look at her. There, she was subjected to more poking, prodding, and testing than she would ever have thought possible. It had to be done in order to fix her; they couldn't find a solution without knowing what the issue was to begin with. But that didn't make it any less miserable. It was odd, being studied so intently that just about everything that made her... her was out on display for strangers. 

No line was left uncrossed in their overly thorough examination. She'd been through just about every scan in the medical books. Her arms were sore from being repeatedly jabbed with needles. Bruises littered her skin from where they rammed tools against her joints to test her reflexes. Eyesight and hearing weren't something she thought would be relevant to their studies, but they tested her on both senses regardless. A day or two into her stay they drew a bone marrow sample from her hip, which still ached with her every move. 

Pierce's doctors and scientists scanned over her bloodwork and cells restlessly day in and day out. She could always pinpoint the moment they stumbled across an abnormality by their furrowed brows and perplexed expressions. But no conclusive results were ever passed on to her.

In addition to physical examination, they prodded her memory for more information about the incident itself. A bit of it was still fuzzy when she reflected back, but Marina relayed anything she could remember. They pressed on about seemingly irrelevant details like the weather, the time, even what she'd eaten in the week preceding the "effect triggering event."

She told them about the sparsely rusted bomb casing with Stark Industries plastered across its label. Pierce got a few of his men to look deeper into Stark weaponry. Tony Stark himself put an end to the company's weapon manufacturing division after finding out his business partner had been selling to terrorist organizations. But there wasn't much that could be done about the weapons bought while the division was still operating. It made sense as to how someone could have had the bomb in their arsenal. They'd just been waiting to use it. 

What Pierce's scientists feared was that it had been tampered with while tucked away in storage. They didn't directly voice their suspicions, but Marina had been studying them as well. She noted their almost frantic search for some explanation, time and time again coming back to the modification of added radiation for the intent of maximum casualties when the bomb went off. From what she could tell, she shouldn't be alive.

So when they finally sat her down after a few weeks of study, she found her leg bouncing anxiously as she chewed her bottom lip. Their words flew straight over her throbbing head while they compared visuals of her bloodwork to that of "a normal person." The images looked different, that much was obvious, but she didn't have the slightest idea of what she was looking for. One of the two doctors finally sighed and drummed his fingers along the edge of the iPad at the sight of her confusion.

"Can you give me the Spark Notes?" Marina huffed, leaning forward in her seat to brace herself.

 Any shred of positivity she'd scrounged up instantly faded when they glanced at one another to share a disconcerting look. She quickly learned that HYDRA wasn't light-hearted enough of an audience to appreciate humor, or decency for that matter. It was something she still hadn't grown used to- the constant somber state of everyone around her. Not a single person had maintained a casual conversation with another throughout the entirety of her stay. She tipped her face toward the concrete floor and kicked her legs lightly where they hung over the edge of the gurney. Her loose, gray scrubs squeaked faintly against the plastic.

"Sorry." There was a brief pause and then the clearing of a throat.

"Simply put," One of the doctors began, "the suspected radiation produced from the blast bonded with your cells to rewrite your genetic code." His tone was almost condescending, like he was dumbing down the explanation for a child.