After being held captive in a HYDRA facility for years, (Y/N) has all but forgotten everything about herself; knowing only that which is necessary for her own survival. After being rescued by the Avengers, she struggles to adapt to a (mostly) regular life once again, and realises there may have been more to life she was missing out on than previously thought.
Fandom: Avengers (post-IW and EG but with a happy ending where no one dies)
Pairings: (eventual) Bucky x fem!reader, (eventual) platonic!avengers x fem!reader
Warnings: violence, blood, pain, mentions of torture, implications of self harm, imprisonment, panic attacks, strong language, basically every bad thing, eventual NSFW, slow burn, ANGST, bad writing, probably fluff later, literally everything idk
A/N: first chapter!! thank you guys so much for all the support you’ve already given me, I can't tell you just how much it means to me! a reminder that this is literally the first fic I've ever written so don’t expect it to be fantastic or anything, any feedback or constructive criticism is very much appreciated! Shoot me a message if you wanted to be added to (or removed from) the tag list and I'll add you for the next part :)
Thank you for reading! Iz xx
You could hear footsteps.
You knew they were yours. You knew you were walking, because you could hear your own footsteps. You knew where you were - the metallic stench of the facility stung your nose, working it’s way into your head and making your eyes water. You blinked away the fog which disappeared as suddenly as it had come on, snapping yourself back to the present. Zoning out wasn't a rarity with you - living in your own head made it all a hell of a lot easier. In doing so you also blinked away the droplets which formed in the corner of your eyes, barely noticing the mild discomfort - it was just a small nagging in the back of your head, one you couldn’t bring yourself to mind.
There wasn’t much more that you knew, and so you tried to keep a mental note of what you did know. One of those things was you knew that the list was getting smaller. You also knew that you didn’t know the time, whether it was day or night, didn’t know the date, or the year, or the name of the guard walking directly behind you (you could tell he was there because there was another set of footsteps not quite matching yours), or if you’ll be able to eat in the foreseeable future. ‘Foreseeable’ being irony.
The rhythmic clank, clank, clank of the chain on your legs kept you focused as you walked. You did know it would be a while before you could walk again, and you revelled in the delicious ache deep in the muscles as you stretched each leg as far as it would willingly go. The pain from this was a comfortable, familiar pain. The burning at your joints became a constant - the only one you could depend on. It kept you grounded - whatever was happening, you knew the burning would still be there.
A sudden jerk to the chain on your arm and you were halted abruptly, your weight on one foot as the other hovered mid-step. Another, and you were turning to your right; a large metal door now looming above you. You knew that this was your Room.
The keypad next to the door lit up when you were stood opposite it, the individual keys glowing with a florescent blue light so harsh that you had to force yourself not to look away or blink.
You couldn’t show weakness.
It wasn’t as if you could tear your gaze away, though - the colour always filled you with an alien emotion, one you couldn’t place if you tried (and you had, for hours, with nothing else to do after being left in the Room). It was almost a memory from another time, another life… which was ridiculous, right?
The guard punched a combination in - different to the last time - and the mocking blue turned to a cruel green. He reached around you to twist the doorknob which had appeared after the light changed, his arm brushing your side for a split second too long. He was new. With a creak, the door swung open and you were shoved inside, stumbling unceremoniously before managing to righten yourself. A faint click echoed around the room and blood rushed back into your hands, tingling, as the chains fell at your feet. You turned now to face the man, eyes angled downwards, taking two measured steps backwards until your spine hit the wall. You held your hands out to either side, not even bothering to raise your head to see the power-hungry smirk the guard would have on his face now. Cold rushed through your stomach as you felt the harsh metal encase your fist again, this time holding it against the wall. You were used to this - didn’t know anything else - yet a small part of you, hidden in the far recesses of your mind, remained terrified, and it threatened to grow each time you heard the metal snap. You were reminded of this as your other hand faced the same doom, and you were left to swallow the feeling before it could establish itself into something more.
You. couldn’t. show. weakness.
Your ankles were given the same treatment, and it wasn’t long before the man reached to push your shirt up, the concrete wall behind you grazing scarred skin as your only layer of protection was withdrawn. The friendly burn from your limbs was now drowned out by the harsher, newer burn enveloping your torso - the cool metal casing pressing you further into the wall, your own personal, hidden coffin. Your shirt was yanked messily back down over the top, hiding the miniature prison from view, and you had to choke back a whimper when you remembered what would be coming next. The fear always became almost impossible to ignore by this point. The guard noticed your gulp, and the way your eyes screwed shut, and he tilted his thin mouth into an evil grin once again as he drew himself to his full height (which, you noted, was not very high). He opened his mouth to speak, a foul stench reaching your senses nearly making you gag, but was interrupted by an echoing yell and a crash from somewhere in the facility. You could feel old scars on your back reopen as your subsequent flinch made you press yourself into the wall far as possible (not very far). He closed his mouth (to your nose’s relief) and turned his head with a roll of his eyes to glance out the open door behind him, muttering under his breath something about needing a better defence system. You, however, were not paying attention to anything he said and were too busy trying to frantically figure out the source of the noise, your heartbeat rising unsteadily as your mind raced at increasing speeds, each rise and fall of your chest bringing a fresh rush of pain as more skin was pressed against the metal corset. You had barely noticed when the guard turned back around, pushing greasy hair back from his face, and was now reaching for the Mask.
You didn’t - couldn’t - react as he placed it over your head, the metal stinging where it rested on the crown of your head and bruised cheek bones, and instead focused on pacing your breaths. Your vision was now obscured by small meal bars running over your eyes, and you bared your teeth as you made out the guard reaching up to pat the side of your cheek, not being able to feel it due to the thick leather. Another crash echoed through the halls - closer this time than the last, and a mix of fear and fury finally rushed through your veins. Upon hearing it, the guard’s gaze hardened, and he placed his face directly opposite yours, barking commands and reiterating orders of what to do in an emergency, lest you had forgotten. You, however, were still not listening - couldn’t even hear him over the rushing sound in your ears - and instead focused on bringing your head, heavy mask and all, down onto his with as much strength you could muster. He hadn’t put your neck harness on yet, and now he was unconscious on the floor.
Fear flooded through your system, unchallenged by the retreating rage. Oh god, what had you done? You now noticed, though your vision was still severely limited, that the alarms had sounded and every room was swallowed in a pulsating red, one which invaded your mind and chased out any emotion - any thought - other than pure terror. The door to The Room still was wide open, and the guard you had dropped lay in full view of the corridor, just waiting for someone to discover. This time you allowed the whimper to escape your throat as you desperately wished that the punishment this time would be death… you just couldn’t face the testing any longer. A second muffled cry joined the first as you allowed yourself to dwell on the possibility that no one would find out - no one would pass you and see that you were still trapped in the room, starving and rotting away into nothing but the shell that your mind had already become.
Oooooh I wonder who’s about to show up? ;) I promise things will actually start happening in the next part sksksk I’m yelling it’s so dark, I’m so sorry! well there you have it folks, part one! I've no idea when part 2 will be up I'm afraid, it shouldn't be long though. I’m not 100% happy with this but I think the more I look over it the more annoyed I'll be with it, so may as well just post it and get it out of the way! Once again thank you so much for the support and any constructive criticism / feedback is always welcome! I hope you enjoyed :)
p.s. sorry if your tag didn't work! I'm working to fix it :)
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