The Deep, The Dark || III
Pairing: Winter Soldier!Bucky x Reader
Summary: The Asset has been given a gift for his good work. But will he be able to do what needs to be done in order to keep her?
Warnings: Part of a DARK series though itâs getting lighter, mentions of experimentation, starvation, Hydra, light pet play (puppy nickname)
Word Count: 3k
Authors Note: This series is in association with @sgt-seabass and a continuation of her oneshot of the same title. Iâm really excited for this series and have so many thoughts on where it could go! Send a message if you would like to be added to a tag list.
Series Masterlist
A door slamming open pulled you out of your deep sleep, curled up against the Assetâs warm body. Your body was between his and the wall, his way of keeping you safe because if someone were to take you, they would have to go through him first. This time, they werenât taking you.
Asset was ordered out of his room with the door quickly shutting behind him. You knew better than to try and run after him, so you scooted across the small bed and laid where he had been to try and soak up the warmth left behind.
It had been a week since you were given to the man and days seemed to play out the same. You would be either taken in for some experiment or stuck in the room while Asset was taken, much like today. On the days he was gone, you were back to your half eaten apple meals or slop that looked less than appetizing. But when he was there, he made sure to share half of everything with you. You couldnât remember the last time you had any warm meat until this week, where they gave him chicken. It wasnât cold, it wasnât nibbled on. You liked the days he was there.
There werenât many conversations shared between you and the Asset. He knew English, but neither of you had held a conversation with anyone inâŚwell for you it had been years.
You were abandoned when you were three, and had never lived in a steady home. Instead of being cared for, you were just a check from the state so the ones who took you in could have money. The longest you stayed in a place was two years, and at the end of it you left. Sixteen, you left the house and decided to try to find your own way without knowing much about the world and some cash you stole in your pocket. A month out, you were picked up by someone who claimed they were an agent who could give you a better life than living in an abandoned building. An agent for who? You didnât know until you showed up at a compound that certainly didnât give you what they promised. Turns out the abandoned building was a safe house for something much darker.
That was eleven years ago. Eleven long years. You only knew it was eleven years because Hydra did yearly assessments to gauge how your body was handling everything. The last one you figured to be about two months ago. Maybe three? No, no, two.
Your body had seemingly become something you didnât recognize when you passed by a reflective surface. You didnât know who the woman in the reflection was. She looked like she didnât have any life behind her eyes, she looked sick and scared. Growing up you had a full face, but now you had hardly anything to you. What you wouldnât give for more than half a sandwich and a bite of potatoes.
The day was spent inside the room, curled up on the bed because no one came to take you away.
Nor the next day.
Or the next.
Three days you spent worried in that room. No food, no Asset, no one taking you to any sort of lab to test things on you. That was the scariest thing of all. The only thing you had was water, from a small little sink with a shattered mirror in front of it and a toilet beside it. Had they forgotten about you in there? Where was the Asset? Anytime they took him away, he was back within a day.
Had you become so broken that you missed someone who had marked your skin and gave you the slightest bit of care?
Apparently so. On the fourth day, thatâs when you were finally found by the men again.
âLooks like the Asset failed. Time to show him what running does,â a dark haired man spoke. Not the same one you were used to. This one had no beard and less of a scratchy voice. You had seen this one only once.
He threw clothes onto the bed and a pair of shoes that looked like they had seen better days, ordering you to change. He didnât leave, but you learned you didnât deserve privacy. As quickly as you could given you had no sustenance for days, you took off the dirty top and replaced it with one that was surprisingly clean. Same with the pants. They had a drawstring that you managed to tie so they didnât fall off of your frail frame.
You hadnât worn shoes in eleven years, but muscle memory remembered how to tie them. They were a size too big but you wouldnât complain.
Once you were dressed, you were dragged out of the room and started to head down a forbidden hallway. When you were first taken in, you stepped foot through it but was told never to think about going through it again. At the end, the door to freedom. Freedom you would never find.
Pushing the door open, the man led you outside into the drizzly, dreary day. When was the last time you felt rain on your skin? Or the sun that was struggling to peek through the clouds. Or the grass beneath your feet? It seemed to be early fall, if you had to guess. Glancing behind you, the building was huge. Just as you remembered it.
But why were you being taken away?
You were pushed into a four door truck, stuck in the middle between two other guards. Dark haired man sat up front with another beside him. Picking up his phone, he read something.
âRumlow made it through. Burns everywhere though,â he groaned. Starting the truck, he headed off toâŚwell wherever you were headed.
Only one man spoke the whole time you were in there. Grabbing a band from his pocket, he handed it back to you. âFix your hair.â
Furrowing your brow, you can only imagine what state your hair was in. You werenât given combs or brushes, so the only way you could keep your hair from being tangled was with your fingers. You didnât wash your hair in the sink of the cell, not wanting to risk getting sick again like it happened often before. They wouldnât allow you warm showers.
Putting your hair up into a ponytail, you rested your hands in your lap and tried to catch glances of the outside world. There was only a stop made to get gas, but there was no chance of you slipping out because of the men on either side of you. Not that you were even sure your legs could run that fast.
You gauged by the time on the dash that you were in the truck about four hours by the time they stopped and filed out. They got you out and one kept his hand on your shoulder, as if a warning not to try anything stupid.
The building before you read Ideal Federal Savings Bank, though it looked to be abandoned. You assumed that was the front they were using for it anyways. You didnât know much about Hydra, only that they donât deal in legitimate business. And you would never trust them with any money.
Stepping inside, you followed the guards down the halls into what looked like some kind of vault. There were little boxes placed along the walls. In the corner of the room sat a machine. A seat with metal pieces suspended in the air. What it was used for, you werenât sure you would ever know. Nor did you ever want to take a seat in it.
âAny leads?â One man said.
Another shook his head. âRumlow is being checked out. Not many others managed to survive. Building was shattered and the helicarriers were compromised. Asset isnât responding. Pretty sure he ran.â
He left? He left you with these men?
One turned towards you and shoved you into the chair without warning. âI have an idea on what to do with the bitch,â he sneered. You looked up at the machine above your head and shivered at the thought of what it could have been used for.
âNah, we need to keep her alive and find him, then I say a little face to face execution. He disobeyed, he loses his incentive,â a blonde said before leaning down in front of you to stare into your eyes. âLooks like you werenât a good enough gift to keep him from leaving. Stay here,â he ordered before the four of them stepped out and locked the barrier behind them.
In a vault, there was no use in trying to find a way out. Only way in and out was behind that thick door. You moved off of the machine and instead sat on one of the smaller rolling chairs you faintly remember from a doctors office. There were screens on each side of the machine, wires connected to all three parts. Why were you brought here? This place must have to do with Asset. WasâŚhe put in that chair?
You sat down there for what you could assume was maybe an hour? Then again, minutes alone felt like days and you had lost all sense of time after about the first month being taken. You used to mark little tallyâs on the wall of your holding cell, but once they started experimenting on you, you werenât sure how long you were stuck asleep or awake pinned to a table with needles in your arm.
Wiggling your toes in the shoes that felt foreign to your feet, you heard a chunk of metal near the door, as if the vault lock was opened. There were three barred doors and a much larger, thicker steel door. The first two barred doors were open, the third was locked so you didnât try to escape. Turning towards the door and pushing the chair behind the large machine in an attempt to shield yourself, thatâs when you saw him.
Asset busted his way through the barred door and walked in with his gun raised, as if expecting more of the Hydra guards. You peeled your head around the edge of the machine and his gun twisted, trained on your frame.
It hit him. Puppy. Immediately he lowered his gun but didnât drop it completely.
âPuppy, itâs okay,â he spoke, reaching a hand out towards you.
Slowly you stood and walked around the machine, watching him. He looked different. The same, but different. He wore different clothes than the black tactical pants and vest. A jacket, a hat, and even a pair of blue jeans. There was something in his eye, like he wasnât void of all emotion. Even when the two of you laid in bed and he held you, it felt as though he was just a hollow shell of something that used to be. Even the guards who were assholes to the both of you had more emotion.
Once you were close enough, you wrapped your arms around him as he held you a bit tighter.
âWeâre leaving,â he whispered. Glancing up, you furrowed your brow with a questioning gaze. âIâll explain later. We need to leave now because more will come.â
When was he able to talk like that? You were used to broken sentences, just words without anything else needing to be added. Instead of asking him, you nodded. Using your voice wasnât your best quality, it hadnât been in years unless you were begging for the pain to stop from the experiments.
Asset led you outside to a silver car, completely different than the black trucks and SUVâs Hydra had. Asset was running and wasnât going to make it obvious. Stepping into the passenger side, you looked around to find there was no key. Asset leaned in below the wheel and tapped a few wires together which somehow made the car start. Hotwire, if you recalled from your younger years. So much of what you grew up learning had been forgotten, or at least stored somewhere in your mind so the pain and suffering couldnât touch it.
The two of you drove in silence for a while, weaving through cars while the radio quietly played something youâve never heard. You were the first to speak.
âAsset, where will we go?â
He grit his teeth, almost wincing. âDonât call me that.â
Frowning, you looked down at your lap. âIâm sorry,â you whispered.
He glanced over to you, seeing how you fiddled with your fingers. âI think..â he blew out a soft breath. âI think my name is Bucky.â
It was an odd name, something you never expected. It certainly wasnât one you remembered hearing growing up but for some reason, it fit him.
âBucky,â you tasted the name on your tongue. It was nice. Nicer than Asset. âWhere will we go?â
âI have a stop to make. I keepâŚâ he paused. âI keep remembering things. I donât know if theyâre memories or just dreams. Weâre going to the Smithsonian Institute. A lot has happened in the last four days.â
You remembered the name of that place. Learning about it in school, how it was a museum of sorts. But you lived farther away from it. Wait, were you in D.C.? Somehow you missed the signs on your way in, though you were more focused on the men sitting around you and if you made one wrong move it was all over for you.
Pulling up to the institute, Bucky parked the car and leaned into the backseat for a moment before setting a hat and a jacket on your lap. You tilted your head before he noticed the confusion on your face.
âLess way of someone noticing you. Stay close and donât talk to anyone, okay?â He spoke, but the way he gave you an order was softer than any order you had been given over the course of eleven years.
You slid the jacket on first, which was a couple of sizes too big. Then the hat, which was a navy blue without any design. Was he that sure that he was going to find you that he brought extra, or was it for him so he didnât look the same everywhere he went?
Stepping out, you quickly rounded the car and moved to his side. Without a word, Bucky took your hand and kept you close. You were surprised to find that it didnât cost anything to get in, which you were thankful for. Less people to talk to. There were people of all ages walking around, from children on school field trips to adults and older people exploring the exhibits for their own curiosity. Your younger self would be skipping around through the exhibits with a childlike wonder, but now you didnât want to leave the side of the man who saved you.
Should you trust him? You werenât completely sure just yet but he was the only one who treated you with kindness.
Bucky seemed to know where he was going as he walked through, leading the two of you while your eyes wandered around. For spending ten years in a single building, there was so much to take in. Everything had changed. From clothing to phones. When did people stop using flip phones and why was everything so buttonless?
Stepping onto an escalator, you caught a glimpse of a large banner. In large letters it read CAPTAIN AMERICA with the photo of a man in a suit. Wait, you remember learning about him in school, right? Some guy who helped fight in a war. You really wished you had paid attention moreâŚor that the experiments hadnât muddled your brain so much. Maybe you did know more but just canât remember.
Bucky led you through the start of the exhibit, various statues and photos plastered everywhere.
âWhat are we doing here?â You asked quietly, not realizing all that had gone on within the last four days of being stuck in that room. God, you were starving.
Bucky didnât answer you, he just slightly squeezed your hand and moved you towards a part with some sort of glass stand with writing etched into it. A Fallen Comrade read at the top, but thatâs not what really caught your eye.
The photo of the man standing beside you did. Younger, shorter hair and with a clean face. Your eyes widened for a moment, glancing between him and the photo before reading what was posted beside the photo.
James Buchanan âBuckyâ Barnes
Born in 1916, Barnes grew up the oldest child of four. An excellent athlete who also excelled in the classroom, Barnes enlisted in the Army shortly after the attack on Pearl Harbor. After winter training at Camp McCoy, Wisconsin, Barnes and the rest of the 107th shipped out to the Italian front. Captured by Hydra troops later that fall, Barnes endured long periods of isolation, depravation and torture. But his will was strong. In an ironic twist of fate, his prison camp was liberated by none other than his childhood friend, Steve Rogers, Now Captain America.
Reunited, Barnes and Rogers led Captain America's newly formed-unit, The Howling Commandos, Barnes' marksmanship was invaluable as Rogers and his team destroyed Hydra bases and distupted Nazi troop movements throughout the European Theater.
You were stunned, to say the least. How was that even possible? The way the exhibit was set up, it seemed Captain America was still alive? And if all of that was trueâŚhow was Bucky still here? Shouldnât both of them be in their nineties? This plaque is a remembrance for someone who died in 1944. Bucky looked like he could be in his early thirties.
Bucky glanced over at you with a worried expression while yours was one of confusion.
Who was this man?
