Marvel Imagines

     Warning: contains some spoilers for Captain America: Civil War. Not that many, just a couple.

     "Five minutes, Agent Y/N." The guard intoned dully, obviously bored. He turned away to chat with his fellow guard as soon as you were inside the room, metal doors firmly sliding shut.

     However, inside, this was what you were counting on. You kept your back to the one way glass at all times, approaching the figure crouched in the corner.

     "Bucky?" you whispered, as gentle ever. His name had been the only part of himself that he had been able to tell you before HYDRA did those monstrous things to him.

     "Y/N?" Bucky came out of the corner, the feral growl melting away as his eyes lit up with recognition. It was a wonder he could manage even that, you thought bitterly. After the especially long hours of memory washing you'd been ordered to do when he'd slipped up on his previous mission.

     His screams still echoed in your ears.

     You offered a sad smile. "Yeah, it's me."

     You sat down on the edge of his mattress, eyes planted to the ground as he cautiously took a seat beside you, metal arm cool to the touch.

     However, the telltale dents and scratches on the knuckles didn't escape your notice, nor did the freshly made scars on his other human hand as well as his face. A quick survey around the small, cramped cell revealed new indents on the walls, not deep enough to cause any damage, but enough to tell you that he'd been attempting to remember again, and had clearly paid the price dearly by guards who beat him up when he begged them for information.

     A sudden, fierce thought came blazing into your mind again. It was one that you'd had thousands of times before, and even attempted, but it had always ended in a failure. A miserable failure that led to even more weeks of torture.

     No more of this, you thought. No more.

     "Bucky," you said suddenly, lowly, "we're going to go out tonight."

     He turned to you, confused. "But I don't have a mission."

     You forced out a small smile. "It's a secret one, so you mustn't tell anyone else about it, alright?"

     His eyes remained muddled with bewilderment, but he nodded anyways, signifying his agreement.

     You let out a deep, long breath. "Just wait in here, and I'll come and get you. Then we can go out." You clenched his hand tightly, forcing more deep breaths. "Do you understand?"

      Bucky offered you a small, genuine smile. "Yes, Y/N."

     Now you truly despised what you needed to do, but the guards were surely getting impatient, and any suspicious behavior could result in a death sentence.

     "Bucky, I'm sorry, but we have to do the machine again." You say through gritted teeth. God, could your self-hatred increase any more?

     But Bucky only nods compliantly, making no move to struggle as he watches you strap his arms down, taking special care with his metal arm. He shoves the mouthpiece between his teeth like it's second nature, and that would break your heart, except you don't quite think you still have one.

     "Now, this isn't going to hurt too much, but you have to pretend like it is, okay?" You said quietly, lest the guards pick up on your mouth moving.

     Bucky nods. You slowly turn the dials to as low as you possibly can without arousing suspicion, and he starts screaming on cue, pained, tortured shouts ripping themselves from his ragged throat.

     You turn away, eyes prickling with tears.

     The night air is cool as you pad silently down the hallway, hoping against hope that you don't run into any night patrol guards.

     You've just about made it to Bucky's cell when a voice stops you, freezing your muscles.

     "Where are you going, Agent Y/N?"

     You whirl around to see Agent Travis, one of the more recent recruits, a smirk plastered onto his smug face.

     You let out a deep breath. "To check up on the Winter Soldier, Agent Travis." You reply coolly, crossing your arms. "He was showing signs of remembrance earlier, and I decided another hour of memory wiping would be necessary."

     His eyes remained glued onto you. "Well, then, by all means, be on your way, Agent Y/N."

     You nodded stiffly to turn around, but he spoke up again. "Hail HYDRA."

     Hatred coursed through your veins as you forced the all too familiar salute, the repulsive words threatening to make you throw up. "Hail HYDRA."

     The last time, you swore silently. The last time those words would ever come out of your mouth.

     "Bucky, wake up." You whispered harshly, hand on his shoulder.

     His eyes flew open in an instant, hand wrapping around your throat momentarily before he realized who you were.

     Unfazed, you gestured. "Come on!"

     Bucky nodded vigorously, trailing you quietly as you led him out of his cell, tapping on the monitor quickly, erasing the last five minutes of the footage in his cell.

     The hallways were long and winding, and every sound that either of you made sent panic coursing through your veins, heart thumping erratically.

     But you had made it; the exit was in sight. Just a few more steps and you'd be free, on your way to the safest place you knew with a ride from someone who owed you a debt.

     "Not so fast, Agent Y/N."

     Agent Travis was standing behind you, a squad of HYDRA soldiers in tow. His smug smirk only widened as he saw you two, sneaking out in the middle of the night.

     "Well, well, well. What do we have here?" He crooned, grinning maliciously as he approached, only to be stopped by a furious Bucky.

     "Don't touch her," he growled.

     Agent Travis only laughed. "Soldiers, hold him back."

     Instantly, five men in uniform surrounded Bucky, restraining his limbs. He thrashed and fought, but these were specially trained soldiers, made to hold back the Winter Soldier himself.

     "You can't kill him!" You shouted, rushing forward to help Bucky. Agent Travis only sneered as he threw you back, slamming you into the wall.

     "Of course not." He agreed, watching as you struggled to your feet. "He's far too valuable. But you, Agent Y/N, we can. You're replaceable."

     A momentary wave of fear coursed through you, but your resolve to save Bucky won out. "Bucky!" You screamed, fighting against two soldiers who were now holding your arms down.

     "No, we can't kill him." Agent Travis continued, as though he hadn't heard anything. "But I think this will be a nice opportunity to remind the Winter Soldier who's in command, no?"

     He pulled out a red notebook,  a star pattern on the front cover.

     And with that, he began to read the damning words inside.

     "Longing."

     Bucky began to struggle even more vigorously once the realization hit, gasping with effort as his mind clashed against body, and you shouted.

     "Cover your ears, Bucky! Don't listen to it!"

     "Rusted."

     Bucky was now thrashing with pain as the mind control took hold within him.

     "Seventeen."

     He was writhing now, in agony, as his eyes rolled back, his metal arm clenching.

     "Daybreak."

     "Bucky..." you whispered, all the fight drained out of you, as you watched the scene playing out with horror.

     "Furnace."

     "Please!" you sobbed, "Please! He can't take anymore of it; he'll break!"

     Agent Travis gave a small, barking laugh. "He already has."

     "Nine."

     "Bucky, fight against it!" you yelled desperately, throwing yourself towards him, only to be jerked back by the guards.

     "Benign."

     It was a wonder the words could even be heard over Bucky's screams of torture.

     "Homecoming."

     "Bucky," you wept, "I'm sorry." What pitiful last words.

     "One."

     With a crazed grin, Agent Travis read out the last word, meeting your eyes squarely.

     "Freight car."

     There was a moment of terrifying silence as Bucky's screams abruptly cut short, the only sound his panting breaths.

     "Bucky?" You dared to whisper.

     He slowly rose, the soldiers now withdrawing.

     "Ready to comply."

     Agent Travis simply smiled, stepping back to clear his path to you. "Kill her."

     Sobs wracked your body as the man you had once called Bucky drew closer, metal arm enclosing your neck.

     "Bucky," You whispered quietly, "I'm so sorry."