Closed RP with [Punched-Hitler]

[make_it_hurt]

He woke up slowly. It was an unusual feeling, to wake to nothing more than his body's own sleep cycle, instead of being woken up by harsh hands and pain. He honestly hadn't been expecting to wake up, sure that he was dead, sure that the bullet they had put in his chest should have killed him.

Instead, Bucky Barnes woke up in a hospital bed, oxygen line hooked over his ears, the steady beeping and whirring of machinery all around him. Everything hurt - his broken ankle, the bruises on his legs from beatings, the lash marks over his back. It is nearly torture to breathe, his chest wrapped tightly in bandages. This wasn't the dark, dank cellar he had spent (as close as he could figure ) six or seven months in. He looked around, head tilting from side to side listlessly, looking for family or a nurse or something.

His attention was caught by his left arm - or, rather, what was left of it, which wasn't much.

Days into his capture they'd started cutting off his fingers, one at a time, and sending him to his mother - to the President - in an attempt to get her to give in to their demands.

Then they'd started working their way up his arm, more as punishment than anything, before infection had set in and they had kept cutting back and back and back in an attempt to keep their bargaining chip from dying.

The stump of his left arm was wrapped in neat cotton bandages and Bucky swallowed hard, lifting his other hand to his lips, feeling them quiver against his fingers.

He finally asked, voice trembling, "Mom?"

She had to be here. She had been there for him his entire life growing up, there every time he got sick, even when she was on the election trail. If she couldn't get to him, they would talk over the internet for as long as it took until he fell asleep.

Bucky looked around, digging his ragged nails into his lower lip. "Mom?" He shifted, trying to sit up, and was instantly caught by the mess of wires and tubing around him. He laid back, blinking back tears.

She came almost at a run, heels clacking, the door swinging shut behind her. "Bucky!" She nearly collapsed onto Bucky's bed, grabbing his hand in both of her own. "You're awake, thank god." She reached forward and ran her fingers through his hair and he was suddenly aware that it was long enough to touch his chin.

He smiled up at her, feeling the knot in his chest ease. Bucky sagged back against his pillows and sighed slightly, letting her rub her thumb over the back of his hand. "I missed you, Mom."

"I missed you, too. Here, are you comfortable? Do you need another pillow?" She let go of his hand and started to fuss with his blankets and pillows, adjusting them around him nervously.

"I'm fine. Tired, but fine." He closed his eyes for a long moment then asked, opening them again, "I'm really here, right?"

She nodded. "You're really here, Bucky." She folded her hand over his. "Get some rest, I'll be right here, okay?" She smiled and watched Bucky drift off again, body falling limp. But it wasn't the same sort of boneless as before, the unconsciousness after being brought in, after all the surgeries. It was the unconsciousness of somebody asleep of their own volition.

She looked up once she was sure Bucky was asleep and stood back up, placing his hand on his stomach. President Barnes crossed back over to the door and pulled it open. "I'm sorry, Captain. Maybe you should come in and we can continue our discussion?" She stepped back.

Bucky drifted awake for just a moment, long enough to see his mother across the room talking to somebody that looked vaguely familiar. Before Bucky could place the face, he was asleep again.

Comments

[punched_hitler]

Steve just drove - he actually was planning on taking the long way back, just to let Bucky have a little time to himself, someplace safe, where he couldn't possibly be assaulted or even approached by other people. He let silence fall until Bucky spoke up - then he glanced in the mirror at the two in the backseat, humming a little.

"Hm? No, Penny's a fine name. You name her whatever you like." He smiled, supportively, hoping Bucky could catch it in the mirror. He hadn't been to see Peggy in weeks - he'd been busy guarding Bucky, after all. That was a full time job. Maybe... he should see if he could get away, though. Just for an hour or two. Hell, maybe he could bring Bucky with, though he doubted Bucky would want to sit in the hallway of a nursing home while Steve visited one of the residents. "I guess once you choose a name, you just have to use it consistently, and she'll figure out it's hers, pretty quick. Then you can get her some tags."

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Bucky nodded and scritched behind Penny's ears. She slumped down in the seat, apparently relieved that Bucky had managed to relax and rested her head on his thigh. "Should make her a vet appointment, too." That was something he didn't want to do. But he would have to. Penny would need a vet, need vaccinations and stuff.

He was fine with taking the long way home, but by the time they pulled up, Bucky was breathing more deeply, trying to keep himself calm. He got out of the car, catching Penny's leash to keep her from tearing away.

Bucky's other two guards, the ones that had been left here for the expedition were waiting. One was immediately approaching. "Sir, the President wants to speak to you."

Bucky swallowed hard against the lump in his throat and nodded. "Alright. Would you have somebody take the bags to my room?" He gestured kind of towards the trunk.

It was time to face the music.

[punched_hitler]

Steve nodded, making a mental note - they could take care of that later, sure, but it would still be a good idea to get it done as soon as they had the chance.

He was glad to see (and hear) that Bucky was looking and breathing better by the time they returned to the White House. Of course, as soon as they got back, it was obvious the president already knew - not that Steve was overly surprised. He tossed one of the guards a sheepish smile, shrugged a little, and then handed over the keys so they could get the pet supplies. Then he stepped up behind Bucky, touching his shoulder. "I'm coming with you." As if it wasn't already obvious, but he wanted Bucky to know that he'd support the decision, even if the president wasn't happy about it. "I'm sure Penny will win your mom's heart in a minute."

[make_it_hurt]

Bucky nodded and started to walk. Penny followed along, bumping against Bucky's leg as they went.

Finally they entered his mother's office. She was sitting behind the desk, focused on the TV on the wall, paused on a screen of a TV program showing one of the photos the woman had taken in the dog food aisle.

Bucky hadn't seen himself much since he'd been kidnapped, hated looking at his body whether he was clothed or not.

He looked like a drug addict. Thin, pale, eyes sunken into his skull. His hair was a mess, his clothes too big for his frame. He swallowed and turned his face away. He looked at his mother, which might have been a mistake.

She stood and turned off the TV. "You went out and got a dog then got spotted by the press on purpose, didn't you? So I couldn't take it away."

Bucky nodded, petting Penny. "Yeah, Mom, I... There's a lot of research being done. The effect of pets, dogs, on... trauma survivors. I swear she's helping already. I almost had a panic attack and she calmed me down. Please don't be mad." He bowed his head and clung to the leash, hoping she wouldn't make him take Penny back.

Instead, she approached and crouched down, putting herself on the puppy's level. "You could have asked me, Bucky."

"I knew you wouldn't let me."

She sighed and scratched Penny under the chin then stood, wrapping her arms around Bucky's shoulders. "You can keep her. I was going to look into getting you a therapy dog, but it seems you did it yourself. But obedience lessons. And you'll be taking her to go to the bathroom and for walks. Not anybody else."

Bucky nodded and smiled weakly. "Thanks, Mom."

"You're welcome. Now, if you would give me a few moments alone with Captain Rogers..."

Nodding again, Bucky headed for the door and waited outside. He sank down onto the floor and curled his arms around Penny's neck, clinging to her.

[punched_hitler]

Steve followed Bucky into the president's office, then hung back by the door. Oh, it wasn't that he didn't support Bucky, but he sort of figured this was something he shouldn't get in the middle of until or unless Bucky needed him. And Bucky seemed to be doing just fine on his own, telling his mother how he'd researched the idea, how he thought it would help. Honestly Steve was pretty proud of him, and he didn't want to step in on that, either.

He couldn't help but smile, though, when the president agreed to the dog, so long as Bucky trained her. He didn't think that would be a problem - in fact, he figured they might be inseparable. That could be a good thing.

Although he wasn't sure it was a good thing when the president mentioned she wanted to talk to him. Alone. Not that he wouldn't defend Bucky's choice. He gave Bucky's arm a pat as he and Penny passed, then stepped a little more into the office as the door closed behind Bucky. "Ma'am," he started. "I know I should have run it by you first, but I really thought it would do him some good. She'll do him some good."

[make_it_hurt]

She sighed and waited until the door shut to turn back on the tv. "Things like this? I don't care what Bucky says, I don't want it happening. He might think he looks okay, but we both know he's panicking here. What Bucky doesn't need is a panic attack making it on international news. You see press, you send them away, understand?"

The President leaned back against her desk then turned and reached for a file folder. Once Steve responded, she opened the folder and passed it to Steve. The folder was thick with pictures. Of Bucky. Bucky crouched on the floor, blindfolded, obviously just hours after being kidnapped. The one behind that was Bucky shirtless, covered in bruises and cuts, barefoot.

It went on and on, Bucky getting more and more ragged, missing more fingers then more of his arm, until the photos became Bucky curled up on a concrete floor, naked, unwashed and pale and scrawny, every bone visible. Still blindfolded, his right ankle obviously snapped, legs streaked with blood and worse.

"Once a week I got a photo of him. The first few came with fingers. Sometimes they also sent videos." She let out a shuddering breath. "Some of them were also sent to the press. The worst of them. None of the videos, thank god. But if these or those were to get out. It would destroy Bucky. I know my son, Captain, and he couldn't survive that a second time. Do whatever you have to do to keep him from seeing this. If it means getting violent with some members of the press... So be it."

[punched_hitler]

Steve had seen a lot, in the Army. And he'd seen a lot in the history books - the things he'd missed, those camps they'd found in Europe, and plenty of other atrocities since.

Still, nothing quite hit home like seeing that file and all the pictures in it. Oh, he'd been briefed, he knew what had happened to Bucky, and he'd obviously seen the end result. But he hadn't seen it happen. Not like this. And he felt more and more sick to his stomach, angry, as the pictures kept coming.

He glanced up at the president, clearly a mix of concerned, angry, and determined, when she told him that Bucky couldn't handle this again. When she told him that if he had to get violent, then he had leave to do so. He wasn't stupid - he knew that if he got violent with any press, it'd be his reputation on the line, of course, and not the president's. But... he was here to serve the president. And Bucky. His reputation didn't matter. "Yes, ma'am," he said, and he meant it. He didn't relish the idea. But he meant it.

He paused. "But I can't - shouldn't - stop him from going out in public. Hiding him away isn't going to help, either. I know you know that."

[make_it_hurt]

She nodded. "I know. Just... keep him safe. If it starts getting to the point with the press where it isn't okay for him to go out in public, I'll talk with him." She took the folder back from Steve and flipped back to the first photo. She stared at it for several moments then closed the folder and set it behind her on the desk. Then she stood. "That's all I had to discuss with you, Steve, thank you."

She sat behind her desk again and started tapping away at her laptop, face unreadable.

[punched_hitler]

"I will. I promise." Bucky was quickly becoming more than a mission, to Steve. He was becoming someone he truly wanted to protect, to befriend. And he would do what it took to see that he was safe.

He watched the president for a moment more, but she was clearly done. He couldn't tell what she was thinking, either. He saluted, whether she was paying attention to him or not, and headed out of the office, closing the door carefully behind him and looking around to see if Bucky was out here, of if he'd have to track him down.

[make_it_hurt]

Bucky was waiting in the hallway for Steve, Penny sitting at his side, head resting on his thigh. "You get dressed down too?" He grinned and straightened. "Let's get back to my room. They should have all the bags now, we can get her settled in."

He started to walk, not sure if he wanted to know what his mother had been talking to Steve about.

The agents were just finishing bringing in the last of the bags from the petstore, piling them near the door.

It brought an unexpected stab of fear, to see somebody else in his room. He'd been refusing to let the cleaning staff in, preferring to pick up his room itself. His room was his safe place, and just seeing people in there was enough to get his heart beating faster, blood draining from his face.

They were already retreating and Bucky shoved in way in past them. Aside from the bags piled in front of his dresser, and the kennel leaned up against the wall, nothing else had changed. Bucky sighed in relief and sat on the edge of his bed. He unclipped Penny's leash once the door was closed and started dragging over bags.

[punched_hitler]

Steve grinned back, even if he was still feeling unsettled. He didn't want Bucky to see that, after all. "A little," he admitted - because he had been, in a way. "But I've still got the job." He nodded, following Bucky back to his room, where the last of his bags were being left. Even that seemed to make Bucky uncomfortable, because his demeanor changed completely. Steve frowned, closing the door behind the last of the agents, letting Bucky go through the bags, though he'd help out the instant he was asked for a hand.

"People really make you uncomfortable," he said quietly, slowly, not accusing, just observing. "But you're okay with me." Was it just because Bucky had idolized Captain America? Was it because Steve had been there since the moment he'd really woken up? Or was it something else? He didn't know, but if he could find out, maybe he could help.

[make_it_hurt]

Bucky paused when Steve spoke. He looked down at his lap, at the bag of tennis balls in his hand. "I guess..." He looked up for a moment then back down. "I guess you haven't let me down, yet."

He shrugged then stood, going to his desk. He came up with a pair of scissors and sat down again, pausing to scratch Penny behind the ears before starting to cut open the bag. He offered a tennis ball to her which she refused, and he moved on to the next thing in the bag, determined to get everything set up for Penny.

[punched_hitler]

Steve frowned a little at that. Well, that was some pressure. He knew that if it came down to protecting Bucky and staying on his side... he'd do the former over the latter. But he still didn't like the idea of letting him down. "I hope I never have to," he said quietly. "But I can't be the only person you're okay being around. I mean - eventually. I'm not rushing you to get better, that's not my place, and I don't think it's the answer, anyway. But," he moved closer, ready to help if Bucky needed it, but also ready to let Bucky take care of everything on his own, if he wanted to. "You need other people in your life, too. Not everyone's going to let you down."

[make_it_hurt]

Bucky tensed a little as Steve moved in closer, shrugging his left shoulder up slightly. But he kept his eyes on what he was doing, carefully freeing each of Penny's toys from the packaging or taking off the tags. He didn't speak for a long time, going through two more bags before he said, holding Penny's new harness in his hand, "It sure feels like it sometimes."

He did know that he couldn't shut himself away, that he had to go out and do things, but Bucky couldn't imagine doing that for a long time to come. Could he even go back to school in the fall? Could he do it? And what about college? He knew he had acceptance letters. He could go anywhere he wanted, study anything he wanted. But if just seeing a stranger was enough to set off a panic attack, how was he going to live his life?

Penny would help, but she couldn't keep him from being kidnapped. Could Steve, for that matter?

Bucky sighed, shoulders slumping, and pressed the back of his hand to the bridge of his nose. "I'm afraid of going outside. I'm afraid of people, sounds... I probably should be in therapy but I don't want to talk about what happened to me. I want to put it all behind me, but... I can't forget." He looked up at Steve, tears in his eyes. "I can't forget my arm, or when they shattered my ankle with a sledehammer, or almost cut through my achilles tendon... I can't forget the cuts and the burns and I'll never be able to."

He tipped sideways towards Steve, resting his head on the man's chest. Penny, who had watched with solemn brown eyes, finally moved in with a whine, shoving her nose under his hand. He started to pet her obediently, dropping the harness into his lap.

[punched_hitler]

Steve wasn't sure whether he should feel flattered or dismayed, at the idea that he was the only one who hadn't let Bucky down. He wasn't perfect, he knew that, given enough time, he'd find some way to let him down. Although he hoped it wasn't in terms of protection. Steve would do anything it took to keep Bucky safe, up to and including giving his life for that cause. But he also knew that SHIELD couldn't spare him forever. They'd said nothing about the duration of this assignment, and they hadn't made any moves to get him back. But someday, somewhere down the line... he knew he couldn't be Bucky's personal bodyguard for life.

Although he hoped that, when the time came to leave, he might still be able to stay Bucky's friend.

Steve had been through a war. He knew what it was like to see enemies - kidnappers, whichever - around every corner. He'd seen guys snap, and he'd seen guys get a handle on it. Bucky had been through a lot, personally, and he knew it would take time to bring him back from the edge. But Steve wasn't a therapist, and he didn't know how to do it. Especially if Bucky didn't want to talk to one.

"Hey," Steve said, a lot more gently; one arm closed carefully around Bucky, because while he knew Bucky trusted him, he still didn't want to make him feel confined or to trigger another panic attack. "You'll get through this. I just... don't want you to have to do it alone." He paused, pulling Bucky a little closer. "You don't have to talk about it. But you do have to deal with it. You have to work yourself away from it, or it's just going to keep haunting you. Trust me. I know."

For a very long time after they'd woken him up, Steve had barely been able to shower. He hadn't been able to take a bath. And he definitely hadn't been able to go swimming. Every time he got in any kind of water, he remembered being in that plane, with the water closing in. He remembered drowning. Dying. Even if he hadn't actually died. But that couldn't come close to what Bucky had experienced - Steve had been willing to die. Bucky had been kidnapped and tortured. "Buck," he said, hoping the other didn't mind the little twist on the nickname. He tried to pull back a little, to look him in the eye. "We'll get you through this. I want to help."

[make_it_hurt]

Bucky moved into Steve's hold, only Steve's voice keeping his heart rate from jumping up, keeping his lungs from seizing up. He jerked at the shortened version of his nickname. It sounded nice coming from Steve's mouth, even though he had always hated it from anybody else.

"I think I want to lay down," he said after a while, but made no attempt to pull away from Steve. He kept petting Penny, making himself focus on her and nothing else. Not the world outside, not what he was going to do with his future, not what happened in his past.

He was exhausted and dizzy. His lungs could handle getting enough oxygen in, but not if he was going to be on the knife-edge of a panic attack for hours at a time. He could feel the clutch of it in his throat, the anxiety welling up from somewhere he hadn't known existed a year ago.

[punched_hitler]

Steve winced at the little jerk, figuring maybe he should just stick with Bucky. Maybe Bucky didn't want to be very close friends. He couldn't blame him. Even so, if Bucky wasn't pulling back, the Steve would make no move to let him go, although when Bucky said he wanted a nap, Steve nodded. All that pent-up tension had to be getting to him. And it had to be exhausting.

"Sorry. I'll let you get some rest," he said, finally loosening his grip so Bucky could pull back. "You want me to stay outside?"

They'd secured the room enough, by now, that Steve was okay with taking a seat at the door in the hallway, when Bucky wanted some privacy. Besides, now he had Penny. She wasn't exactly a guard dog, but it anything happened, Steve was sure she'd start barking. Or at least making some kind of noise. So it was like having an extra alarm system.

[make_it_hurt]

Bucky sat up after a few minutes. He looked at Steve then down at Penny. Then he shook his head, "No, you can stay if you want. Maybe I'll watch some tv..." He pulled off his socks and shoes and moved his laptop out of the way.

He opened it and rested it on the floor next to him, slipping under the covers. He laid down and started up a movie. Penny immediately moved to lay down behind him, resting her head on his side.

Bucky looked up at Steve. "Thanks for taking me to get Penny, Steve. Next time we go out I promise it won't be to get a dog." He managed a small smile.

[punched_hitler]

"Okay." Steve nodded, figuring Bucky could do whatever he wanted to relax; Steve snagged the desk chair, and reached over to where he kept a few things in the room, for times like this - a couple of books, and a sketchbook. He pulled out the latter, figuring maybe he could practice dogs, with a model ready and willing right here.

Steve laughed softly, flipping to a blank page. "That's good to hear. I think one giant dog is enough, you know? But we can go out whenever you want, okay? Wherever you want. We'll work you back up to being okay in public."

[make_it_hurt]

Bucky nodded, but didn't find Steve telling him he could go wherever he wanted very comforting. He started playing one of the movies on his laptop - he didn't care what he was watching, he just wanted to watch something, to distract himself from his thoughts.

Still, he finally said, "I'm sorry I flinched when you called me Buck." His voice was quiet, just loud enough to reach Steve. "They used to.... call me that." He pulled his blanket more tight around himself, his hand sliding down to his leg. He could feel his scars through the thick fabric of his sweatpants.

"How much do you know about what they did to me?" He couldn't look at Steve, couldn't look at his face.

[punched_hitler]

Steve worked in silence until Bucky spoke - he'd figured Bucky probably wanted some time alone with his thoughts (or maybe not to think at all), even if he didn't want to be completely alone. He'd finished a sketch or two - rough ones - of the dog when Bucky did finally speak again, making Steve glance up, pencil pausing.

"No, it's - I'm sorry," he said earnestly, quietly. "I wasn't thinking. I won't call you that again." No, especially not if it brought back unpleasant memories. The point was to avoid that.

Though when Bucky asked how much Steve knew, he frowned. He looked back down at the sketchpad, thinking over his answer for a moment. Finally, though, he decided to be honest. That really was the best policy, wasn't it? "I've seen the pictures," he said, quietly. "All of them." Or, at least, most of them. Everything Bucky's mother had shown him. "But you should know, it doesn't change my opinion of you. Of what you're capable of. Or how strong you are."

If anything, it had made that opinion stronger.

[make_it_hurt]

"Did you see the videos?" Bucky refused to look at anything other than the far wall of his bedroom. He took in a shaky breath then let it out, tried to focus on his breathing and nothing else. He closed his eyes but immediately opened them again. The rough laughter echoed through his mind as soon as he did, breath hot on the back of his neck, dragging his head around by his hair.

He had never seen the men that had taken him. He had been blindfolded the whole time, isolated in darkness. So he knew their voices, knew who was who by how they breathed against his ear, the feeling of their lips on his neck, their teeth on his throat, claiming him and hurting him. Until he felt like nothing more than an object for them.

Bucky's only consolation had been that, with the blindfold, they at least intended to keep him alive. They would torture and beat him to within an inch of his life, but never kill him. He was too useful as a bargaining tool, a ransom chip for them to kill him, but they didn't want him to be able to identify him.

[punched_hitler]

"No," Steve said quietly. Part of him didn't want to. Part of him felt he should. And a third part of him simply wished, briefly, that he could take the men who'd done this, and crush their skulls with his hands.

Bucky didn't deserve this. And suddenly, Steve wondered if he needed to hear it. "Bucky," he said slowly, "You didn't do anything to deserve this. I hope you know that. But they weren't people. They were animals, and -" His jaw set in a line. "It's not my job to hunt them down. But if I ever meet them... they're going to wish they hadn't met me."

[make_it_hurt]

Bucky let out a slow breath. He pulled his hand up to his mouth, digging his nails into his lower lip. "They treated me like I was an animal. I was in darkness for eight months. Never saw them, just.... felt them. Heard them."

He sat up suddenly and turned to Steve. He took in a deep breath then said, "I need to tell you the truth, Steve. I need you to sit there and just listen and not talk." He shoved the blanket off his legs, fingers hesitating on the waistband of his sweatpants.

Bucky took another deep breath. He knew the doctors and his mother knew he'd been... assaulted. Knew that they had probably scraped him dry looking for remnants. Had probably found plenty. He looked up at Steve. "Promise me, Steve. I need to tell you something. Something they... did to me."

He started to shove down his sweatpants, kicking them off, then nervously pulled up the hem of his boxers, exposing the cuts on his thighs. Now that they had healed, it was obvious they were tick marks, like those used to count items.

Bucky looked up at Steve, watching for his reaction. His mouth was dry, his heart feeling like it was about to burst out of his chest.

[punched_hitler]

Honestly, the more he heard about this, the less he liked it. And Steve hadn't liked it in the first place. He knew people were capable of things like this, of using people like they were commodities, and not people. If anything... that was why he had been made. To stop one person who saw himself and a few select others as better than everyone else, who saw everyone else as animals that needed to be put down.

But he'd never come face to face with that person, really, nor anyone who had suffered directly at his hands. he'd been an icicle in the North Atlantic months before the Americans had stumbled upon the camps. But right here, right now, he felt like the very first Army man who'd walked into a camp like that, and saw what had been done to the people there.

"Buck - " For a minute, it was okay that Bucky didn't want him to say anything, because he didn't know what to say. His fingers flexed, clenched into fists - and the pencil he'd been holding snapped, although he didn't notice it. He glanced up at Bucky's face, and he wasn't even sure where to start. I'm sorry couldn't possibly be enough. But Bucky had to see that just knowing what had happened made Steve feel like someone had punched him in the gut - with a knife, and then twisted the blade.