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A Bucky Barnes Winter Soldier Fic - The Constant	By : TheConstant1944 Category: Marvel Verse Comics > Captain America Views: 2391 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Chapter List
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Chapter Twenty-Nine
The Constant & The Patient – Prevention

You awaken on the bed, dressed in the vest and pants you were wearing when you entered cryo-freeze. A female orderly moves around the room and you have difficulty in focusing on her. Has there been a problem with you in cryo? Although you normally feel sick when you come out, you do not feel as bad as this. Your head is pounding and when you move your whole body aches; it feels like you have been kicked in the stomach.
“I don't feel so good,” you say to the woman and she nods and suggests you take a bit longer to rest. She helps you move so that you can lie under the blankets and she encourages you to take two pain killers. You lay back down and do not realise but you are out for another four hours.
You sit up just as the door opens and one of the doctors appears. When he looks at you, you can see he tries to hide the alarm on his face. You are so pale.
“We need you in the main room,” he says, and you swing your feet around to get up but instead you find yourself falling forward. Luckily, the orderly catches you.
“I think she's going to need a little longer,” you hear her say before you black out.
The third time you wake up you feel better, but it's still as if you have been kicked. The doctor is there and he bullies you into getting up; you get the idea that you have caused them a great inconvenience.
To your mind though you cannot understand why they are waking the patient so soon after they have woken you; this is only a test, so it is not as if they have to wake him for a mission, those have not even started yet. You do not realise seven hours has gone by since they first brought you around.
“Did anything go wrong when you brought me out?” you ask.
He won't meet your eyes, and instead answers you impatiently. “No. Of course not.”
“I just...I just need to use the toilet,” you say and stumble away before he can complain.
You lock the door to the cubicle and sit down to pee but it hurts. Oh great, you think, an infection. Just what I need. But it seems to be more than that, and there is blood in your urine. You go back into the room and the orderly helps you dress.
“Is Stefan about?” you ask. He is usually here when you wake - but the woman just shakes her head.
“I think they sent him over to help Kristo with something just after they put you under. He won't be back until tomorrow, I'm afraid.”
You nod and try to smile. This is unusual. Stefan has never been sent anywhere before, has never worked in the part of the camp Kristo returned to. That is the problem with Hydra. It plays on a person's paranoia and you tell yourself to stop being stupid.
The lower part of your stomach feels as if it is pulling, and there is pain down there. You follow the doctor with a stiff gait, and the world seems a bit tipsy turvy. The orderly had insisted on you taking another couple of painkillers and you are glad she did.
You need to talk to someone. You feel that something may have gone wrong in the latest round. You were due to be out of it for a week and when you asked the orderly that is how long you were down for. Perhaps they are using a new drug to bring you back to reality? You do not get a chance to ask as the doctor keeps up the pace and you find you have to almost jog to keep up with him. Each step you take sends streaks of pain through your body. This is ridiculous, you think.
He leads you to the main room and you can see they are preparing to bring the patient around.
“Get her a chair, for God's sake, before she falls down!” one of the other doctors snaps, and you realise you were leaning against the wall in an effort to keep yourself upright. The world isn't spinning quite as much as it was but you still feel as if you are seeing everything from far away.
As you sit there is a increase in the pain in your lower stomach but you try to ignore it; you need to be here for the patient. He needs to see you. You are his Constant.
Doctor Jakobs is usually here, but you can't see him. Doctor Taffeteer comes up and you ask where Doctor Jakobs is but he tells you he is busy and won't be attending this particular awakening. He crouches down in front of you, concerned about your pale skin, and he gives you a cup of water and two more tablets. You shake your head and explain that you have had some tablets but you gratefully accept the water. He cannot meet your eyes, however, and that is when you begin to know something is wrong. It is not just your paranoia.
Something has happened.
You ask him, but he colours slightly and is evasive. You can see he doesn't know what to say. “Nothing. Come on now buck up, we need you for the patient.” He smiles and pats your knee and then walks back to in the rest of the doctors. They are now totally concentrated on the patient, on bringing him out. You sit back and watch the procedure, knowing that you are not needed yet.
Ten minutes later the pain killers have kicked in and you are feeling slightly better, but still as if you have been kicked by a mule. They are ready to give the patient the final injection which will bring him back to consciousness. They get you to move next to the master chair so you are in his line of sight; he needs to see you, recognise you, and know you are not a threat. He needs to be kept calm, just in case. You hear them engage the arm clamps.
They are counting backwards and the chair is swinging up into the seating position. You watch as his eyelids flutter and you see his hands start to clench around the seat handles. You place your hand over his right one.
In the future, when everything is up and running, they will wipe him before every cryo-freeze so that when he comes around his memory of certain things will be blank. At the moment they have not attempted a wipe because of the problem of sorting out the two personalities. You know that Zola has invited another doctor to see if they can work out a way of combining the personalities. Since then Lehmann has seemed a lot happier about the situation.
The count finishes and for a moment nothing happens, then he opens his eyes. This part always makes your stomach flutter. You watch him blink. He catches sight of you. Those blue eyes drink you in; his whole body seems to relax and it takes a few moments for you to realise everything is going to be all right.
“You've just awoken from the cryo freeze testing, and you are going to feel a bit strange for a few moments. Just breathe and take your time,” you say to him. He is looking straight at you and you feel relieved. He nods at you, understands what you are saying, he remembers. He leans back and closes his eyes and you move back away slightly so the doctors can start their barrage of tests.
You know they now need to check him over, and you also know he hates this part but you stay with him to translate. The patient is coming on extremely well with learning Russian and some of the time he replies before you have any need to on his behalf. He is calm and does everything asked of him but there is a flatness in his gaze, almost like that of an automaton.
At the end of the session you are shattered. It makes no sense at all. You tell him you will see him later back at your room. He frowns and you tell him you are just tired and your head hurts.
“Just a bad head. I need to sleep it off.”
He is used to you staying for the full time and you hope he just accepts your excuses. He does...but you can see he doesn't like it.
When you get back to your room you go into the bathroom and lean on the sink. Your face is pale in the mirror. You are so uncomfortable and your stomach is hurting; you pull up the gown and reflected in the mirror is an angry dark patch of bruising across your lower stomach. You blink and look closer and immediately recognise what it is: you are bleeding internally. Something happened when you were in cryo. Something serious.
Before you can stop yourself you are sick into the sink, but you hardly throw up anything: water, bile and blood. It feels like you are tearing your insides apart. In the bathroom is an emergency call button in case there are problems with the patient. You move to hit it, and as you do you lose consciousness. You do not even hear the blaring of the klaxon.
When you come around you are lying on your bed. Two of the doctors are there, together with Stefan and Lehmann.
There is no sign of the patient.
“Idiots! Why didn't you check first?” Lehmann is saying. Demanding.
One of the doctors sees you and indicates you are awake. Lehmann turns to look at you but is dismissive. He turns back to the doctors. “Just sort it out,” he says before leaving the room.
You try to sit up and the pain doesn't seem so bad as it did. It is 24 hours later and they have operated on you again – not that you find this out until later.
Two operations, and neither with your knowledge or consent.
“Orderly, will you leave us please,” one of the doctors says and Stefan looks as if he wants to refuse. You try to smile and tell him you will be all right.
You are left with the two doctors, neither of whom like you or want to spend time with you; to them, you are nothing but a minor player, a mere distraction from their important work that they want to get back to.
“You will find you'll be all right now. Just a slight complication in the process.” one says, indicating by his tone that he believes it was your fault.
“What process? What happened to me?” Your voice is quiet; you need a drink of water and ask for one. The other doctor tuts and goes to the bathroom and brings back a cup of water. Your hand shakes and you spill some of it on the sheets.
He takes the cup away from you once you have drunk some.
“What happened to me?” You ask again looking at them, “what...what did you do to me?”
“Tubed litigation...” And in case you didn't realise what that is he makes it easier for you: “We sterilised you. Theres no need for you to make any fuss.”
You are quiet. You did not hear them right. They cannot have said what you thought they said.
One of the doctors indicates that they need to be going. You have a rising ball of panic in your chest.
“You...”
The doctor hears you start to speak and cuts you off mid sentence. He makes it obvious he doesn't understand why women are always so hysterical. “We sterilised you. Surely you realise we can't have you falling pregnant, especially as the patient uses you to … ” his face goes blotchy, and red “...relieve himself, he can't be allowed to breed. I'm perfectly sure you can understand that. ”
You are stunned. You search for something to say, but before you can they tell you to rest and then they are gone; gone before you can speak, before you can cause a scene.
You slowly move back onto your pillow, your mind wants to blank out what you heard. Then the panic returns and you push back the covers, pull up the gown and stare at your stomach. The angry purple colour has receded. The area is bloated and painful.
“No...no, no... ” you are saying without realising it.
They can't have done this to you. They didn't ask. They never said a word. They never...then you remember the conversation you had with Zola. It seems so long ago. You had thought you were pregnant, when in fact they were drugging your food to see if you were suitable for the cryo-freezing process.
You close your eyes and you curl up onto your side.
They cannot have done this to you.
But they have.
*
It is later. You think you may have slept. Your eyes are swollen and you feel bruised and battered in mind and body. You hear a commotion on the other side of the door and it opens then closes. Footsteps come over to the bed. You don’t care. You don’t want to talk to them again. You don’t want to look at them. You curl up tighter, not really wanting to because it hurts, you start to cry again.
A hand touches your shoulder and you pull away but it persists and someone pulls you over to look at them. It is the patient.
He doesn't know what is wrong. He hasn't seen you for over a day; they told him you were unwell, nothing to worry about.
“Freya,” he whispers your name.
He looks at you, puzzled. His eyes show he is anxious, confused.
You shake your head. You suddenly think that he won't want you any longer, that you can't be a woman to him any more – it is a stupid thought, but you are not thinking straight. Your emotions are all over the place.
You try to turn away. His hand tightens; he won't let you. You need to comfort him, reassure him, but you can't, you have nothing left in you for anyone else at the moment.
“Go away,” you sob.
He is so confused, she has never been like this before, pushing him away. Her face is swollen and red from crying. She smells of blood and sweat, panic rises in his chest. His heart starts thumping, something is wrong - very wrong.
“Go away!” you scream. You pull away, to the other side of the bed still sobbing. You know you are getting hysterical but it is welling up in you, you cannot control it.
Instead of leaving he climbs onto the bed and forcibly pulls you up. He tries to put his arms around you but you fight him. Pain lances up through your body and you are hysterical now, you don’t even hear him saying your name. Then he holds you as tight as he dares and starts to rock you. You sob.
It is a complete role-reversal.
The words she is trying to say come out making no sense at all. Something here is wrong, very wrong, and it not of his making. He has sent the quiet one to sleep for now and he is determined to find out what is wrong. She is upset and needs time. The one thing he is learning is patience. He doesn't like it, but sometimes he realises there is no other option to get what he wants.
Slowly your sobs grow quieter. Outside the door there is another commotion. You feel him tense, but nobody enters. He relaxes and picks up a corner of the sheet and starts wiping your face, your eyes and now you start crying again but silently.
“Tell me,” he whispers.
You shake your head and you do not realise it but you are clinging to him now. He carries on wiping your face and rocking you gently.
He is quiet until he hears her breath hiccup and he knows she is ready to talk. She doesn’t see his eyes. He is learning, making them think they have his quiet side, his acquiescent side, the one that is currently asleep. She doesn’t see his metal fist which is curled up in on itself so tight. This is his woman, his property. They wouldn't tell him what was wrong but he is learning to play the game, he knows they have done something.
“Tell me,” he says.
And haltingly she does.
*
It has been another long day and the doctor is tired, but more than that he is annoyed for all the trouble the stupid woman has caused. How were they to know their would be complications? He isn't a gynaecologist. What does it matter? It's not as if they would ever allow the patient to breed. If it were up to Hydra, a lot more people wouldn't be allowed to either. He told Lehmann to get that old fool Jakobs to do it, but Lehmann had insisted he do it instead. Anyway, it all came right at the end.
He barrels into the changing room. He is going to change, go back to his rooms, and have a quiet evening. He opens his locker and reaches for his tie when he hears a movement behind him and turns. The door to the changing room closes in on him as the patient steps forward. Eyes blank.
“You shouldn't be in here. This is for doctors only!” The doctor is indignant, annoyed, and speaks to him like a subordinate, like a child.
He turns his back on him but then realises the patient hasn't moved, hasn't said a word, and he turns slowly back, a terrible feeling starting in his gut.
The patient is closer to him and his hand shoots out and grabs the doctor around the neck. The doctor feels the metal dig into his throat and his hands scrabble against the patient's arm. He is lifted off the floor and held against one of the locker doors. He tries to speak, but the pressure closes off his windpipe and then carries on getting tighter and tighter.
The patient's eyes now glow with an anger this man has never seen before. He gets in close, really close.
“You cut her,” he growls quietly, looking into the man's eyes.
The doctor is so frightened he wets himself. He can hear his heart beating loudly in his ears. He tries to shake his head, no. He may have done the operation but it was Lehmann that sanctioned it. He gurgles trying to talk, trying to breathe. The patient carries on squeezing, well beyond what he needs to, until he is holding a lifeless body.
The door bangs open and guards run in, shouting for him to let go of the doctor. He does and makes no effort to protect himself when one of the guards uses the end of his rifle to club him to his knees.
Doctor Lehmann is in the doorway. He sees the waste of a good mind, and he knows exactly what has happened. He is angry and tells the guards to take the patient away. “Lock him in...and make sure he stays there.”
As the patient is taken out he smiles his thin-lipped smile at Lehmann and, without realising it, seals his own fate.
*
Lehmann and Zola are arguing. Jakobs stands by, watching them.
“We need to wipe him now,” Lehmann snarls.
Zola is indecisive. “I'm not sure now is the time to. You are angry, and therefore you are doing it for the wrong reasons.”
“We have to do it some time!” Lehmann is adamant that he is going to get his way. He needs to sort this. Day after day...one more test after another. They are wasting time. They need to do it now. It is time.
“But the technology isn't ready yet. They haven't performed enough checks...” Jakobs looks at Zola, who won't meet his eyes.
Zola looks at Lehmann. “Be it on your own head.”
Lehmann turns to the other doctors.
“Wipe him.”
“But...” Jakobs tries to argue, but Lehmann has had enough.
“I said wipe him! And make her watch.” He blames her for what is his own fault.
“I don’t think there is any need for...” Jakobs starts, and Lehmann looks at him.
“Make her watch so she can see how vulnerable he is in our hands. Next time, she will learn to keep him at arm's length. We were stupid. We have made him reliant on her, and now look what's happened.”
He turns back to Zola. “We need to terminate her. To find someone else.”
“He needs a Constant. She must stay. It has to be her. We've been over this too many times already.”
Lehmann tries to argue further, but this time Zola's tone brokers no further argument on the matter. He is sick of it. Sick of arguing.
“Mores the pity.” Lehmann turns back to the doctors. “Wipe him, and make sure its deep.”
*
You are brought into the main room, hustled into the corner, and made to sit down on a chair. A guard stands next to you. Whatever it is they are going to do, you will not be allowed to interfere. You don’t know what is happening.
The patient is already sat in the master chair, his chest bare. There is machinery around him that you know is something to do with the wiping process, but they have not used it before and your heart goes to your mouth. Surely they are not going to wipe him? Not yet! The process isn't complete, it is still in the testing phase!
The patient doesn't see you. Someone leans over him and puts a mouth guard in, which he is told to bite down on. The chair begins to rotate and then the two bands of steel either side of the chair come up and over his arms so he cannot move. The rings have been reinforced.
(Authors note: for image see http://i.imgur.com/loGKwIT.png )
The chair tilts back as two thick metal plates come up either side of his head. One moves to cover the left side of his face.
Everyone in the room is concentrating on the patient, but even so you cannot move out of the chair they have sat you in. If you do the guards have been told to shoot you.
There is a whining sound, and parts of the plates against his head start to glow. Suddenly he jerks in the seat and cries out. The whine starts to build and you want to put your hands over your ears to shut out the whine and the noise of his screams. Because that is what he is doing now, screaming as pain fills his whole head. His body is taut, cords standing out in his neck, his eyes are screwed shut and you can smell burning hair and flesh. His teeth have clamped down so hard on the mouth guard that afterwards they will not be able to reuse it and two of his back teeth have cracked.
Lehmann is there. Watching. Concentrating. He has so much riding on this.
One of the doctors goes to switch it off but Lehmann shakes his head.
“I told you to make the wipe deep! Turn the dial all the way up. ” he says and instead of switching the machine off they turn up the dial as instructed, they increase the pain.
One of the doctors wipes his brow, and you realise for the first time that Zola is not there.
The Winter Soldier is straining against the bindings which cut into his flesh. The pain is unbearable as he feels parts of his brain burnt away. He cannot escape. He is held tightly and there is nothing he can do. He can smell his own flesh burning, feel his mind being ripped apart. He alternates between the two identities, trying to escape: but neither of them can cope with it, neither of them can stop it.
He cannot take any more. His mind blacks out.
You don’t know how long it goes on for - it seems to never end - but one of the doctors is now dialling down the machine and the whine is decreasing.
The patient is unconscious. The chair returns to it normal position and the steel bands spring back - all but one. The one on his right arm has somehow become embedded in the flesh and cannot release itself. Blood is speckling the floor.
Lehmann moves forward and talks quietly to the doctors as they inspect the patient, inspect what the monitors are telling them. You cannot hear what they say, your ears are still humming from the sudden stillness in the room.
Lehmann then turns to you. He walks over, comes forward and leans right into your space. You look up at him. His hands are on the arms of your chair, you can smell his breath.
You lean back as far as you can.
“See what you have forced us to do? If you have any feelings whatsoever for that...thing, then you will do well to remember he is ours to do with as we like. You caused this, you and your stupidity. If you don’t want this happening again then remember you are just here to ground him and...” He sneers at you, “...service him, nothing else. You will not stop this project from going forward in any way or I will have you terminated. Is that clear?”
You can see from the look in his eyes and the way the other doctors are kowtowing to him that he has become a major player in Hydra, and that is frightening. The hatred in those eyes shows as a madness; this man lives and breathes power and Hydra, and nothing will ever stand in his way.
“I said, is that clear?” His voice stays low but the menace in it is real.
You nod. You feel so scared you can't speak. He stands up and faces the doctors and guards, all of whom are now staring at him.
“And what are you looking at?” He demands. “Get everything sorted and back on track…fix that for next time,” he says pointing to the band. “And then get him back to his room and stabilised. Let me know the minute he comes around.” His voice carries authority and anger, a terrible combination.
He leaves the room.
For a second, nobody moves - until a groan is heard and everyone turns back to the patient. He is struggling to regain consciousness, but they cannot allow him to yet. They start scurrying around and you are released from the fear that has held you in check.
The guards allow you up so you can help; after all, you are a nurse. The band that was embedded is still trying to come loose; they forgot to disengage it and the band of metal comes away with a loud sucking noise.
“Oh hell!” you hear one of the doctors say.
“Hypo!” yells another. They will need to keep him out, keep him unconscious until they can release him and get him out of there. Until they are ready for him to wake up.
*
Later, in his office. Lehmann closes the file. Perhaps this time everything turned out for the best. It forced their hand, made them use the wipe. He is sure that when the Winter Soldier wakes he will be one personality now. The brain waves they were following seem to infer that something had happened and when Fennhoff saw the readings he was very pleased.
Lehmann congratulates himself on the good call on his part not to tell the woman what the complication was; that she was two months pregnant when they sterilised her. They hadn't realised.
Best, he thinks, that she, or the Winter Soldier, never find out.
*
That night Doctor Jakobs pays a visit to the furnace room. He is allowed anywhere in the complex but it is better if no one sees he is here.
He carries a small wooden box. Inside something is nestled between two layers of cotton wool. It is the only thing he could find for the job.
He starts as someone comes up behind him, but it is only Stefan.
Stefan helps open the furnace door and holds up the shovel so the blade is balanced. Gently, and with reverence, Jakobs lays the little box down on it.
Lehmann had ordered tests to be done on the fetus the next day. He wants to know if the serum is present in the remains.
Jakobs will not let that happen.
Hydra have taken both James and Freya apart, taken their lives away from them. He will not allow anything to happen to their dead child.
“She must never find out,” he says.
Stefan places the shovel blade into the fire and as gently as he can, he puts the box down on the burning coals and then removes the shovel. Then he closes the door.
They both silently say a prayer.
“When did we become such monsters?” Jakobs says before they leave but Stefan knows it is not a question.
It does not need a reply.
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A Bucky Barnes Winter Soldier Fic - The Constant