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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
Disclaimer: I do not own any Marvel characters. They are solely owned by Marvel and MCU. No money is made from this story.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
Chapter Six
James Barnes – Language Barriers

Eduard Marinov, has finally been given permission for a 48 hour pass to visit his family. The last year has been particularly difficult. New guards to train, but not ones he would not have chosen himself. They are still using convicts - around thirty per cent of his men are now from the Gulags - despite the reports he has sent in to say it is a false economy. These are people who are not loyal to Hydra, they are loyal only to themselves.
When he first joined Hydra, the Science section of the Nazi regime under the famous Red Skull, he thought he was doing it for all the right reasons. But Hydra is not what it seems. Under all of its pleasant indoctrination it is evil and polluted. To leave it would mean death for him and his family so he has to play along, trapped in this nightmare.
He has had enough, and he feels sometimes that if he doesn't see any normalcy he is going to end up eating a bullet. He needs to see his wife, hold his daughters, know that there is some beauty in the world.
He leaves for his much needed salvation without a backward glance back at the camp and not knowing that people have been waiting for him to go.
With him gone they have time to play with the amerikanskaya svin'ya - the American pig.
They have paid off the nurse and the guard is in on the idea from the start.
That evening James is in a fitful sleep; his head is bad, the heat in his body making him sweat and he can't move, cannot get comfortable. Noise brings him awake, three men have entered the room and are talking with the nurse. She stands and nods.
He recognises the men. Two are guards, and one is an orderly. They turn around and look at him. He has seen that look in peoples eyes before. They are looking at a victim.
The nurse walks over to the door and James tries to talk to her - tries to stop her from leaving. He is desperate. But he should know by now, no one will help him.
As the nurse walks out of the door she sees the men walk over to the bed. There is no compassion in her at all, no pity. She hears the American pleading with her to come back and although she does not know the words he speaks, she knows what it is he is begging.
She closes the door quietly and walks away.
*
The next day is a long day of pain for James.
The doctors are annoyed and concerned that the batch of serum they thought was working is now showing signs of being yet another failure. When he was delivered to them this morning his condition was terrible enough for even the doctors to realise he is far from well. He is hot, sweaty, they can smell the infection coming from him but do not know that it is because of damage inside him. The latest serum is the closest they have come to getting it right so far, but after what happened to him the previous evening it is trying to fight infected wounds the doctors cannot see, ones inside his body, and so has thrown of all their readings.
Doctor Jakobs is the one to first notice that every time anyone goes near the patient, he is more edgy than normal - and when they went to push up his gown to inject something into his thigh he tries to fight them off. He is begging them for something, but they don't know what - no one speaks English.
James is begging for them not to rape him.
He is trapped in a delirium. He doesn't know where he is. People won't stop touching him, won't stop hurting him.
Jakobs can see that the heat isn't just a reaction of the serum. Before they began their work he gave James an injection of sulphur and prontosil rubrum. Jakobs feels today that even the serum needs the help of an anti biotic. He can see that there is an infection at work but he puts it down to the many needle marks in the patient's arm, they are puffy, sore, hot to the touch. So many needles are plunged into him they run out of where to inject him next and even have to use the top of his left arm. There is also infection in the stub where it is broken and bleeding and Jakobs is quick to re-sew the skin.
Doctor Eric Jakobs is German. Years ago when he finished university he had decided to take up a general practice, so he is considered more of a doctor than the others on the team who are more scientifically orientated. Later in life, after losing his wife and children to allied bombing, he thought his own life was finished - but he was recruited into Hydra by Zola; a friend whom he had known since childhood. He threw himself into his work here to create a better world, one where no more children would be killed by war.
He believes he is working on this project for all the right reasons. But from time to time he does remember they are experimenting on a human being. He had been the one who brought James back from the interrogation camp.
It is 2pm and they are getting ready to do another round of tests. But as Jakobs looks at the patient, he sees that James is grey, sweating, trembling.
“I don't really think we can go any further today,” he says, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes.
The patient is laying on the table in the main room. He can see him shivering, see the sweat on his brow; his eyes are half closed, he can hear him murmuring. He is disorientated. Earlier, when Jakobs had given him some water, he had been shocked at how James had tried to grasp the cup from him, gulping it down so fast it had made him vomit it straight back up.
Jakobs had noticed that their patient always seemed so thirsty, Was it something to do with the serum? A side effect? He had questioned the nurses and told them the patient must always be kept on a hydrating drip.
They had assured him they always do.
They were lying.
“Slow down,” he had said - but of course the man hadn't understood him, so instead he had patiently fetched some more water over and made the patient drink it slowly. James had looked at him afterwards, had tried to talk to him, beg for him to help him - but Jakobs had just patted him on his arm and moved away.
Jakobs does not want to think of this man being anything other than their patient. Their lab rat. He doesn't want to question what they are doing.
“I don't really think we can go any further today,” he repeats to Doctor Lehmann and as much as he resents it, Lehmann has to agree with Jakobs. Even he can see that the patient is finished for the day. He is frustrated that yet another batch of the serum is to be wasted; all that effort for nothing.
He does momentarily wonder if there is more at play here, but then dismisses it. He is still happy to let the nursing staff continue with their treatment, he wants to keep James's mind weak, on edge, frightened, ready to crack. It will be Lehmanns job one day to break the American, and so anything that will make it easier is welcomed.
They tell the orderly to wheel the patient back to his room. Testing is finished for today.
*
James lies in his room asleep. He came back from the main room four hours ago, exhausted, strung out. The doctors have ordered blood tests to be taken every four hours. One of the nurses and an orderly have come to take his blood. They use the top of his stub. No need to waste pain killers, just plunge the needle into the vein and let it do its work.
It is the same orderly from the previous night.
James feels his whole body tense. The nurse writes up on the charts whilst the man smiles down at him. They think he is more heavily sedated than he is because he looks so drained, and they have loosened the straps on the bed to take the blood. They don't realise that the one holding his right hand is looser than normal.
The orderly starts to let his hands wander, he remembers last night and feels himself stiffening at the thought of it.
The female nurse tuts as though scolding a child.
"If you get caught..." she warns.
"I won't. No Marinov, remember?" he smirks and he turns and winks at James.
"You don't mind do you, a little feel now and then." The man pulls away the blanket, and then lets his hand wander down, pulling at the hem of James's gown.
James's eyes widen, his heart beating hard. He doesn't want this man to touch him again. His mind is so on edge it will tip over if he feels his touch any more. James pulls at the strap to try and release his hand so he can stop the orderly. The strap starts to give. He can feel the orderlies dirty fingers on him and he thinks he is going to throw up. He starts to sweat and panic rises up. He shakes his head.
"No don't..." the words barely make a sound, but the orderly smiles cruelly and holds a finger to his lips.
"Sshhh now, don't make a fuss! I'm sure you enjoyed it last night..." he smiles again, and although James cannot understand what the man is saying the smile says it all. James thinks he is going to vomit. Bile comes up into his mouth and makes him choke as he tries to swallow it back down again. He feels the man's hand move higher. Panic bubbles up, giving him a false strength and he pulls again hard. The strap comes loose and James's hand is suddenly free. He clamps down to stop the man's hand from going any further.
The orderly sneers and goes for his baton but James is quicker. He pulls the hypodermic syringe out of his arm and sticks it in the mans face, driving it home through the eyeball right back into the brain.
The man is dead before he hits the ground. The nurse drops the clipboard and screams.
Guards come rushing in, they stop and stare at the dead man.
"Kill him, for God sake shoot the pig, shoot him!" the nurse screams, pointing at the patient.
The guards know better than that. They know James's value. Besides which, one look at the American shows it is obvious he is of no danger now, he is done for the day. He is grey, leaning over the side of the bed, right hand grasping the sheets to keep himself from falling. He is having trouble breathing.
One of the guards hits a button on the wall to call for medical assistance. An alarm starts to blare.
The other guard tells the nurse to get out as two of the doctors and an orderly come running.
The doctors are trying to work out what is wrong. They are shouting questions at James but he doesn't understand them, in all this time no-one has ever considered how to converse with him.
There has never been a need to.
He has fallen back on the bed, his hand clutching his chest. He can't breathe. It is a panic attack. His airways are not allowing him air, in his mind he is back in the interrogation room.
The alarm is still blaring adding to the panic and noise in the room.
The orderly that has followed them into the room is actually trying to help. He is trying to tell them to let the man breathe. He knows what a panic attack is like, even if he doesn't know the word for it. But he does know a handful of words in English, and he is trying to get James to listen to just him.
He bends over the bed trying to make eye contact with the patient.
"Breath...you okay..." the words are heavily accented but they get through and James closes his eyes and concentrates on them, on breathing, in, out. The doctors for a moment forget their own panic and allow the orderly to carry on as they see it is working. James has grabbed hold of the orderlies coat, he doesn't even realise, he is gripping it so hard the orderly couldn't get away if he tried to.
Two guards have been sent in to remove the dead man, they are told to silence the alarm.
As James starts to breathe freely the whining in his ears lessens. He can hear what is going on in the room now. He hears one of the doctors talking to the other one, but has no idea what they are saying.
"You okay now," the orderly says, trying to make the patient concentrate on him once more. He holds James's hand so that James releases the jacket, but doesn't let go after this has been achieved. James looks at him, and the orderly can see the gratefulness in his eyes. James struggles to say something.
"Please don't let him touch me..." but the words are beyond the orderlies comprehension, but he nods as if he has understood.
Whilst the orderly has James's attention, one of the doctors comes up and without warning injects a hypodermic needle into James's right arm.
His eyes widen.
"Don't put me out, please don't...don't...no...they'll come back...oh no God, please..." he doesn't get any further before blackness starts to take him and nightmares begin to claim him. His hand lets go of the orderlies and he falls back, struggling not to give in but he loses the fight and is unconscious within a few seconds.
"What the hell happened here?" asks one of the doctors.
They look at the room. Blood has spurted over the bed clothes, over the patient, puddling on the floor. It is from the syringe that had been filling up with James's blood. The rest is in the dead mans eye.
The orderly shrugs, but it is obvious he knows.
"Whats your name?" Doctor Jakobs asks him.
"Stefan sir." Worry shows on his face.
"You did well today Stefan," the doctor pats him on the arm and Stefan decides to leave quickly before any more questions are asked.
The doctors are not really concerned as to what caused the incident, but it has made something obvious.
They needed a translator. An English-speaking nurse would be even better. And they need them quickly.
If they are to take the experimentation further and also one day work on the patient's mind, then they will need to communicate with him. It may not have been needed up until now, but it will be essential in the future.
*
When James awakes the room is quiet. He is strapped down. The door is open and a nurse sits at the table reading. It is the same nurse from earlier. She knows how heavily sedated he is and the straps are so tight he cannot move.
He desperately needs something to drink. His mouth is parched and he tries to move, tries to call out to get her attention.
She hears him and, surprisingly, comes up at once. Leaning over him. Smiling. But the smile does not reach her eyes.
"Did you want something?" she asks in Russian. Her voice is low and pleasant and she knows he won't understand the words.
She uses her hands to gesture drinking.
"Water..." James says nodding, he looks at the cup on the side table hoping she will understand what he needs.
She turns and picks up the beaker, swishing it so he can hear the liquid.
"This?" she asks, and he nods guessing she is referring to the liquid in the cup. His head is pounding, his mouth is so dry.
The drip feeding into him which is supposed to be hydrating him is turned off - but he wouldn't know that.
There is of course no morphine.
"Sorry, its empty," she says, shaking her head and then drinking what is in there.
James's mouth dries even more when he hears her swallowing.
"Please..." he asks.
"All gone," she replies, and holds it upside down, letting a trickle fall on the bed clothes.
Then she places it back on the bedside table, pours some more water into the cup from the jug and smiles at him, she leaves it where he can see it. She goes and sits back down.
"Please..." James whispers, his eyes feel gritty. He needs to cough but can't. He would die for a drink, just some cool water. His tongue feels like it is sticking to the roof of his mouth, he can hardly swallow, he starts to sweat, he can't move and his skin itches.
Let me die, please Lord let me die.
He closes his eyes and prays. Eventually his mind allows him to sleep.
It is hours later and everyone has settled for the night and James is woken from a deep sleep. He doesn't understand what is happening. There are two nurses and an orderly. The guard that should be outside has taken a convenient break.
There is no-one this time to see them remove the patient to the shower room. There are more staff waiting there and they strip the gown from him. He is thrown against the back tiled wall.
“You wanted a drink,” the nurse from earlier says.
The showers are switched on full, freezing cold water hits him. He needs to be reminded about the rules.
James splutters not being able to follow what is happening. They are saying things to him but he doesn't know what. They are telling him he is a 'dirty American pig'.
The nurse steps forward with a bottle of bleach and upends it over his body.
As soon as the liquid reaches his injuries it starts to burn, starts to eat away at James's skin, and he cries out. He feels the fumes burning his eyes and the lining of his throat. Bleach gets into the stub of his left arm which has recently been opened and stitched closed, he almost hears it sizzling as it touches the skin and open wounds.
There is no compassion, this is his punishment for killing one of their own.
They get long handled brooms, the bristles stiff and filthy with grime and use them to clean him, tearing away his skin, he tries to protect himself. The brushes leave him bloody and torn, curled up in a ball against the wall, sobbing.
When they are finished they return him to his room, soaking wet, freezing cold and the straps are placed back over him, cutting into the irritated and abraded skin.
The nursing staff know they won't get caught with the punishment they gave him. He is not needed for testing the next day. Doctor Jakobs has persuaded the other doctors to give him three days rest to get better. The nurses know the schedules, they know when the patient will be needed and they know by the time he is back in the main room his injuries will have started repairing themselves.
Besides, it is amazing what you can cover up with a simple hospital gown.
*
Because of what happened to the orderly, orders are given that James is to be kept more heavily sedated from now on. The straps binding him to the bed are so tight they bite into his skin. The bed clothes are filthy, damp from urine, and blood, they chafe his skin, cause sores.
Testing starts again.
The orderlies and nurses are more jumpy around him. They are quicker to use their electric batons and soon the burns they cause are festering. The doctors cannot understand his slow rate of repair on the damage they themselves cause in the testing. The wounds shouldn't even be getting this bad, why is the serum not working better? They do not know of the treatment James is receiving, they only see a small amount of the burns that they believe are from radiation and pain testing. They do not see the bed sores, and do not know of the other torture he is being put through.
Except of course for Doctor Lehmann. He believes he knows what is happening.
The doctors know the serum will eventually repair the damage, so it doesn't concern them when they cause him pain. They have no idea he is still not getting any pain medication or that the nurses are keeping his drips switched off to punish him for striking out at the orderly.
Marinov returns, but is kept busy catching up with work that he missed whilst on leave.
Stefan, the one person that tried to help James, does not know what to do about what he sees and hears. He has tried mentioning it to Doctor Lehmann, and Lehmann made it more than obvious that Stefan was to mind his own business or he will find himself out of a job. Stefan is no monster but he knows if his job here is terminated it would mean his death.
He has begun to receive mild threats from the other staff who have noticed he does not join in with the rough treatment of the American pig.
Stefan has no one to turn to.
Perhaps James is not the only one who is alone.
- 5
- 6
- 7
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A Bucky Barnes Winter Soldier Fic - The Constant