Deep in our heads

Part 9 - 2016

  "What about a lawyer ?" Steve asks.

  Ross lets out a mocking laugh. "Lawyer. This is funny. Suit and weapons were placed in lock up. We'll write you a receipt."

  "I better not look out the window and see anybody flying around in that," Sam says as we're told to follow Ross.

  "Wait. I'm not leaving here without James."

  "Y/n, c'mon..."

  "No, you're right," Ross adds. "You're not leaving at all." The men who were holding me before reprise their take on my arms and drag me to a nearby cell, similar to James'.

  "Let her come with us, Ross," Steve asks not so kindly.

  "You wanna be the next one to be locked up ?"

  He sighs and I let out an angry shout. Next thing I know, I'm locked up exactly like James. Thankfully they leave my cell next to his and the last thing we see from Steve is him looking back at us as the door dramatically closes on him. God, I hate my life. I turn my head towards James and smile weakly.

  "We're gonna get out of this, alright ?"

  He just smiles and doesn't answer. It's gonna be a very long day. And it is. They put us both in a secured room (as if the cells weren't enough) and tell us we're gonna be evaluated. Like we need that. Can't you already see we're messed up ? Their stupid psychologist walks in, ready to ask questions and take notes.

  "Hello Mister Barnes." Okay so once again, they're not acknowledging my existence. Is it part of my evaluation ? "I've been sent by the United Nations to evaluate you. Do you mind if I sit ?"

  James leans his head against the head rest and I can see how tired he is, both mentally and physically.

  "Your first name is James ?" James doesn't answer. "I'm not here to judge you. I'm just here to ask you a few questions. Do you know where you are, James ?" No answer. "I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

  "Can't you see he's tired ?" I realise too late that I nearly screamed that. I can't help it. I wish they would just...stop. Stop putting him through all of this. How is this fair ?

  "Miss y/l/n, I'll ask you to remain quiet."

  "Shut up ! He doesn't wanna talk, let him rest !"

  "My name is Bucky." I look at James again. W-what did he just say ? Even the psychologist seems surprised. Actually, I can't tell if he's surprised or amused. Something just feels...off.

  "Tell me, Bucky, you've seen a deal, haven't you ?"

  "Yeah, no kidding," I mutter.

  "I'm not talking to you."

  The guy grips harder on his pen for a second. I frown and look to the camera in front of me. Is someone watching this ? Am I the only one who thinks he's suspicious ? I try to analyse my surroundings more carefully than before, the Russian spy in me slowly resurfacing. Sure, the glass should be easy to break but I'd have to free my hands and they're strongly attached by metal straps. I move my wrists a little to test their solidity. Hm. It doesn't look impossible to me.

  "I don't wanna talk about it." I can see James- I mean, Bucky- is getting angrier as the questioning goes further. As I try to free myself discreetly, I can't help but think about his answer. Doesn't he...James is his name, right ? That's how I always called him. Doesn't he want to hear that name again ? Maybe that's why he seemed so weird lately.

  "You feel that...if you open your mouth, the horrors might never stop. Don't worry. We only have to talk about one."

  What the hell is he doing ? That's not an evaluation. To me, it looks a lot like pure provocation. It's like he wants him to snap. That's when I get my chance : everything goes dark and I pull as hard as I can to break my bonds. I can feel them giving in and I let out a growl as I finally break them. I punch a hole through the glass, cutting my hands in several places. I can feel the blood on my arm but that's the last thing I care about. I have to find Bucky.