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“Think we’re good, Cap.” Tony sounded oddly reserved over the comms.
Steve slammed his shield into one last Hydra agent who slumped over with a blood spilling from a gash in his torso. His anger these days was getting harder to contain and was seeping into work. Natasha didn’t say a word as she stepped over the dark pool oozing toward them. “We’re all set on the second floor.”
“Go on ground,” Sam relayed.
“Looks good from up here. The big guy took care of the tanks. Might need you to sing him to sleep though Widow.” Clint answered.
Natasha cast a look over agents, half of which were tased and the other half would need a medic if they wanted to live. “On my way.” She shut off comms and patted Steve’s arm. “It’ll be alright Steve.”
He could have laughed at that. Nothing was alright; not what they did to Bucky, what they turned him into and how horribly they abused him. Those responsible had vanished in the wind and no amount of searching had been able to dig them up so Steve turned his anger on the other factions of Hydra, ripping down the bases and agents alike because it helped, just a little bit.
But any satisfaction from the blood and rumble was washed away in the shower and nothing but helplessness was left as he carefully approached where Bucky was curled up. He was on the floor because animals weren’t permitted on the furniture and despite Steve telling him, showing, begging him to understand that he was a person, Buck, a real person! he would shake his head making the tags on the offensive band of metal on his throat jingle as if to mock Steve for not reaching him.
The collar was connected to the arm and buried in his flesh. Tony had disconnected the control panel that held the ability to shock and eventually poison Bucky should he try to remove it. The fingernail scars around the band of metal told Steve that his friend wasn’t always so broken. It killed him to think of Bucky that way, as broken, but he was. He flinched away from touches no matter how light. If startled urine would darken the pants Steve had to wrestle him into because animals didn’t wear clothes. Bucky would always cower after, making small whimpering noises that should have come from a severely beaten puppy not a super soldier.
“Hey Buck,” Steve knelt down a good distance from the spot on the floor where Bucky seemed to stick to most. It was by the couch where Steve sat to read and Steve liked to think the close proximity was progress in Bucky remembering. No matter what Bruce and Dr. Cho said about Bucky never mentally recovering, he couldn’t give up hope. “It’s dinner time. How about we try chicken and gravy?”
It was sickening to walk to his cupboard and pull out a can of wet dog food. It makes him wish he could shove his shield through Pierce’s fucking chest. When Bucky first came, Steve did everything he could think of to get him to eat food meant for humans. Bucky would drool over it, poised like a starving dog but never did he dare to even taste it. Steve tried to spoon it into his mouth but Bucky would back away and whine. After several days of not eating anything Bucky spoke for the first and last time.
“The asset cannot eat people food, the asset can only eat dog food. Please, please sir, I’ll be so good. I’m so hungry, sir. Master, the asset needs food.”
Steve had gone through a dozen punching bags before he wrapped his hands and went out to the local pet shop and bought several cans of premium dog food. He watched Bucky devour it like he was trully starving and lick the bowl clean of the sludge like gravy. Steve took away the bowl and heaved in the sink.
Hydra had done this, taken the strongest man he’d ever had the honor of knowing and made him into an attack dog. Now Steve was going to make the pay. But someone still needed to keep after Bucky so he supposed that his job now. After all Bucky looked after him growing up, so what was the big deal?
Bucky went back to lie down in the same spot. Tired gray eyes followed him as he made himself a cold cut sandwich and then sat on the couch, picking up his book. His heart is aching and the food tastes like cement but when he hears a slight rustling and notices that Bucky’s nose is now inches from his foot, he feels a swell of something near satisfaction.
It wasn’t much, but it was progress.