Prompt Post 1

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At least one of the characters in your prompt must have been in Captain America: The First Avenger or Captain America: The Winter Soldier.

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Update, April 22, 2014:
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Fill: I'm Yours to the End of the Line (3/?) Warning: Torture

[(Anonymous)]

Bucky isn’t sure exactly what they do to him. Things go fuzzy after the third or fourth injection. He recites his litany of name, rank and service number every time the pain becomes sharp and distracting, in order to keep himself focused. He burns up, like Steve gets when he’s sick, and.

And. And then Bucky is seven years old, and he’s getting tested. They give him some games that he has to do a certain way, and then they ask him a series of questions where they tick off his answers in a folder.

Then they get his preliminary delineation in the mail, and its night and Bucky is in bed, though vaguely he realizes this happened several months after the test. Bucky hears his parents arguing about it, but he doesn't really understand why they’re arguing.

“You know these tests are fallible. They're affected by the bias of the examiner. Look at us!”

“The bias usually goes the other way, sweetheart. Either he got an unbiased examiner, or he scored so completely in the sub range that it was undeniable even with bias. It could even be that the tests are better here in America. We have to consider this with a cool head. We need to talk to Bucky about what this might mean.”

“Not until he's tested again. Not until it's official.”

Bucky's mother gives a great sigh at his father's words. “They aren't going to change it, sweetheart. It almost never happens.”

Bucky's father starts to – hiccup? After a second, he realizes that he's crying. Bucky goes cold and then hot in quick succession, because fathers don't cry, Doms don't cry. He crawls back under the covers of his bed so that he doesn't have to hear.

Then his mother is sitting him up in bed, and it’s day and Steve is there, holding his hand, and he’s still seven but he should be ten, after he’s gone through the testing a second time.

“Yasha,” his mother says very carefully, petting his hair. “You know about your delineation results, yes? Well, your father and I have something to talk to you about regarding that. You see, well, I’m really your father, Yasha, and we need you to understand…”

Bucky wakes up shaping words with his mouth, no idea what he’s saying, and the man in the suit is petting his hair like his father in his dream, his hand a ghost of hers on his brow.

“Yakov Barysheva,” Bucky says, gasping and exhausted even though all he’s done is lay there. “Sergeant.” The American rank is sharply jarring in a way that’s confusing for a second, before he realizes fuck, fuck, he said his name in Russian. He’s probably been babbling in Russian too. Bucky hasn’t slipped accidently into Russian in over a decade.

“Aren’t you just perfect?” The man whispers, still petting his hair, and Bucky jerks his head away from him and keens.

“James Barnes,” Bucky repeats, even though he wants to say fuck you. He knows better than to directly engage. “Sergeant. 32557941.”

Bucky doesn’t know how long he’s strapped to that table, but he fades into consciousness and pain already speaking.

“James Barnes,” he says, thankfully in English, and then moans because his head feels like its on fire. “Sergeant.” His tongue feels heavy in his mouth. “32557…” 941, he finishes in his head, because he doesn’t have the strength left to form the words. He almost wishes the man were there to sooth back his hair again and tell him he’s perfect, that he’s doing good, because that might make this bearable.

“Bucky, oh my God,” someone is saying to him, and then the straps are gone and he’s being hauled upright. “It’s me, it’s Steve. I thought you were dead.”

“Steve,” Bucky repeats, managing to focus his eyes and form words with his mouth, and yes, the man looks like Steve. Well, he mostly looks like Steve. “I thought you were smaller?”

“Come on,” Steve-not-Steve says, throwing Bucky’s arm over his shoulder and, wow, that’s a lot further up than he’s used to.

“What happened to you?”

“I joined the Army,” Steve says, sounding both worried and flippant as he basically carries Bucky out of the room. “Let’s get you out of here.”