hydratrashmeme | Dumpster #3: The Great Pacific Garbage Patch

Dumpster #3: The Great Pacific Garbage Patch

Holy shitballs, look at us go. Welcome to Captain America fandom's resident wretched hive of scum and villainy: ROUND THREE. AKA Bad Guys Do Dirtybadwrong Things To Your Faves, AKA the Hydra Trash Party kinkmeme. As usual, BLANKET NON-CON AND NSFW WARNINGS apply: just assume going in that everything in this landfill is unfit for human consumption.

Rules in brief: don't be a jerk except to fictional characters, warnings for particularly fucked-up garbage are nice but not required, thou shalt not judge the trashiness of thy neighbor's kinks unless thy neighbor is trying to pass off their rotting banana peels and half-eaten pizza crusts as a healthy romantic dinner for two, off-topic comments may be chucked out of the dumpster at management's discretion, management's discretion decrees that omegaverse, soulbond AUs, D/s-verse, non-superpowered AUs, and dark!good guys AUs are off-topic.

[Round 1] [Round 2] [Fill post] [Chatter post] [hydratrashmeme Pinboard archive (maintained by

greenkirtle)] [Round 3 in flat view (comments in non-threaded chronological order, most recent last)]

Round 3 is closed; comments and fills in existing threads are still welcome, but all new prompts go to Round 4.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He stumbles to the bathroom around midmorning, then crawls back into bed, and stays there until the sky outside his window is dark again, until he has to shower and dress because it's almost time. He tries to sleep, and can't. He misses crim, and con law, and study group, and gets three text messages from Katie asking where he is, if he's okay. [[Sick :( ]], he types finally, and then laughs a little into his pillow, or makes a noise that might be a laugh, anyway, because it's true. Something is badly wrong. She emails him her notes for the day, and he sends Thanks! but doesn't bother to look. He's supposed to talk to Steve and Sam this evening, both of them together, Steve made him promise. The thought fills him with dread.

When the knock comes, though, and he opens the door, Steve is alone. "Hey," Steve says, and tries to smile. "How was class?" James says fine, because it's easier, and then they just stand there, until James realizes that Steve doesn't want to walk past him, doesn't want to brush against his side in the narrow hall. He lets go of the door and steps back. Not sick after all, maybe. Wounded - shot, or stabbed, and bleeding in a way that can't be staunched.

Steve takes in the living room with a wary glance, like he's expecting wreckage - overturned furniture, shattered glass, the aftermath of a storm or an explosion. It's perfectly neat, of course, just as they left it last night. Steve looks at the couch and then away, and finally sits down in James's desk chair. Its sturdy fabric is a little frayed, but it provides excellent back support, and a small push will send it spinning round and round, frictionless. One of his neighbors had put it out on the curb a week after James moved in, and James had rescued it. Along with the desk and a bookshelf, it's alone against one wall, shortened by the door to the bedroom - so wherever James chooses to sit, there will be plenty of space between them.

"Where's Sam?" I'll have to tell Sam, Steve had said, after James stopped really listening, after James told him to go. Can I - do I have your permission - And in the night, before he thought it through, he had felt a flicker of hope. Sam liked fucking him: maybe Sam would want to keep him. Maybe, when Steve told Sam that James was broken, Sam would argue that they could still use him, that if anything he would try harder to please them now that they knew how little care he deserved. But that was stupid. Sam wouldn't want a ruined thing any more than Steve did. It would probably be nice for Sam to have Steve to himself again.

So he hadn't expected a reprieve, a rescuer, and the thought of facing them both had choked him with fear. But whatever he is made to say tonight, he would prefer to say it once. He has no secrets left, not really, but Steve had insisted that they talk again, so Steve might want details. Having heard about David, Steve might want to hear about the others: how many there were, what they did to him. Steve might want to hear about Hydra. He hopes not, because he doesn't want to tell those stories, not to Steve, not to Sam, not ever - but if he has to, better a single time for them both to hear.

"I'm sorry," Steve says, and James wonders how many times they apologized to each other last night, and if they'll have to do that again. "I told Sam - how you felt. What we did. And he's - he's so sorry, James, I hope you can believe that, but he can't - he isn't ready. To see you." Steve opens his hands, a small gesture of helplessness. "Or me. He isn't ready to see either of us."

The thought that he has somehow spoiled this too is like ice in his gut. Steve loves Sam - it's there in every hot and tender caress, every quiet conversation, every one of the hundred small kind ways they fit themselves around each other. Losing Sam would break his heart. "But," James says. "Why? Why would Sam - " And then he plays Steve's words back to himself, and his confusion deepens. "Wait. What do you mean, what you did?"

Steve meets his eyes, and it's an odd reversal of last night, because the set of his chin says it takes courage, says he'd like to look away and won't let himself. "I told him that you thought you had to do - what other people want. That you said yes to us because you thought you had no choice." Steve's voice shakes, just a little, but it's still perfectly clear when he says, "I told him we raped you. I told him that sometimes you hated it so much, you thought it was a punishment."

And James just stares, because that - that is the kind of reasoning he sees taken apart in class every day, gently and not so gently, the kind that starts out right and ends up somewhere totally fucking nuts because of a false assumption along the way. "You didn't," he manages, finally, with what he thinks is admirable calm. "That's - god, that's an awful thing to say." His skin heats, a wave of discomfort so intense he can't distinguish shame from fury. How dare Steve say such a hideous, injurious thing to Sam, when it's not true, it can't be. "That doesn't even make sense. You said it yourself, I don't - you know I don't - "

What you're talking about is a crime, he doesn't say. A serious crime, and the thought of you doing that - of you telling Sam that he did that - is obscene.

"You don't what, James?" Steve says softly. "I know you don't what?"

The wound is still bleeding, James imagines, and that's why he feels dizzy, that's why his stomach hurts. Or maybe it's because he hasn't slept. Maybe it's because he hasn't eaten. "You know I don't have a choice. When people want me. So there's no way - " There's no way to take what he can't help but give. No way for it to happen against his will, when all he wants is to please. Fuck, his head aches.

"That's the thing, though," Steve says, and his voice is terribly gentle. "We didn't know. You're assuming that - that everyone saw you the way you saw yourself. But we didn't. We never would have touched you if we knew you felt - if we knew you didn't want it. If we knew you thought you had to pretend you did."

James shakes his head. No. No. He doesn't understand, and pain grips his skull like a vise. You thought you had to, as if Steve is saying he was wrong. As if James should have been able to give or withhold his willingness like a person. But he can't, he's not, not when it comes to the use of his body. When that happens, he's what they made him, which is nothing. No one.

"It's our fault. We should have guessed," Steve says, "after Hydra - " And James flinches badly, because it's here, it's happening, Steve is going to tear those memories out of him. "I've been - I can't stop asking myself. If I suspected, somehow. It was so easy, taking you to bed again." James bows his head, absorbing the blow. "You'd been through so much, I thought there might be - scars. Problems. But no matter what we wanted, the answer was always yes."

Scarred, James thinks. Deformed. Christ, that's ugly. Darkness eats at the edges of his vision. He needs maintenance, and he's not allowed to ask for it anymore.

"We should have seen. That it was the only answer you could give." Steve's hands are locked together, the knuckles white. His skin has a grayish cast. He won't say it, but James hears it anyway: you sicken me. "Hydra made sure of that, didn't they?"

He remembers last night's stupid, stubborn faith: that whatever had been wrecked could somehow be mended. But Steve had pushed him away, and the disgust and aversion in his face had been irreparable. The same horror seeps from every word of this incomprehensible apology. Steve can hardly stand to be near him, but he's here anyway: to make James do the thing he is frightened of. It's nothing that can be fixed.

"Yes." His ears are clogged with the hiss of static. His own voice sounds alien. "They made sure." It's a hemorrhage now, he thinks, the tidal pull of a mortal wound. "You didn't rape me, you couldn't, but they raped him. Your friend." He's amazed, as always, by how hard it is to say the name. "Bucky. They took him apart. Until it was more than he could bear, until what he could bear wasn't even a valid frame of fucking reference." He can't do this. He can't breathe. "He begged them for it, in the end. When they told him to. He did anything they wanted." Let this be over, let it be enough, please, please. "And he died a long time ago, and no one can hurt him anymore. But it will hurt you, if you make me tell you, and I don't - I don't want to do that." Unable to stop himself, appalled by his own daring: "Please don't make me. I'm begging you not to."

"James," Steve says, "he's not - you're still - " And James sees that Steve has learned overnight how to cry the way he does, unobtrusively, in perfect silence. "I won't," Steve says. "James. I won't. I'm so sorry. You don't have to tell me. I'm not here to take anything else from you."

He's so tired. He doesn't need to eat the way Steve does, but he still needs more than a normal person. Going twenty-four hours without a meal was fucking stupid. Pain in his head, pain in his gut. He wishes he could ask Steve to hold him, to help him, to touch him with kindness. He knows he'll never try that again.

"What, then?"

Steve takes a breath to steady himself. He tugs his sleeve down over his fist like a child, and wipes clumsily at his face. "I'm just - here. If you want me. For whatever you need. We messed up so badly, James, and I can't begin to say how sorry I am, and I just. I want to help, if you'll tell me how. I don't want to make it worse."

I told you, James thinks. I told you what I needed. He can still feel Steve wrenching himself away. Please - please don't do that anymore.

"And even if I can't. If what you want from me is just - to stay away. I need to know you're safe. I need to know you understand. No one owns you, no one has a right to you. You're allowed to say no. If some asshole doesn't take no for an answer, you're allowed to punch him in the fucking face." Steve reaches a hand toward him, and lets it fall. There's no danger of touching; Steve made sure of it. "Please tell me you understand. Please tell me you won't let anyone else hurt you."

Unfair. He doesn't let them: he can no more give permission than deny it. They've been over this. It's Steve, James thinks, who still doesn't understand.

"Okay," he says, because he wants this to be done. "I won't."

"Okay," Steve echoes, and James can hear the relief in his voice. "That's good. And - one other thing. Please, will you consider - telling someone. Your doctor. Your therapist. That we - that you were - that you've been coerced into unwanted sex, with multiple partners, at least one of whom was very brutal. I think - they could help. If you let them. They could support you."

It's probably good advice. He'd known, hadn't he, on some level, that he should tell his therapist about the sex? But he'd hidden it from her, because he was ashamed. He thinks with despair that he could have stopped this, maybe, before everything went so wrong, if only he'd been brave enough to tell her the truth. She is a small, sensible, white-haired lady: how much courage could it take?

More than he has. He didn't tell her then, when there was still time, when it might have helped, and he almost certainly won't now. The damage is done, and he can't bear the thought of more exposure. He can't bear the thought of another kind face braced against revulsion.

"Sure," he says. "Yes." It's easier.

Steve is awkward, leaving: the way he holds himself when he stands is unfamiliar, as if he's sorry for his height, his size, the space he takes up. There's a moment, after he puts on his coat, when he steps towards James as if he means to embrace him - and then freezes, his eyes wide. He ducks his head apologetically, shows James his empty hands. His shoulders hunch as he turns toward the door.

James staggers painfully back to bed. His stomach is a knot of misery. His head throbs. The blood seeps, sluggish now, and he curls around the wound. Stop, he thinks, don't do this, but it's too late, Steve has ripped him open. No matter what we wanted, the answer was always yes. Hydra made sure of that, didn't they? From the pit of him, memory slithers out.

He has mourned for his victims: the people he killed, the people he hurt. He has recalled their faces, as best he can, and recalled their fear, and he has wept. Stop. Allowing himself to cry for Bucky had felt too much like self-pity, and with everything he's done, he has no right. But he's helpless, now, to stop the sadness rising in his throat. It takes him down like a wave, pinning him beneath its bulk, crushing the air from his lungs. He has no defenses left. He wraps his arms around himself, and lets himself grieve, at last, for Bucky Barnes, for his poor short life. For the smart-mouthed kid from Brooklyn who went to war and never came home. Who was rescued, once, and had been twisted and remade before he finally stopped hoping to be rescued again.

Oh
my
god

<3!

Oh my gosh. This is TOO MUCH, it's like 20x better than I could have imagined and I would wait thousands of years to read the next chapter of this wonderfulness. I'm not smarming it's just like...the most perfect fic ever!! I love that James is in law school--I mean, I love that he's doing his own thing (not either being a superhero or sitting at home being depressed)--I like him having his own life. But I also love how his studies affect his thoughts and perception of things. It's just cool.

His shock and ANGER at Steve using the word rape, because that's a crime and James doesn't count--that he's angry on behalf of Sam and how upsetting it must have been for Sam, and how mean it was for Steve to tell Sam that they did that.

Will someone PLEASE comfort him????? All the hugs he is NOT getting are destroying me. I really hope Sam will hug him--but given how things are going, I bet he won't.

Also anything where post-WS James Barnes refers to Bucky as a different person or as being dead or "your friend" is like catnip for me. Poor James! I have no idea how any of this is ever going to get better! Someone is going to spoon him again at some point, right? Is this just going to end with everyone killing themselves? I CAN'T TAKE IT.

Love that James just agrees to stuff but isn't actually going to tell anyone or stop "consenting" because he can't :) :) :) :)

MUTUAL UNOBTRUSIVE CRYING. STOOOOOPPPPP

Will someone PLEASE comfort him?????

Oh nonnie, you are so sweet and I am so easy. Look out for some gratuitous cuddles in 7b, added just for you. <333

I love that you love that James is doing his own thing! :D I wanted to show him making a genuine effort to construct a real life for himself, despite the ~trash problems~ he has to deal with. So he picks a useful (nonviolent) job and learns how to do it, he goes to therapy, he loves small things inordinately just because he can, he tries to ask for help when he needs it.

I also love how his studies affect his thoughts and perception of things. It's just cool. This is incredibly nice of you to say. I've actually headcanoned Bucky as kind of a nerd ever since I saw this tumblr post ages ago (I have tried and failed to find it again for you) that was like, Why do people think Steve had to keep Bucky out of trouble? Steve was the one who wanted to fight everyone; Bucky was the one who went to science fairs for fun. ;)

Thank you so much for your kind words about the story. It makes me ridiculously happy to hear about the things that worked for you, and it helps me press on when I get stuck. I hope you like the next part!

(I have tried and failed to find it again for you)

This one? https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/7f/5d/8a/7f5d8abb7d247c8c0a270657a964afca.jpg

Re: more for less, 7a/~10

(Anonymous) - 2016-03-24 22:46 (UTC) - Expand

Re: more for less, 7a/~10

(Anonymous) - 2016-03-24 22:47 (UTC) - Expand

Re: more for less, 7a/~10

(Anonymous) - 2016-03-24 22:54 (UTC) - Expand

Jaaames, Steeeeve! Poor precious idiots who are still talking at cross-purposes. James just needs Steve to hold him and tell him that he's loved, that he's wanted, and he deserves cuddles and kisses and nice things. But Steve's still stuck in the mindset that he's just like Hydra, and that touching James now would be a violation because if Steve raped him so many times, and so horribly some of those times, how could he want to be touched by Steve at all? And James even realized that there's a difference in understanding between them, he just doesn't realize how vast it is. He doesn't realize that he if he could explain the things he didn't enjoy, Steve might be more likely to believe him when he says he does enjoy cuddles and kisses.

My heart :(

Poor precious idiots who have SO MANY FEELINGS in 7b + 7c. James tried telling Steve what he needed, but by asking for comfort/kindness/reassurance in the form of a kiss he kind of . . . framed it in the worst way possible? I wanted Steve's reaction to be incredibly damaging but at the same time completely understandable. Like what was he supposed to think? *hugs them both*

James desperately needs to be told that he is loved and wanted, and he really does deserve cuddles. Poor Steve could use some cuddles too, but as you say, he's convinced that touching James now would be a violation.

I think the thing that really breaks me about this update is the fact that the consent issue has gotten worse, and Steve's *still not noticing*. Bucky's saying yes to things outside of sex just to get the conversation to stop, and whereas before everything broke down Bucky might be honest to Steve about not going to class, or not planning to talk to his therapist, he just can't, right now, because the most fundamental part of his understanding is broken. He can't promise to say no to other people because he can't comprehend his body as his, but that's what Steve wants to hear, so he says it. Because it's easier than trying to wrap his head around it. Just like how mourning Bucky Barnes is easier, too.

T_____T

James kind of had this big moment of damn-the-consequences honesty, where he asked Steve to sit with him and tried to get Steve to hug him and finally asked Steve for a kiss - and it backfired so spectacularly that he just can't anymore. As you say, his understanding is just broken. :( And the conversation is so painful for him by that point that he'll say anything to make it stop.

Just like how mourning Bucky Barnes is easier, too. And that's hard enough! But still, yes - easier for James than saying it happened to me.

I am wailing.

BABYYY

Oh god. I just want Steve to come back and cuddle him and tell him he'll keep him safe forever

...but I also want things to get more and more excruciating forever.

*hugs!!!*

...but I also want things to get more and more excruciating forever. Ahaha I have tried to balance your interests against those of the nonnie above who asked for cuddles. Hopefully all parties will be pleased. ;)

Thanks, Satan.

You're. Welcome?

That last paragraph pretty much ripped out my heart.

(Please tell me they hug it out and have a good cry over it)

And he died a long time ago, and no one can hurt him anymore.

OH MY GOD!

This is just, so painful because it's so beautifully written.

Thank you so much! <3 I'm glad that line worked for you. (I will also mention that when you let me know a particular line you liked, I curl up into a tiny ball of happiness and emit muffled shrieking noises. It is exactly as dignified as it sounds.)

Thank you/sorry! It was the saddest part to write.

(OP) a!a, I feel criminally late responding, but I was Away, and this was SO NICE to come back to. Oh my god I'm not even sure what to bring up that everyone hasn't already cried over but I just love this. Let's see --

I am so sad about Bucky's reaction of just being broken and unable to function. I think it's extra horrible to read because of the way you've built Bucky up as this consummate survivor: he can deal with his trauma, he can build a new identity, he can go out into the world knowing it means unpredictable, unavoidable, and frequent rape, he can handle seriously unpleasant sexual exploitation at home. None of that is enough to stop Bucky from making a life for himself. BECAUSE HE'S AMAZING AND I LOVE HIM. *hugs him* So whatever manages to ruin that for him proves its deep psychological impact. You mentioned in an earlier installment that rejection is his greatest fear, and that's really paid off here, because none of those horrors broke him -- but the rejection did.

Aaand Steve's so horrified by his own revelation and trauma that he can't perceive Bucky's immediate needs. This is all so awful. It's understandable! If I were in Steve's size 11 shoes, I'd do what he's doing -- worrying much more about the damage his presence could inflict than his absence. At the same time, I want to shake him. He understands Bucky's perspective on sex now, but he still doesn't get the larger ramifications, what Bucky wants and needs emotionally, despite his inability to consent. My baby means it when he says he wants hugs, okay, Steve? Give him hugs. But there are no hugs here and you are SO CRUEL TO ME, A!A. I AM IN SO MUCH PAIN.

Like some other people have said, this has actually made the consent issue worse, because now Bucky doesn't trust Steve to hear him out and take care of him the way he did before. Now he'll say yes just to end a conversation. He's stopped asserting agency. And That's Terrible.

Okay um other things:

- It's so flawlessly Steve to face up to what's happened so bluntly and bravely. Of course he's willing to put it so uncompromisingly. "We raped you." And it's equally perfect how hard Bucky recoils from framing it that way, not just because he doesn't see himself as rapeable, but because he thinks it's ludicrous to paint Steve and Sam that way. Which it would be, except... God, Bucky has no idea what he's done to them EITHER!

- I am soooo worried about Sam :(

- Everything about the Hydra precis got to me badly. First, we have Bucky so terrified of telling the story and knowing he can't resist Steve dragging it out of him; the actual viscerally horrifying content of Bucky being raped past the point of tolerance; and then Bucky begging Steve not to pry it out of him, and poor Steve, crying, with the double blow of that horrible story and the knowledge that Bucky thinks he has to beg him to let him keep his secrets. I want to cry

- It is perfect and tragic that you ended this with Bucky mourning for his old life/self. James has been so focused on moving forward with his life, and it's like, now that he feels he's losing that, that's when he's forced to look back. Or at least that's how I read it.

Great update!

*hugs OP*

I hope it was the good sort of Away, and in any case I'm glad to have you Back. <3 And late comments are lovely, especially when they arrive (as this one did) just in time to see me through the Author Regrets Everything stage of writing the next update. ;)

I LOVE HIM TOO OKAY. And I'm - proud of him, for how hard he tried. But yeah, the rejection is awful for him. And he put up with so much trash for so long. At this point he just can't anymore. (I'm so happy that you liked the way the character was built up, and that the way he's being taken apart is effective for you! <3)

Poor Steve, because his one bad reaction - flinching away when Bucky asked to be kissed - is canceling out so much of what he actually gets right. He's worried about the damage his presence might inflict, and Bucky can see (and of course misreads) that discomfort, but he's still trying to be there for Bucky. He tries to make sure that Bucky will be safe, and get the help he needs. He offers his support unconditionally . . . and it's just too late, because Bucky already asked for help and got told not to do it anymore. (Steve, being Steve, will keep trying.)

You are SO CRUEL TO ME, A!A. Aw, no! *hugs OP even more* You're the one who wrote the prompt. As James would say, the rest is just execution.

. . . the prompt that specifically provided, Imagine how fucked up Steve and Sam would be. Yeah, Sam is not okay. :( He's trying to put on his own oxygen mask first before helping others, which might sound selfish but is . . . sometimes the most responsible thing you can do? But obviously it doesn't work because, as always, trash party.

I'm so glad you liked the ending of this scene. I think in other circumstances it could have been healthy for Bucky to grieve - terrible things happened to him, and it's counterproductive to be so horrified of self-pity that the traumatic past never gets laid to rest. But exactly, as you say - it happens now in part because he's losing the sense of a future.

the Author Regrets Everything stage

I am in that stage in no less than *four* fics right now, and two of them are fills here! I feel like a terrible author.

Which is to say, I feel your pain.

Re: more for less, 7a/~10

(Anonymous) - 2016-03-25 15:21 (UTC) - Expand

I'm rereading this (again...) and what jumped out at me this time is every time Bucky seems to come up against his programming, his head hurts... Is that a sign it will hopefully break eventually?? Or is it just common-or-garden variety anguish?

Yes! I forgot to mention how effective this was. His mindset doesn't actually make sense or hold together, but it's so firmly rooted that even the most basic attempt at confronting his own thinking is physical agony. Or at least that's how I read it and it hurts! (OP)

Re: more for less, 7a/~10

(Anonymous) - 2016-03-24 23:00 (UTC) - Expand

dear author! i've just read the whole story and it's great and beautiful and devasteting, and i loved it so much! thank you so much for writing it. it literally made me cry. i hope that you won't left bucky and steve and sam in this dark place, and that they will somehow overcome all this. thank you once again anyway.

This writing is so incredibly good. The hurt here just wrings you out, holy hell. Bucky's thinking how Steve's logic is flawed, when he can't see his own flawed logic. The way Steve desperately wants to do the right thing, but can't understand Bucky's frame of reference enough to know what that it. Begging not to have to tell Steve more. James mourning his old life, mourning what was done to him. Just.... Damn. This is amazing and cruel and delicious and terrible and wonderful.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only