Dumpster #4: I Don't See How That's a Party

[trashmod]

Okay, kids, you know the drill. Don't be a jerk except to fictional characters. Warn if you want, but read at your own risk, because hydratrashmeme is about as far from a safe space as you can get. Garbage we like: noncon, whump, aftermath, violence, mind control, inappropriate uses of Bucky Barnes' metal arm, bad guys doing dirtybadwrong things to your faves. Garbage you should find a different trashcan for: a/b/o, D/s-verse, soulbonds, mundane AUs, OOC evil!good guys doing dirtybadwrong things to your faves, rotting leftovers dressed up as a romantic gourmet meal. Nothing wrong with 'em, but this isn't the crowd you should be pitching to if you're trying to sell Brock Rumlow as anything but a human dumpster fire.

Link your fills on the fill post, post unprompted fills as replies to a header comment so the wall o' text is collapsible, and let me know if you're interested in helping out with the Pinboard archive.

[Rules in full] [Round 1] [Round 2] [Round 3] [Fill post] [Chatter post] [hydratrashmeme Pinboard archive (maintained by greenkirtle)] [Round 4 in flat view (comments in non-threaded chronological order, most recent last)]

All prompts or fills that contain Infinity War spoilers must go on the Infinity War spoiler post until May 26th. Spoilers in the main dumpsters will be deleted.

Round 4 is closed; comments and fills in existing threads are still welcome, but all new prompts go to Round 5.

Comments

Re: mini-fill [3/?] Re: The only way for Bucky to retain information is through pain

[(Anonymous)]

Bucky pockets the phone and considers his options. It's already 9:03pm, and Tony is pulling him excitedly toward yet another hydrogen fuel cell. His memories, the ones seared into his brain with 16000 volts of electricity this morning, are now mere tenuous tendrils of thought. He palms his pocket. If he can just slip away for a few minutes, he hasn't ever had to do it in the bathroom before, but...

"... but I can think of 15 different ways to make it more efficient, just off the top of my head, and I only have 5 doctorates. Surely you can..."

The man next to him is pattering on about something. The clock on the wall says it's 9:05pm. He feels a sense of anxiety, as if he'd missed a crucial deadline.

The asset looks about him. He is in a large convention hall. The man next to him is tugging him toward a different display. There, about 50 yards away, a tall blond man is frowning at him while talking to a third, shorter man. That must be his handler. He must have been ordered to get close to his target and eliminate him. The asset glances at the clock again. He's probably eight minutes overdue. But maybe if he executes the target properly, they won't punish him too much. Maybe even hide the fact that he'd forgotten his mission.

The target seems easy enough -- he touches the asset with an ease that indicates camaraderie and trust. Good. The asset doesn't have any weapons on him except his arm, but that should be enough.

The handler is approaching, weaving slowly but inexorably through the crowd. No time to lead the target into a more secluded area. He needs to act now, before the handler realizes what's wrong.

He waits for the man to stop talking and turn to him. He grabs for the man's throat.

The asset is slammed to the ground by what felt like a freight train. He feels three ribs crack, and a minor skull fracture.

"Bucky, what the fuck are you doing?"

Steve's worried face looks down at him from above. There are screams around him, and ... shit.

"Bucky. You're bleeding." He feels gentle hands probe at his face. No, that isn't what he needs right now.

"Steve..." He grabs the man's shoulder with his left hand. There was something he needs to say... "Hit me again."

"What? Buck, you're delirious. Let's get you upstairs. Clear your head." The man is helping him up. Is moving him upstairs for a wipe. No, the asset has failed completely. But maybe if he can still eliminate the target... The asset spins around, scans the room for the target...

"Sorry, Steve, he's too erratic. I gotta do this." A low, familiar voice mutters from the right. The target! The asset whips out his hand just as the man says, "It's only gonna sting a bit, Barnes."

A shock of electricity bites his palm and everything goes black.