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

FILL: Daybreak part 15b/15 Re: Identity Porn in captivity

[(Anonymous)]

When they finally reached the control room, the Soldier paused. He’d never been inside before, never had a reason to, and he didn’t know what to expect. But this was where the asshole who gave the orders tended to be and where he’d expected to be brought.

The locks on the door disengaged with a loud series of thunks. Before the Soldier could step inside, the guard yanked Steve into the room. Steve instinctively caught his balance first, but the guard gave him a hard shove in the back and he went down. And stayed down.

The Soldier followed. He waited behind Steve, paying him no mind.

Part of him started to slide down, caught in the undertow, as the officer stared at him, the same as always. Where before he’d just let it happen, hadn’t questioned it, this time he fought. This was a reaction they’d put in his head, a safeguard they’d come to rely on. When a superior addressed him, he was docile. When he was given an order, the thought of disobeying it sent pain lancing through his skull. These were things they’d done to him.

Why would they have needed to implant these things in a willing volunteer? How could he have ever been so stupid?

He dug his nails into his fingers while he tried to stay afloat. Concentrated on the room itself, the bank of screens (one of which was, in fact, a live feed of the round room), the guard with his hand on his weapon and his eyes on Steve’s ass.

“You may stand, Captain,” he was saying. “Let’s have a look.”

He glanced quickly at Steve’s face before he stood, concerned that Steve wouldn’t be able to keep still, but he’d underestimated him. Steve’s expression hadn’t changed much since the Soldier had slapped him, just like he’d instructed, and the effect served to make him both meek and somewhat pitiable. Submissive and smaller than he was, even at his full height.

Harmless. Beat.

With his gloved hand on Steve’s bruising cheek, he asked, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Steve opened his mouth to answer, then closed it again, frowning. His chin dropped lower.

The delight in his eyes at Steve’s hesitation, at his uncertainty, lit up his face. “You may speak. But this is promising.”

“I’ll tell you whatever you want,” Steve said. “Do whatever you want.”

“And what do you want?”

“Just make it stop.” He glanced over his shoulder at the Soldier. “Make sure he never touches me again.”

A voluminous, deep laugh bubbled up his throat. He actually rubbed his hands together in glee. The Soldier realized how desperate they’d become, how obsessed they truly were.

“Oh, Soldier. I underestimated you.” He turned back to Steve, looking him up and down more closely. “You’re in no position to bargain, but I’ll bite.”

The man leaned closer, and Steve shifted his feet, hunched his shoulder in further.

“Anything, Captain?”

Steve swallowed, nodding immediately.

“I knew you’d see reason,” he said gently. “Pardon the cliche, but resistance is futile. I knew this reunion would cement it for you. You’re not really as stupid as you appear.”

He backed away to lean against the console, nodding to the guard. The Soldier didn’t turn around as he closed the door.

“This is joyous news,” he said pleasantly. “And just in time. I’ll bring you to Pierce, and you’ll tell him what you told me before we begin the procedures.” His smiled soured, his voice hardening. “But I won’t be made the fool. Prove yourself. Get on your knees.”

There was a tense moment where the Soldier wasn’t sure what Steve would do, if he understood how far he’d have to play this, if they were on the same page. This had been Steve’s stronghold of resistance: they’d used him, sure, but no one had successfully gotten him on his knees. The Soldier palmed the syringe back into his hand as carefully as he could, just in case.

Steve sunk to the floor.

It was a bittersweet relief.

As the Soldier moved out of the way, he realized that he didn’t even know his name. He rarely knew anyone’s name. No one ever bothered to tell him, and he’d grown so apathetic that he no longer noticed.

But the nameless officer paid him no mind as he opened his pants.

The Soldier didn’t watch. The choked, wet sounds were distracting enough. He concentrated on moving into position as unobtrusively as possible and waiting for the right moment.

He marveled, as he quietly slid a length of IV tubing from the lab out of his sleeve, at how easily they had taken his compliance and docility for granted. The man barely reacted to the Soldier’s presence. If anything, it made him grunt and thrust harder. An ugly, uncharacteristic smile stretched the Soldier’s lips. What a fitting way to dispatch this man.

In a swift motion, he plucked the man’s sidearm from its holster, dropped it to the floor along with the syringe, and wrapped the tubing around the vulnerable throat thrown back before him in pleasure. While he pulled it taut and the man sputtered, the lingering guard surged forward.

Steve grabbed the syringe and jammed it into his thigh the second he was within arms’ reach. Enraged, he tackled Steve to the ground, but with a dose meant for the Soldier, it didn’t take long to take effect and put him down.

Steve watched his face while he held on. There were easier ways he could have done this, faster ways, but this was quiet and wouldn’t draw attention. And he wasn’t kidding himself: he wanted to inflict this. It wasn’t satisfying, but it was what he deserved for setting the Soldier on Steve, on all the other prisoners, on the world. It was the tip of the iceberg, he knew, but it was better than nothing.

When the Soldier dropped his body to the floor, Steve closed his eyes.

“Get these off,” he said, trying to reach behind himself and not getting far with his hands bound together, wincing despite himself.

The Soldier studied him briefly as he deactivated and removed the cuffs, realizing how spectacularly dense he must have been this whole time to not notice how the constant, prolonged positioning must have been damaging Steve’s shoulders. They would heal, probably, if Steve’s physiology was anything like his, but for now, and probably for some time, they were fucked.

Steve tensed as he moved behind him. He paused, more to show that he’d noticed than to wait for permission. They didn’t have time for that. He peeled the patches away quickly, tossing them onto the floor. Then he moved back to the dead officer and started to strip his clothes.

When he finished and looked up, Steve had hauled himself up to the console and was on the computer, hands moving rapidly.

“We have to get out of here, Steve,” he said quickly. He tossed the bundle of clothes at Steve’s feet. “Get dressed.”

“Hydra is planning something big,” Steve answered without up. “If I leave here empty-handed, then they win. People will die. And this will all have been for nothing.”

“What, you planned to get caught and experience their hospitality?”

“No. But I should get something out of it, don’t you think?”

The Soldier swore and moved the door to check for passersby. When no one appeared, he scanned the screens for movement elsewhere, confirming that their escape route was clear.

“Fuck,” he finally snapped. “Move over and get dressed.”

Steve had already pulled up a decent number of files, but he had nothing to transfer them onto and the intranet led nowhere. The Soldier found a drive after rifling through some drawers, and he finished up while Steve pulled on the dead man’s clothes.

He pretended not to notice when Steve scooped up the patches and pocketed them, busying himself with the man’s ID cards so they could move quickly past the building checkpoints.

“Walk like you belong,” he instructed Steve.

All told, it was shockingly uneventful as they wound their way up to the ground floor of the building. Any other time, every floor would have been teeming with people they would have had to subdue.

Steve was sweating heavily and panting by the time they reached the final doors, the ones that would take them outside. The Soldier moved to support him, but Steve pulled away, leaning into the bar and throwing the door open instead.

The Soldier froze when fresh air hit his face. The sun was coming up, early morning light hitting his eyes so unlike the buzzing fluorescents of the compound. Steve kept moving.

It was unreal how normal the building looked from the outside, just any other office space in the middle of a city. Steve seemed taken aback, like he’d expected to find himself looking at a bunker in the middle of nowhere. They walked for several blocks, cutting through alleys, before they spoke again.

“I know where we can lay low for a bit,” the Soldier said.

Bucky. His name was Bucky. He was out, his final mission was finished, and the Soldier was done. Outside, breathing fresh air of his own volition for the first time in … forever, really …

Outside, he was Bucky Barnes. Time to try it on and get used to it.

“I know where we’re going,” Steve said. Exhaustion gave his voice a pinched quality, but purpose drove him forward. He was already rifling through the stolen wallet in his pocket. “Got to meet some friends of mine and finish this.”

“Steve, you’re hurt. You can barely move. You need a doctor, and you need to get the hell away from here. Just run. Don’t you want to get away from it all?”

Steve narrowed his eyes at him. “You don’t remember this now, but you will. I’ve never run from a fight before. I’m not planning to start now when that would be tantamount to a death sentence for millions. You saw those plans. We’re running out of time.” He snorted. “Anyway, if everything you’ve done to me hasn’t killed me yet, it’ll keep for a few more hours.”

He paused, something like regret flashing across his face.

Bucky’s mouth pressed into a thin line.

Steve’s face softened, something very sad creasing his brow. Haltingly, he reached out, his hand hovering somewhere near Bucky’s shoulder before he finally set it down and squeezed. “Bucky, you know you were raped, too, don’t you? Whether they … Whether they fucked you or not, they used your body. They forced acts on you that you wouldn’t have consented to under other circumstances. Certainly wouldn’t have chosen. It wasn’t your fault.”

Bucky swallowed, throat tight and painful. He looked away. “What was your plan?”

After a long, searching beat, Steve swiftly looked away. When he responded, it was like the past minute hadn’t happened. “First, tell me everything you can about them that’s not on this drive.”

So they marched, away from enemy territory and into the coming warzone, and Bucky talked and Steve listened, occasionally asking questions, as the sun rose fully in the open sky.

Re: FILL: Daybreak part 15b/15 Re: Identity Porn in captivity

[(Anonymous)]

Thank you for this story! It is so sad and bleak and wonderful, a true trash gift. The look on Steve's face when Bucky hits him! Steve getting on his knees! Bucky berating himself for not figuring out his role sooner. I'm excited to read this again on AO3, and super excited for the sequel!

Re: FILL: Daybreak part 15b/15 Re: Identity Porn in captivity

[(Anonymous)]

Thank you so much. And oh, man, that's such a compliment, that you'd like to reread it. I really appreciate that.