Dumpster #5: We didn't start the trashfire

[trashmod]

Welcome to the latest, greatest, scummiest iteration of hydratrashmeme. Come on in and please check your sense of shame at the door.

Rules in brief: Don't be a jerk except to fictional characters. Warn if you want, but read at your own risk, because this is emphatically not a safe space. Link your fills on the fill post. Unprompted fills: make a prompt or a header comment and reply to it with the full text. Continuations of fills from earlier rounds: just make sure you link in both places.

What's on-topic: Filthy and perverted twists on all the quality whump served up by Cap: Winter Soldier. Noncon, aftermath, uncomfortably sexualized violence, mind control, inappropriate uses of Bucky Barnes' metal arm, bad guys doing dirtybadwrong things to your faves.
What's off-topic: a/b/o, D/s-verse, soulbonds, mundane AUs, shippy/romanticized noncon, MCU heroes repurposed into OOC or edgydark delivery vehicles for your fave's suffering. If you've got a prompt for one of those burning a hole in your brain, head on over to mcu_trash.

[Rules in full] [Round 1] [Round 2] [Round 3] [Round 4] [Fill post] [Chatter post] [hydratrashmeme Pinboard archive] [Round 5 in flat view (comments in non-threaded chronological order, most recent last)]

Comments

Fill: Untitled Sam trashing (2/?)

[(Anonymous)]

As they led him into a room off of the main corridor, all sorts of enhanced interrogation techniques that Sam had heard rumors of, or read about in leaked manuals, or seen cited in Facebook rants welled up in his mind. There was no bright light shining on his face, no stainless steel tray of surgical instruments. Just a bare room with smooth metal walls and a bolted-down table at which they pushed him into a chair.

Ross came in just as the two guards took up stations next to the door, and dropped into the chair across from Sam. “I don’t have a lot of time, so we’re going to cut right to the chase. Where is Rogers?”

The hardest part, Sam thought, would be keeping his smart mouth shut. That was the thing about interrogations—you start talking, even just to tell the bastards to shove it, and it’s hard to stop. Best to stick to name, rank, and serial number, or better yet, nothing at all. He settled back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. Think about something else. Like how hopefully Steve and Barnes were halfway to Siberia by now.

“I’ve been looking at your service record,” Ross said, as he opened a folder stuffed with paper. “I still have friends in the Pentagon. It wasn’t hard to get.”

Was this supposed to be impressive, how influential and connected Ross was? He was a former Army general. Of course penetrating military bureaucracy wasn’t a problem for him. Sam didn’t find it difficult to remain unimpressed.

“Six Letters of Reprimand,” Ross tapped the folder. “Looks like you’ve always had a problem with authority. Explains why you viciously attacked Colonel Rhodes.”

Sam looked down at the table and didn’t say a damn thing. Ross was trying to draw him out, push his buttons so he’d start running his mouth. He didn’t viciously attack anyone. And besides, he didn’t regret a single one of those LORs.

“Training in resistance to interrogation,” Ross read from the file. “That’s useful. Looks like you were never captured by the enemy, so you might not have anything to compare this to, but let me assure you, we’re much more efficient at this than the Taliban.” Ross looked across the table at Sam. “And as far as the US Government is concerned, Wilson, you are a terrorist, which means you’re an extrajudicial detainee.”

Sam supposed that was meant to scare him, but he’d figured by the lack of due process that this wasn’t anything so benign as an actual arrest, so it was nice to have his suspicions confirmed. It did make his stomach churn a bit to think he might have even fewer rights than he would if he’d been arrested.

Ross looked back down at the papers. “Pararescue, hm. Maybe you think you’ve seen the worst things that can happen to a human body. Maybe you think you know how to deal with pain.” Ross leaned in across the table, and Sam raised his head to look at him. “But I am in a hurry here, so let me assure you that I have no qualms about violating your body in every way it is possible to do so until you tell me what I need to know.” He settled back in his chair. “Now, where is Rogers going?”

Ross’s expression was cold and implacable, but Sam stared right back. No matter how absurdly phrased, a threat was still just a threat, and every moment Ross kept talking, Steve was getting further away.

“Fine.” Ross pushed to his feet. “Bennett, Hampton, he’s all yours. Call me as soon as he talks.” Ross strode out of the room without a backwards glance.

Bennett and Hampton stepped up between Sam and the door. They carried side arms and batons, but not rifles. Nothing easy for a prisoner to grab. Not that Sam was going to try to escape. His job was not to bust out; it was to stall, which he’d known when he suggested this plan in the first place. That didn’t mean it was easy to just sit quietly and wait for something to happen.

“Get up,” said the one on the right—probably Bennett.

When Sam didn’t move fast enough, Bennett grabbed the front of Sam’s shirt and hauled him to his feet, then stepped back and glared.

“Get your clothes off.”

Sam raised an eyebrow at him, but the man stared back, expressionless. Sam had known guys like this in the Air Force. No one in his unit, thankfully, but he’d run into guys whose main personality trait seemed to be their sense of their own importance. They generally displayed a bit too much enthusiasm for following orders, and a righteous hatred of anyone who didn’t. Sam had never gotten along with that type.

“Now,” Bennett growled.

Sam didn’t particularly want this guy to do it for him, so he pulled his shirt off, folded it, and laid it on the table. Slowly, telegraphing his motions, Sam bent down to slip off his shoes. He’d already been naked in front of guards—these or some others, he wasn’t sure—earlier, so rather than give them the satisfaction of ordering him to do it, he pushed down his pants and briefs and stepped out of them. Those he folded and added to the pile, with the shoes on top. Then he looked back at the guards.

He wasn’t going to cower in front of them, naked or not. He figured if this was their first move, he was in for some Abu Ghraib-style bullshit, maybe some photo ops before they started up with the more painful enhanced interrogation techniques. Sam could deal with that. He’d prefer humiliating photos to waterboarding, personally.

Bennett and Hampton were looking him up and down. “I thought black guys were supposed to be bigger,” Hampton said, making a crude gesture.

“I knew those wings were compensating for something.”

They both chuckled. Sam focused on the wall ahead of him, and felt his hands form into fists. He couldn’t afford to get mad. They were going to say horrible shit, of course they were. Didn’t mean anything. Time was passing, and that was the point.

“Take all that to the cabinet over there,” Bennett said, and pointed. Sam turned and shuffled over to a recessed storage unit, taking the opportunity to examine the room: the table and chairs, all bolted down; one exit, the one Bennett and Hampton were blocking; riveted metal walls, ceiling and floor, which was fucking cold on his bare feet; an air vent in the center of the ceiling, ten feet up, less than a foot wide. Sam opened the door to put his clothes in. There was nothing else there, not even dust.

“Hey Wilson, you ever fuck any of the other Avengers?” Bennett asked.

“Yeah, like Black Widow,” Hampton put it. “You get a taste of that pussy?”

Sam turned back just in time to see Hampton waggling his tongue obscenely.

“No, man. She’s tough as hell,” Bennett laughed. “She’d probably snap his little dick right off.”

“Maybe he’s butt buddies with Captain America,” Hampton said with a grin. “That sparkly outfit is gay as hell.”

“I’m telling you, the dude’s, like, a hundred years old. They didn’t even have gay people back then.” Bennett glanced back at Wilson. “Stand there.” He pointed to a spot in the middle of the room. “Don’t move.”

“If you could fuck any one of the Avengers, who would you fuck?” Hampton asked.

“That Scarlet Witch girl.”

“She’s not too skinny for you?”

“Maybe a little, but think about it. Right now she’s drugged halfway out of her mind. Totally doesn’t even know where she is. I could fuck her like that, and she’d be all sweet and plaint, like, oh, oh, oh!” Bennett made his voice high-pitched and did a terrible imitation of Wanda’s Sokovian accent.

Hampton laughed. “I bet she likes a nice fat cock. Bet she’d like to suck it.” He mimed pushing a head into his crotch and grunted. “Ungh, ungh, ungh—“

Sam didn’t realize he’d stepped forward until both the guards moved at once. Bennett landed a solid punch in Sam’s gut, right up under the ribs, and knocked the air out of him. Hampton darted behind Sam and wrenched his arms up behind his back.

“No goddamn manners,” Bennett said. “We were in the middle of a goddamn conversation.” He produced a thick pair of cuffs and settled them onto Sam’s wrists, locking his forearms together behind his back, then stepped away. When Sam tested them, he thought they were probably strong enough to hold Steve, let alone a regular, non-super-powered human. He needed to calm down, try not to listen. They were just getting started—he shouldn’t be making rookie mistakes and letting them get under his skin.

“Where were we?” Bennett asked.

“Ungh, ungh, ungh—“ Hampton grunted, pumping his hips.

“No, with him.” Bennett inclined his head toward Sam, standing alone in the middle of the room and shaking a bit with the remnants of his adrenaline rush.

“Oh. Strip search,” Hampton said. “Making sure intake didn’t miss anything.”

Re: Fill: Untitled Sam trashing (2/?)

[(Anonymous)]

Oh god. This is so good and I am filled with so much dread.

Re: Fill: Untitled Sam trashing (2/?)

[(Anonymous)]

I love the two guards’ personalities. You’ve captured the exact sort of asshole who would do something like this.

Re: Fill: Untitled Sam trashing (2/?)

[(Anonymous)]

God this is so terrifying and so SAM, the letters of reprimand and trying to keep all this control over himself in such insane circumstances... I freaking love every word

Re: Fill: Untitled Sam trashing (2/?)

[(Anonymous)]

I'm still getting random shivers throughout the day just thinking about this, them making him put away his own clothes and still pretending it's just a search

Re: Fill: Untitled Sam trashing (2/?)

[(Anonymous)]

(OP)
I love everything about this. Your Sam voice is amazing and the two guards as well. Their conversation is terrible and disgusting and exactly what I wanted. It's the kind of thing you expect from assholes who'd work at that place.

I’m telling you, the dude’s, like, a hundred years old. They didn’t even have gay people back then.

That made me snort, though, when were gay people invented, the 70s?

I'm not so good at leaving feedback, I just want you to know that I'm loving every word.