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.

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Comments

Fill: The Quiet Game (17.1/?)

[devildears]

Bucky had never been a morning person or an easy sleeper in the same sense that Steve was. Still, he could count the times he’d stayed in bed until after sunrise since he’d become a Wakandan refugee on the fingers of his remaining flesh hand. Structuring every day in tune with nature made for a nice, healthy routine as much as it was a necessity.

Maintaining the farm required him to always get up at first light unless he was prepared to work through the burning heat of the afternoon sun - which in all honesty, he usually wasn’t.

This particular morning though, Bucky couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed. He was so exhausted from crying and breaking down in his boyfriend’s arms the other night that his limbs still weighed him down like lead.

He couldn’t believe he’d stooped this low. What kind of pathetic loser would risk a relationship with Steve fucking Rogers himself just to make a point? Well, Bucky Barnes’ idiot ass apparently. He should have ignored whatever stupid shit Mandlakhe had come up with and been the bigger person. Why was it so hard to keep himself in check lately? Was it that he couldn’t function without Steve anymore or because they still hadn’t found Ward and the others?

Bucky dreamed of the day he’d finally slit their throats, perversely longing for the gurgling sounds their dying bodies would make far more than he worked on his recovery. Maybe that was the real issue. He didn’t want to think about himself as a victim any longer but he also knew that the rape had affected him deeply. Enough to want to hurt anyone who dared to question him about it.

Damn Mandlakhe and his entire clan to hell... He didn’t want to see that guard’s face ever again and if that meant he couldn’t leave the hut, so be it. No one was going to drag him out by the hair anymore - which was exactly what Hydra would have done if the asset had tried to stay in bed for a second longer than necessary. Not that it would have gotten the idea.

Steve wasn’t happy with his plan, but since Bucky had taken to calling his self-imposed depression and shame-filled seclusion a “mental health day” which was a real, valid thing Steve had learned from his therapist aka. rogue Avengers BFF Sam Wilson, he respected it.

Steve (sweet, kind, understanding, boyfriend in a crisis mode Steve) took over and handled everything. He even sent the kids away at Bucky’s request, when they showed up in front of their home, expecting him to join for playtime as usual. Today, they wanted to practice stick-ball. Bucky hated stick-ball. He couldn’t remember why he’d taught it to them in the first place.

Steve had never been a skilled liar, so the excuse he came up with wasn’t creative but it got the job done. He told them that Bucky was coming down with the flu (the fucking flu of all things) and was on strict bed rest because of it. When he addressed the children and requested a few days of reprieve for the poor White Wolf, they didn’t question his story and pledged to pray for Bucky’s speedy recovery instead.

Unnecessary, but heartwarming. Bucky couldn’t appreciate the sentiment.

While his boyfriend had gotten more comfortable with bending the truth a little over the years, Bucky still hated that he felt obligated to do it because he was such a fucking mess. Telling people that Bucky had a common cold or something was as close to the truth as he could handle right now, although he felt that he should do better.

When the children finally left, Bucky sighed and buried his face in the pillows, wishing he could suffocate himself in them. It seemed so obvious that he didn’t deserve the love and trust they put in him despite everything that had happened. He could never live up to their expectations, like a walking, breathing disappointment.

All he’d proven so far was that he was batshit insane.

 

---

 

At noon, when it finally became too hot under the covers to wallow in self-pity, Bucky dragged his sorry ass out of bed in slow motion, feeling his one hundred and six years all at once.

Sweat glued the coarse linen fabric to his back like a hairshirt. It seemed weirdly fitting for a repenting sinner like him. The air was stale and getting worse with every labored breath, but he managed to put some marula tea on the stove regardless. Something to occupy his hands and mind.

Steve came in just as the kettle started boiling and joined his partner at the stove. The space suddenly began to feel oddly cramped for two people inside.

Steve cleared his throat awkwardly.

“So, Nat’s probably gonna be here soon. I’ll tell her to get a hotel room in the city and stay overnight. We wanna brief you when you’re feeling a little more— a little better, I guess,” he announced. “What do you think?”

Bucky shrugged. He sure as hell wasn’t fit for company. Especially the kind of company that was going to drag him through specific memories of his gang rape, kicking and screaming if need be, to get closer to the truth. Natasha wouldn’t back down. Even if Steve and her had found a lead, he wasn’t kidding himself into believing she wouldn’t want to know every little thing. It was just practical to know all about his assailants and how they operated as a team from a tactical point of view, but he couldn’t do it. Not yet.

“How are you feeling?” Steve asked with forced casualness, keeping his voice terribly gentle and low.

Bucky snorted. “What do you think? Does anything about me scream ‘healthy and stable’ to you?”

Steve nodded, resigned. “Ok. So it’s a bad day then. Got it. I’ll let you rest.”

He put his arms around Bucky from behind, pressing a small kiss to his partner’s exposed neck.

Bucky shivered. He felt goosebumps rising on his skin where Steve’s lips had just grazed him. The familiar touch now made his skin crawl and how was that for another letdown? The mere thought that Bucky’s mind was set on destroying all the report the two to them had built together as a couple, made him want to cry. He couldn’t let himself show it though, not without seeming even more pathetic to Steve than he already was, so he squirmed away from the tight embrace.

“I’m fucking peachy,” he uttered into his steaming teacup without looking up and took a zip that burned his tongue.

Steve sighed. “Sure... Sorry, I asked. Well, I’ll be outside if you need me. But listen... Buck?”

“Hm?”

“I’d really like to talk about some other things later. When you’re ready.”

Bucky froze, the cup halfway to his mouth. “Things?”

“Yeah.”

“What... What kind of things?” Bucky asked with squirming dread.

Maybe this was it. Steve had had a whole night to contemplate his future with the crazy cheating mess that was Bucky Barnes ghost and maybe he just couldn’t take it anymore. The sad, pitiful fits of depression and the sudden irrational rage directed at him all the time... Steve’s decision made sense in a way, but Bucky couldn’t help but think that killing him would have been kinder.

“Like I said when you’re ready. I’ll just go and—”

“No, no, wait! Please!”

Bucky put the cup down with a rattling, loud clank that betrayed how badly his hand was shaking.

Steve turned around, confused. “...Ok?”

“Please. I, I feel— I’ll try harder ok?”

“Um...” Steve offered. “Try what exactly?”

“Like, I know I’m not great at sharing, but I should try harder to tell you... I—I feel... Crushed. Yeah, crushed. Like someone just planted the damn Chrysler building on my back and I just can’t— I can’t get back up from under it. Steve... I—”

“No...” Steve’s expression changed from confusion to regret. “No no no, I’m sorry, Buck! I’m sorry... It’s not like that. I didn’t mean to scare you. You don’t have to tell me those things if you’re not comfortable.”

Bucky exhaled shakily, a wave of momentary relief washing over him, but he forced himself to keep going. Just because he’d been hurt, didn’t mean he couldn’t make an effort. Steve was obviously worried and rightfully so.

“But... What I did yesterday, what I— Steve, I feel so ashamed about that. All of it. You deserve better, I know that. My recent behavior, it’s been... Ever since they— Well, since they fucking raped me again, it’s like— like I—”

He threw his hand up in the air in frustration.

“God damn it! You won’t get it, Steve! I can try but there’s no metaphor that fits here, ok? No one fucking gets what it feels like... When it happens... Why I didn’t fight. No one gets that! And why didn’t I— I mean, I couldn’t but that’s not the fucking point! I’m telling you unless you’ve been there, I mean really been there yourself, there’s no way you could know how I feel.”

Steve looked at him with deep sorrow. “Bucky, I understand that. I’m just trying to be here for you. What you did for these kids was brave, real brave, and I’m sorry for saying it wasn’t at first but—”

“But what? All I’m saying is, it’s not so black and white,” Bucky cut him short, eyes wild and defensive, “I know you must be so over me saying that but it’s not. It’s no wonder people don’t understand! If they finally stopped painting me as a martyr because of this, then... Good for them. I get it, Steve! I’m an asshole underneath it all! I get that. I’ve done things. Horrible things... So many of them... But you still—”

“I want you to see a doctor,” Steve said out of the blue, cutting him short.

“What?”

“I really think you need help.”

Bucky bristled in exasperation.

“No... Come on, Steve. We’ve been over this. Talking to some stupid psychiatrist is not gonna help me. I know I’ve got issues, real issues but I tried that. I just— I don’t trust them. I can’t. You know that. All they want is talk about what happened to me and Steve, I just can’t! I can’t!”

“I know. I still wish you would change your mind on that because it could actually help you but, Buck... I wasn’t talking about a doctor for your head.”

“Oh.” Bucky nodded weakly. “Oh… Ok? What for then?”

“What you said to Mandlakhe... About doing you a favor with the spear—”

You can even bring that spear of yours and fuck me open with it...

Guy like me? Who knows... Maybe I’ll like that, too...

Bucky felt his own face grow uncomfortably hot.