In 1943 Steven Grant Rogers was enlisted to the United States Army.
Everyone knows the righteous, patriotic Captain America and his story. People might have heard of his mother, Sara, who was a nurse and died of tuberculosis. Perhaps some have even...
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He knew one thing, at some point, they had moved bases but William had been way out of it to understand what exactly was going on. All he knew was that there had been angry shouting, collecting of things and he was being locked inside a truck, the rumbling of the vehicle had made him flinch and try to soothe his muscles, they ached.
But after that, there was mostly darkness and a disturbing, high pitched noise that made his head bound and stomach acid come up. He didn't know how long ago it was, but he knew this base he was currently was a lot rustier. But he was weak, barely able to keep himself breathing through the muscle spasms and the loud sound he made every time he inhaled oxygen.
So once he saw a group of soldiers alike stumble into the room his heartbeat had increased dangerously. He didn't know what it was that burned his muscles and turned his blood into lava, so the mere sigh of the soldiers made him almost cry out desperately for them to leave him alone, only to realize he was too weak to do anything.
To his relief, there was another person they lowered on the table, whoever it was, was definitely injected with something. They didn't even acknowledge William who was chained in the corner, and for the first time in his life, he was thankful for it. They muttered angrily, and he allowed his eyes to flutter shut to try and tame the headache at least a little.
He felt blood trickle down his lips that were cracked due to mild dehydration and dryness. And for a second, he felt as if his mind was playing tricks on him and he was back home, resting on Mrs Davis' couch as the woman baked some cookies. He could almost hear her humming off tune, sending a glare over her shoulder once Will woke to let him know he had not watered the flower beds. And then Mrs Davis' face morphed, her stature growing smaller and wrinkles disappearing. Her lips that were in thin line quirked upwards and the brown irises flashed with familiar blue. Mom!
But when Will opened his eyes again, he was met with hard reality.
He was not going home.
But what made his tired eyes sharpen was the realization that the soldiers had disppeared, leaving one doctor tending to the soldier and the mans face on the table was clear as a sunny day. William's heart skipped a beat and he felt many emotions tackle his chest.
Bucky Barnes' eyes were wide open, but unseeing. His chest was steadily moving up and down, letting William know the man was alive. Bucky was alive, Bucky was right there!
He tried to get up, tried to call out to him, but he couldn't. He was weak. Bucky kept mumbling words, numbers and places in random order, mostly incoherently.
Will could feel the chains around his neck as if he was a dog, the metal rubbing against his tender and raw skin. The sound of water dripping somewhere far, far away. His back had gone numb by the cold and he hated the fact he had no shirt or blanket to cover his upper body. All energy seemed to have been taken from him, and everything hurt. He had kept saying Buckys name under his breath, hoping to wake the man of his paralyzed state, laying on the other side of the room on a metal table. It hurt to watch him there, it hurt both physically and mentally. And William wished he was strong enough to fight the bonds, kill the doctor and save Bucky.
