𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑

༻ ❁ ༺

October 10th, 1943

          "I SWEAR, if that damn guard pokes me with that stick one more time..." Lawrence grumbled, glaring through the bars.

"I'm pretty sure your wife would kill you if you die." Bucky muttered as he rubbed the mark on his lower back. He had no idea how the guard had managed to hit the same location twice a day for a week.

Gwen absolutely would have his guts for garters, if he was to attempt anything reckless. Which was one of the only things that saved that particular guard from having his mask cracked by Lawrence's fists.

Bucky himself was of a similar mind.

It was hard enough to keep the men around him from breaking when he wanted to let his own anger out. However, if they were dead, they had no chance of escaping. He had no illusions regarding the possibility of a rescue attempt. He had little reason to anticipate that rescue would arrive after being marched into Austria on a chain gang.

The forced labour in the factory complex was one thing. All of the POWs were of a mind to gather as much information as they could, just in case.

Just In Case is all that was keeping some of them going. They had to believe they could escape. They had to stay alive until they found their opportunity.

Worse than the forced labour, worse than the rough treatments from the guards, worse than having to sleep in cages like animals at the zoo, was the little round rodent-faced scientist.

Bucky had noticed the little man peering down from the walkways above them, as if he were a farmer inspecting his flock, deciding which one would be the next to be slaughtered. And every few days he would come down to the factory floor, point at a few of their number, and the poor bastards would be dragged away, never to be seen again.

There were a lot of rumors going around among the POWs regarding what the small man was up to with them. Was he torturing them for information, or was there something more sinister going on? Some even speculated that he was performing experiments on the men he took.

At this point, Bucky was willing to believe almost anything. Something about him just didn't feel right. There was something lacking in his gaze, as if he didn't see any of them as humans. Every single one of them was a lab rat. They were just means to an end.

Bucky could only pray those beady little eyes never turned his way.

Hang in there, Alice. I'm gonna make it back to you.

༻ ❁ ༺

October 19th, 1943

It wasn't a good sign that they hadn't been let out of the cages this morning.

POWs had been taken out of their cells and put to labor as soon as the sun rose every day since arriving at the factory. Their guards had been eerily silent today. There had been no food available. There isn't any water. Since the guards' shift change about three hours ago, there has been no movement.

All of the men were tense because of the break in routine. Change was a negative thing. There was no way the change was because their side had won. So, either their side was losing, or perhaps someone had made the decision to do something about the detainees.

The prisoners were shaken by movement at the far end of the prison. There wasn't even a whisper. None of them had the audacity or the folly to say anything. They didn't have to say anything.

Colonel Müller had arrived. Commander of the prison camp, he visited sporadically, either here or in the factory itself.

Almost every time he came, one of the men was 'punished' for some offense, real or imagined. Punishment usually entailed being beaten so badly that the sufferer was unable to work. Men who were unable to work resorted to Zola's experiments.

The camp commander prowled up and down in front of the cages, a hungry wolf facing down a flock of sheep. Bucky wanted to disappear into the crowd. Hide behind the shelter of anonymity. Keep his head down. Stay out of trouble - he would get through this.

They were losing so many men to the commander's whims. He could take a beating and keep going; he could help protect his guys if he had to. He'd keep his head down for now. Only stick his neck out if he needed to.

"One of you is a thieving rat. Someone has been stealing food. Whoever tells me who the thief is will get extra rations for a week as a reward." The commander slapped his cane into his hand.

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

"The thief will be punished, as will anyone who shelters him."

One of the youngest inmates caught the attention of a dozen sets of eyes. He couldn't be more than 16, a member of the French resistance. He was constantly hungry, as they all knew. In captivity, he was already in anguish. The scientist had begun sniffing around as he was becoming increasingly feeble.

God damn it. I'm sorry, Ally.

"It was me." Bucky stepped forward. "Yeah, your mother gets hungry after she's done blowing me."

Just because he was expecting the hands that hauled him out of the cage didn't mean that he was ready for it. Or for what came next.

Bucky didn't let himself fight back. He'd gotten himself into enough scrapes to learn that fighting back would just make things worse. He'd be able to withstand the blows. The kid was unable to do so. That was all there was to it.

But oh, how he wished he had even one hand free.

It wasn't the first time he'd stepped in to defend someone smaller - in fact, he was pretty sure he'd spent the most of his youth and adult life doing so - but at least he'd gotten in a few licks of his own.

But three against one, beating a bound prisoner? That was just cowardly bullshit.

He probably shouldn't have said that out loud.

༻ ❁ ༺

October 30th, 1943

"You're going to get yourself killed if you keep pulling this shit." Lawrence grumbled. Another day, and Bucky had found a new way to antagonize their captors.

"Better me than one of you married guys." Bucky cradled his dislocated elbow.

Colonel Müller was hell-bent on putting someone on trial. Bucky was adamant that he would be chosen over the others. If there was one thing being Steve's best friend taught him, it was how to attract trouble.

So far, it had been working. The Colonel was completely engrossed with him. That was good because it meant he was the only one who had to pay the price. It also meant that he would be the one to bear the brunt of the punishment. However, the thrashings were starting to wear him down.

"You want me to tell that to Alice?" Lawrence snorted and wrapped his hands around Bucky's forearm. "Deep breath. This ain't gonna tickle."

Bucky's vision went white as Lawrence and Pinky pulled in opposite directions. "Son of a -!"

"You're going to have a hard time working tomorrow." Pinky scowled and fidgeted with Bucky's elbow, making sure it was back in place. Bucky's vision didn't threaten to blank out again, so they must have done something well, because it was still agonizing.

"I'll be fine." Bucky could picture Alice's face if she could hear him say that.

For at least a few days, he wouldn't be able to lift anything with that arm. Two of his other hand's fingers were broken. His entire left side was in excruciating agony. If his girl found out he was working like this, she would be furious.

"We'll cover for you as much as we can." Gabe said leaning in as close as he could from the next cage.

Bucky knew they would. The harder these damn Hydra Nazi's tried to break them apart, the more the men rallied together. They were a more unified group today than they had been when they were captured. Men from various countries unite in their hatred for one another.

Dugan punched the bars. "He can't keep doing this. Not just to you. To any of us."

The men in his cage all nodded in agreement.

Bucky spat on the ground outside his cage. There was more blood in his phlegm than was entirely comforting.

"And how exactly are you going to stop him?"