The Price We Pay for Family - 14

Cont...

 It took Shuri five hours to disconnect the vibranium buffer. She called them in a panic and rattled off coordinates faster than her mouth could work. When Rhodey plugged in the coordinates, it was like someone had punched Sam in the chest. Ten miles outside the city. They hadn't ever really left. 

He was out the door and ten feet in the air before Rhodey could finish transmitting the location to his HUD. A mechanical whish behind him told Sam that Torres was coming too. They made the trip in less than five minutes and smashed through the warehouse window. 

Sam unfurled his wings wide, kept the shield in front of him, and extended his guns, ready to fight, only to come to two sickening realizations. One, there was no one in the warehouse. And two, there was blood all over the floor. 

Torres swore as he landed on the beams above as Sam hovered over the gristly scene. Whether because the floor is still wet and glistening with too much blood to be healthy or because sitting in the middle of the pool of blood is Bucky's arm, with no body to be found.

 "No," Sam whispered. He carefully landed where there was no blood. Redwing popped out of his pack and began scanning the surrounding area. He wasn't sure what he was looking for. A body, people, anything other than the gore in front of him. Because no one survived losing this much blood, but part of Sam hoped desperately that the Super Soldier Serum would work its magic. It'd done it before. But instead, Redwing confirmed something graver. All the blood covering the floor was Bucky's. 

Sam felt like he was gonna pass out. Or puke. Or scream. Or all three. He's dead. He's dead, he's deadhe'sdeaddeaddeadhe'sdead. 

Sam gagged at the realization. There is no after this. There are no search parties or hospital visits, no therapy sessions, or late-night talks. There's nothing. There's not even a body. But there's enough blood to fill his nightmares for years to come. 

Sam was faintly aware that the forensic teams were there now and that SWAT had secured the building, but he couldn't get his feet to move. He couldn't get his mind out of the hazed state it was in. He couldn't get over the fact that Bucky was probably dead. 

"-am, Sam!" Rhodey's face suddenly came into focus, hands holding Sam's shoulders, grounding him to the here and now. "You with me?" Rhodey asked, concerned. 

"Yeah." Sam decides. 

"Kay. You're gonna wanna see this." Rhodey let go, but his words are enough to tether Sam to the land of the living. Sam followed Rhodey numbly through the crowds to the techs set up outside, "We found a USB drive inside the fist of his vibranium arm. I thought you would want to see it first hand." 

Sam nodded shakily, "Okay." The tech manning the booth pushed play, and Sam's world fell away and zoomed in on the screen in front of him. 

The person filming isn't great, but the camera shudders and tightens and goes still. It's filming the doors of the warehouse as the person filming it does something to it that makes the camera shuddered once more then, "It's ready." 

The voice is modified to be unrecognizable. But Sam had an awful feeling that didn't mean anything good. 

The camera moved smoothly as it panned away from the doors to where the gory bloodbath was now. Bucky's standing there, stone-still, two darkly dressed goons holding his arms in one of their hands with an electric rod in the other. They'd bound his hands in front of him in what was definitely vibranium the way it gleaned. Not good, not good at all. 

"We need to hurry up if we are to stay on schedule." The disinterested voice said as distorted as the first. 

"Oh, but where's the fun in that?" A third voice positively pouted even though the distortion. 

"If you hurry up, we have time for both." The camera person reasoned. 

"Good thinking." A smaller figure in dark baggy clothing came forward towards Bucky, "Let's get started, shall we?" A mass of plastic in their hands made Bucky stiffen, but he didn't flinch when the person grabbed his right arm and jammed a needle in the main vein. So they did want his blood.

 The person who put the needle in backed away after securing it, letting the longer tubing fall free. "Alright, and then suction." 

The person hooked the tube to a little machine hooked to a bag. The instant they said that, red shot through the tube at a concerning speed. Bucky's chest heaved as he stared at the dark red liquid leaving his arm as he tried not to hyperventilate, at least that's what it looked like from where Sam was standing. 

"Now, let's see how much will be enough." The person manning the blood draw stepped back into view and motioned the guards to release Bucky. They stepped back, and then one of them slugged him point-blank right at the nose, or it would have been if Bucky hadn't shifted, so it hit his cheek instead. The abuse just kept coming after that, punches, kicks, and on occasion, the hard side of a baton rained down on Bucky, who couldn't do much more than raise his arms to protect his face. 

Bucky would be able to take both men bound on a normal day, no problem, but with the vibranium restraints and the amount of blood he was rapidly losing, he couldn't do much more than shield himself. A lucky shot to his leg, and he went down with a cry.

 "Get up." One of Bucky's tormentors ordered. Bucky struggled to his feet, leg retching at a wrong angle before a second blow to his abdomen sent him sprawling again. Bucky lay there gasping as the two goons circled.

 There was a beeping noise, and the tube moved a bit. "It's interesting, the properties of blood. One could say it's liquid life, wouldn't you agree?" The person holding the little machine crouched down to where Bucky lay. "A basic human has 4 liters of blood in them. With your unique bodily functions, I'm betting you have 6 liters. What do you think?" Bucky tried to prop himself up on shaking limbs but didn't answer. "I've taken three liters. That fatigue you're feeling, the dizziness, seeing double, is your body reaction to the lack of blood. At this point, you better pray my estimate is right. Or you're going to bleed out right here right now." The person clicked a button on the suction machine, and it whizzed to life again. The person put the end of the tube no longer attached to a bag into their hand, "Look at it." The red liquid pooled in their hand and overflowed onto the floor. "It's amazing." The person held it out for Bucky to see.

 "What- what do you want?" Bucky gasped, not looking at his blood in their hands or the growing pool flowing from the tube.

 "What I want, I already have." The person jolted forward and smeared blood all over Bucky's face in an almost violent fashion. Bucky gagged as he tried to move away with no success. "Now, all I want is to watch you die." The person snarled, punctuating their words with a sharp kick to Bucky's ribs as they rose. Something cracked, and Bucky gagged again. The person turned the tube at Bucky, and he was met with a face full of blood gushing all over him.

 "Why are you going through all this trouble for him? He can't even get up." One of the goons gestured to Bucky, who was slipping in the growing liquid trying to stand. 

"But if he could, you would not be." The disinterested voice from the beginning said coldly, "We do this so one day we do not end up dead also." 

"Preemptive strike." The camera person agrees, "For everyone." 

"Anyone who preemptively strikes," Bucky wheezes slowly now standing, "Does because if they don't, they're afraid they'll lose." 

"What did you just say?" The second thug steps back into view menacingly, "Why don't we find out?" The other thug joins him as they advance on Bucky.

 "Let's make it interesting." The person holding the suction machine says. With that, Bucky's restraints fall away. 

All three parties pauseed in surprise before Bucky swung hard and fast at the nearest guy with his left arm. There was a sickening crunch, and then the man dropped like a stone.

 The second man threw his full weight at Bucky, taking him to the floor. Throwing all his mass on Bucky's vibranium arm, he proceeded to start beating the life out of Bucky's face. Bucky's valiant attempted to wiggle out of the man's grasp when the first guy staggered over and pinned him down. Without a way to protect himself, the beatdown was brutal. "That's enough." The disinterested voice ordered. Both men got up, leaving Bucky wheezing on the ground. 

The person manning the medical equipment came over and detached the tubing, "He's ready." 

The two goons grabbed Bucky's arms and proceeded to half drag him through the pool of blood and over to a glass tank. 

"Look at that, finally compliant." The camera person sneered, focusing on Bucky's horridly battered face, "Anything to say for your friend?" 

Bucky's eyes were glazed and unfocused as his head flopped in the camera's general direction. The lack of blood was making him lag, but he could understand. "Don't come looking," He whisper-wheezed, "Don't."

 "Awww, how sentimental." The camera person sneered.

 The two goons shackled Bucky's hands behind his back and dumped him into the dry tank. The camera zoomed in on Bucky's face. There was a whirring sound, and the camera stopped moving.

 Then water began bubbling up from the grate on the bottom of the tank. It was filling rapidly, and panic flooded Bucky's face. He began struggling, but the plan was already in motion. They'd taken too much blood. He was too weak to break out of the glass cage even with adrenaline. The water was rapidly covering his chest as he struggled. 

Sam couldn't stop watching as much as he wanted to. He knew how this ended. But he still watched in horror as the water filled the rest of the tank, sloshing over the edges as Bucky struggled before finally going limp. 

Sam wanted to scream, to puke to cry, wanted this to be all one huge nightmare that he'd wake up from and then let himself be bullied into telling Bucky the next day. But this was real. There was no waking up, and there was no Bucky bullying him into telling him the truth. 

Sam stared at the darkened screen in numb shock for a long time. 

Bucky was dead. He wasn't coming back. 

Sam broke. 

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