the Winter Soldier running off of chemicals though
the modern medical marvel, the human machine -
jerked out of cryostasis with a hit of adrenaline, enough to open his eyes and start his heart racing, just enough for the monitors to read that he’s still alive, still useful
reenergized with amphetamines, kept awake for days and days until his mission is complete, hungry but awake, so wide awake that he can’t hear his target’s screams over his own crashing heartbeat
tormented with psychotropics, hallucinating faces he doesn’t remember while they fill his head with electricity and pick and chose the parts of him that are the most useful
rewarded with the slide of a needle into the crook his arm, the only time he doesn’t fight them because he’s learned that they’ll lock him up hungry if he doesn’t let them, the closest thing to bliss he knows being the times the doctors give him the barest minimum of nutrients that they explain will make him stronger
trapped inside a paralyzed body, powerless except to watch as they arrange him inside the chamber again, wide awake inside his head, his heart still beating, still racing and it’s so - cold -
