FicWad

Author's Note:
I am not a lawyer and have no understanding of any countries legal system including my own. This trial and the run-up will therefore probably have no bearing on the judicial system and for that I apologise. It is also why this is an AU fic (so basically I can get away with anything). As we know there are good prison systems and there are bad. What I write does not have any bearing on any jail or prison that I know of and is entirely fictitious. I only know one prison guard and he is a real sweetie. But as I said, for my story I need to go out in to the realms of AU so please bear with me.

And most of all please bear with James. He is going to need you.

*

James Buchanan 'Bucky' Barnes - AKA The Winter Soldier


“State your name for the record please.” The voice is steady, has asked the same question a million times and will ask it a million more times.

Jeremy Sands nods to James. Bucky clears his throat. “James Buchanan Barnes,” he replies.

“James Barnes. You are at this time charged with murder on twenty-seven counts. You are charged with treason on one count. You are charged with kidnapping on six counts. You are charged with.....” But Bucky finds it hard to take in what they are saying. The numbers are lower than he knows they should be - but Sands had explained they are only indicting him on crimes they can prove he committed.

“And how do you plead?”

He hesitates and Sands looks up at him, eyes widening. He knows how his client feels and for a moment he thinks Bucky is going to say “guilty” but then he hears the words not guilty and breathes a sigh of relief.

Jeremy Sands is a man of rare values - the Steve Rogers of the legal world. He believes that his client is not guilty and therefore he is determined to make the world realise that Bucky is a victim here as much as the people who were hurt and killed on the assignments he was sent on.

The only problem is it doesn't help when your client believes himself to be guilty.

The afternoon they came for him everyone around him panicked. They talked of getting him out of the country, hiding him, until in the end he held up a hand and told them to stop. He stood there, hand held up as if trying to make a barrier, trying to stop a flood.

“Stop. Just...stop!” Bucky's voice had been angry, tired. Then he repeated it and this time his voice was quieter and they could see the price he was going to be paying. “I need to do this. I am guilty, I did those things. I need to stand trial. I can't run away from this. I can't live like this any more.”

And they knew he was right.

Jeremy Sands had won him one more night at home. He was to surrender to his local police station in the morning and he did. He spent one last night with Freya and Steve and then, without telling them, he arranged with Tony and Sands to go with him to the station earlier than planned. Neither Steve nor Freya knew. On the way he had asked Tony to stop at a barbers and he had his hair cut as short as it had been the first day in the army.

He is now the spitting image of James Buchanan Barnes.

By the time Steve and Freya realised what he had done, he was already in police custody. He could not have them go with him, he could not have coped with saying goodbye.

Truth be told, he doesn't believe he will be coming back.

The District Attorney charged him, made arrangements for the arraignment, but there were other conditions Bucky had to agree to. Sands had tried to argue these by citing human rights clauses but this case is not normal, this prisoner is not normal, and there was no precedent to be set, nothing to compare it to. Sands knew they were lucky it was being handled by the District Attorney because the military had wanted to handle the matter behind closed doors. James would have disappeared into some military installation never to be seen again. Maybe this way, he has a chance.

But the District Attorney is going for the death penalty. It was made illegal in New York in 2007 - however, for this case it would be reinstated or punishment would be performed out of state. As they had said, there was no set precedent for a case such as this.

Application for bail is denied. Sands puts in an appeal anyway.

News had leaked straight away. When James had turned up at the police station somehow it was already known he was surrendering that morning. Luckily enough, because they went earlier than expected, there was only a small gathering of press and civilians. Even so he saw the signs. Heard the chanting when they realised he was there.

They had already decided he was guilty. That he should be hung, shot, burnt. The signs people carried were not easy to look at. So much hatred.

They booked him. Took his fingerprints. Took his photograph. Then came the bit he had had to agree to. At first they had wanted to remove his arm. Wanted to dissect him. Leave him crippled. Instead, a more sane plan was put forward. His arm was to be powered down and this is why Tony went with him. They could not remove the power supply but Bucky had already told Tony how to lower the power settings. Then, on the insistence of the prosecutor, the panel for adjustments to be made to the arm was welded shut. No one could power it back up. It now had the strength of his human arm - well, maybe a little less. The extra weight of the metal and circuitry is already making his shoulder ache, but he doesn't say a word.

They also tagged him just in case he should run. Run? Just where did they think he was going to run to? The whole world knew who he was by this time. Other countries and other governments were clamouring to have him extradited to stand trial for crimes he had committed within their own borders. The whole world seemed to be against him. The whole world seemed to hate him.

He surrendered his clothing and put on the orange jumpsuit. They insisted on manacles - not that they called them that, they refer to them simply as cuffs. He can no longer walk, it reduces his step to a shuffle. But still he does not say a word. Does not complain. Just accepts his fate.

He is taken to a prison van. Tony watches him go from a window. Jeremy Sands will return to his office. Tony watches as they attach the manacles to locks standing up proud from the van floor. Four prison guards will travel with him, and each of them has a gun, taser and nightstick. The doors of the van are closed.

“Jesus,” Tony closes his eyes, pinches the skin at the top of his nose.

What have I done? he thinks. What the fuck have I done?

*

The prison Bucky is to be kept in is one for serious offenders, lifers, people who will never make parole.

The warden and the guards run it as they see fit. The prisoners also run it as they see fit. Between them they seem to have a system that works.

The guards and the inmates have listened to the news, listened to the leaked information on the Russian assassin. No - not Russian – goddamn it, the American who defected. The American who betrayed his country. To them there is no worse crime; it is second only to paedophilia.

He is given supplies and then taken to his cell. He is marched through the prison, through the general population. Guards are on hand, ready to lock-down should there be any cause to. There are jeers, promises of pain. People spit at him; like the protesters outside the station, they have already decided his guilt – already decided his fate.

He appears to take no notice, just walks, shuffles to where they take him. Nearly trips on the stairs so the guards have to pick him up, pass him the supplies he dropped.

For the rest of the day they will lock him in his cell. He has one to himself for now. His lock-down is for his own safety.

Even so, locks can be picked.

It is just after midnight, the guards have done their rounds. Nothing is seen on camera if they are not there to watch.

Bucky is woken by a hand over his mouth. Or so they think. He was already awake, already knew trouble would come his way. He doesn't fight even though the Soldier in him rages for him to fight back. He deserves this, he deserves all the punishment he gets. They drag him out of the bed on to the cold concrete floor, nothing is said. He feels the fists that strike him in vulnerable places and he will piss blood in the morning. He feels the booted feet that kick and break his ribs. He feels the rod that breaks his nose and leaves him with two glorious black eyes. And he hears their warning.

“This is just the start, traitor.”

They leave him on the floor where they think he belongs and he struggles to get up and lie back on the mattress, his breathing hard. His clothes are torn but that is nothing compared to his body. He lies there quietly for a moment and then slowly turns his face to the wall, brings his knees up. The worse pain is in his chest because he knows he is now truly alone. In his head where the Soldier rages at him, calls him a coward he can feel such emotional pain. And he asks: Why? Why was he ever born? What did I do that was so wrong in a previous life? There is no reply; but there never is.

In the morning his door is unlocked and two unsympathetic guards drag him back down on to the floor.

“You're to stand up when we enter.” One runs his nightstick along Bucky's metal arm and then lifts it and hits him. “Stand up!” and Bucky struggles to his feet whilst they stand over him, giving him no personal space of his own. “Fell out of bed huh?” The guard is right up close and in his face. Spittle lands on his cheek. “I see we have an accident-prone one here,” he says to the other guard who laughs and nods.

It is amazing where some of Hydra's old cohorts and sympathisers have managed to hide and obtain jobs.

*

Just before midday he receives word he has a visitor – his lawyer. The first thing Sands does when he sees Bucky is swear. They have a screen separating them and can only talk over a phone connection.

“I fell,” Bucky says, shaking his head. He won't say any more about it.

Sands fills him in about what is happening. A date has been set for trial. The appeal for bail has been denied.

“Both Steve and Freya would like to visit,” Sands says but before he is even finished Bucky is shaking his head. Sands already knows his answer would be no. He will see no-one barring his lawyer. If it was up to Bucky he would already have been locked up and the key would have been thrown away.

Or, worse.

That evening for the first and only time Bucky fights back. It is the only time he will allow the Soldier to help. He is in the shower and he is expecting the attack. He will allow himself to be hurt but he will not accept rape.

Five men come for him whilst he is naked. He is stood under the water letting it run down his body, wishing it could clean his mind. He hears them approach and opens his eyes and looks at the group.

“Touch me and you will wish you were dead,” he says, his voice a low growl, the look in his eyes is a promise.

Two men, stupid enough to have got involved but clever enough to know a threat when they see one, leave.

Three men are left, all with shivs in their hands and grins on their faces. The traitor might be well-muscled, might be tough but he is also naked and unarmed. There are three of them and they can see the results of the nasty beating he took the previous night; the beating they had heard he never fought back on.

Later the warden is told there is no proof or indication that Barnes caused the injuries suffered by the three men; all of the wounds were caused by the mens' own hands and own weapons. The knives never left their grips. The first man has his blade buried deep within his back, his right arm is broken, surgery will be needed to remove the blade. The second man has his knife so far buried in his throat that although he will live he will have no larynx, no voice box. The third man, the leader, has his blade buried between his legs and will never think of rape again. There will be no need; he won't have anything left to have sex with.

They all remember what Barnes told them. “If anyone tries this again they will regret it.” Word goes around the prison. Accidents can happen to the traitor but if anyone tries anything sexual then their days are numbered. Battle lines have been drawn. This warning is for the guards as well as the prisoners.

He doesn't eat the first day because he feels so sick. He isn't surprised when the second day he lines up for food and before he is handed his food the man spits in it then hands it over, a wide grin on his face. Bucky's jaw tightens as the Soldier squares his shoulders, but Bucky reaches over to the man ahead of him whose tray is still on the counter and exchanges the meals. Then leaving them open-mouthed, he walks over to a table and sits down to eat.

Over the next few weeks he gets used to the prison's routine. He has had more accidents but no more sexual attacks in the showers. No-one speaks to him except to curse and spit at him. Out in the yard he jogs around the perimeter because he cannot bear the sitting still. His arm and shoulder are getting more and more painful with the weight of it. Each day he sees Sands but no one else. He tells Sands that he does not want Freya involved in the trial but he is told it is not his decision to make. It is the only time they argue.

There are television sets and radios in the prison but he does not watch or listen. The days are so slow, the nights worse. He ends up in the infirmary; ground glass in his food, something he was stupid not to expect. But then, how could he? It is amazing the ways a human being can come up with to make someone else's life a misery.

*

Some nights he is left to sleep and when he does his sleep is fitful, full of nightmares, memories; sometimes he doesn't even know which it is. Tonight though he is woken by another hand across his mouth. Normally now they don't mind if he makes a noise but tonight it is imperative no one else finds out what is happening until it is too late. He is pulled off the bed but onto his feet and before he can stop it his hands are tied behind his back with a leather belt, impossible to break with his left arm so incumbent.

There is no light in his cell but there is outside on the walkway and he is pulled towards that. Four men escort him. There are another two waiting outside.

There are no guards.

He hears someone calling from one of the cells.

“Hey man, watcha doin? Wha's goin' on? ” It is difficult to see out of the cell doors and some are still locked as they should be - but some are unlocked, the men standing outside them, quiet, no noise except for his struggles. They are there to watch.

Someone lands a blow in his stomach which causes him to double over. He hadn't been expecting it. Things are happening so fast. He stumbles but they don't let him fall.

Something is put over his neck, pulled tight and he realises it is a noose made from bed clothes; imperfect but it will do its job. Next thing he knows they are lifting him up and over the top of the walkway barrier.

And then they let go and he is dropping but his body comes to a sudden halt as the spare rope comes to the end of its tether and the thick loop around his neck tightens.

He can't breathe. He can't reach up to release himself from the noose. He tries to turn, tries anything he can but nothing will work. The men at the top of the walkway have ensured he is over enough space that no part of his body can connect with anything to use as a hoist. And all the time his breath is running out, his neck is being constricted and the restriction around his throat feels as if it is burning, it is so painful. He cannot swallow and he knows he is dying. His ears are humming, he can feel the blood as if it is rushing to his head whereas it is being trapped there. His body is swinging, he only has on a pair of shorts. His hair is wet with sweat and his body glistens as it swings back and forth, he is still struggling, but the struggles now are lessening, slowing. His airways are completely shut off. Please let me breathe, please God.

Then suddenly a siren goes off, loud, hurting everyone's ears and they can hear guards running to the wing. The people out of their cells retreat back inside, closing their doors. The men responsible for his lynching disappear back to theirs, doors slam shut but in every other cell inmates begin banging on the doors and shouting, wanting to know what is happening.

Bucky's eyes close. His struggles stop. He doesn't feel the hands pulling him in, doesn't feel the tip of the knife being levered between the material and his skin in the attempt to cut the home-made noose away. His body has wet itself. He cannot hear the voices around him yelling, asking questions, making suggestions. Finally someone who is banging hell out of his chest and giving mouth to mouth finally gets him to breathe again but only for his body to begin to fit.

*

It has been a long night and the warden of the prison reaches over and pours another black coffee, offers one to the prison doctor who accepts and sits down opposite him.

The warden is talking to the head guard. His voice is angry, and tired but there is a no-nonsense tone to it.

“The man almost died. What the hell were your men doing?” although it is a question he doesn't wait for an answer. “I want the entire shift suspended. All of them. I want their names. I also want a list of names of the lynch mob...I will not have this happening in my prison, do you understand!” his voice gets louder towards the end and he pulls out a hankie and mops his face.

The head guard was not on duty and has been pulled in from home. He wants to argue, to make an excuse but he doesn't have one. He knows he will also be suspended.

“Now get out!” The warden watches as he leaves.

“You know he may not of actually died, don't you?” the doctor asks, sipping his coffee and looking at his friend.

“Thats not the point and you damn well know it! They were trying to kill him, they didn't know it probably wouldn't have worked. He stopped breathing. If Barnes had been left hanging there for longer he could have died. For Gods sake they never actually said he was invincible! How am I supposed to know what...” and he stops and runs his hand through what little hair he has left. “All I know is he looked dead to me." He takes another drink wishing it was something stronger than coffee in the cup.

"What are his injuries?” he asks finally.

“Well he's at the hospital now and they're running scans and an MRI. I reckon there will be minor fractures to the spinal cord. He couldn't move when he finally came around from the fitting, bit his tongue which is why he was bleeding and foaming at the mouth. His neck is severely bruised all the way around and the skin is badly chafed. Probably have problems swallowing. His right arm was dislocated but they got that back in. I reckon torn muscles will be problem. Also seems to be some problems with the scarring around that left arm of his, the skin in places was stretched so badly it had split.”

“His face?” the warden had never seen the victim of a hanging before and was disturbed when he saw the marks on Barnes' face and his bloodshot eyes.

“Bruising and broken capillaries is all, shouldn't take to long too mend.”

The warden nods. “And they say this...serum is it...? That will help him recover?”

The doctor shrugs but then nods: “I guess so. Not a lot is known but it works more or less the same as the one they gave Steven Rogers during the Second World War.”

“So no long term after effects, I mean his spine and...”

“Well, physically he's going to be in a heck of a lot of pain once the feeling does come back. Don't know how he will do mentally, I mean, how do you feel when you've just had a noose tightened around your neck and then you're hung out to die? “ the doctor shrugs and then adds, “ You know I'm going to have to recommend he go into solitary don't you....for his own protection...I should have recommended it after the ground glass incident.”

“Yeah I know. Jeez, what a fuck up. I mean the guy's not even gone to trial yet.”

The doctor stands, drains the last of his coffee and puts his mug down. “Well, we're all supposed to be innocent until proven guilty but....” he puts on his jacket “I reckon theres not one county you could hold this trial in and find an unbiased jury so good luck on that one. Night, Pat.”

“Yeah, night Frank, thanks again...oh and let me know as soon as you hear something will ya.”

Pat nods and picking up his bag he leaves to go home.

*

Bucky lies in the bed in the hospital. There are two guards outside on the door and one inside the room, but not to stop him from leaving - they are there for his protection. The doctor has given him a list of his injuries, given him painkillers, but out of everything it is his throat that hurts the most. He can still feel the ligature around it, choking him. He may be temporarily paralysed from the waist down at the moment but he knows already the serum is working. He can feel its heat, can feel his bones knitting.

Sands visited not so long ago. He arrived at the hospital at the same time as the ambulance but Bucky was unconscious so only saw him to speak to several hours ago. The lawyer was beside himself with anger, almost spitting. He was actually going to file for a dismissal of charges but they both know that would not work and Bucky instructed him not to.

“You do and I'll change my plea to guilty.”

“What do you want? I can appeal for bail again?” Sands had asked and Bucky shook his head.

“I just want it to be over with. I wish....I wish now they had succeeded tonight, I wish they'd let me die.”

Sands left feeling useless, feeling that he was not going to be up to the task of proving this man's innocence. He had finally received an answer from the court today; they would not be allowing any of the new Hydra material to be used in Bucky's defence. Oh, they'll allow the mission reports, the District Attorney made sure those would be in there - but nothing else would be allowed, none of the films, very few of the files. He will have to rely on Freya's testimony and the prosecutor had already started in on destroying her character.

Freya Bowman a victim? No, she worked for Hydra all along. Didn't you know?

Bucky drifts in and out of sleep, sometimes waking himself up with his own murmuring. The prison guard inside the room is a different one to those who have been looking after him up to now. He helps him drink when he wakes because Bucky has trouble himself moving. Despite being paralysed from the waist down they have insisted that he be cuffed to the bed. Bucky lies there and wonders if there is any difference between now and when he was in the hands of Hydra and being experimented on. He is still chained, feared, considered guilty, so many people cannot be wrong. It must be what he deserves.

Sam has driven both Steve and Freya to the hospital but they are not allowed to see Bucky. They are not even allowed on the floor where they are holding him. Sam tries to cajole the people in charge of guarding him; yes they know who Steve Rogers is...but orders are orders and someone has already tried to kill Barnes tonight. Even Sam in his capacity as a psychological counsellor is not allowed to see Bucky.

The first time any of them will see him is in the court room when he is being tried. They will not be able to speak with him and he will rarely look at them. They will be shocked at how he looks. Leaning slightly to the side because of the weight of his left arm. Thin, almost gaunt, bruised, battered, shuffling because he will still be in cuffs. He will look so like the young Bucky Barnes that Steve will stop in his tracks as though he is looking at a ghost. To Freya he will look as if he has already given up, already accepted death, and that night and most nights after, Steve and Freya will sleep in the same bed together. Not for sex but for comfort; they are both too shattered by what they see as the loss of the man they both love and somehow they just cannot ever see him coming back.

They are so frightened for him neither can bear to be alone.

*

When James Barnes is led into the court his head is bowed, his gait a shuffle. Someone yells from the public gallery that he should be hanged. Too late they tried that, Bucky thinks to himself. The protester is quickly removed from the court.

Normally the defendant would sit next to his lawyer. But in this case Barnes is deemed to be to dangerous. Instead he is sat within a specially constructed glass enclosure over the other side of the court. The inside of the enclosure cannot be reached from within the court itself, only from an staircase outside the court room. At no time would he be able to come within any distance of anyone in the court. He is totally cut off. The glass is bullet proof. There are two guards sat in with him, one just outside. They are armed with both tasers and guns. There is a sound system so he can hear everything that is said and when necessary they will be able to hear him. It has not yet been decided if when he is due to give testimony he will do so from the enclosure, or be allowed to sit within the witness box.

Freya and Steve are sat in the seats behind Sands. Bucky is asked to stand and give his name. He does. For the first time he looks around the room and he sees them. He feels unwell, he feels as if he is underwater, and seeing his friends make it worse. Sam is with them and even Nat. Steve nods and after a moment's hesitation Bucky nods back.

Then their attention is pulled away as the presiding judge enters and the court is called to attention.

The trial begins.