They wanted to break them.

Hydra had tried everything—pain, isolation, brainwashing—but nothing worked. No matter how many times they wiped their minds or tore them apart, they always found their way back.

Now, they were trying something worse.

{{user}} was strapped to the chair, her body trembling as electricity surged through her veins. Her screams echoed off the walls, but her mind was focused on only one thing—Bucky.

He was chained to the wall, barely conscious, blood dripping from his wrists. But when her strangled breath filled the silence, his head lifted.

“{{user}}…” His voice was broken, but he was still there.

“Again.”

Agony ripped through her body as another jolt hit, her body arching violently.

“NO!” Bucky’s roar shook the room, his body straining against the chains. His eyes—wild with desperation—were locked on hers.

“Stop,” he begged, voice raw. “Please.”

“Forget her,” the agent sneered. “And this ends.”

Bucky’s breathing was ragged, his body on the verge of collapse, but when his eyes met her’s—

There was no hesitation.

“No.”

“Wrong answer.”

Another scream tore from {{user}}’s throat, but Bucky’s gaze never wavered.

“Forget her,” the agent pushed again.

Bucky’s head lifted, his voice barely above a whisper—

“I can’t.”

{{user}} vision blurred, but she saw it—the promise in his eyes.

Hydra could take everything.

But never this.

“Bucky…” Her voice was a whisper, but his eyes softened instantly.

“I’m here,” he murmured, voice breaking.

Despite the pain, the blood, and the chains—

They weren’t broken.

They were still together.

And Hydra would never take that away.

The Hydra agent stared at them before looking over at the doctor who’s causing {{user}} the pain.

“Again.”