(no subject)

[wintern]

Her dreams, her memories... they're getting worse. Where before, she remembered fragments - an alley, a bright bloom of blood on someone's chest, a scream - images, mostly detached from anything too intense. But they're longer, harder to tell from reality. Instead of quick flashes, she's getting lost in them, forgetting where she is for minutes at a time before her past deposits her back into the present.

It's terrifying. Terror is not a feeling she's supposed to have context for. She thinks, for the first time in weeks, that she really is just breaking down, fracturing without Hydra to fit the pieces of her mind back together into their mold.

The third time it happens is worse than anything before. She's keeping an eye on Wilson, hidden comfortably in a crowd, and someone puts their hand on her shoulder, and she's just not there anymore. She's in a room instead, brightly lit in a way that makes her head hurt to see, and someone's gripping her shoulders, holding her in place. She's terrified, she knows what's coming and it hurts and words keep falling out of her mouth, words like no and please over and over again, a mantra that doesn't do her any good because they strap her down anyway and give her another injection.

- And then she's in the crowd again, people with their hands on her, asking if she's all right, saying they've called 911 and can she breathe okay? She just tears through them, shaking and lost and barely holding onto her knowledge of where she is (2014, it's 2014 and she is not the Winter Soldier, not Hydra's test subject anymore).

Comments

[imfollowinghim]

The thing is? She doesn't have to. She could still be the confused, desperately broken person who'd first broken into his apartment and almost seemed like she was planning on beating his face in again, and he'd still want to be here right now helping her. Even if it meant winding up in the hospital again, but man, he is definitely glad it doesn't look like that's going to happen.

So Bucky smiles, and it's a little frayed around the edges and his eyes are still a little wet, but. It's a smile. He doesn't let go when she pulls away, but his grip's gentler, like he's trying not to make her feel trapped.

"Hey. You back with us?"

[wintern]

She stays still, doesn't try to run away. There's nowhere to run to, no one she'd rather be with right now. "I remembered. Some of what they..." Her voice trails off, flat and far away, without finishing the sentence. She's still shivering even though it's perfectly warm out, but she breathes in and out through it.

[imfollowinghim]

Something clenches in his chest, because he's read the files, he's seen some of the equipment they'd used to brainwash her, and he can imagine how awful it was, but that's just it: he can imagine, he didn't live through it. And it kills him that he wasn't there to protect her from this.

He never should have left. If he'd just stayed home to keep watching her back, none of this would've happened. They could have lived a totally normal life.

He lets go long enough to take off his jacket and drape it over her shoulders, something he's done a million times before what feels like a lifetime ago.

"You want to go somewhere to talk? Or just-" He glances back over his shoulder to check on the crowd, and winds up making eye contact with Sam, who looks worried, but like he's got stuff under control. God, where would he even be without him? "Somewhere quiet?"

[wintern]

She gives a stiff nod and absently tugs his jacket closer around her shoulders, another familiar gesture she doesn't quite remember. She doesn't want to talk about it, not really; it's still too raw and new, and she's half-terrified just talking about it in any detail will bring it all crashing back again.

But she desperately does not want to leave his side even if he expects her to explain herself to him, so she just nods and stumbles against him a little as all the panicked energy she had minutes ago dissipates, leaving her uncoordinated and exhausted.

[imfollowinghim]

Bucky puts an arm around her again, and even though the angles are all different now that she's not way shorter than him, it still feels normal, right, like he's actually home for the first time in seventy years. He's here if she needs to lean on him, or to hang on to him, hell, he'd carry her wherever she wanted to go. He's not going anywhere unless she wants him too.

With one last look passed between him and Sam, Bucky carefully guides Steph away from the dissipating crowd of curious and concerned onlookers, trying to walk calmly and let her pick the pace of their retreat. He's not entirely sure of where they're going, but anywhere's better than here. There's a park nearby, which seems good enough if they're looking for somewhere to sit down and talk, or not talk, so he vaguely starts heading in that direction.