Bucky Barnes (bleedtowin) wrote in districtmarvel, @ 2016-01-22 00:27:00 |
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Entry tags: | bucky barnes, sam wilson |
Who: Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson
What: Narrative and a Voice Mail
When: Too late in the evening to catch Sam, after the awkwardest of awkward discussions with Peggy.
Bucky spent the day hungover in his room, a cow-kitten on his chest and the lights low. He didn't really sleep, he just powered down, trying to not think and failing miserably, so just giving in and dwelling.
He scrolled through the texts on his phone a half dozen times. (Fuck, he'd been wasted when he was texting Loki. But Loki had been weirdly gentle with him. It almost looked like he'd been close to coming to pick Bucky up out of a puddle if he needed it, which Bucky had no idea why that would be something Loki cared about.) He never should have texted Loki, but Bucky couldn't be moved to worry about it. Loki hadn't even seemed bothered.
And he knew fuck all what to feel about Peggy. Guilty, regretful, resentful about the idea and then guilty again over that because it was Peggy's guy she was telling him to go tell he loved him and ask to fake a romance with. She shouldn't have to do that. Steve shouldn't have to do that. Bucky should have just been able to ... switch off how he felt. It wasn't like he'd ever even talked about it or admitted it, until Barton said something. And Bucky liked Peggy. He wanted to do what made her happy, and this - no matter how it shook out, it wasn't going to do that. She'd gotten a lemon of a first Victor.
But he'd never really wanted to turn it off, either. Bucky had just wanted to hold on to it, and keep it locked up. Like the books on his shelf - stolen and his. A little part of himself that was still real, because it'd been there before - he just hadn't known what it was entirely before everything changed. He was going to do it, Bucky already knew that. Peggy asked, and she deserved whatever she wanted, considering. And if it might help, if there was even some stupid outside shot of it doing any good - Bucky would do it. He'd always do it for that.
It was just hard to think about, and it hurt. Everything hurt. He couldn't talk to anyone. His sister hated him, his mother wasn't really there. Steve was the problem, Natasha he'd backed into a corner and never known it and she was Victor. She had her own problems, and Bucky never again wanted to put her in a place where she thought she had to talk to him when she didn't really want to. Barton was a Victor and he had the same problem, but had never been able to keep it secret. Tony and him weren't talking, and even if he was probably safe, he was still a Victor too, still about to watch all his friends go back and be left behind.
Like Bucky was supposed to.
In the end, Bucky called Sam. He didn't know why, he just wanted to tell someone, and Sam had always said he could call. Maybe it was stupid, but there wasn't any more damage Bucky could do left. He'd waited too long though by then, time having gotten muddled somewhere in the dim of the room. It was well past midnight when he called and it went to message. Bucky almost just hung up, but Sam would see he'd called and then he'd think Bucky hadn't been capable of leaving a message, maybe. So he just blurted.
Hi ... sorry. I didn't know it was this late. Stupid to call. This is Bucky. I just ... Maybe we could talk. Sometime. Not ... official ... there's ... fuck. Sorry. Just sometime. You saw too. Everyone did. Bucky hung up and dropped the phone on the nightstand as Moo pushed her face into his nose. "Guess it's past your dinnertime, huh?" he asked her. She mewed in answer and Bucky hugged her to his neck for a second before obliging her and getting up to go feed her.