Like a whipped dog his shoulders sank. Maybe they were better off without him. Broken and whipped, he shuffled over to the dresser, pulled open one of his drawers, and pulled out one of the remaining white tee shirts. He hauled it over his head.
And even though he was exhausted, Bucky shuffled to the bedroom door. "I'm going to go for a walk." He didn't want to go back to sleep. He didn't want to have that dream again. He would have done anything to save this. But maybe there was nothing left to save.