ʙᴀʀɴᴇs (wintertime) wrote in thecityof, @ 2018-01-02 07:59:00 |
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Something was beginning to brew in the city, bubbling slightly before the full-out boiling, but Bucky didn't know what. He also didn't want anything to do with it. Not that the somber, oppressive sort of mood would stop him from venturing out, however - he wouldn't do well cooped up in his apartment all day, watching the world pass by. He knew he had to get out there and do things - it helped him to make lists, chores and tasks, and then check them off one by one. These were good things - laundry, buy groceries, run to the hardware store - and very mundane things, but doing them helped. They gave him focus. Anything that gave him focus helped - that meant he wasn't hurting anyone. One item on his list today was to go shopping and see if he could find a better Christmas gift for Kate than a teddy bear - he hadn't known what to get her, since giving (and receiving) gifts was an idea he was so unaccustomed to now, he'd forgotten how to shop for someone. She seemed to like it though, the bear he'd picked up from a card store - though in that store, he'd read every single card because he was curious about what they said on the inside (like the communion cards, the uncle's birthday cards, the anniversary cards, how could two people be married for fifty years?). Maybe he should go with jewelry now, something that sparkled - it was what drew him to an antique shop that had a necklace with a purple gemstone right there in the window. She seemed to like purple, right? It was a nice color. A calming balance between blue and red. Purple like plums, like wine. He wanted to get something better, something nice, because he didn't have many other friends in the city and they were friends, weren't they? Decision made, he went into the store and came back out carrying a velvet box inside a small plastic bag. Something was off, though. His senses prickled as he was being followed - he knew that sometimes, the worst monsters hid their evil effectively. Like a snake covered with leaves. They watched and waited, and then they struck. This one struck and made it count. The skin the demon was wearing looked human, but the eyes that were all black, hollow pupils spoke otherwise. Bucky fought because that was what he had been trained to do - he had been trained to build up basically suicidal endurance, to keep going no matter what, to not make a sound even if it hurt and he was getting the crap kicked out of him. It did hurt, it felt like pain searing through him better than a branding iron would - something that wasn't sharp like a needle would be, but instead burned around where his heart was like boiling water. Fingers rooted around in his chest until the agony ceased, and Bucky stumbled back - only to witness his attacker run off with renewed strength and vigor. He was stunned for a moment, but there wasn't anything else. No emotion, nothing but calm and stillness. The Winter Soldier wasn't in any particular hurry - he didn't care about anything. His missions weren't meant to be personal, they were just supposed to get done. Nothing was personal. Not anymore. So he continued on, waiting for the orders to come. They would come. They always did. |