[ it's worth a try, can't really be worse than what his therapist has him doing.
if he had any sort of objectivity regarding his own progress, maybe bucky could recognize that any minute he's not either curled up into a ball crying his eyes out, or on a murderous, vengeful, rampage, is a win. but he doesn't. all he's got is this anger, this hurt, this fear to sustain him, to keep him going, to keep him trying to prove something that he shouldn't have to prove.
it's exhausting. ]
Not that hungry.
[ he grunts in frustration as the door, once again, proves to be the wrong one. and of course sam knows what the right one is. because this sort of decked out kitchen, it's something he's seen before. avengers compound probably had the works.
he almost wants to give up the whole pretense of this night and -- and what? go back to sleep? that's not happening. he can't leave - there's a price on their heads, and as right as taking punishment feels, he's got a mission to accomplish, he can't tap out. what the hell other option does he have?
striding across the kitchen, bucky opens the next cabinet a little too excessively, and end up with the door in his hand. great. that's going to be a thing, now. with his back turned to sam, he tries to discreetly let out a breath, leans the door down against the floor - he can fix it later - and reaches for a glass. ]
no subject
if he had any sort of objectivity regarding his own progress, maybe bucky could recognize that any minute he's not either curled up into a ball crying his eyes out, or on a murderous, vengeful, rampage, is a win. but he doesn't. all he's got is this anger, this hurt, this fear to sustain him, to keep him going, to keep him trying to prove something that he shouldn't have to prove.
it's exhausting. ]
Not that hungry.
[ he grunts in frustration as the door, once again, proves to be the wrong one. and of course sam knows what the right one is. because this sort of decked out kitchen, it's something he's seen before. avengers compound probably had the works.
he almost wants to give up the whole pretense of this night and -- and what? go back to sleep? that's not happening. he can't leave - there's a price on their heads, and as right as taking punishment feels, he's got a mission to accomplish, he can't tap out. what the hell other option does he have?
striding across the kitchen, bucky opens the next cabinet a little too excessively, and end up with the door in his hand. great. that's going to be a thing, now. with his back turned to sam, he tries to discreetly let out a breath, leans the door down against the floor - he can fix it later - and reaches for a glass. ]