Bucky Barnes (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
imfollowinghim) wrote2014-05-14 06:14 pm
imfollowinghim) wrote2014-05-14 06:14 pm
four ✪ spam & audio
[Open Spam]
[Bucky wakes up in his room feeling good. Great, even. Like himself again, and it's once he makes that realization - that he wasn't himself - that a lot of anger floods in, settles itself in his chest, and he's up and out of bed in an instant, needing to do something.
So instead of heading to the dining hall or the library, he goes right to the gym to beat the hell out of a punching bag until his hands are bloody, the firing range even if the targets aren't a challenge for him at all and the CES to go for a run until he's sweaty and out of breath. (The last one takes a while. Like, longer than it probably should, beyond just feeling physically fine after getting sucked through the door.) He's still wearing his uniform, and might have visible weapons on him on the run. In the gym, he's stripped down to a white t-shirt with the SSR logo on it, and the gun's nowhere in sight.
Eventually, he sheepishly wanders into the infirmary to clean up his hands, and then heads back to his room, fully intending on collapsing on the bottom bunk and just. Staring a hole in the mattress above him until he feels like actually sleeping.
Or, you know, a cat pretending to be a transgenic might have broken in while he was out, but regardless.]
[Public Audio]
[Later, Bucky clicks on the comm, takes a breath to say something, and then... hesitates. Because fuck if he knows what to say. He knows logically that it wasn't his fault, that it wasn't him, but he still feels like he needs to apologize, or say something about what happened.]
I'm sorry. I know that's not- I know he wasn't-
[He can't explain. Doesn't want to explain, doesn't feel like he should have to explain why he'd never want to work for the people who'd tortured and experimented on him, who've killed more good men (and probably women and kids, too, it's not like they'd had morals) than anyone's ever going to be able to count, but he still tries to grate out an answer.]
Look, [And he sounds exhausted and mad as hell all at once, but tries to force it into something else so he can explain, because he knows by now that a lot of you are going to have no idea what he's talking about.]
Where I'm from, HYDRA was the Nazi deep science division, before their boss basically decided Hitler and his pals were taking too damn long to take over the world and went rogue. I spent the last year trying to stop them and the Nazis with [Steve, fuck he misses him, but he's fiercely, selfishly glad he's not here right now anyway.] Cap and the Commandos. I'd cut my damn arm off before I'd ever work for them.
[... Probably not the best thing to say, considering how he'd showed up here. But there it is. They're the whole reason he's here - if that HYDRA goon hadn't gotten back up and fired on them, he wouldn't have gotten blown out of the train and died.]
I know how dumb this sounds. Believe me, I do, because it sounds like something out of a comic book, but it's what happened, and I'd still be back there taking them down if I hadn't gotten killed.
This is bullshit.
[Bucky wakes up in his room feeling good. Great, even. Like himself again, and it's once he makes that realization - that he wasn't himself - that a lot of anger floods in, settles itself in his chest, and he's up and out of bed in an instant, needing to do something.
So instead of heading to the dining hall or the library, he goes right to the gym to beat the hell out of a punching bag until his hands are bloody, the firing range even if the targets aren't a challenge for him at all and the CES to go for a run until he's sweaty and out of breath. (The last one takes a while. Like, longer than it probably should, beyond just feeling physically fine after getting sucked through the door.) He's still wearing his uniform, and might have visible weapons on him on the run. In the gym, he's stripped down to a white t-shirt with the SSR logo on it, and the gun's nowhere in sight.
Eventually, he sheepishly wanders into the infirmary to clean up his hands, and then heads back to his room, fully intending on collapsing on the bottom bunk and just. Staring a hole in the mattress above him until he feels like actually sleeping.
Or, you know, a cat pretending to be a transgenic might have broken in while he was out, but regardless.]
[Public Audio]
[Later, Bucky clicks on the comm, takes a breath to say something, and then... hesitates. Because fuck if he knows what to say. He knows logically that it wasn't his fault, that it wasn't him, but he still feels like he needs to apologize, or say something about what happened.]
I'm sorry. I know that's not- I know he wasn't-
[He can't explain. Doesn't want to explain, doesn't feel like he should have to explain why he'd never want to work for the people who'd tortured and experimented on him, who've killed more good men (and probably women and kids, too, it's not like they'd had morals) than anyone's ever going to be able to count, but he still tries to grate out an answer.]
Look, [And he sounds exhausted and mad as hell all at once, but tries to force it into something else so he can explain, because he knows by now that a lot of you are going to have no idea what he's talking about.]
Where I'm from, HYDRA was the Nazi deep science division, before their boss basically decided Hitler and his pals were taking too damn long to take over the world and went rogue. I spent the last year trying to stop them and the Nazis with [Steve, fuck he misses him, but he's fiercely, selfishly glad he's not here right now anyway.] Cap and the Commandos. I'd cut my damn arm off before I'd ever work for them.
[... Probably not the best thing to say, considering how he'd showed up here. But there it is. They're the whole reason he's here - if that HYDRA goon hadn't gotten back up and fired on them, he wouldn't have gotten blown out of the train and died.]
I know how dumb this sounds. Believe me, I do, because it sounds like something out of a comic book, but it's what happened, and I'd still be back there taking them down if I hadn't gotten killed.
This is bullshit.
Private -- Audio
You weren't yourself. This isn't the first time something like this has happened. Don't -- [Yeah, it's hard for him to tell anyone not to stress out over what they'd done under these circumstances, because he's still stressed out over what went on back home. The things that had brought him to the Barge in the first place. He gets it.]
It wasn't you. And I know that doesn't mean a lot right now, but hopefully it will at some point.
Private -- Audio
[He knows. He knows it wasn't him, that it wasn't his fault, that it's stupid to hang onto it, but he also knows it's going to take a little while for him to just shove all of this back into a corner of his mind where he can ignore it.
He just wishes it wasn't.]
I'm fine.
You make it out okay?
Private -- Audio
Depends on your definition of okay, I guess. I'm not death tolling or anything.
Private -- Audio
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It's lousy, but it works.
[He might not remember the details, but he knows he's died here before.]
Private -- Audio
It sounds like you know from experience.
[Which kind of confuses him because he thought Bucky was new to the Barge. Like newer than Stiles.]
Private -- Audio
[Don't worry, Stiles, it confuses him too, especially because most of the memories are centered around Ben, and not much else. It means he's lacking a lot of context.]
I was here before, a long time ago. I don't remember a lot of it.
Private -- Audio
[Yeah, that's...unexpected. He hasn't heard anything about Bucky being there before this time.]
At least we know it works.
Private -- Audio
[This whole sitting around not doing anything thing is not. Working out so great for him.]
Private -- Audio
I wouldn't turn down coffee.
Private -- Audio
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