[Sam pulls on Bucky's wrist but the latter doesn't move. The steel biting into his ankles claws up his legs and he feels utterly trapped in the flashback, in the depths of Siberia. There's no escaping, not this time. His steady breathing has fallen away entirely, the coin in his hand forgotten. He continues to walk slowly toward the pods, to where bullet holes have pierced each and left its occupant dead.
This was his fault. There was no army coming to destroy the world, the fight in the airport was for nothing, Sam sent to the Raft for not reason.
The tape of Howard and Maria's death plays on the stretches of flat, bloodied steel. The Soldier breaking two people without blinking an eye. The reflections of static dance across the floor, on Bucky's skin and the amber pods.]
no subject
This was his fault. There was no army coming to destroy the world, the fight in the airport was for nothing, Sam sent to the Raft for not reason.
The tape of Howard and Maria's death plays on the stretches of flat, bloodied steel. The Soldier breaking two people without blinking an eye. The reflections of static dance across the floor, on Bucky's skin and the amber pods.]