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astro-rain · 3 years

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delicate; b.barnes

chapter six - “lake, the sequel”

delicate masterlist

word count: 1.7k

synopsis: reader seeks out bucky after his dramatic exit and they find themselves earnestly conversing... back at the lake

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

[A/N]: this story is available on my wattpad as a bucky x OC fic @ / typicaldaze :)

He didn't like this feeling. No, he didn't like this feeling at all. He hated it, in fact. It was betrayal, bodily betrayal. He just could not sit in that room any longer or he would've peeled his skin off. His lungs felt as if they were bound with barbed wire and the state of his stomach had him worried he was going to throw up. Most of all he felt guilty. How could he have just stormed out of the room like that? She was going to hate him now. How could he let this happen?

He was thinking this over whilst sitting at the lake, hands in the grass, trying to distract the physical body from the mental cacophony he had just endured. He had somehow found his way there after leaving Y/N. These extremely unpleasant sensations were unfamiliar. Was he sick? Could he have been drugged? He was so confused. Bucky realized he seemed to be confused most of the time. Following that realization, he became mildly pissed off.

The super soldier stared out at the lake. It was a calm day, the water tranquil and clear. It was a stark contrast against his stress. He leaned forward and looked into the water at his reflection.

"Damn," he said out loud.

Is that really what I look like now?

His eyes traced over the long shaggy hair, dark under eyes, and the subtle but noticeable worry lines. This sight reminded him of when he broke the mirror at his old place in Bucharest. Now he remembered why. God, he looked as fucked up as he was. He leaned back and tossed a stone at where his reflection had been.

A deep sigh left his lungs, which were now conveniently working properly.

"Fuckers," he muttered, referring to the mercurial organs.

He had spent nearly two years alone in Bucharest, and he had grown accustomed to living in this new body. He was always on edge, that much he could tell. However, he was never too introspective; he never thought about his feelings or his behavior. All he was focused on was surviving. When there is more to life than survival, that's when things get complicated... not that they weren't complicated before. God, he was running in circles inside his own mind. His scarred and ruined and manipulated mind that resided in this body that was used as a tool for destruction and violence and death-

"Hey."

His head whipped around, startled out of his thought frenzy. Always on edge. Mentally, he shook his head in disappointment.

"Oh! (Y/N)!"

He stood up immediately. "Listen, I'm so sorry about before, I don't know what-"

"It's okay," she said quickly, holding up her hands. "Bucky, you do not need to apologize, everything is totally fine."

He was taken aback. Words didn't seem to work.

"I'm not mad if that's what you were thinking," she said.

"You're not?"

"No, of course not. If anything I was worried."

"I- Worried?"

"Yes, you were clearly in distress, and that room was the last place you wanted to be. I'm glad you found your way back here because you look much better now," (Y/N) explained with earnest eyes.

She could tell he was freaked out? She probably thinks he's insane.

"Yeah, I... I think I'm better now."

He was far from okay, but definitely better than before.

The psychologist sat down next to where he was standing. He didn't move, but looked down at her.

"I don't think it'd be wise to leave you alone here considering you're supposed to be in a session with me right now and you can't go anywhere without an escort. It would most likely lead to suspicion and then trouble you don't need. I'm going to stay with you. We can continue the session if you'd like, but if not we can just sit."

She said this all while looking straight forward at the water.

In all honesty he wasn't sure what to say, so he settled with a breathy, "Okay," before sitting down next to her.

"I'm getting the vibe that this is more of a just sit situation..."

"Yeah... I think I'm all therapy-ed out for today," Bucky said in a meek attempt at a joke.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a wide smile. He then realized that she didn't know he could see it, and that's why this smile seemed different. Most differents in Bucky's life hadn't been outstandingly pleasant. But this was a welcome different. This was a good different. It was genuine and unbridled. That was the most open he'd ever seen her.

Every now and then he forgot that he was a literal trained super spy. He may not have any PhD's, but he had his own way of reading behavior, cues, and subtleties. Perhaps he'd make an effort to be more observant. Perhaps he wanted to learn a little more about what else was behind this new different.

A few beats of comfortable silence passed before he heard the word again.

"Hey," (Y/N) started softly. "I'm sorry if I went a little too far today. I know I said our first session wouldn't be much, but I realize I was pushing too far."

"Oh, it's okay," Bucky replied, looking down at the grass between his knees. "I think it's more my fault anyway. It's not like the questions were super intense."

He let out a loaded sigh. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Bucky it's really okay. If it's anyone's fault it's mine. This whole process is supposed to be based on your comfort levels and at your own pace. And there's nothing wrong with you. Your reaction was completely normal given the circumstances."

Bucky wasn't terribly familiar with reassurance. He turned his head, looking at her dead on. She was so genuine, like she knew all of what she was saying was the all encompassing truth.

Echoes of different combinations of "there's nothing wrong with you" and "completely normal" and "your own pace" flitted around inside him until they melted into a feeling he hadn't felt in so long: hope. It was horrifying... yet it gave him a kind of relief he didn't know he could feel.

The super soldier then realized that (Y/N) was looking right back at him dead on. He was about to stumble through some sort of apology for staring or thankful expression for her kindness, but he noticed that she didn't look like she was necessarily waiting for a response. She was just... looking.

Bucky tried to say something, anything. But he just couldn't seem to pull his eyes away. In this brief moment, he felt crystallized. His conscious, logical brain was somewhere far away, hypnotized by the stillness of the moment. It was only a few seconds, but somehow felt longer. These very few seconds of mental sedation were soon over.

Speak, idiot.

He snapped back to reality, suddenly finding himself inspecting at the grass below him.

"Thank you."

"Of course," she replied without missing a beat. Her tone of voice was water soft.

"(Y/N), do you... do you know what happened with me earlier?" he asked, cautiously. "Like, what was wrong- I mean, not wrong but why I-"

He sighed frustratingly, cutting himself off.

Her face was patient, but she was waiting for a description of something he didn't know how to describe.

"I know I said we were done for today, but I-I don't know how to explain it, and I want to know what it is," he confessed.

"I think you had an anxiety attack."

Anxiety? That couldn't be right. There's no way that could've been from being nervous.

"What?" he asked incredulously.

"Anxiety. It seemed as though you were experiencing high amounts of anxiety. Most people get nervous at times, but those tiny amounts are normal. But, some other people are a lot more nervous a lot more of the time. Sometimes, these peoples' anxiety can get particularly high and be so overwhelming that their body kinda takes over, and they can experience really uncomfortable physical symptoms, and this can turn into an anxiety attack."

"I thought I was... sick or... or drugged or something."

"Well, I'm almost certain you weren't drugged, and I'm pretty sure you can't even get sick."

"Oh."

He honestly didn't know what to say.

"Bucky," she looked straight at him again and he almost felt himself slipping. "In terms of psychology, a lot has progressed since the 40's. I'm not sure how anxiety was presented or studied then, but there's really a lot more to it than people think. And honestly, given your situation, it would be strange if you didn't develop an anxiety disorder."

Anxiety disorder?

"Anxiety disorder? I have that?"

"Well, again, I think we have to do more work to confirm, but that's what it seems like."

"I thought you said I had PTSD?"

"I do. I think you have both."

Christ.

"Wow, I'm a whole sack 'a problems, aren't I?" he chuckled, giving up on trying to internally oppose his short comings.

"You're not a problem, Buck. You had to deal with a whole sack of problems, though," she smiled.

The nickname didn't miss his radar. Was that the first time she's called him that? He ignored how he liked it.

"That's for damn sure."

They conversed for a while after that, and didn't seem to notice how late it was until the sun began to set. The ending day's reflection on the water created an aura so relaxing Bucky didn't want to move. But alas, reality calls.

(Y/N) stood up. "If you're not back soon, they'll start looking for you. We should probably get going."

Bucky stood up, too, following her request.

"I'll walk you back to your quarters," she offered.

And so they went, conversation continuing naturally, as if they were old friends. Bucky found it strange that someone he knew so little was so easy to talk to. He brushed it off as some inherent therapist quality.

He still found her hard to read although he knew her more with each passing word between them.

Despite all of this, the walk back, with cool air, a melting sky, and languid steps, was the best thing he had experienced since coming out of cryo. His memory may be spotty, and his mind may be rough, but this, this he was sure of.

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megacircuit9universe · 4 years

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Uprising

SAT JUN 06 2020

Since I last wrote, the George Floyd protests that began in Minneapolis, and spread to other major US cities over many nights, has now turned into nothing less than a new civil rights movement, in 2020 going under the banner of, “Black Lives Matter,” which began as a hashtag in 2013 after the shooting of Trayvon Martin... and which was subsequently shouted down by two counter movements, “all lives matter,” and “blue lives matter.”

BLM had inspired some demonstrations in the 20-teens, but remained mostly a social media movement, occasionally getting some mainstream press.

At the time of my last entry, as I said, the protests were about George Floyd, and holding the four officers responsible for his death accountable. And there was progress when all four officers were not only fired, but arrested and charged, with varying degrees of murder or manslaughter.

But because these charges took so long to materialize, the anger of the crowds did not immediately evaporate. Protests continued, and continued to filter down to the smaller towns in every state... even as they grew bigger in Washington DC outside the White House.

Trump actually holed up in the bunker beneath the white house for a night or two, with all the lights off above decks, while men outside worked day and night to build a wall around the compound.

But, he was criticized for this massive act of cowardice in the media, and was given the nick name, “Bunker Boy,” which enraged him.

So... on Monday, June 1st, after giving a blood curdling speech about how all the protesters were basically terrorists, and how, if governors did not dominate them, he’d send in the military to do so for them... he unleashed a small army of law enforcement and paramilitary goons on Lafayette square, in the middle of the afternoon (broad daylight once again), hours before curfew, to brutalize and drive back the crowds so that he could walk across the square to Saint John’s Church for an unplanned and pointless photo op, in which he held up a Bible, weirdly, saying nothing.

Amazingly, that Bible did not burst into flames in his hand... which speaks to Yaweh’s restraint... though word is he did strike two national guardsmen with lightning just tonight.

The peaceful, law abiding protesters were gassed, pepper sprayed, beaten back by officers with shields and batons, and further intimidated not only by a cavalry of officers on horseback, but also by and extremely low hovering army helicopter, which could easily have crashed and burned at such a low elevation with so many obstacles like trees and power lines nearby.

Last entry, I had said that Trump and his junta were too shy to go full dictator, but this act, last Monday, demonstrated to the nation and the world, that, in his mind at least, full dictator is not off the table.

This move, on Trump’s part, was met with shock and horror on all sides, and lead to General Mattis, his former National Security Secretary, who resigned late last year, to publish a scathing op-ed, in which he not only called Trump a threat to the constitution and democracy, but reminded the US military they... need to not be taking unconstitutional orders from this ass hole.

His words were praised and echoed by many on the right, and many more on the left who normally don’t like to agree with Mad Dog Mattis.

Joe Biden’s numbers rose in the election polls, in all swing states, and turned a few solidly red states into swing states... just as Allan Lichtman’s keys would seem to have predicted.

And lastly, Trump’s dictatorial stunt, crystallized the protest movement into the full blown, new civil rights movement that it’s become today. The Black Lives Matter movement is now stronger, more organized, and more determined than ever to fight for systemic change.

It’s more than just George Floyd and four guilty officers now. This is about systemic racism, police brutality, and anti-fascism.

(It’s also secondarily about the wealth gap and the total failure of those in power to keep us all comfortable enough not to bother taking to the streets.)

Rather than backing down, people all over the country are going out in greater numbers... better prepared for the attacks of the police. And armed with their smart phones, videotaping events live, and streaming them to the cloud for the world to see in real time.

They are exposing the fact that most of the fires and property damage, such as broken storefront windows, are being done by the cops themselves... as helped along by white nationalist citizens trying to blend into the crowd to cause mayhem (shades of kristallnacht, but for two weeks and counting).

Much of the looting too, is being done by opportunists who are traveling long distances to exploit the mayhem in local municipalities they’ve never visited before in their lives, much less reside in.

Peaceful protesters are getting much more savvy, not only about exposing these bad players on video, but sussing them out before they can strike. And they’re getting more savvy about protecting themselves, with padded motorcycle jackets, goggles and other measures to mitigate teargas and pepper spray, bluetooth devices, scouts and lookouts to maintain situational awareness.

It’s definitely worth noting here that all the 2nd Amendment nuts, who for decades have justified their right to bear arms citing exactly the scenario we are now seeing, in which the government becomes tyrannical... are nowhere to be found in this confrontation. They, in fact, are siding with the fascists in power... because... racism.

Back to the BLM movement...

BLM has now (thanks to Trump) passed the tipping point at which it can be put down by force. Too many people are involved, and they have too much support, both at home and abroad (78% support domestically, as gauged yesterday).

To put it another way... the effort now required by those in power to quash this movement, is too drastic to be practical.

Why? Well, they are desperately clinging to a stock market bubble right now... which is being inflated by optimistic speculation in the face of all that’s beset the nation... that everything will get back to normal in a year.

Killing protesters, or disappearing them is out of the question... it will only bring more unrest. Confiscating smart phones, in order to quash the videos of police wrongdoing... out of the question, because smart phones are economic tools used to make purchases, view ads, pay bills, etc.

Internet black outs... out of the question, for the same reason.

Anything that threatens to pop that delicate stock market bubble is instant death for Trump and his junta.

And even if they don’t pop that bubble... every day the BLM movement gains more steam... with people out of work, out of money, stuck at home because no progress has been made with virus testing and contact tracing... the junta still moves ever closer to the end of their reign.

Talk now is not only that Biden’s numbers are climbing... but that Republican control of the Senate is also on the chopping block this November.

People have not forgotten who impeached this guy last November... warning us about the danger he posed... and who blocked his removal from office back then, just before Covid19 reared it’s ugly head in China.

Who voted to acquit Trump?.. the same ones who oppose stimulus checks now, and who continue to enable all of the needless suffering and hardship we, as a nation are enduring together in this moment.

Even if these Senators break from Trump... which most are yet unwilling to do... we still remember how they failed us at that critical juncture, when he could have been removed in advance of the national crisis.

We still remember how they brushed aside warnings about how history would remember them... at best, not giving a shit about history... but often with mockery, that such a warning had any teeth at all.

We still remember...

We...

...not just the political junkies who always pay attention... but now the ones who, at the time, had better things to focus on.

The Millennials, who though they’d finally recovered the ground they lost in the Bush years, and were about to try and settle down to own homes and start families.

The Zoomers (or GenZ) just graduating high school, and just starting college, thinking the economic nightmare suffered by their predecessors could not befall them too.

Together, these two youngest generations of voters, who had been the most apathetic, but have now become the most activist... outnumber, by percentage of population, the boomers in their own activist hayday of the 1960s.

And unlike the young boomers of old, who were at odds with some of the Silents, and all of the Greatests... Gens Y and Z have nearly full support of X, and growing support from the aging boomers, who, as of late, have been asked to sacrifice their lives for the economy.

This is a moment in American history like few before it, in which revolution is now pregnant.

But at the time of writing tonight, I still believe it will be a mostly peaceful revolution... sweeping Trump and his junta out of power this November, and establishing some meaningful and lasting reforms in the aftermath of the nightmare they visited upon us, these past four years.

That’s all I have to say about things for a Saturday night.

It’s time for bed.

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