( He looked them up. Rebecca's still alive, and she's got two kids who have kids of their own. A tiny little pocket of family that Bucky will likely never initiate contact with, because —
Imagine looking his sister in the eyes, knowing she's probably seen the news about you and the crimes against humanity you committed. Hell, imagine looking your sister in the eyes and seeing her on the cusp of ending her twilight years, quickly fading. The last time he saw her, he was in his early twenties and she was fifteen. Helping raise her, braid her hair, size up the boys flocking around her much to her chagrin — and now she'll be lucky to last another five.
It's not just about that. It's about the trouble he brings with him, the danger that inherently surrounds him just by virtue of who he is. What he does. Getting close to them means bringing the risk to their doorstep, and...
At fifteen, he won't have made enough impression on her, he thinks, for her to think reconnecting was worth the risk. It's just not a good idea.
But it's one of the reasons why he finds such comfort in Sam's relationship with his sister. It's a little nostalgic, a little familiar.
He exhales through his nose, peeling his eyes away from Sam again. )
Yeah. Well.
( Speaking of leaving. It almost sounds dismissive, like he might change the subject. He thinks they probably both know what he's thinking about; who he's thinking about.
Instead of shutting down, he throws out one last uncomfortable admission. )
I lost it on Steve.
( Snarled at him in a way he's never done before. Closest comparable fight they ever had outright must've been when they were thirteen or fourteen over goddamn Stacey Chapman.
no subject
Imagine looking his sister in the eyes, knowing she's probably seen the news about you and the crimes against humanity you committed. Hell, imagine looking your sister in the eyes and seeing her on the cusp of ending her twilight years, quickly fading. The last time he saw her, he was in his early twenties and she was fifteen. Helping raise her, braid her hair, size up the boys flocking around her much to her chagrin — and now she'll be lucky to last another five.
It's not just about that. It's about the trouble he brings with him, the danger that inherently surrounds him just by virtue of who he is. What he does. Getting close to them means bringing the risk to their doorstep, and...
At fifteen, he won't have made enough impression on her, he thinks, for her to think reconnecting was worth the risk. It's just not a good idea.
But it's one of the reasons why he finds such comfort in Sam's relationship with his sister. It's a little nostalgic, a little familiar.
He exhales through his nose, peeling his eyes away from Sam again. )
Yeah. Well.
( Speaking of leaving. It almost sounds dismissive, like he might change the subject. He thinks they probably both know what he's thinking about; who he's thinking about.
Instead of shutting down, he throws out one last uncomfortable admission. )
I lost it on Steve.
( Snarled at him in a way he's never done before. Closest comparable fight they ever had outright must've been when they were thirteen or fourteen over goddamn Stacey Chapman.
He doesn't feel good about it. )