The Truth Hurts.

[onlyforthedream]

It's been three days since I've seen Bucky, and that's enough. I leave the house with the sole intention of finding him, preferably without bringing Natalia or Jason into it- what's about to happen is between the two of us, and I don't want to answer questions, nor do I want to set him up to be asked any. By all accounts, the influence that caused people to speak out against their will should have passed, and I find myself somehow disinclined to wait around for Bucky to come to me. I find Virginia in her stall, which is all the evidence I need of his return, and set off for the house, hoping to find it empty of anyone but him, for convenience's sake. When I don't find him there I strike out for the beach. Bucky's not an easy man to track, and I'm more counting on the general region, knowing his schedule, and the size of the island than anything so obvious as a telling trail of partial footprints and snapped palm fronds.

I can hear the ocean through the trees though I can't see it yet, and it's pushing through some low hanging vines and stepping onto a relatively clear swath of dirt that I find him.

"Bucky."

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[onlyforthedream.livejournal.com]

We've done this, the both of us, for soldiers before. Held them while they came apart at the seams. It wasn't something we ever had to for each other, though, because we never let each other get to that point. We held the line, no matter what, even if it was only a line of two. I hope arriving here is a good thing. Having never seen Bucky like this, it's troubling, to say the least, but I think... I hope it's a step in the right direction.

So I hold him, pain forgotten, not so he can't get away but so he won't fall.