[Neither does Bucky, and so while it's probably good that this is all out in the open now, that they can think about it and know it's maybe okay to discuss with each other... it also kind of feels like a conversation that's not going anywhere, and might not come up again until it's either a problem or they have no other choice.
Sometimes, Bucky feels like this is something new, like the war and everything that had happened to them has driven some kind of wedge between them that wasn't there before, but then he remembers stubborn arguments about who could pay for what, and whether or not Steve was well enough to do something, and what fights were worth getting the shit kicked out of you for, and rationalizes maybe it's not that new. They're just different arguments or roadblocks, and they're a little different, too.
So he just takes that all in - I don't have an answer right now - and tries to forget about it. His time on the front lines had taught him that you can't dwell on anything, or it'll start to eat away at you, and he figures that's true about all of this - death, an uncertain future - too.]
Okay. [And that's that. The conversation's over, and he tries to focus on something else.
... Tries.
There are the obvious things - Steve's solid weight pressed up against him, the gentle breeze, the rustling leaves overhead - but it's not really enough to take his mind off it entirely, and it kind of feels like the constantly whirring gears of thought in his head are going to drive him insane.
(Sometimes, he finds himself missing the war. It was easier to keep your mind off things when you had other stuff to be focusing on, a mission to run, a job to do, people to protect. There's too much down time here, and he's not sure what to do with it.)
Bucky stays silent and tips his head back against the tree trunk, letting his eyes dip shut for a moment. He's so friggin' tired.]
spam!
Sometimes, Bucky feels like this is something new, like the war and everything that had happened to them has driven some kind of wedge between them that wasn't there before, but then he remembers stubborn arguments about who could pay for what, and whether or not Steve was well enough to do something, and what fights were worth getting the shit kicked out of you for, and rationalizes maybe it's not that new. They're just different arguments or roadblocks, and they're a little different, too.
So he just takes that all in - I don't have an answer right now - and tries to forget about it. His time on the front lines had taught him that you can't dwell on anything, or it'll start to eat away at you, and he figures that's true about all of this - death, an uncertain future - too.]
Okay. [And that's that. The conversation's over, and he tries to focus on something else.
... Tries.
There are the obvious things - Steve's solid weight pressed up against him, the gentle breeze, the rustling leaves overhead - but it's not really enough to take his mind off it entirely, and it kind of feels like the constantly whirring gears of thought in his head are going to drive him insane.
(Sometimes, he finds himself missing the war. It was easier to keep your mind off things when you had other stuff to be focusing on, a mission to run, a job to do, people to protect. There's too much down time here, and he's not sure what to do with it.)
Bucky stays silent and tips his head back against the tree trunk, letting his eyes dip shut for a moment. He's so friggin' tired.]