Six Sentence Sunday
Jun. 30th, 2019 02:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
boogiewoogiebuglegal...from Chapter 10 of "The Ability to Stop":
[Content-warning for mentions of standard Winter Soldier trauma]
--//--
“But what about the kids?” Bucky asked. “How am I’m going to be safe around them? How?”
“Because under all the pressure in the world, under pain and torture and dehumanization, you didn’t take that shot.”
“But I took others,” Bucky insisted. “I know I killed kids. I killed whomever they wanted. Some I don’t even remember, but I will, one day. Is Dr. Methuli going to be able to help me live with that?”
Steve remembered the first man he’d killed when he hadn’t intended to---he’d lobbed the shield at a German soldier standing guard over a Hydra munitions dump during the war. Meaning to disable the man, he’d nearly decapitated him instead. “I don’t know, Buck,” Steve said softly. “But if you don’t return to him, you’ll never find out what he can help you live with.”
Bucky eyed him. “Never thought I’d hear you arguing for therapy.”
Viwe had helped him with the memory of the German soldier, and untold others whose deaths formed the residue of his nightmares. The healers here respected that war caused trauma. “It’s not like I haven’t told some grisly stories of my own to Viwe. Come on, pal. Let’s head home.”
[Content-warning for mentions of standard Winter Soldier trauma]
--//--
“But what about the kids?” Bucky asked. “How am I’m going to be safe around them? How?”
“Because under all the pressure in the world, under pain and torture and dehumanization, you didn’t take that shot.”
“But I took others,” Bucky insisted. “I know I killed kids. I killed whomever they wanted. Some I don’t even remember, but I will, one day. Is Dr. Methuli going to be able to help me live with that?”
Steve remembered the first man he’d killed when he hadn’t intended to---he’d lobbed the shield at a German soldier standing guard over a Hydra munitions dump during the war. Meaning to disable the man, he’d nearly decapitated him instead. “I don’t know, Buck,” Steve said softly. “But if you don’t return to him, you’ll never find out what he can help you live with.”
Bucky eyed him. “Never thought I’d hear you arguing for therapy.”
Viwe had helped him with the memory of the German soldier, and untold others whose deaths formed the residue of his nightmares. The healers here respected that war caused trauma. “It’s not like I haven’t told some grisly stories of my own to Viwe. Come on, pal. Let’s head home.”
