(The one person you genuinely cared about already does, anyway.) You’re supposed to be strong like the rest of them, to be able to fight like the rest of them and defend yourself and not get into situations like this and the only thing running through your head right now is the fact that you might even die and everyone’s going look at you like some sort of failure. You have to get out of here and get back to the tower before anyone notices you’re missing because you can’t let anyone see you like this. You’re vaguely aware of the blood dripping down the back of your neck, and spilling out your lips and coating your fingers and smeared across your face and– there’s so much blood. In the distance you can hear the rush of cars, tires splashing in puddles formed by the rain. Warnings: a lot of self-doubt, injury, angst ![]() ![]() “Bucky had never been held responsible for what he’d done, but you, oh god, everything that had happened had been your fault, and Bucky knew it too.”
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