( bucky wouldn't mind having an emotional support winky right about now. instead, he's picking at the skin around his nails one-handedly, and it's not exactly going well, as if it would really ever go well anyway. )
Get weird? About what?
And anyway, I said try. That doesn't mean I ever succeeded, you know. Cause I doubt anyone ever really did. It was just all about. Playing the game, and. Making thing look like you'll always come out on top.
I dunno, you get weird about when I talk about my meds and I don't wanna make it a thing. But then I can't talk about this big thing I'm always dealing with and... I dunno, maybe it's in my head. Because I care about what you think about me.
[ winky looks up at him with its too-many eyes, and alex gently pushes its head away like "why are you reminding me of how fucking weird you are??" ]
Right. Kinda fake it 'til you make it. Only nobody ever makes it because you never stop faking it.
That was the way of things. For better or worse. And shell-shock definitely made it far more worse.
( a crackled puff of air catches against the mic as he huffs with a fragment of disdain. )
I don't think I get weird about your self-medicating. I think it's reasonable to be worried with how far you take it. It's not the fact that you do it but the volume and the consistency. And I'm not deluded. I know the benefits of using things like that. But you're also fucking up your body to do it, and.
( there's a pained pause before he continues again. )
What am I supposed to do, if you accidentally take it to far, and I lose you? How am I supposed to live with knowing I couldn't do anything about it? It's your choice, yeah, and I respect that. But I'm allowed to feel things about it too, okay? You can't just. Act like there can't possibly be any potential consequences.
[ it's in this moment that the emotion alex thought was "weird" was actually called "worry." and that people — especially bucky, but also anyone — worrying about him makes him deeply uncomfortable. especially worrying this much with this many words. ]
Yeah... yeah, I get what you mean. [ it comes out as a sheepish mumble. ] I know it's... not good. I could take less, or be better, or something. But it really hurts that much, all the time. Like, my head hurts, and then it spirals out into everything else. Everything. But nobody knows how to help me, and nothing really works, so it's like, what do I do? I take so many different things all the time because if I can mix up a bunch of shit that half works, maybe I can feel half better. Sometimes it's like, I don't give a shit if I might die, because I already feel like I'm dying.
[ his voice is sad and tired. did talking about it make it feel better? a little, kind of. with a bonus side of guilt. ]
And you can worry about it, I get it. But I dunno how to fix any of that, so... I'm sorry if it makes me harder to love. You said I'm not, but I kind of am.
Things like this aren't reasons to just stop loving someone. That's not how that works. It's only harder if you give up. Unless that's what you're saying, which I really hope you're not. Just because you've found one way to handle things doesn't mean it's the only way though.
Is this something you don't want to change? Even a little?
[ if you keep telling him he's not hard to love he's going to cry again 💀 ]
No, it's not— I mean, I'm not giving up. I don't want to. I'm just fuckin' tired, dude. You just hit this point that's like, how much energy do I have left to keep trying? Which I guess... sounds like giving up. [ hearing the gears in his brain turn out loud, in real time: amazing? ]
I guess it's like, I don't want to, but I'm stuck. Like, you can tell someone with a broken leg to get up and walk it off, and they can want to, but moving the leg hurts. How many times are they supposed to try and get up and act like if they move just the right way, their bones are gonna snap back together?
I'm not going "wow, I love my broken leg." Or, "my life is shit, and I love this whole ass... shit castle I built for myself." It's not like that. So, y'know, if you wanna help me, I'll try, okay?
( silence answers alex for several beats. the words he used still ring heavily of defeat and don't quite fill the soldier with confidence in alex's ability to try. bucky understands being tired, of course. he's been there, too. still is there, but he fights every day to inject meaning so that he won't sink under the waves.
for however similar their trauma may be, it's clearer now more than ever that the way they've each adapted to it differs greatly, bucky desperate to find any purpose to pry him free from his burdens and alex eagerly reliant on what he already knows best.
the slow breath bucky forces into his lungs doesn't quite reach the phone's receiver. )
Okay. ( the tone is neutral, controlled. ) Whatever you're willing to try.
[ in that silence, alex gets the sense that bucky isn't on the other end going "uwu i'm so proud of you baby 👏👏👏", which he knows he doesn't deserve or would even want?? but the lack of response interpreted as uncertainty on the other end of the line makes his stomach lurch anyway.
it's a smaller version — one matryoshka doll down — of the other argument in rotation. why won't he try harder to break out of his indentured servitude nightmare? for some wild and crazy reason, bucky keeps not being satisfied with him essentially going "nothing matters, i've decided to stay within this system, master the system, and hope everything works out maybe."
this seems more surmountable, even if "more" is relative. ]
I mean it, okay? I know it sounds fucked, but I didn't think I was still gonna be alive by now. But it's almost my birthday and I keep living, so... I should probably make it worth it. You make me want to. I know you're not supposed to pin all your shit on another person, but it didn't feel like there was a point before.
( alex's significant other doesn't enjoy being part of the "nothing matters" part of that argument. shocking.
what alex then chooses to add only further emphasizes how little bucky's existence really affects any of the big picture. he's a glimmer rather than the light alex seems to talk him up to be, and that familiar ache of not being enough, even for steve, wraps around his core, a weight dragging heavily to the floor.
it's a good thing bucky's already sitting on it. )
[ and once again, that "mmhmm. yeah. makes sense" was not the response that made his serotonin receptors go brrr. he takes a moment to marinate in his own discomfort before, instead of trying to run his mouth until he hits some invisible jackpot, ask a big scary question — scary because he already feels in his heart like it's going to be no, and his first tentative baby step isn't worth anything. which then sends him down a thought spiral of "should it be? do i have to try harder to say something? if i'm thinking this much about it, am i a liar even though i wasn't trying to be?" ]
( it's easy to read the fragility in alex's question. carefully, bucky softens his tone to reply with more consideration. )
It's not about belief. Though, for the record, yes, I do believe you.
There's just. No real imperative, is there? Nothing making any of that action necessary. You're speaking in probability and possibility more out of resigned experience rather than genuine inclination.
And that's.
( painful to accept? difficult to reconcile against the affirmations alex has already sworn by? bucky doesn't know how to finish the sentence without feeling selfish. maybe that was the problem to begin with, letting himself believe he meant more than a passing distraction.
[ the answer leaves him feeling relieved, first of all, but with an aftertaste of something else. not mad? this isn't pineapple-worthy, or dissociation worthy. it's frustrating. he's frustrated. he's frustrated and can't do anything about it in the middle of a phone call, so he has to sit and stew in his own discomfort. horrible. 0/10, don't recommend. ]
No, you don't get it. I mean, you don't get it, but it's my fault you don't get it 'cause I'm not making it clear. Fuckin'... I want to because of you. I want to be better for you. But I don't want to put that much of me on you. Because if I fuck up, I don't want you to feel like it's you. Or that I won't just... give up if anything happens to you.
But if it's because of you, that's enough, right? That can be okay?
Isn't...that something for you to decide? If I'm the catalyst for positive change, I'm not going to fight against that. For the rest of the...
Okay, I'm not. Extremely clear on what you mean by putting you on me, cause I think the onus is still on you to do anything. Like. Yeah, I can feel things about how you feel or what you decide to do, but I'm not sure what you're asking permission for.
[ meanwhile, alex is sitting there letting winky clean his face (why is its tongue sticky what the fuck) thinking "oh... other people don't constantly seek validation from the people (read: person) they care about because they're so afraid they'll leave them. hoo boy is my mental illness showing." but at least the answer to his question was front-loaded there, so...? ]
I dunno. I thought you'd think that wasn't a good enough reason. And if it is a good enough reason but I still fuck up, I don't want you to think you weren't enough of a reason after all. Even though... yeah, it's all on me. I was just overthinking it. [ he's never going to stop saying all his thought processes out loud, at this rate. ]
I'd never blame a misstep on your opinion of me. These kinds of things are always a process anyway, aren't they? So I wouldn't expect you to nail it on the first try. I could never do anything like that either, so I wouldn't expect that of anyone else.
I would want to help, if you wanted my help. But I think that's really the only...part of the picture I could be in. When it comes to choosing what you want and trying.
[ even though they have their verbal misunderstandings, bucky usually manages to say the most right, most comforting thing in the end. (which usually only needs to be some variation of "i love you" or "i'm here.") alex exhales a breath he didn't even realize he was holding in.]
Yeah. I just... I mean it, you know? I wanna try to be better for you, I care a lot about what you think. I lo— [ abruptly: ] stop trying to lick my eye, you piece of shit!
[ accompanied by a hiss that is not alex. don't worry about what's happening over here. it's fine! ]
Yeah, he was cleaning my face. Which was fine until he tried to get my eye — hey! C'mon, you can't eat the phone. [ another hiss, followed by loud purring??? maybe winky hears bucky on the other line and misses him, who can truly say. ]
Anyway, uh — have you let him lick you? It's not sandpaper, it's fuckin' sticky. The fuck is that?
Cleaning your face? Why was he cleaning your— ( well, just in case winky can actually hear: ) Hey, Winky, it's okay, buddy. Alex is just in a mood right now.
Mm? Oh, his tongue? Yeah. It's like a dog's. Like a small dog's. I think it's kinda cute. He cleaned my hand a couple times after cooking, haha.
[ the sound of bucky's voice makes winky headbutt the phone, which only adds to alex's disdain. ] Hey, stop. Anyway, I dunno, he got up on my lap and started cleaning my face. [ alex says, pretending that he did not sit there petting him A While before that, or let him for several moments until he got to his eye. nope, it was totally random and not encouraged. ]
No, dude, it's soft and sticky. It's gotta be like a frog or something. [ he has no point of reference for dogs... but also none for frogs either, so? ] Fuck, do you think that's how it catches birds? [ winky has settled back down in his lap to purr loudy, which gives alex the feeling that that is exactly how it catches birds. nasty. nasty, but once again he can't bring himself to move him off. ]
And started cleaning you face? Just like that? ( well, that doesn't seem like something winky just does since bucky knows winky loves a good pet before doing anything like that. so— ) Were you petting him? When he go in your lap.
( cause that'd make much more sense. )
Wait, like a. Frog? That's not... Um. I mean he's more like a cat than a frog, so I would just assume he'd do it the cat way. Since he hisses and purrs and all that jazz.
[ sheepishly, like he just got caught in an actual Crime: ] I mean... yeah. He was just kind of sitting there, so. I did it just because he was there, I dunno.
[ guess what: he's doing it again now. who needs a fidget cube when you have winky? ]
Dude, he's not like anything, he's an aberration. He also has at least six eyes and no asshole, so let's not go assigning too many cat-like traits to him.
( meanwhile, bucky has no idea what to do with his hands and could definitely use a fidget cube instead. )
Why do you always gotta say that? He obviously likes being like a cat. Just cause he's there to keep an eye on you doesn't mean you should be so dismissive of how he prefers to identify, aberration or not.
If you're gonna be that critical of him, you may as well just call me a cyborg instead of a human, then.
[ the emotion of the moment is: confusion. he didn't expect bucky to get so upset on behalf of winky? or, even more, compare himself to winky. alex refuses to let winky the spy cat be another point of contention in his relationship, so he tries really hard to make peace. ]
He didn't do that much cat stuff until you started hanging around all the time. I dunno if it's because he likes you or wanted to seem more catlike for you, or... whatever. He was just a weird thing that sat on the balcony or the window sills before. But I'm not gonna fuckin' call you a cyborg — even though if you wanted to, you'd still be fuckin' sick — so I'll try to be nicer about him, okay? For real.
( the point is that he doesn't want to be called a cyborg, alex!!!
but he sighs after a moment, nodding, as if alex can see. )
Yeah. Thank you.
Look, I know it's. I know you don't like being spied on, but if this is already what you accepted, then how is it Winky's fault in any way? He's just doing his job just like you are.
Besides, you were petting him, and from the sound of it, he was trying to comfort you. Since you were distressed. Winky actually pays attention, okay? At least give him a little credit for trying. Please.
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Get weird? About what?
And anyway, I said try. That doesn't mean I ever succeeded, you know. Cause I doubt anyone ever really did. It was just all about. Playing the game, and. Making thing look like you'll always come out on top.
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[ winky looks up at him with its too-many eyes, and alex gently pushes its head away like "why are you reminding me of how fucking weird you are??" ]
Right. Kinda fake it 'til you make it. Only nobody ever makes it because you never stop faking it.
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( a crackled puff of air catches against the mic as he huffs with a fragment of disdain. )
I don't think I get weird about your self-medicating. I think it's reasonable to be worried with how far you take it. It's not the fact that you do it but the volume and the consistency. And I'm not deluded. I know the benefits of using things like that. But you're also fucking up your body to do it, and.
( there's a pained pause before he continues again. )
What am I supposed to do, if you accidentally take it to far, and I lose you? How am I supposed to live with knowing I couldn't do anything about it? It's your choice, yeah, and I respect that. But I'm allowed to feel things about it too, okay? You can't just. Act like there can't possibly be any potential consequences.
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Yeah... yeah, I get what you mean. [ it comes out as a sheepish mumble. ] I know it's... not good. I could take less, or be better, or something. But it really hurts that much, all the time. Like, my head hurts, and then it spirals out into everything else. Everything. But nobody knows how to help me, and nothing really works, so it's like, what do I do? I take so many different things all the time because if I can mix up a bunch of shit that half works, maybe I can feel half better. Sometimes it's like, I don't give a shit if I might die, because I already feel like I'm dying.
[ his voice is sad and tired. did talking about it make it feel better? a little, kind of. with a bonus side of guilt. ]
And you can worry about it, I get it. But I dunno how to fix any of that, so... I'm sorry if it makes me harder to love. You said I'm not, but I kind of am.
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Things like this aren't reasons to just stop loving someone. That's not how that works. It's only harder if you give up. Unless that's what you're saying, which I really hope you're not. Just because you've found one way to handle things doesn't mean it's the only way though.
Is this something you don't want to change? Even a little?
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No, it's not— I mean, I'm not giving up. I don't want to. I'm just fuckin' tired, dude. You just hit this point that's like, how much energy do I have left to keep trying? Which I guess... sounds like giving up. [ hearing the gears in his brain turn out loud, in real time: amazing? ]
I guess it's like, I don't want to, but I'm stuck. Like, you can tell someone with a broken leg to get up and walk it off, and they can want to, but moving the leg hurts. How many times are they supposed to try and get up and act like if they move just the right way, their bones are gonna snap back together?
I'm not going "wow, I love my broken leg." Or, "my life is shit, and I love this whole ass... shit castle I built for myself." It's not like that. So, y'know, if you wanna help me, I'll try, okay?
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for however similar their trauma may be, it's clearer now more than ever that the way they've each adapted to it differs greatly, bucky desperate to find any purpose to pry him free from his burdens and alex eagerly reliant on what he already knows best.
the slow breath bucky forces into his lungs doesn't quite reach the phone's receiver. )
Okay. ( the tone is neutral, controlled. ) Whatever you're willing to try.
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it's a smaller version — one matryoshka doll down — of the other argument in rotation. why won't he try harder to break out of his indentured servitude nightmare? for some wild and crazy reason, bucky keeps not being satisfied with him essentially going "nothing matters, i've decided to stay within this system, master the system, and hope everything works out maybe."
this seems more surmountable, even if "more" is relative. ]
I mean it, okay? I know it sounds fucked, but I didn't think I was still gonna be alive by now. But it's almost my birthday and I keep living, so... I should probably make it worth it. You make me want to. I know you're not supposed to pin all your shit on another person, but it didn't feel like there was a point before.
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what alex then chooses to add only further emphasizes how little bucky's existence really affects any of the big picture. he's a glimmer rather than the light alex seems to talk him up to be, and that familiar ache of not being enough, even for steve, wraps around his core, a weight dragging heavily to the floor.
it's a good thing bucky's already sitting on it. )
Mmhm. Yeah. Makes sense.
( he doesn't sound entirely convinced. )
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You believe me, right?
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It's not about belief. Though, for the record, yes, I do believe you.
There's just. No real imperative, is there? Nothing making any of that action necessary. You're speaking in probability and possibility more out of resigned experience rather than genuine inclination.
And that's.
( painful to accept? difficult to reconcile against the affirmations alex has already sworn by? bucky doesn't know how to finish the sentence without feeling selfish. maybe that was the problem to begin with, letting himself believe he meant more than a passing distraction.
silence follows. )
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No, you don't get it. I mean, you don't get it, but it's my fault you don't get it 'cause I'm not making it clear. Fuckin'... I want to because of you. I want to be better for you. But I don't want to put that much of me on you. Because if I fuck up, I don't want you to feel like it's you. Or that I won't just... give up if anything happens to you.
But if it's because of you, that's enough, right? That can be okay?
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Okay, I'm not. Extremely clear on what you mean by putting you on me, cause I think the onus is still on you to do anything. Like. Yeah, I can feel things about how you feel or what you decide to do, but I'm not sure what you're asking permission for.
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I dunno. I thought you'd think that wasn't a good enough reason. And if it is a good enough reason but I still fuck up, I don't want you to think you weren't enough of a reason after all. Even though... yeah, it's all on me. I was just overthinking it. [ he's never going to stop saying all his thought processes out loud, at this rate. ]
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I'd never blame a misstep on your opinion of me. These kinds of things are always a process anyway, aren't they? So I wouldn't expect you to nail it on the first try. I could never do anything like that either, so I wouldn't expect that of anyone else.
I would want to help, if you wanted my help. But I think that's really the only...part of the picture I could be in. When it comes to choosing what you want and trying.
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Yeah. I just... I mean it, you know? I wanna try to be better for you, I care a lot about what you think. I lo— [ abruptly: ] stop trying to lick my eye, you piece of shit!
[ accompanied by a hiss that is not alex. don't worry about what's happening over here. it's fine! ]
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oh. )
Is Winky licking you? ( he chuckles, smiling to himself. ) Don't yell, darling, you'll just irritate him.
( as if the not-cat is actually a cat, but bucky has certainly become something of a winky expert, lately. )
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Anyway, uh — have you let him lick you? It's not sandpaper, it's fuckin' sticky. The fuck is that?
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Mm? Oh, his tongue? Yeah. It's like a dog's. Like a small dog's. I think it's kinda cute. He cleaned my hand a couple times after cooking, haha.
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No, dude, it's soft and sticky. It's gotta be like a frog or something. [ he has no point of reference for dogs... but also none for frogs either, so? ] Fuck, do you think that's how it catches birds? [ winky has settled back down in his lap to purr loudy, which gives alex the feeling that that is exactly how it catches birds. nasty. nasty, but once again he can't bring himself to move him off. ]
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( cause that'd make much more sense. )
Wait, like a. Frog? That's not... Um. I mean he's more like a cat than a frog, so I would just assume he'd do it the cat way. Since he hisses and purrs and all that jazz.
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[ guess what: he's doing it again now. who needs a fidget cube when you have winky? ]
Dude, he's not like anything, he's an aberration. He also has at least six eyes and no asshole, so let's not go assigning too many cat-like traits to him.
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Why do you always gotta say that? He obviously likes being like a cat. Just cause he's there to keep an eye on you doesn't mean you should be so dismissive of how he prefers to identify, aberration or not.
If you're gonna be that critical of him, you may as well just call me a cyborg instead of a human, then.
( is that a frown in his voice? it sure it! )
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He didn't do that much cat stuff until you started hanging around all the time. I dunno if it's because he likes you or wanted to seem more catlike for you, or... whatever. He was just a weird thing that sat on the balcony or the window sills before. But I'm not gonna fuckin' call you a cyborg — even though if you wanted to, you'd still be fuckin' sick — so I'll try to be nicer about him, okay? For real.
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but he sighs after a moment, nodding, as if alex can see. )
Yeah. Thank you.
Look, I know it's. I know you don't like being spied on, but if this is already what you accepted, then how is it Winky's fault in any way? He's just doing his job just like you are.
Besides, you were petting him, and from the sound of it, he was trying to comfort you. Since you were distressed. Winky actually pays attention, okay? At least give him a little credit for trying. Please.
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