ready to comply
Sep. 4th, 2022 12:45 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
semi_stable[cw: descriptions of a panic attack, mentions of PTSD]
Things have been going very well for Bucky as of late, so it's no real surprise when he's suddenly knocked on his ass again. That's how it goes, after all. That's his story. That's how it always goes.
This time, all he's doing is walking down the street. He's smiling, almost even laughing, sipping at an iced coffee. He's talking with a friend, gesturing with his prosthetic hand, ungloved and visible to anyone who looks at him, and anyone who did wouldn't even be able to tell how broken he is.
Because he is broken. He always will be in some way or another. His brain was taken apart and put back together over and over again, scrambled and reformed, and he'll never be healed from that, not completely. Not to mention all the trauma and abuse, decades of it, and he can have a few good months but he'll never be totally free.
This is proven to him as he's walking past some sort of street fair out in front of his building. It's noisy, with people milling about and several different radios tuned to different stations drowning each other out. They suddenly all go quiet, music and talking replaced with an eerie, quiet static.
Longing.
The word makes Bucky go still, face draining of color. It's a low, commanding male voice speaking in Russian, and Bucky feels a little like he might throw up.
Rusted.
It's coming from every radio, even one from a car passing by, windows rolled down to take advantage of the nice day. It's coming from everywhere and Bucky's coffee falls from his hand, plastic cracking as it breaks against the pavement. "No."
Furnace.
"No, no, no, please," Bucky pleads in Russian, reaching up to put his hands over his ears. It's so unexpected to hear his trigger words that he forgets for a moment that he's supposed to have been cured of them, rewired during his time in Wakanda. But then he remembers, and it doesn't help. Whoever is behind this place has proven how powerful they are, and who's to say that they didn't undo that, too?
Daybreak.
It's getting louder now, more forceful, and Bucky lets out a panicked shout as he stumbles backwards, breathing heavily and shaking his head. He's flooded so suddenly with adrenaline, like ice water being dumped over his head, and he can hear his heart beating. Air gets stuck in his chest and he can't breathe, and while he recognizes the signs of a panic attack, he can't seem to make it stop. He's too terrified of what might be about to happen to do anything but panic.
Seventeen.
"No, no, not again," he chokes out, turning to run into the lobby of his building to try and get away from it, only to find that they're playing in there too, pumping tinnily out of a speaker in the corner. He chokes out a sob and sinks to the floor, pushing himself back into a corner and covering his ears. Someone follows after him and Bucky holds out his hand. "Stop! Stay back."
Benign.
There are four more. Only four more words until Bucky finds out of the switch in his brain will be flipped, if he'll climb to his feet and stand at attention. Four more words until this city finds out if the Winter Soldier is ready to comply.
[Help him. Have your pup be the person he was walking with and/or the one who finds him in the lobby. Despite his fears, the trigger words will not do anything because he's still cured, but he's still going through one hell of a PTSD episode.]
Things have been going very well for Bucky as of late, so it's no real surprise when he's suddenly knocked on his ass again. That's how it goes, after all. That's his story. That's how it always goes.
This time, all he's doing is walking down the street. He's smiling, almost even laughing, sipping at an iced coffee. He's talking with a friend, gesturing with his prosthetic hand, ungloved and visible to anyone who looks at him, and anyone who did wouldn't even be able to tell how broken he is.
Because he is broken. He always will be in some way or another. His brain was taken apart and put back together over and over again, scrambled and reformed, and he'll never be healed from that, not completely. Not to mention all the trauma and abuse, decades of it, and he can have a few good months but he'll never be totally free.
This is proven to him as he's walking past some sort of street fair out in front of his building. It's noisy, with people milling about and several different radios tuned to different stations drowning each other out. They suddenly all go quiet, music and talking replaced with an eerie, quiet static.
Longing.
The word makes Bucky go still, face draining of color. It's a low, commanding male voice speaking in Russian, and Bucky feels a little like he might throw up.
Rusted.
It's coming from every radio, even one from a car passing by, windows rolled down to take advantage of the nice day. It's coming from everywhere and Bucky's coffee falls from his hand, plastic cracking as it breaks against the pavement. "No."
Furnace.
"No, no, no, please," Bucky pleads in Russian, reaching up to put his hands over his ears. It's so unexpected to hear his trigger words that he forgets for a moment that he's supposed to have been cured of them, rewired during his time in Wakanda. But then he remembers, and it doesn't help. Whoever is behind this place has proven how powerful they are, and who's to say that they didn't undo that, too?
Daybreak.
It's getting louder now, more forceful, and Bucky lets out a panicked shout as he stumbles backwards, breathing heavily and shaking his head. He's flooded so suddenly with adrenaline, like ice water being dumped over his head, and he can hear his heart beating. Air gets stuck in his chest and he can't breathe, and while he recognizes the signs of a panic attack, he can't seem to make it stop. He's too terrified of what might be about to happen to do anything but panic.
Seventeen.
"No, no, not again," he chokes out, turning to run into the lobby of his building to try and get away from it, only to find that they're playing in there too, pumping tinnily out of a speaker in the corner. He chokes out a sob and sinks to the floor, pushing himself back into a corner and covering his ears. Someone follows after him and Bucky holds out his hand. "Stop! Stay back."
Benign.
There are four more. Only four more words until Bucky finds out of the switch in his brain will be flipped, if he'll climb to his feet and stand at attention. Four more words until this city finds out if the Winter Soldier is ready to comply.
[Help him. Have your pup be the person he was walking with and/or the one who finds him in the lobby. Despite his fears, the trigger words will not do anything because he's still cured, but he's still going through one hell of a PTSD episode.]
no subject
Date: 2022-09-06 07:06 am (UTC)Except this isn't just someone else, it's Bucky. Maybe that shouldn't altogether surprise her when she's had a sense since that first night they hooked up on the beach that there was a similarity in them, an understanding of sorts, but it throws her all the same. It also draws her out of the elevator into the lobby, making her way slowly, carefully to the corner he's tucked himself into. Across from him, a foot or so away, she kneels, setting the basket of laundry she'd been taking downstairs aside. Clean clothes can wait. Whatever is going on that has him so distraught is far more important. And while she's never been good at talking herself down from a state like this, that doesn't mean she won't be able to help him.
"Bucky, hey," she murmurs, her voice low and soothing, something just for the two of them, entirely in spite of his telling her to stay back. "It's me. It's Dani. Can you try to breathe?"
no subject
Date: 2022-09-08 06:59 am (UTC)Nine.
Homecoming.
The words blare from the speaker in a booming Russian voice, firm and sharp-edged, and Bucky curls his hands into fists against either side of his head, staring at Dani with terror in his expression, chest heaving as he chokes on a breath. "I don't want to hurt you."
no subject
Date: 2022-10-04 06:24 pm (UTC)She doesn't get any closer, not wanting to crowd him, but she doesn't move away, either, still watching him carefully from where she's kneeling about a foot away. "And I'm not going anywhere. It's gonna be alright."
no subject
Date: 2022-10-10 10:41 pm (UTC)"We don't know that!" Bucky cries out, because her trust in him is misplaced, at least in this moment. If those words do trigger the Winter Soldier, it won't matter that he likes Dani and wants her to be safe. Nothing Bucky wants will matter because he won't be Bucky. He'll be someone else entirely.
One.
"There's one more." Usually by this point, he'd feel the programming taking hold, and just how useless it was to try and fight it. He doesn't feel that now, only the terror he could. Maybe it'll be okay, but maybe it won't. "If I change, you need to run, okay? Just run."
no subject
Date: 2022-11-08 06:31 am (UTC)"Okay," she finishes instead, quieter and a little hoarse, nodding. "If something happens, I — I'll run."
no subject
Date: 2022-11-14 03:14 am (UTC)Bucky's eyes snap open to find Dani still there, and he lets out a ragged breath as he stares at her. Now he just feels weak and foolish, and he scrubs his good hand over his face.
"I'm okay. I'm gonna be okay," Bucky says as he pulls himself to his feet, looking anywhere but at her. "I'm sorry. I'm-- sorry."
no subject
Date: 2022-11-20 05:16 am (UTC)All she can really do, though, is show him that it's alright, and that she's here. He hasn't hurt her, as she'd known he wouldn't. He's okay, even if she's pretty sure he's also not.
"I don't know what just happened, but... I promise, you don't need to apologize to me for it."