ready to comply

[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.]

Comments

[semi_stable]

"Stranger things have happened," Bucky says dryly, lifting a brow as he raises his hand to drag it through Loki's hair, tousling the dark curls. Before Loki can retaliate, Bopp lets out one sharp bark from the living room and it's followed almost immediately by a knock at the the door. "I'll get it."

He rolls off of the bed and ends up on his feet, stepping into a pair of sweats on his way down the hall. As soon as he's away from Loki, walking past the spot where he collapsed on the floor and cried, he feels a little uneasy. Memories from earlier creep in and he reminds himself that the words are useless. They only have power over him now if he lets them.

After collecting food from the delivery guy, who seemed vaguely flustered by his naked chest and robot arm, Bucky grabs two bottles off water from the fridge and is followed back down the hall by Bopp. Once back in the bedroom, she puts her head on the bed to sniff at Loki's knee and then goes to flop into her bed under the window.

"Here you go, your majesty," Bucky teases as he steps up onto the bed, settling down into a cross-legged position as he starts to unload the boxes. "I need to change the sheets anyway."

[thewrongpath]

Chuckling softly, Loki propped himself against the headboard, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to tame it, though he left it otherwise mussed, even as he donned a pair of soft, black sleep pants.

"Hello, madam," he murmured, reaching out to scratch behind Bopp's ears before she drifted away to her place beneath the window.

"How indulgent," Loki teased, crossing his own legs so that they could spread their food between them. Cracking open one of the sushi trays, he popped a piece into his mouth, humming his approval.

[semi_stable]

It's only once all the food is spread out in front of him that Bucky realizes just how hungry he is, and he's halfway through one of his rolls before he pauses for a drink of water. The place he usually orders from is fine, but this one, he must admit, is better. But that's how it always goes. The people with the most money get all the best stuff.

"What's that smell? He asks suddenly, sniffing the air in a way that's vaguely reminiscent of Bopp. It's earthy and kind of funky, and he looks suspiciously at a box still sitting closed near Loki's thigh. "Is that the truffle stuff?"

[thewrongpath]

Laughing, Loki picked up the box and opened the lid, waving the tray enticingly in front of Bucky's face.

"Come on, I know you can be adventurous," he goaded, stealing a piece for himself and popping it into his mouth. It really was quite good, the truffle oil complimenting the taste of the fish without overpowering it.

[semi_stable]

When Loki opens the lid, Bucky's nose wrinkles at the strong smell, which isn't particularly good or bad, and narrows his eyes a little as he looks at the roll suspiciously. Loki seems to enjoy it, so Bucky reaches up with his chopsticks to carefully take a piece of it for himself.

"You have to remember that I have a Depression era palate," he jokes, lifting a hand under his chin as he puts the roll in his mouth. It's a burst of flavor and his eyes widen a bit, then narrow once again when he realizes that Loki was right.

"It's fine," he says with his mouth full, hoping the lack of manners might distract him from being smug about it.

[thewrongpath]

"Hm, yes. Mediocre," Loki agreed with a smirk, stealing another bite for himself and leaving the tray within reach between them. Thor and his cohorts weren't known for their table manners, and Asgardians in general were less ridged about them than most, so, Bucky's lapse in propriety hardly phased him.

"I've never had one of these," he admitted, reaching to pluck one of the potstickers out of its container with his fingers. "The food in Asgard seems rather limited, compared to all the choices here."

And he'd traveled, of course. He'd even spent a fair bit of time on Earth, in the past, but what was available now was a global melting pot unlike what he'd experienced before.

[semi_stable]

"Mm, dip it in the sauce," Bucky says excitedly, because food is something that will always get him going, even if he doesn't know too much about it. He pops off the lid of the potsticker sauce with his own fingers and gives it a quick dip. "We didn't have sushi but there was a Chinese family in our building when I was growing up. The Changs, I think. My mom and them would swap food sometimes, and man, it was good."

The Changs packed up and moved away at the start of the war, and Bucky hadn't realized why at the time. Now he does.

"What did you eat back home?" Bucky asks around his potsticker, scooping up his chopsticks and grabbing another piece of sushi. "I'm imagining a lot of meats and fruit." He watches Loki grab another piece of fish with his fingers and smirks fondly. "Stuff you could eat with your hands."

[thewrongpath]

Bucky seemed so excited by the prospect of showing him something new, Loki couldn't help but be charmed. Dipping the little dumpling in the sauce, he cupped his free hand beneath it as he brought it to his mouth. It was savory, salty, the sauce just a bit sweet. "Delicious," he agreed, sucking a bit of grease from the pad of his thumb.

At the little, lighthearted jab, Loki smirked in return. "That's not terribly far off. Smoked meats, a bit of fish, cheese, fruit, nuts. Some breads. Spicy food has been a bit of an adventure," he admitted, stealing another piece of the truffle roll.

[semi_stable]

“That sounds a lot like how I eat now,” Bucky admits with a laugh. Grocery stores tend to overwhelm him, so he usually just gets the same things each time he goes, sticking to a routine. Lots of protein and good fats, eggs and fruit, nuts to snack on. “Maybe I would have done well in Asgard.”

He takes another piece of the truffle roll for himself and then pulls his tuna roll into his lap, extracting a piece of fish with no sauce and wrapping it around a small ball of sticky rice. He lets out a short, quiet whistle and Bopp immediately trots over as if she’d been waiting for it, tail swishing back and forth as she looks up at Bucky hopefully.

“Here,” he says, holding out the small treat for her, watching as she takes it gently from his fingers. “Now go lay down.”

[thewrongpath]

"Oh, you would. I have no doubt of that," Loki agreed, allowing himself to think upon Asgard with a bit of fondness, and how well Bucky might have fit in there.

Watching Bucky carefully dissect his tuna roll with a surprising surge of fondness, Loki smiled as Bopp delicately accepted the offering, before returning obediently to her bed.

"Spoiled," he observed warmly, amused by how the two of them seemed to have settled into such a gentle symbiosis. He'd observed her on her first day with Bucky, during only Loki's second meeting with the latter, and it was difficult now for him to imagine one without the other.

[semi_stable]

The sentiment means a great deal to Bucky. It’s all hypothetical, of course. Asgard no longer exists and they would have no way to get there even if it did, but he likes that Loki can think of his home and imagine Bucky there.

“You’re one to talk,” Bucky replies with a smirk, wiping his hands on a napkin before finishing off the rest of his tuna roll. He nudges the rest of the truffle roll toward Loki, because while he enjoyed it, Loki seemed to enjoy it more. He snags two more potstickers and then a few pieces of another roll, both of them polishing off the food in a way that only a god and a super soldier with enhanced metabolism could.

By the time that they’re done and Bucky has drained his bottle of water, he feels full and content and, at least for the time being, isn’t even thinking about the awful thing that happened earlier. He’s thinking about what came after, and he gives Loki an almost shy smile. “Thanks for dinner.”

[thewrongpath]

"Of course," Loki said, carefully leaning across the scatter of empty containers to kiss the corner of Bucky's smiling mouth.

Draining his own water and setting the bottle aside on the bedside table, Loki stretched his arms overhead, letting out a low hum of contentment. Reaching for the empty bag, he crammed all their discarded containers into it, all of it seeming to vanish with a faint glow of orange light. Out of sight, it reappeared in the kitchen, where he left it sitting atop the garbage can.

[semi_stable]

Bucky finds himself distracted by the stretch of Loki’s long body, the lean lines of muscle and unexpected freckles and beauty marks dusted across his skin. He truly is a beautiful man and he knows it, but Bucky can’t help but to stare at him anyway.

It’s only the light that makes him look away, and he chuckles a little. He doesn’t want to get used to this, not doing things himself. He doesn’t want to get lazy and rely on magic, but he can’t deny that it’s nice sometimes. Maybe he’s a little spoiled, too. Maybe that’s okay.

With an exaggerated groan, Bucky falls sideways between Loki’s legs, resting his head on one of his thighs. He feels unusually tired, but he supposes that isn’t much of a surprise given the day he’s had.

“I need to take Bopp out,” he murmurs into the luxurious fabric stretched over Loki’s thigh. “Do you wanna come? Or you could stay here and do a magic trick on these dirty sheets.”

[thewrongpath]

"I'll stay," Loki decided, slipping his hands through Bucky's hair, reluctant to leave him but also reluctant to leave this bed.

"I'll tidy up, don't you worry," he teased, feeling pleasantly exhausted himself. If not for the dog, he imagined they might have curled up and gone to sleep right there, Bucky's head in his lap, bellies full and hearts content. It was the type of moment he might've once sneered at himself for, but now, he honestly couldn't remember why. The vulnerability of opening himself up to the possibility of this was terrifying, but had been worth it so far.

Perhaps that would all change. It might all come crashing down around them. But for now, Loki simply didn't care.

[semi_stable]

"Solid plan," Bucky sighs out, but he doesn't move. For a long moment, he just lays there, relaxing with his head in Loki's lap. He feels warm and safe and full, and he doesn't want to leave this spot. But Bopp is more important than his comfort, so he gets up with a groan and rolls off of the bed, leaning over to press a kiss to Loki's cheek.

"Time for a walk," Bucky calls out, and Bopp pops up onto her feet and dances in a few excited circles before taking off down the hallway. Bucky chuckles and pulls on a t-shirt and some sneakers before looking over at Loki. It all seems ridiculously domestic, and he likes it. More surprisingly, Loki seems to like it, too. "Be right back, honey."

He winks and leaves the room, gathering Bopp's leash and hooking it to her collar before leaving the apartment. As much as he wants to rush back, he spends some time with her in the park, tossing a ball across the length of it a few times to burn off some of her energy. Things with Loki and Sylvie are exciting and new, taking up a lot of his time, but he doesn't ever want to neglect Bopp.

Once she seems drained, they head back home and Bucky lets her off the leash once they're back inside. He locks the door behind him and smiles at their trash from dinner before shoving it down into the can and washing his hands. He gives Bopp a treat and she crunches on it as they walk down the hallway, turning off the lights.

"We're back," Bucky says as he enters the bedroom, leaving the door open for Bopp. As he strips back down to his sweats, Bopp goes over to Loki to demand some pets. "Did you miss us terribly?"

[thewrongpath]

As promised, Loki did a bit of tidying. Aided by magic, of course. Still, he searched out a set of clean sheets, because surprisingly, using magic to switch one for the other was a simpler, more efficient spell than trying to clean the others.

Most assumed that the magic cost him nothing, but it did require quite a lot of energy, along with the skill and will to wield it. He would admit fully that it wasn't the same type of labor as doing it all by hand, but he expended more to take care of himself now than he ever had in the palace, with its endless parade of staff.

By the time Bucky and Bopp returned, he was sitting atop clean sheets, flipping idly through a book he'd found on the shelf in Bucky's living room. "Oh, you know me. I soldiered on," Loki drawled, scratching behind Bopp's ears as she'd commanded.

"How did the two of you fair? Were you bereft without me?"

[semi_stable]

"Completely," Bucky replies easily, smirking over at him as he pauses in the bathroom door, doing a bit of a double take. Loki is sitting up in his bed, long legs stretched out across navy blue sheets, head bowed as he reads a book. The sight makes him feel-- well, the only word that comes to mind is cozy. It's unfamiliar and warm and Bucky smiles to himself as he heads into the bathroom.

He relieves himself and then washes his hands, quickly brushing his teeth before heading back into the bedroom. With an exhausted huff, he falls forward onto his stomach next to Loki, pulling himself forward with his elbows before going limp. "I see you made yourself at home."

[thewrongpath]

"Would you rather I not?" Loki murmured with a faint smirk, turning a page of the book, which he was quite obviously no longer paying attention to. It was a dog-eared, paperback copy of Chandler's Farewell, My Lovely, most likely purchased secondhand.

He cut Bucky a look, eyes bright but desperately soft, his bare toes nudging against Bucky's ankle. "Drifting off already?"

[semi_stable]

"No, I don't mind," Bucky says easily, which means a lot coming from him. He went so long without any privacy at all and now he's very protective of it, but certain people are allowed some wiggle room. This apartment might not feel like home, not even to him, but he wants Loki to feel comfortable there.

"What can I say? You wore me out," Bucky drawls, teasingly stroking Loki's ego as he shifts to lay on his side, eyes half-lidded as he smiles up at Loki. "Shop's closed for the night, pal."

He laughs a little and tucks a pillow under his head, letting himself take advantage of the calm that was rubbed into him by Loki's hand, fucked into him by his cock. He feels pampered, safe, and he knows it can't last, but he's happy to have felt it for a little while.

[thewrongpath]

"The shop?" Loki laughed, setting the book aside on the bedside table and slumping lower on the pillows, his hands laced casually atop his own belly.

He stifled a yawn of his own, his own lids drooping as Bucky looked up at him with that sleepy, contented smile.

"It's been a long day," Loki acknowledged, knuckles brushing the curve of Bucky's shoulder. "You ought to get some sleep."

[semi_stable]

"If you say so," Bucky murmurs, as if it's entirely Loki's idea to have him in bed right now. He smiles s little at the touch to his shoulder and then closes his eyes, taking a deep breath and relaxing. He falls asleep almost immediately, which is a testament to just how worn out he is.

For a couple hours, he sleeps uninterrupted and doesn't dream at all, but then somewhere in the distance a car backfires and the sound of it worms its way into Bucky's subconscious. Maybe that's what triggers the nightmare, or maybe it's nothing but his own mind turning on him.

Bucky had known that the peace wouldn't last, but the darkness comes for him so swiftly, almost as if it's enraged to have been kept at bay. The dream changes from Bucky being woken up, to that bone deep, icy chill, to Bucky being tortured, being brainwashed, having his life zapped away. And over all of it are those words.

And then the dream changes and Bucky, no-- the Winter Soldier, is walking through a ballroom, glittering glass crunching under his feet as he sweeps his weapon back and forth. He's checking for survivors, for witnesses, and even though he's supposed to be a blank slate, emotionless, he finds himself hoping that there aren't any.

No such luck. There's a girl in a green dress cowering under a table, and he can't tell if she's someone's daughter or someone's too-young date, but it doesn't matter. She's seen him, so she has to be eliminated.

"Please! Please, no. I'm not even supposed to be here. I won't say any--"

He pulls the trigger. It isn't a dream but a memory, a new one, and Bucky stiffens in his sleep, brow drenched with sweat. "No, no, no."

In the dream, another bang. Out loud, he yells, gasping out a sob.

[thewrongpath]

Loki slept, having turned over onto his stomach in the night, the sheets puddled around them both, their bodies curled close to one another without touching. He wasn't certain for how long he'd slept, deep and largely dreamless, when suddenly he was wide awake, staring into the darkness of Bucky's bedroom, his heartbeat lurching in his chest.

At first, he wasn't aware of what had roused him, and sitting upright, he peered into the darkness, moments away from retrieving a knife to defend them both. Then, he heard a low, mournful groan, Bucky's body clammy with sweat and ripcord tense at his side.

Loki startled when Bucky let out another anguished shout, his heart nearly leaping into his throat when the bed suddenly dipped, Bopp jumping softly onto the mattress and shoving herself bodily between them.

"Alright," he murmured to her, the bedside lamp flicking on with a surge of magic. "It's alright."

[semi_stable]

For a long moment, Bucky feels stuck somewhere between asleep and awake, paralyzed and stuck behind the mask, trapped under ice, and he can't move. There's a pressure against his chest, firm and warm, but it's the voice that wakes him up.

Bucky lets out a startled yelp as his eyes open and he suddenly sits up, chest heaving as he sucks in deep, ragged breaths. Bopp is there like she always is when this happens, pressing firmly against him, and he lets out a helpless sob as he curls his good arm around her.

It's only then that he remembers that he wasn't alone and he looks over at Loki with a hitched breath, pushing back to crowd against the headboard like a frightened animal.

[thewrongpath]

"Bucky," Loki murmured, shifting to face the other man, his legs folded up beneath himself and his hands held where Bucky could see them.

"It's only me. You're alright," he murmured, his voice pitched to a low rumble. Judging by the darkness outside, it was late, well past midnight, but still, he heard a car drive past, breaking through the eerie quiet.

Loki reached for him, but hesitated, his palm hovering just inches from Bucky's heaving chest.

[semi_stable]

For a panicked moment, he doesn’t look like Bucky at all. His eyes are wild and blank, the eyes of the Winter Soldier, and he stares at Loki for a bit, almost uncomprehending.

But then everything comes back to him in a rush and, aided by Bopp licking at his hand and pressing her furry body against his side. And also by Loki, voice quiet and hand outstretched. Bucky stares at it, lip quivering, and then squeezes his eyes shut and knocks his head back against the wall a few times, burying his face in his hands.

“Fuck,” he breathes out shakily, keeping his face covered with his metal hand as he reaches out blindly toward Loki with the other.