idly he wonders if he’ll ever be free of him. if the soldier hydra had engraved into his mind ran too deep for anyone to handle. if he simply is a lost cause. broken beyond salvation, despite how hard everyone tried to help. it would take time, they said. they’ll figure it out. regardless of how quickly he’d lost control on their last session. he’s not too much of a threat without the arm, but the dora still felt need to interfere. knock him down, until his mind would be his once more. shuri kept an optimistic outlook, regardless, repeating they’ll make it work and bucky .. bucky left not feeling anything at all.

      “ спутник . “

   one word. a single word is enough to stop him in his tracks, body freezing on its own -- the feeling both confusing and terrifying, feeling entirely too close to so many times it had done so before. on a whim. someone else’s whim, not his own. it’s the last thing bucky registers at this point, as brows furrow together, mind trying to fight the familiar feeling -- zemo smirking like a complete maniac, expression akin to something in between excitement and absolute shock ( as if he hadn’t expected it to work -- no one did ), before he’s out like a light. 

   instead there’s the familiar sentence. as if on repeat -- russian, spoken for the first time in what seemed an eternity by now. programming he was supposed to be free of returning so easily, so quickly, it’s worrisome to anyone else, but the baron, siccing him on the dora, like an obedient dog, while he makes his escape. 

the crunch that had resonated with a particularly hard blow rings in his ears, even as the sparring session is broken off. he’d been told to train with her, make use of the new arm and get accustomed to it, considering it’s on a whole different level than the one hydra had stapled on him. and it is, it’s powerful -- so powerful that when the opportunity to land a hit came, bucky took it, unknowingly putting too much power behind it. 

👁 Wake my muse up during a nightmare

Non Verbal RP Starters || Accepting!

Nightmares are more commonplace for him than he’d like to admit. Every time he thinks they can’t any more worse, his mind finds some new way to make him suffer. A lot of them call back to Halfworld. Other times they’re about the countless fights he’s gotten in over time. Ones that didn’t go according to plan. Sometimes they’re about the future and just how bad things could go if he wasn’t careful, and other times it’s all of the above. 

As well as medicine for chronic pain, he often takes something for nightmares and sleep, but being on the moon has left him without his prescription. So he’s found thrashing around on the floor, his fur puffed up and whimpering like a scared little animal. Automatically shooting up at attention when a hand touches him in his sleep. Not bothering to see who it is before scrambling off on all fours embarrassed.