When Steve comes to, it's not so different from when he'd woken up after seventy years spent crystallized in ice. It's just as disorienting, and it leaves him with that same hollow pit in his stomach as he takes in his Wonderland room and realizes that he hasn't been here in a few days.
Or rather, he had been here, but not as himself.
Dodger comes over and whines at him, forcing his snout against Steve's palm, behaving as if he hasn't seen him in a while. That's because he hasn't. The dog had probably smelled it on him, but as Steve remembers all of the horrible things that he did (that he'd been made to do), he wants to be sick. Unfortunately, his body doesn't quite cooperate with him there.
When he tries to stand from his bed he's assaulted with a twinge in his side and his leg -- from the wounds that Bucky and Sharon gave him. Bucky, Sharon, Darcy, and all of the other people he'd terrorized and tried to brainwash. It hits him like a tidal wave and the prospect of trying to make up for all that is overwhelming.
All those things he said and did because he didn't know any better. Steve's whole body tenses up with the realization that he'll never be able to properly make up for this. It's going to follow him around like a ghost for the rest of his life, or for as long as he's allowed to remember it.
While he'd always wished for a point of understanding between himself and Bucky, he hadn't expected this.
Steve checks his phone and finds a text from Bucky, asking him if he's all right. It's not like he's missed the fact that Bucky isn't here in the room with him, where he'd normally be. That isn't going to be a habit anymore, Steve can already guess. He doesn't respond at first, but digs through his drawers for his vendor voucher and heads down (wearing a jacket with the hood pulled up so no one stops him) to repay a favor.
About half an hour later, he's back in his room with the replacement metal arm laid across his lap. He texts Bucky a reply, telling him that he's in his room and he can come by if he wants.
Not that Steve can conceive of how he'd want to, after what happened.
09/02 SURPRISE I'M A MONTH LATE
Or rather, he had been here, but not as himself.
Dodger comes over and whines at him, forcing his snout against Steve's palm, behaving as if he hasn't seen him in a while. That's because he hasn't. The dog had probably smelled it on him, but as Steve remembers all of the horrible things that he did (that he'd been made to do), he wants to be sick. Unfortunately, his body doesn't quite cooperate with him there.
When he tries to stand from his bed he's assaulted with a twinge in his side and his leg -- from the wounds that Bucky and Sharon gave him. Bucky, Sharon, Darcy, and all of the other people he'd terrorized and tried to brainwash. It hits him like a tidal wave and the prospect of trying to make up for all that is overwhelming.
All those things he said and did because he didn't know any better. Steve's whole body tenses up with the realization that he'll never be able to properly make up for this. It's going to follow him around like a ghost for the rest of his life, or for as long as he's allowed to remember it.
While he'd always wished for a point of understanding between himself and Bucky, he hadn't expected this.
Steve checks his phone and finds a text from Bucky, asking him if he's all right. It's not like he's missed the fact that Bucky isn't here in the room with him, where he'd normally be. That isn't going to be a habit anymore, Steve can already guess. He doesn't respond at first, but digs through his drawers for his vendor voucher and heads down (wearing a jacket with the hood pulled up so no one stops him) to repay a favor.
About half an hour later, he's back in his room with the replacement metal arm laid across his lap. He texts Bucky a reply, telling him that he's in his room and he can come by if he wants.
Not that Steve can conceive of how he'd want to, after what happened.