[He winces at what was apparently not a ceremonious entry. He'd apologize but its Bucky what chose such.
He laughs but it's more rueful and sad than anything. His arms fold over his chest.]
He can't hurt me, John. He might be one of the few humans what I could fair fight with, but I'm still stronger and I can take more pain. I'd have taken some if I thought at it could help. [He sighs.]
He was my friend, in Panem. We were soldiers. And slaves. We could ease by one another, not having to pretend. But he's gotten all the motherfuck worse and there ain't seeming like to be anything what at I can do about it. Or maybe I just overestimated what friendship as at there was and the one what got up by Panem would've been just as undone in truth. [That isn't what John asked. He raises a hand to run through his hair.] ...I'm fine. I'm just getting up in my own nug is all.
I'm not sure you overestimated your friendship with the Bucky you knew in Panem... just the one here. He's like me. Neither of us do very well knowing there's someone in our head or with the idea that there's some other version of us running around out in the multi-verse, telling people we haven't met things we might not want them to know.
[Not physically. Well. That is a different story ain't it?]
We ain't friends here. [He puts it out, but it ain't really to deny what John says.] The last we talked, I thought we could be, our likeness all came out like before, but he got on like how he ought to be killed and I fuckin panicked cause it felt like I was losing everybody then. Warded him off. [And everyone saw what happened after the shit with Sherlock.] Was the old me what somehow made friendly by that other Bucky. I can't be him anymore, just like he ain't exact of who I knew, but it don't make it easier to just stop giving a shit. I've tried talking, tried keeping distance but clearly... [He gestures between them both, standing in the aftermath of Bucky's ruins, just to show how well that worked.
He shakes his head after a moment. This is all moot now. He surprises himself with a laugh.]
That's what's funny don't you know? About knowing fear. It don't tell me what's good, the things what motherfucking matter of a person. I don't know how much as there is of courage or will or want being to combat what fear is had. I never fucking know what's the right thing to say or do up about any of it. Couldn't know no one's name or what makes them happy lest they was that scared of losing it. I got no idea who anyone is. Least not until they can trust me despite.
[Sighs.]
I just had worry on for Bucky. Mere wanting him to be alright. But we're both going at to go back to whatever it all is we up and do for, I'm sure. It's kind, but you ain't need to worry about me.
[John frowns up at the troll, less in displeasure and more because he doesn't know what to do to fix this. It might not be something that can be fixed, and that's a depressing thought, in and of itself. The world would be a neater place if everything had a ready and prescribed solution.
It would also make life incredibly tedious.]
I'll see what I can do try to mellow him out a bit. He doesn't trust me entirely, either, if it helps. [It hurts to recount this, but he has a point to make.] Bucky doesn't have to trust you unconditionally to be your friend. He just has to trust you enough. The block'll help with that.
[He laughs, short and mirthless. Then shakes his head.]
No, hearing he ain't got no one he trusts doesn't do all for helping much. That's something sad what to hear. [But he does smile at John a little, despite himself.] I know how he feels. Not the fear, but the being... broken. And the harsher bits too, if not all in sync. Neither's something good what to try and bear alone. I'm not sure any motherfucker can. [Which is all to say...] So, I hope you're right. Even if he ain't friendly by me, if he's alright, that's what motherfucking matters.
[John nods. He does wish he could offer a little more comfort than that, but it's going to be cold comfort where Bucky Barnes is concerned, really. Not many ways around that.]
We'll see. Until then, I'll try to make sure I tell anyone else to warn you before they go rushing off to put a block on. I really am sorry about that.
[Mostly. There's a part of him that's still wary of Izzy that thinks a lack of warning is probably best to double-check that it's actually working.]
[There's a fear that all everyone might block him out. He'll be locked in the dark again, cut off. There's a fear that someone will show what truly does have at them something to hide, something of harm, what will see to it such harm ain't known until it's too late. He fears that he will be too feared for anyone to give him so much as a chance. He fears a lot of motherfucking things what make him want to demand that John say nothing of it.
But he's not going to hide himself. It probably wouldn't work anyway. He'd just be letting the fear win for no purpose. So after a long and very uncertain pause, he speaks.]
Sure. [Sure-sounding his tones ain't.] Would mean fair bit, brother. Take care then.
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He laughs but it's more rueful and sad than anything. His arms fold over his chest.]
He can't hurt me, John. He might be one of the few humans what I could fair fight with, but I'm still stronger and I can take more pain. I'd have taken some if I thought at it could help. [He sighs.]
He was my friend, in Panem. We were soldiers. And slaves. We could ease by one another, not having to pretend. But he's gotten all the motherfuck worse and there ain't seeming like to be anything what at I can do about it. Or maybe I just overestimated what friendship as at there was and the one what got up by Panem would've been just as undone in truth. [That isn't what John asked. He raises a hand to run through his hair.] ...I'm fine. I'm just getting up in my own nug is all.
no subject
[He does mean it honestly to be kind.]
I'm not sure you overestimated your friendship with the Bucky you knew in Panem... just the one here. He's like me. Neither of us do very well knowing there's someone in our head or with the idea that there's some other version of us running around out in the multi-verse, telling people we haven't met things we might not want them to know.
cw: suicidal ideation mention
We ain't friends here. [He puts it out, but it ain't really to deny what John says.] The last we talked, I thought we could be, our likeness all came out like before, but he got on like how he ought to be killed and I fuckin panicked cause it felt like I was losing everybody then. Warded him off. [And everyone saw what happened after the shit with Sherlock.] Was the old me what somehow made friendly by that other Bucky. I can't be him anymore, just like he ain't exact of who I knew, but it don't make it easier to just stop giving a shit. I've tried talking, tried keeping distance but clearly... [He gestures between them both, standing in the aftermath of Bucky's ruins, just to show how well that worked.
He shakes his head after a moment. This is all moot now. He surprises himself with a laugh.]
That's what's funny don't you know? About knowing fear. It don't tell me what's good, the things what motherfucking matter of a person. I don't know how much as there is of courage or will or want being to combat what fear is had. I never fucking know what's the right thing to say or do up about any of it. Couldn't know no one's name or what makes them happy lest they was that scared of losing it. I got no idea who anyone is. Least not until they can trust me despite.
[Sighs.]
I just had worry on for Bucky. Mere wanting him to be alright. But we're both going at to go back to whatever it all is we up and do for, I'm sure. It's kind, but you ain't need to worry about me.
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It would also make life incredibly tedious.]
I'll see what I can do try to mellow him out a bit. He doesn't trust me entirely, either, if it helps. [It hurts to recount this, but he has a point to make.] Bucky doesn't have to trust you unconditionally to be your friend. He just has to trust you enough. The block'll help with that.
[It's helped John's peace of mind.]
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No, hearing he ain't got no one he trusts doesn't do all for helping much. That's something sad what to hear. [But he does smile at John a little, despite himself.] I know how he feels. Not the fear, but the being... broken. And the harsher bits too, if not all in sync. Neither's something good what to try and bear alone. I'm not sure any motherfucker can. [Which is all to say...] So, I hope you're right. Even if he ain't friendly by me, if he's alright, that's what motherfucking matters.
no subject
We'll see. Until then, I'll try to make sure I tell anyone else to warn you before they go rushing off to put a block on. I really am sorry about that.
[Mostly. There's a part of him that's still wary of Izzy that thinks a lack of warning is probably best to double-check that it's actually working.]
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But he's not going to hide himself. It probably wouldn't work anyway. He'd just be letting the fear win for no purpose. So after a long and very uncertain pause, he speaks.]
Sure. [Sure-sounding his tones ain't.] Would mean fair bit, brother. Take care then.
no subject
You, too, Izzy.
[And he'll head off. At least he's offered some sort of explanation and reassurance? Not a lot. But... some.]