I'll be fine. I've figured out I can use redwing to get around it.
[ That may or may not be a slight exaggeration. ]
I can't force you, but the offer's there. I just want things to be a little easier on you for a little while. please. and I ain't saying no on your behalf alone - no one else here has a crutch like I do.
[ It feels like a slap, and Sam has to press his eyes closed, glad Finn can't likely see the expression hidden behind the red visor.
He wants to tell Bucky that he lost about a month after getting home after Riley, that he didn't leave the bed, didn't do anything, barely ate. He has little to no recollection of those weeks, just lost them in a bottomless abyss. And if this unimaginable cruelty is lifted from him with the knowledge that it will come back, Sam thinks he might just find somewhere to lie down here, and he simply will not get back up again. Having this pain lifted only to live in anticipation of it returning would be worse than just soldiering through.
He wants to tell Bucky that. But he can't put it in text, and he cannot say it to Bucky in person, when he knows talking hurts Bucky in some way, too. With Bucky refusing the help, Sam cannot, will not speak his true hurt and fear into existence, his reason for not wanting the hallucinations lifted if they will return.
So what he texts back instead is: ]
fine
[ And he pulls the earpiece out afterwards, disengaging. They're done here. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
will you do it if the guy's got enough for the both of us?
no subject
[No. Not when other people need it more. People like-]
Just get the help, Sam. Please.
no subject
[ That may or may not be a slight exaggeration. ]
I can't force you, but the offer's there. I just want things to be a little easier on you for a little while. please. and I ain't saying no on your behalf alone - no one else here has a crutch like I do.
no subject
Take the damn help, or we're done here.
no subject
He wants to tell Bucky that he lost about a month after getting home after Riley, that he didn't leave the bed, didn't do anything, barely ate. He has little to no recollection of those weeks, just lost them in a bottomless abyss. And if this unimaginable cruelty is lifted from him with the knowledge that it will come back, Sam thinks he might just find somewhere to lie down here, and he simply will not get back up again. Having this pain lifted only to live in anticipation of it returning would be worse than just soldiering through.
He wants to tell Bucky that. But he can't put it in text, and he cannot say it to Bucky in person, when he knows talking hurts Bucky in some way, too. With Bucky refusing the help, Sam cannot, will not speak his true hurt and fear into existence, his reason for not wanting the hallucinations lifted if they will return.
So what he texts back instead is: ]
fine
[ And he pulls the earpiece out afterwards, disengaging. They're done here. ]