[Rumlow knew that look. Remembered it when he had seen the Soldier get strapped to a chair, his memories about to be forcibly stripped from him. At the time, it had been fascinating, even if it was grotesque. Dehumanizing in a way even he hadn't experienced. Yet, once he had accepted it as part of the way things were, it never bothered him again.
Until he met him once more. Dead and in Hell.
Things had changed so much since then. What had began as part of a greater machination in revenge had shifted into something wholly different. Something Rumlow never would have predicted or even planned for. It was so far beyond his control, the longer he considered it, the more it worried him. Most of the time it was easy, just shove it into the box with the rest of those troubling emotions and focus on what was good. Focus on his next step.
But now. Rumlow looked at him. Saw him as more than the fist of HYDRA. More than just the weapon they had turned him into. His brows furrowed to see Bucky under such distress. He shifted closer, hoping he wasn't going to get a metal punch to his face.]
My Bucky.
[His voice was soft, but it didn't waver. Their eyes were locked, his own expression clearly showing the depths of emotion he had sunk to, a sharp contrast to Bucky's own. God, he hoped that he hadn't fucked up, fighting off the encroaching fear of failure.]
no subject
Until he met him once more. Dead and in Hell.
Things had changed so much since then. What had began as part of a greater machination in revenge had shifted into something wholly different. Something Rumlow never would have predicted or even planned for. It was so far beyond his control, the longer he considered it, the more it worried him. Most of the time it was easy, just shove it into the box with the rest of those troubling emotions and focus on what was good. Focus on his next step.
But now. Rumlow looked at him. Saw him as more than the fist of HYDRA. More than just the weapon they had turned him into. His brows furrowed to see Bucky under such distress. He shifted closer, hoping he wasn't going to get a metal punch to his face.]
My Bucky.
[His voice was soft, but it didn't waver. Their eyes were locked, his own expression clearly showing the depths of emotion he had sunk to, a sharp contrast to Bucky's own. God, he hoped that he hadn't fucked up, fighting off the encroaching fear of failure.]