[ Bucky's response is quiet, tentative, but warm. There isn't very much that he will withhold from Steve even now -- because what the mind forgets, the heart remembers; and he had loved Steve enough to follow him into hell. It was not choice, it was something stronger and more powerful, the instinct to protect what he holds precious, no matter the personal cost.
Steve is what's precious, the knowledge of that buried under so much trauma and pain and anger -- and he is reminded of it now, a pleasant warmth in his chest he had long believed was dead. It had never left, not really. Dryly, he comments: ]
You sure the both of us can fit in there? [ Actually, he doesn't care. He'll probably squeeze right in there with him. ]
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[ Bucky's response is quiet, tentative, but warm. There isn't very much that he will withhold from Steve even now -- because what the mind forgets, the heart remembers; and he had loved Steve enough to follow him into hell. It was not choice, it was something stronger and more powerful, the instinct to protect what he holds precious, no matter the personal cost.
Steve is what's precious, the knowledge of that buried under so much trauma and pain and anger -- and he is reminded of it now, a pleasant warmth in his chest he had long believed was dead. It had never left, not really. Dryly, he comments: ]
You sure the both of us can fit in there? [ Actually, he doesn't care. He'll probably squeeze right in there with him. ]