freightcars: (Lɪᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀs ʙᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇɴᴛ ɪᴛ)
ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪɴᴛᴇʀ sᴏʟᴅɪᴇʀ ([personal profile] freightcars) wrote in [community profile] meadowlarking 2020-06-26 11:30 pm (UTC)

[ Seven years. Something happens to him, he can tell through context, through half-formed questions, through the look Daisy gave him. Something happens, and he gets less than seven years before it does.

Typical. Less than a decade. Great.

Maybe he should feel bitter - maybe he does, a little, but... at this point, he's mostly resigned. Perpetually tired, fatigued in a way that isn't physical or even really mental. Emotional, maybe, or spiritual - if you believe in that kind of thing. He doesn't, despite the fact that there's something called a goddamn soul stone. ]


I'm there. Got an apartment, got out of the safe house. Wasn't exactly conducive to sleep.

[ Which is why she hasn't seen him there. He doesn't routinely stop in for visits when he hears they have new displaced, either. He's not exactly the model personality for a welcoming committee. All the noise, the people, frankly even when it was dead quiet in the middle of the night it's the prickling awareness of strangers that kept his mind awake. Managed for a while, but without the serum peaking his recovery he can't go as long deprived. It started catching up.

It's on the tip of his tongue to offer - got an extra room.

Seems like it might be a little much to volunteer to a person who only knows him through Steve, and who he almost murdered three times. ]

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