steverogers_awakening | (no subject)

(no subject)

I think about you all the time. I worry. I worry constantly. I wonder--do I have it in me to try to make you come home? Or at least to try to make you take shelter somewhere where I know you're okay?

I've started so many entries to you, doing just that. Using emotional blackmail. I'm pretty sure I know the words I could use to force your hand, but I always end up deleting them again. It wouldn't be fair, and it wouldn't be right, and I wouldn't ever be able to look myself in the eyes again.

But I'd know you were safe. Maybe knowing you're safe is worth becoming the kind of person I can't respect.

And maybe if I said any of this for real, I would have already crossed that line.

Be safe.

It's my fault, anyway.

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What kind of help is there for this? Go somewhere with straitjackets, where I can be contained? I'm not being imprisoned again.

I was thinking more along the lines of a counselor. You can come see mine; she's great.

What is she going to say? "How do you feel about being a brainwashed killing machine?"

That's a start!

No, she'll be calling the guys with the butterfly nets.

The heck she will. I'm not letting anyone hurt you, Buck.

Did you say that on purpose?

What? That I'm not going to let anyone hurt you? You should know that already. You know how I feel about you.

You called me Buck.

I

Oh

Steve?

I'm

I have to go.

Do you need me?

I have to go.

I understand.

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