[ Sam doesn't take the distance to heart - it's painful but necessary. That much he understands.
He takes a slow, shuddering breath as Bucky talks. Explains how this has to happen - how this will happen. Sam's fingertips feel numb. He thinks, for a moment that he can hear thunder rumbling in the distance, like an oncoming storm. Like a breeze about to pick up and scatter him to ash and dust.
But that doesn't matter right now.
That's not important right now. ]
I know you trust but. But I need you to hear this anyway.
[ Steadfast. he can be that for others, always. He's used to being that for others. ]
This is in your control. Once you... [ He swallows. ] Once you're under, nothing is happening that you haven't explicitly told me to do beforehand. For this situation here on board the station, that needs to be the framwork. And I know that don't make anything better for you. And I need you to know that if you can't look at me right away after that's alright. But I need you to hear me on this. You make the choices. You have the control... even if you give it to be temporarily.
[ It makes his skin crawl. The very thought of it. But for Bucky's safety. For all their safety. What Sam wants can't matter as much as what Bucky needs. ]
[Despite the seriousness of the situation, Bucky can't help but smile in response to Sam's words, however slight it might be. He trusts the man more than he trusts himself. Knows that, no matter what happens, Sam will make the right choices when the time comes. No matter how difficult they might be. Yet here he is regardless, trying to ease Bucky's worries. Because that's just the kind of person Sam is. The kind of hero.]
Only think I need you to do is make sure I don't hurt anyone. If that means you tell me to go sit in a corner all week, fine. That means you need to knock me out, do it. But whatever you ask me to do, I ain't holding any of this against you.
[Because he needs Sam to understand that. To believe it. Even if he does need to walk off and take some time to himself after, it won't have anything to do with Sam himself, and everything to do with the people who did this to him in the first place. Everything that Sam's doing now, that he's willing to take part in, is to help. Not to hurt.
Which is why, a moment later, Bucky reaches up to pull his dogtags out. Why he doesn't hesitate to take them off and hand them over to Sam instead. One of the few pieces of his past that he still clings to, being held on to by the only person in his future that he needs.]
[ Sam's dog tags are somewhere in the desert in Afghanistan. He'd never found Riley's, so he'd left his own behind as well. Unable to hold onto anything that might have remained of the one he once thought he'd marry, he now doesn't hesitate to reach for the man he intends to spend his life with, accepting the dog tags with a small nod. Hesitates only briefly before he slips them around his own neck, lets them sink under his shirt where they can sit on his skin. Safe. For Bucky to reclaim when he's ready. ]
Counting on it.
[ Sam takes a breath. Feels it burn in his lung for a moment before he exhales slowly. ]
I'll understand English after, so you don't need to worry about that part. It's just those ten words that- They've gotta be in Russian.
[He turns quiet then, his gaze shifting away for the time being. Back to the fire, the landscape. To the ridges where he knows the lights of the city would shine through if they took a brief walk west. It's only with his back to Sam that he finally breaks the silence. That he mutters a quiet word. Pauses. Clears his throat and tries again.]
Zhelaniye. Semnadtsatʹ. Rzhavyy.
[Only three words in, and he's already feeling queasy. He may not be capable of triggering himself. But he knows what's about to come. Knows that the feeling of dread, of pure terror will be setting in the moment that Sam starts to repeat those words back to him. But more importantly, he also knows that he needs to bite it back. To put a lid on it. Because Sam needs to know this. And he can't learn if Bucky's too busy cowering away from what needs to happen.]
[ It's when Bucky's back is turned that Sam nearly loses composure. That he stares at those shoulders, so familiar, and accepts the loaded gun Bucky's proverbially pressing into his hands. He sees the necessity. He knows exactly why Bucky's asking this of him.
It doesn't mean it's not breaking Sam. And for a moment his entire vision blurs as his eyes swim with tears he's struggling not to shed. Just like it was when Rhodey left the Smithsonian. Just like it was when he sat alone with Steve's bloodied shield - before it became Sam's shield, really and truly. Sam feels that pain and swallows it down.
Hopes that Bucky will forgive him.
Isn't sure he'll ever forgive himself.
And so he repeats, keeping the pain out of his voice. Makes himself sure and steadfast. Hopes that this is the only time he will ever have to inflict this upon Bucky, and isn't even sure they can both recover from even just once. ]
[He's trying. He really is. But when the first word slips out of Sam's mouth, he can't help the flinch that accompanies it. Can't help the way his breathing picks up immediately. A reaction to knowing just what will follow.
Sam won't use him. Won't force him to hurt somebody. To kill. The only orders that will come are the exact ones that they've already discussed. Ones to keep him away from others. And that-
That's what he fights to focus on. It's the one thought that keeps running through his mind. He trusts Sam completely. And this right here is only an extension of that trust.]
[His eyes are squeezed shut, hands curled in to fists as he fights to keep himself stood exactly where he is. As he forces himself not to turn tail and run straight out of there. He knows that Sam wouldn't stop him. Wouldn't look down on him for it. But he also knows that this needs to happen. There can't be another repeat of Scorpion's Bend.]
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He takes a slow, shuddering breath as Bucky talks. Explains how this has to happen - how this will happen. Sam's fingertips feel numb. He thinks, for a moment that he can hear thunder rumbling in the distance, like an oncoming storm. Like a breeze about to pick up and scatter him to ash and dust.
But that doesn't matter right now.
That's not important right now. ]
I know you trust but. But I need you to hear this anyway.
[ Steadfast. he can be that for others, always. He's used to being that for others. ]
This is in your control. Once you... [ He swallows. ] Once you're under, nothing is happening that you haven't explicitly told me to do beforehand. For this situation here on board the station, that needs to be the framwork. And I know that don't make anything better for you. And I need you to know that if you can't look at me right away after that's alright. But I need you to hear me on this. You make the choices. You have the control... even if you give it to be temporarily.
[ It makes his skin crawl. The very thought of it. But for Bucky's safety. For all their safety. What Sam wants can't matter as much as what Bucky needs. ]
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Only think I need you to do is make sure I don't hurt anyone. If that means you tell me to go sit in a corner all week, fine. That means you need to knock me out, do it. But whatever you ask me to do, I ain't holding any of this against you.
[Because he needs Sam to understand that. To believe it. Even if he does need to walk off and take some time to himself after, it won't have anything to do with Sam himself, and everything to do with the people who did this to him in the first place. Everything that Sam's doing now, that he's willing to take part in, is to help. Not to hurt.
Which is why, a moment later, Bucky reaches up to pull his dogtags out. Why he doesn't hesitate to take them off and hand them over to Sam instead. One of the few pieces of his past that he still clings to, being held on to by the only person in his future that he needs.]
I'll be back for those.
[However long it takes.]
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Counting on it.
[ Sam takes a breath. Feels it burn in his lung for a moment before he exhales slowly. ]
Alright. When you're ready.
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[He turns quiet then, his gaze shifting away for the time being. Back to the fire, the landscape. To the ridges where he knows the lights of the city would shine through if they took a brief walk west. It's only with his back to Sam that he finally breaks the silence. That he mutters a quiet word. Pauses. Clears his throat and tries again.]
Zhelaniye. Semnadtsatʹ. Rzhavyy.
[Only three words in, and he's already feeling queasy. He may not be capable of triggering himself. But he knows what's about to come. Knows that the feeling of dread, of pure terror will be setting in the moment that Sam starts to repeat those words back to him. But more importantly, he also knows that he needs to bite it back. To put a lid on it. Because Sam needs to know this. And he can't learn if Bucky's too busy cowering away from what needs to happen.]
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It doesn't mean it's not breaking Sam. And for a moment his entire vision blurs as his eyes swim with tears he's struggling not to shed. Just like it was when Rhodey left the Smithsonian. Just like it was when he sat alone with Steve's bloodied shield - before it became Sam's shield, really and truly. Sam feels that pain and swallows it down.
Hopes that Bucky will forgive him.
Isn't sure he'll ever forgive himself.
And so he repeats, keeping the pain out of his voice. Makes himself sure and steadfast. Hopes that this is the only time he will ever have to inflict this upon Bucky, and isn't even sure they can both recover from even just once. ]
Zhelaniye.
Semnadtsatʹ.
Rzhavyy.
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Sam won't use him. Won't force him to hurt somebody. To kill. The only orders that will come are the exact ones that they've already discussed. Ones to keep him away from others. And that-
That's what he fights to focus on. It's the one thought that keeps running through his mind. He trusts Sam completely. And this right here is only an extension of that trust.]
Rass- Rassvet. Pechʹ. Devyatʹ. Dobrokachestvennyy.
[His eyes are squeezed shut, hands curled in to fists as he fights to keep himself stood exactly where he is. As he forces himself not to turn tail and run straight out of there. He knows that Sam wouldn't stop him. Wouldn't look down on him for it. But he also knows that this needs to happen. There can't be another repeat of Scorpion's Bend.]