[He follows after Sam, because of course he does. It's not like he's ever going to say no if the man asks for his help. And with the way the station has started to fall apart, the only chance he's leaving Sam alone any time soon is if Natasha is there to watch his six instead. So with her current absence, here he is.
It's when the simulation room kicks to life that he finds himself both annoyed and relieved that he came along. Annoyed, because now he's trapped here too. But relieved because, well- He may not have ever visited The Raft, but he knows a prison when he sees it. Knows that, even without Sam's quiet mutter, it's a place that means something to him. Something bad. And for a brief moment, Bucky ends up resting a hand against Sam's shoulder in a quiet display of support. A squeeze to prove to Sam that he isn't alone here. That even if this was all real, neither of them are getting left behind.]
Come on. We're getting out of here.
[And with that, he heads over to the bars. Stares at that transparent sheet of whatever it is that's blocking their escape. The fingers of his left hand curl into a fist, ready to be thrown. But before he makes it even half way, his swing falters, and he ends up doing little more than tapping the window. A dull thud that's inaudible to him over the sudden thumping of his own heart. His body tenses entirely, his attention fixed on something sitting openly on the other side of the barrier. And for a long moment, he kinds himself frozen in place.
That chair wasn't there a moment ago.
(Viveca's got a lot to answer for.)
His fist becomes a palm, fingers gouging scratches against the window without his knowledge. Right before he smacks a palm against it and spins back around to face Sam once again. Or rather, the sealed doors at the back of the cell.]
here to pile on the trauma
It's when the simulation room kicks to life that he finds himself both annoyed and relieved that he came along. Annoyed, because now he's trapped here too. But relieved because, well- He may not have ever visited The Raft, but he knows a prison when he sees it. Knows that, even without Sam's quiet mutter, it's a place that means something to him. Something bad. And for a brief moment, Bucky ends up resting a hand against Sam's shoulder in a quiet display of support. A squeeze to prove to Sam that he isn't alone here. That even if this was all real, neither of them are getting left behind.]
Come on. We're getting out of here.
[And with that, he heads over to the bars. Stares at that transparent sheet of whatever it is that's blocking their escape. The fingers of his left hand curl into a fist, ready to be thrown. But before he makes it even half way, his swing falters, and he ends up doing little more than tapping the window. A dull thud that's inaudible to him over the sudden thumping of his own heart. His body tenses entirely, his attention fixed on something sitting openly on the other side of the barrier. And for a long moment, he kinds himself frozen in place.
That chair wasn't there a moment ago.
(Viveca's got a lot to answer for.)
His fist becomes a palm, fingers gouging scratches against the window without his knowledge. Right before he smacks a palm against it and spins back around to face Sam once again. Or rather, the sealed doors at the back of the cell.]
We're going that way.