WWYCR: 0.2: chapter two

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a/n: there will be switched third-person point of views, but it'll be combined later in the story. third person limited for now, but third person omission later on! cool? how are you enjoying it?

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bucky:

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bucky looked up at the never ending red and orange of the world around him,  a small stream of light from the cracked stone him and half of what thanos had destroyed inside. buck's arms around his knees that were brought to his chest. hadn't he seen enough for his lifetime? or did god have more plans for the killing machine he had been?

he rocked himself forward and back, in a trance. not a crimson one, a navy one. one of fear, complete discomfort throughout. his arm was broken, only his shoulder part would work. red and yellow swirled throughout his chest in a hurricane's format. killing him anxiously. brown, black, and blue vomit in his throat. his steel blue eyes not focused on a thing, other than one thought.

to get the hell home.

"uh, dr. strange sir, is he okay?" the young peter parker asked, groot pouting in the corner of the small cave they were all in. dr. strange sighed, looking down at the teenager. wondering how tony dealt with the constantly curious and awkward boy. full of sky blue and red, matching the hero's palate that he was.

"no peter, he isn't" the doctor replied, he tapped bucky on the shoulder, who shook out of his trance, his breathing quicken, dr. strange knelt down to him, holding him still in an awkward, yet warm hug.

"shh, it's okay. bucky, right? it's not as bad as it seems." he assured, buck'y eyes locked with the cloaked man's lighter blues. his cheekbones well defined, bucky's eyes started to line with red, rain pouring from his steal clouds. vulnerability taking over him.

"b-but they're d-d-dying strange. people a-are dying!" bucky said, peter laughed to himself at that, bucky held up a fist, the fifteen year old gulped, the doctor continued to hold the solider.

"i know. i know calm down bucky. we're going to get out of here sooner or later." he said, bucky nuzzled into his chest, imagining he was steve. he knew he should've told him before they went out. but of course, being his constantly torn self, he couldn't.

"it's all k-karma." the solider said, dr. strange sighed.

"i'm sorry you had no control over any of it. just breath now. count slowly and go along with it. please. we don't need you dying from your post traumatic stress." he said, bucky caught his breathing in his grasp, slowing the overly-quickened puffs of air to a minimum, the doctor letting go after enough time had passed, holding the older man's shoulders. forever torn inside his mind, world war two never ended for him. never.

"better?" he asked, peter looked over with concerned, feelings of regret in his facial expression. 

"sorry mr. barnes. i-i" "it's fine kid. just think before you speak, got it?" he said sternly. the red coming out from the walls through bucky's tone. not like him. he wanted to cry right there from it. it wasn't him.

"got it s-sir. i still think your arm's really cool. maybe we can fix it with-" "peter, we don't have time for repairs. we need to get to... wherever the universe is. favorably; earth." dr. strange cut in, peter sighed in blue. knowing he's never been able to speak a full sentence with anyone in this stone, bucky took notice.

"strange, let the kid talk. you've been cutting him off for three weeks like he's five." bucky said, root perked up in the corner.

"i am groot." he mumbled, peter looked over his shoulder, and back to the crying half robot, and wizard in front of him.

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