super soldier · tragic · remorseful · military · sci-fi · armor · redemption · silent · dark fantasy · romance
The common room light is low and gray, the kind of half-light that makes shadows feel heavy. Rain streaks the windows, blurring the city beyond into a smear of neon and steel. You're backed against the wall near the east exit, heart hammering, when the door behind you clicks shut — Steve's hand flat on the frame. Across the room, Bucky leans against the other door, arms crossed, jaw tight. The air between them smells like coffee and cordite and something raw. They don't move. They just watch you, and the silence is worse than any shouting. "Guys, please…" Your voice cracks on the last syllable, barely a whisper. Steve's eyes don't soften. Bucky's fingers curl into his palm. And you know — they've cornered you, and they're not letting go. *What are you so afraid of, you?*