Warning Signs: December 2015 (Rumlow&Barnes)
Lighting a small candle, blue eyes scanned the room.
The clock had struck midnight yet he rarely slept these days. The fear of torturous images playing out, leaving him anxious and distressed. He knew that every image he saw was real, it was something he’d done. The more memories that returned, the less his conscience could live with it.
Small journals littered the room, some leather backed, some paper. Ones in blue, others in black or red. Anything he could get his hands on had been used to scribble down every piece of information.
It didn’t matter to him whether it was good or bad. He needed to remember. He was terrified of losing himself again.
Running his fingers through his messily cut short hair as he sighed. The days were lonely and the nights even worse. How his life had ended up this way was often a thought that lingered on the mind. Not that his time in HYDRA had been any less lonely. At least now he wasn’t trapped within his mind.
One benefit from a lifetime of being an assassin was his attention to danger. His head snapped to the soft creak of floorboards and gentle breathing. Jumping back as he snatched for the gun under his pillow and held it up at the familiar figure stood in the door way.
Every sense in him was screaming to put the gun down. He was trained not to hurt this man. The obediant, mindless machine in him wanted to surrender to the other man’s dominance between them. Yet he couldn’t. He didn’t know if this man brought threat into somewhere he thought to be safe.
@crossed-my-bones
