Running || Open
Bucky took a deep breath, his head pounding with every movement he made. How long had he been running? He couldn't remember, but what did it matter anymore? He had nothing left, even the memories he had managed to regain were useless now. The world knew he wad The Winter Soldier, his face had been plastered across every news outlets for the last three weeks at least. All hope of living as normal of a life possible was gone. His chances of finding Steve, gone. Bucky let out a dry chuckle, void of any humor, what could he even have said to Steve? I'm sorry did not even begin to cover it, and it didn't even feel like a substantial place to start. "Fuck!" He screamed at the wall, hands gripping his temples, trying to force the physical and mental pain out to no avail. He couldn't keep going on like this, but hid options were limited. The only thing he knew for sure was that he didn't want to get Steve involved again. Captain America had enough to worry about, he didn't need his highly wanted criminal of a friend- old friend?- making his life anymore stressful. The former assassin packed up his few belongings, some clothes and notebooks, and took off. He couldn't remember what country he was in, but he knew where he was heading. He knew he wouldn't cause anymore trouble just as long as he could get as far away from The Avengers as possible.