Where Are We?
This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening. None of this is happening. I’m not here. I don’t want to be here. Here is not okay. Here is not safe. I’m not here. I’m not here!
“Bucky, breathe! It’s okay. It’s okay, just breathe.”
He’s crowding me again. He won’t – I can’t – I can’t breathe!
“Steve? What the hell is –”
“He’s having a panic attack. I – I don’t know what set him off. We were just – And then this!”
Go away. Go away. Go away. I’m not here. I’m not here. I’m not here. This isn’t real. Can’t be real.
“Give him some space! He’s rocking himself for god’s sake!”
Loud. Angry. Scary. Go away. Don’t look at me. Don’t look at me. Go away. I just want everyone to go away. Please, please, please go away.
The big blond steps away. His shadow isn’t looming over me anymore. He isn’t crowding me anymore. Isn’t trying to make me speak anymore.
That’s good. Very good.
…
Oh no. No, no, no.
I scramble back from the tall blond. Feel every vibration as my back thumps against the wall. Duck my head to protect my face. Brace for the blow.
…
…
…
No… pain?
“Hey.”
He… He isn’t crowding me. He isn’t coming over anymore. He’s sitting, over there, plenty of space. Plenty of space.
“We’re good. Just gonna chill,” he says.
He isn’t coming over. Won’t come over. Isn’t angry.
A flash of a smile. The smell of pizza. Some kind of game with cards. The feeling of falling asleep against a warm body.
The flashes of memories bring a sense of calm. Safety. Peace.
The shivers start to settle. My hand feels less and less numb. Breaths come smooth and slow.
“There we go. Good job.”
Good job. I did – I did a good job. I didn’t even have to do anything. No one made me do anything. I just sat. I sat here and he sat over there and I did a good job. I – I did good. He said I did good.
“Nice.”
What a nice smile. He has such a nice smile.
Oh, oh the head tilt. Why does that look familiar? Who saw him tilt his head like that?
“There we go. Now, what happened? Do you want to talk about it?”
A choice. He’s giving me a choice. The big blond didn’t give me a choice. Just kept asking and crowding and asking. Wouldn’t go away. Wouldn’t leave me alone. But now I have a choice. Maybe – Maybe he’s safe. Someone thinks he’s safe. He must be safe.
“It’s not mine.”
The smile drops a little. “What isn’t?”
Deep breaths. Deep breaths. You can do this.
“This.” I chance a glance at the foreign object attached to my shoulder. “I can’t – I can’t –”
Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Don’t look at it. Don’t look at it. Just tell him. Maybe – Maybe he will help you.
“Do you know how to get it off?”
There. There, I asked. I asked. I did it.
“The prosthetic arm?”
It has a name!
“Yes! That! Can you get it off?”
Please help me. Please get it off. I want it off. I need it off.
“Bucky, wha… I don’t understand. You’ve never taken it off before.”
Oh no. The big blond is – He’s going to crowd me again. He’s going to –
“Course I can help you get it off,” the tall blond says. “Steve. Why don’t you go upstairs and start making lunch?”
He’s looking at me with a… Why is he looking at me like that? Why is he sad?
Oh, he’s leaving? Just like that? Really?
“Can I come over? Or do you still need space for a while?”
The tall blond must have authority. That’s why the other left. This one is nice. This one gives me choices.
The question is hard to ask. “Please?”
He nods. The nice smile is back. It’s calming.