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Summary
He hadn’t died in the Chitauri Invasion. Not even when he’d wanted to. He’d been scared of the pain but not the dying. He’d be pissed at his concept of G-d but the universe wasn’t unfair or ironic it was simply indifferent. A single human named Bucky Barnes among the billions to have existed and will have ever existed was as inconsequential as an atom. He didn’t ask to be born, didn’t ask for this body and had no hope of a world to come. So he shot up with dirty needles and let older guys fuck him and stood close to the edge of the subway platform and wondered what it’d feel like to fall.
Note
Trigger warning: contains memories of 9/11, graphic depictions of disaster, depression, PTSD, and dissociation.