Am I... The Villian? {~Book One~} {~2021-2022~}

Chapter Seventeen; {~Keep it away from me~}

{~11/05/2021~}
{~Unedited~}
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Ever Enough
{~Book; One~}
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WARNING: ⚠️
{~This chapter contains, Panic Attack, mentions of abuse, forms of self harm, abuse, torture if I missed any please tell me~}

{~Previously On~}

  "I swear that I'll never leave you... I swear upon it."

Despite that all, despite the fear and overwhelming feeling of emptiness, Peter was left to face reality. The one he was currently in no matter how real or how fake it could've been. A part of him wished it were fake, the reasons unknown to the boy. Maybe because he was done with being let down... maybe because he didn't want a life that could be so easily taken from him again...

The other part of him wished so desperately it was real. Because right here, in this so called real or fake reality, Peter for the first time in a long time had felt something foreign.

"Safe..."

For the first time in a long time he had felt safe.

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{~Present Time~}
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Third Person Pov~
  Bucky watched with half lidded eyes as Steve pranced around his room, carrying boxes from one side to another, soon emptying out the contents before tossing them in their proper places. Bucky felt as if he were a child watching his mother rummage through their school bag like they were expecting to find something. Bucky not knowing what he should do, slipped out of the room.

  The man began down the hallway, wearing the same clothes he had been in for the past week and a half as he dragged one foot after the other sluggishly. He couldn't ever find the energy to take a shower let alone sit up from the floor. However, ever since Stephan had broke the news that they were getting different room arrangements, Bucky was forced from his comfort zone.

  As much as Bucky wouldn't like to admit it, walking around was rather relaxing for the older man. The feeling of moving rather then collecting dust on the floor was nice, though the upright position reminded him or worse times. Times where he spent hours upon hours tired up to the wall like some animal at a butchery. The metaphor was rather accurate because they had been bloodying him rather relentlessly.

  Sighing the man sulked his way over to a couch, soon collapsing into it as he was too tired to do anything else. He was drained already, his social battery had gone out even before the morning had started, he was running on fumes and it was noticeable. Sure he wasn't one to to talk or even acknowledge your presence when spoken too, but now he wouldn't even open his eyes.

  "Hey Bucky!" Sam called cheerful, his usual chipper attitude leaking through the words that still felt so off spilling from his lips. Sure it's almost been a year since Bucky returned, but even so, it didn't feel real. This wasn't the Bucky he remembered, this wasn't the Bucky he learned to care for after their constant disputes and endless bickering. This was no more then the skin suit. The shell of a man long forgotten. The word Bucky didn't feel right as to Sam, this wasn't the Bucky he remembered.

  "I heard that the kid is going to be staying on our level. Isn't that exciting?!" Sam called once more. He was trying to cheer the man up, trying to rub his upbeat mood all over his friend as he hoped it was contagious. Though it was a futile attempt because the emotion Bucky bared next was surely one to be remembered.