Radioactive | Bucky Barnes

THOR 2: CHAPTER SIX

AUTHORS NOTE: 

I am sorry for the long hiatus. 

TRIGGER WARNING - Suicide Attempt - Self Harm - Just...bad stuff. 

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Two months ago i had harmed myself bad enough to need sixteen stitches. I think part of myself wanted to just stop the pain. I had be diagnosed with MS, and the seizures, headaches and migraines, the fatigue and tiredness and not...living the life I thought I would at this age. It all drowned me at once. 

Then came the lawsuits because I wasn't paying my medical bills (America) I had lost everything. At least, at the time. I thought I had lost everything. I lost communities of friends in the spam of months one after the other. Gone. Safe places I had disappeared. 

I only had me and my body that was slowly just...giving up on me. That's what it felt like. 

I am still finding my way back out of this darkness. There are really bad days. But there are good days. With glimmers spread throughout. I'm trying to hold onto little pieces of string, weaving it into a rope that I'll once again walk steadily across.  

The last two years took so much from me. The last six years pushed me into something I never acknowledged until it was almost to late to do so. 

Depression is a battle. 24/7/. Anxiety is a crushing feeling that seems to always sit on your chest. At least, mine does. 

If you handle this: like me; you are a true warrior. 

I lost puzzle pieces of my old life and am a half finished puzzle with spaces I need to refill with crayon covered paper. It's messy. But tonight, I finally felt like writing. 

after all time this. I felt like writing. 

I hope my work brings a smile to someone's face. I hope my stories help someone. Because, honestly, the only reason I write is to escape and if that helps you, too. 

I've done my job. 

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The battlefield stretched farther than Rhiley's eyes could follow, smoke clawing at the sky, golden towers cracked and bleeding fire. She had been moving on instinct—keep upright, keep fighting, keep the ache in her chest hidden—but when a blast hurled her against the ribs of a collapsing archway, she knew she'd lost track of Thor.

"Sif!" Her voice rasped through the smoke. "Thor?!"

Only silence. Shouts rang from distant streets. Steel against steel. Her ears rang. Blood smeared warm at her temple. She staggered to her feet, breath shallow, the Phoenix stirring uneasily beneath her skin.

Something pulled her. Not sight, not sound—something older, heavier. She followed it through broken corridors until the ruins opened into the throne room.

And froze.

Frigga lay draped in her robes, blood blooming through gold. Odin knelt at her side, his grief carved into stone. Thor was already there, on his knees, his hand clawed into the shattered floor as though he could hold the world still if he pressed hard enough. His eyes never left his mother.

Rhiley stepped forward, slow, cautious. Her chest tightened at the sight.

"She fought to the last," Odin said, voice cracked and low, brushing a strand of silver hair from Frigga's still face.

Thor's jaw trembled. His hand hovered, then clasped his mother's cold fingers. "She didn't deserve this."

Rhiley knelt beside him, words faltering in her throat. "I'm sorry. I tried to—" She swallowed. "I didn't know."