Don't I? [ Christ, she didn't want to hurt anyone, let alone kill. She didn't want any of that - but god, she didn't trust herself for one minute. She was fucked up, I'm fucked up... she wasn't the Bucky that Steph remembered to deserved, and fuck it all if tears were now falling silently down her face. I don't want to kill anyone but I want them dead, they hurt me, they hurt us, they hurt YOU.]

I can't do a-anything no more Steph, 'sall I can do for you now, 'sall I have to offer and I'm a sick fucker. Ma'd be so proud of her lady...

[ Breathing heavily, she curled in on herself further with the blanket tight around her. She's safe, think think think...god the alcohol had been such a bad idea and she'll probably hate herself even more in the morning than currently, but please just let her make it through the night...she can eat and get washed up and maybe she can feel human again. She has to. For Steph. Steph doesn't deserve babysitting a wreck of a person. ]

...but thanks for the drawing, sweetheart. Framed'd be real nice. Put it right above my bed....floor? something...where am I sleeping?

[ That's it, just focus on that. Focus on rest, on food, on Steph's golden soul.]

[ On real fucking Vermont syrup.]