ever marching as to war

"Still my hands," Bucky murmurs, only half listening. It's always his hands, even when he's only a passenger in his own body. He's not much one for apologies, but Jason damn well deserves one, and the Island itself isn't likely to sprout a mouth anytime soon. The burden falls on him to shoulder, the responsibility of this mess entirely his own for lack of anyone else to blame. The Island doesn't count.

"I'm sorry."