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[Hot dog and a cold beer. Bucky can definitely handle that. He's reluctant to disentangle entirely with the crowd jostling around them, so he tries to curl his fingers into the fabric of Steve's shirt. Shaking his head, Bucky forms the words in the link rather than speaking, not wanting them to get lost in the mix of the crowd as they move.]
( Not my thing. ) [He avoided it to keep the Soldier down, but the Soldier came out anyway. Bucky's link dims and quiets for a moment, not wanting to share that part with Steve, but his walls are incomplete and transparent.]
( Not my thing. ) [He avoided it to keep the Soldier down, but the Soldier came out anyway. Bucky's link dims and quiets for a moment, not wanting to share that part with Steve, but his walls are incomplete and transparent.]
[ His end of the link hums, active in thought and question. ]
( Sam said you guys had a fight. ) [ Taking the cue to switch back to mindspeak. With a tug he tries to pull away from Bucky's grip on his shirt, instead moving to loop their arms together loosely at the elbow. ]
( Sam said you guys had a fight. ) [ Taking the cue to switch back to mindspeak. With a tug he tries to pull away from Bucky's grip on his shirt, instead moving to loop their arms together loosely at the elbow. ]
[Bucky hesitates for a moment at the not-question. Flashes of that night play before he can stop them. Sitting at the register in the pet store, looking up at the chime, and Sam's memories fill in the blanks. A gun pressed against Bucky's head, the lights go out, and Bucky kills two of the would-be-robbers before he turns on Sam. Bucky's own memories come back after that, when he wakes up in a halo of glass with a pounding headache, shouting at Sam about the promise--- the promise he kept from Steve he's remembering now. Next time is the last time. How Bucky planned on never hurting another innocent bystander and the bone-deep grief that spilled out of him when it did happen again without the end he expected.
Not really 'welcome back buddy' stuff.
Bucky tries to withdraw, to tuck it all back in, but he's already let too much of it through. He and Sam shouted and screamed at each other before Bucky ran. Then there were days of locking himself away, rationing his food to keep himself from needing to go out into crowds.
An attempt to say no to Sam resulted in the programming burning Bucky from the inside out. He's not supposed to be able to do that. Sam carried him to a hotel room, let Bucky crawl into his head while waiting out HYDRA's latent defenses against an insubordinate soldier, and then they had a long conversation about the symbiote, about Bucky's apparent powers that set off the Soldier.]
Not really 'welcome back buddy' stuff.
Bucky tries to withdraw, to tuck it all back in, but he's already let too much of it through. He and Sam shouted and screamed at each other before Bucky ran. Then there were days of locking himself away, rationing his food to keep himself from needing to go out into crowds.
An attempt to say no to Sam resulted in the programming burning Bucky from the inside out. He's not supposed to be able to do that. Sam carried him to a hotel room, let Bucky crawl into his head while waiting out HYDRA's latent defenses against an insubordinate soldier, and then they had a long conversation about the symbiote, about Bucky's apparent powers that set off the Soldier.]
[ The memories create a double-vision, splitting the crowds in front of them with the shop, a cold barrel ghosting against his skull. Muscle memory kicks in, his mind working to separate the threads of reality and memory, self and other, while the rest of him processes the information. The robbery he knows. A phantom headache pounds in his head, he pushes it away to disentangle the rest of the scene - a thought, a promise. His blood runs cold.
Sam.
Even if he wanted to stop they can't, his feet keep walking, arm still around Bucky's. He's leading now, finding a makeshift alley between haphazardly constructed stalls to bypass the street traffic. Goes quiet, expression turned inward. His grip on their connection remains, soft and pulsing with activity, but indecipherable beyond a few flickers of concentration. ]
Can we head back to your place? [ He's not so hungry anymore. ]
Sam.
Even if he wanted to stop they can't, his feet keep walking, arm still around Bucky's. He's leading now, finding a makeshift alley between haphazardly constructed stalls to bypass the street traffic. Goes quiet, expression turned inward. His grip on their connection remains, soft and pulsing with activity, but indecipherable beyond a few flickers of concentration. ]
Can we head back to your place? [ He's not so hungry anymore. ]
[Bucky realizes he's done something wrong far too late. He's spent most of his time on the Waypoint with Sam and since the robbery they've been deeper in each others' heads than ever. And, if Bucky's shields were bad in the past, they're worse now. The momentum between him and Steve changes, from leading to following, from easygoing to tense. Steve's end of the connection is quiet and Bucky can't help but feel like he's disappointed his friend.
Once out of the thoroughfare, Bucky speaks up, not wanting to let this hang.]
I asked him to. [The promise, he means. After Concordia. After returning and feeling more helpless than ever.]
Once out of the thoroughfare, Bucky speaks up, not wanting to let this hang.]
I asked him to. [The promise, he means. After Concordia. After returning and feeling more helpless than ever.]
[ Steve's gaze drops to the ground, shoulders hunching forward. ]
I know. [ He's not angry at Sam, or Bucky. He pulls in a deep breath, shaking his head as he exhales and some of the tension falls from his shoulders. And when he's sure that his thoughts are clear, he lowers the shields and widens the connection between them again, just enough for a thin stream: the sense of coming home after a long day's work, the shock of bad news, the frustration of being helpless to act. His jaw tightens. ]
Wasn't sure how long I'd been asleep. [ What I'd wake up to. How much time had passed. Who would be gone.
I don't want to lose you is what he struggles to say. And he won't pretend to be okay with this promise Bucky had Sam make, the thought of them going through with it makes him want to scream at them, but he knows that's not right either. ]
I know. [ He's not angry at Sam, or Bucky. He pulls in a deep breath, shaking his head as he exhales and some of the tension falls from his shoulders. And when he's sure that his thoughts are clear, he lowers the shields and widens the connection between them again, just enough for a thin stream: the sense of coming home after a long day's work, the shock of bad news, the frustration of being helpless to act. His jaw tightens. ]
Wasn't sure how long I'd been asleep. [ What I'd wake up to. How much time had passed. Who would be gone.
I don't want to lose you is what he struggles to say. And he won't pretend to be okay with this promise Bucky had Sam make, the thought of them going through with it makes him want to scream at them, but he knows that's not right either. ]
Edited 2017-05-11 05:36 (UTC)
[Bucky follows Steve's gaze down to the pavement, unsure of how to move or what to say. Part of him wants to tell Steve that he's not the Bucky from the past, that he's dangerous, that anyone in their right mind would lock him up or execute him. He's a killer, a criminal, and nothing like the charmer he's seen in pieces of Steve's memories. If he was, they wouldn't be having this conversation.
The helplessness, though, he can understand, to feel like everyone around him is moving so fast when he's standing still. Combined with keeping a death pact secret would frustrate anyone, including Steve.
Instead of saying anything, he flits through his memories for the argument the day after, when Sam was pissed and Bucky was a coward.]
The helplessness, though, he can understand, to feel like everyone around him is moving so fast when he's standing still. Combined with keeping a death pact secret would frustrate anyone, including Steve.
Instead of saying anything, he flits through his memories for the argument the day after, when Sam was pissed and Bucky was a coward.]
( You're not a coward. ) [ Conviction tinged with frustration hums across the line again, and he lifts his eyes to watch Bucky. Another pause. ]
( If you need space, that's one thing. You leaving to protect us - or asking Sam to make you that promise - ) [ He shakes his head, shutting his eyes for a second. ] ( - you aren't sparing us from anything. )
[ He meets Bucky's memories with his own, the three men at the Bearings on Concordia from Steve's perspective, the comfort and ease he felt from their presence, the irreplaceable sense of belonging in that moment on another planet that has little to do with a past Bucky doesn't fully remember or a future Steve never lived. ]
( If you need space, that's one thing. You leaving to protect us - or asking Sam to make you that promise - ) [ He shakes his head, shutting his eyes for a second. ] ( - you aren't sparing us from anything. )
[ He meets Bucky's memories with his own, the three men at the Bearings on Concordia from Steve's perspective, the comfort and ease he felt from their presence, the irreplaceable sense of belonging in that moment on another planet that has little to do with a past Bucky doesn't fully remember or a future Steve never lived. ]
[When Steve looks up at him, Bucky doesn't return the favor. Instead, he keeps his gaze down, but he doesn't need to see Steve's face to feel the thrum of his conviction. It reverberates over the link, echoing around in the empty space in Bucky's head rather than sinking in. Like rainwater on asphalt, the sentiment splashes everywhere but doesn't soak in.
Memories bubble over the link, full of warmth and contentment, and Bucky bites his lip. He doesn't want to take that away from Steve.
So he doesn't say anything at all, though he can't exactly hide the fact that he doesn't believe Steve.]
Memories bubble over the link, full of warmth and contentment, and Bucky bites his lip. He doesn't want to take that away from Steve.
So he doesn't say anything at all, though he can't exactly hide the fact that he doesn't believe Steve.]
[ ? - not a fully formed question, and an answer isn't needed - after a few minutes of finishing up the page he'd been reading she might feel him heading toward her direction, his mind a forced, neutral grey. ]
[ She is not in her usual white dress. 'Usual', although since Concordia she has worn a variety of white dresses, some cinched at the waist, others laced at the back, little expressions that she has no forgotten all she learned while there. Today, however, she is in the grey jumpsuit that they all know. Her hair is tied into a knot at the back of her head, and in that moment she barely looks like herself, more like any other host--
That has become appealing to her, to settle in to what she is, rather than continuing on as someone new. ]
I hoped you might be free to work with me.
That has become appealing to her, to settle in to what she is, rather than continuing on as someone new. ]
I hoped you might be free to work with me.
[ He goes quiet again for a few minutes, biting his tongue and continuing to let the memory of those feelings echo across the link mingling with rough threads of frustration and stubborn metal links. ]
You don't have to believe me. It's the truth. [ He wouldn't let it stand if it were anyone else calling Bucky Barnes a coward. ]
You don't have to believe me. It's the truth. [ He wouldn't let it stand if it were anyone else calling Bucky Barnes a coward. ]
[Truth is a strange thing, in Bucky's mind. What's true for one person is false for another; what someone believes to be absolute, is subjective to his fellow. The fact is that he ran from the pet store, to protect Sam and the rest of the Nest and to protect himself from the guilt of the death he caused. No amount of stewing can replace the lives he took and no amount of believing in truth will absolve him.
Yet, he tries to shutter himself in--- to keep Steve out--- and pushes up mental walls he should have built before looking for Steve, before spilling everything onto his friend without warning.
This isn't Concordia. Things have happened here that shouldn't.]
Yet, he tries to shutter himself in--- to keep Steve out--- and pushes up mental walls he should have built before looking for Steve, before spilling everything onto his friend without warning.
This isn't Concordia. Things have happened here that shouldn't.]
[ He frowns at her, stopping some meters away as he takes in the changes in her appearance. At Camp Lehigh he'd felt a kind of pride in his uniform. On the Station, the sameness tends to make him uncomfortable, this isn't an exception. ]
What were you thinking? [ He won't refuse her. There's only so much training he can do on his own here. ]
What were you thinking? [ He won't refuse her. There's only so much training he can do on his own here. ]
I had hoped--
[ Hm. The quirk of a smile as what she had hoped returns to her. She shakes it off with a soft laugh. ]
I had hoped it would be all of us, but you will have to do.
[ She doesn't actually mean that to be as cruel as it sounds, it's more thoughtless than anything else. She had determined this path a long time ago, and has decided that losing most of the participants isn't going to stop her. ]
Come spar with me. I'd like to see your way of it.
[ Hm. The quirk of a smile as what she had hoped returns to her. She shakes it off with a soft laugh. ]
I had hoped it would be all of us, but you will have to do.
[ She doesn't actually mean that to be as cruel as it sounds, it's more thoughtless than anything else. She had determined this path a long time ago, and has decided that losing most of the participants isn't going to stop her. ]
Come spar with me. I'd like to see your way of it.
[ Her words sting, and he stares at her warily for a moment as he shakes them off before they can take root, become something more sinister.
A nod, his hands smoothing down the front of his uniform. ] If that's what you want. [ Not a challenge - there's no overconfidence to his demeanor. Only one of them has killed a man before. ] Who've you been working with?
A nod, his hands smoothing down the front of his uniform. ] If that's what you want. [ Not a challenge - there's no overconfidence to his demeanor. Only one of them has killed a man before. ] Who've you been working with?
Prince, Mara, Bruce, Misato. A few others while we were in Concordia.
[ She already knew how to kill and to survive, she's since been learning how to fight. There's something a little empowering to her, to learn how to broke bones, and bruise bodies; not just spill blood. ]
The things Ren left behind, the lessons the Nest has to share.
[ She tilts her head at him, raising an eyebrow. Was that a thorough enough answer for him? ]
[ She already knew how to kill and to survive, she's since been learning how to fight. There's something a little empowering to her, to learn how to broke bones, and bruise bodies; not just spill blood. ]
The things Ren left behind, the lessons the Nest has to share.
[ She tilts her head at him, raising an eyebrow. Was that a thorough enough answer for him? ]
Edited (flippin' whitespace) 2017-05-25 23:58 (UTC)
[ He tilts his head, an affirmative gesture. ]
Hand to hand for me. [ He's been learning how to use his lighter weight to its best advantage, his quickness and reflexes. There's deception to use too, with his smaller frame. Not a tactic he particularly cares for, but he figures it's more the opponent's mistake.
There's also the shield. ]
Ready when you are.
Hand to hand for me. [ He's been learning how to use his lighter weight to its best advantage, his quickness and reflexes. There's deception to use too, with his smaller frame. Not a tactic he particularly cares for, but he figures it's more the opponent's mistake.
There's also the shield. ]
Ready when you are.
[ She doubts that, and so rather than begin immediately she leads him through the little ceremony of each taking their place on the mats, facing each other.
Her approach to hand to hand can only be similar to his, being quick, planning ahead, feinting well. There is a precision to the things Ilde does, a calculated assertion. This kind of fighting is almost more sport to her, if she were serious about survival... well. They know her, he knows her. Perhaps at last? She thinks of speaking to him red-faced on the wastes of Avera after the Prince had evicted her from the port. What a different girl.
Her mind is elsewhere, even as her elbow collides solidly into the meaty hollow between breastbone and shoulder. ]
Faster.
[ An idle critique bearing no mockery, statement of fact: block faster or it will happen again. ]
Her approach to hand to hand can only be similar to his, being quick, planning ahead, feinting well. There is a precision to the things Ilde does, a calculated assertion. This kind of fighting is almost more sport to her, if she were serious about survival... well. They know her, he knows her. Perhaps at last? She thinks of speaking to him red-faced on the wastes of Avera after the Prince had evicted her from the port. What a different girl.
Her mind is elsewhere, even as her elbow collides solidly into the meaty hollow between breastbone and shoulder. ]
Faster.
[ An idle critique bearing no mockery, statement of fact: block faster or it will happen again. ]
[ Blow to blow - this is the first time he's moved like this with a broodmate (the only chance he'll get now). This should be like a dance, minds aligned to a beat that only the pair of them can hear, muscle memory that shouldn't otherwise exist.
She gets a grunt in response, the place of the blow throbbing from her strike. He keeps up, but only just. Not for lack of technique - he's been practicing. His striking blows are slower than they ought to be. Holding back is an insult to them both, but the further along the dance goes, the more apparent it becomes that his heart's not in it.
Blocking another blow has his footing misaligned, her next might knock him to the ground - ]
She gets a grunt in response, the place of the blow throbbing from her strike. He keeps up, but only just. Not for lack of technique - he's been practicing. His striking blows are slower than they ought to be. Holding back is an insult to them both, but the further along the dance goes, the more apparent it becomes that his heart's not in it.
Blocking another blow has his footing misaligned, her next might knock him to the ground - ]
[ She jams her heel into his thigh without thinking much about it. He is nothing to her in that moment. Just a training doll, and quite honestly one that does not quite measure up--
She pauses with her leg extended, looking at where he's dropped. She lowers her foot slowly, tilting her head at him. ]
I had wanted us to fight against him [ Ren ] together. Is this all it would have been?
[ Her eyes dilate, and what had been a moment's dismissive calm turns angry, she's on him as he tries to rise, her sitting on his chest the front of his shirt in her hand, the other fist raised like it's going to come down onto his nose, but she holds it there. Staring in to him. ]
( I had wanted for you to be worthy. )
[ A dark echo, her disappointment: in all of them. ]
She pauses with her leg extended, looking at where he's dropped. She lowers her foot slowly, tilting her head at him. ]
I had wanted us to fight against him [ Ren ] together. Is this all it would have been?
[ Her eyes dilate, and what had been a moment's dismissive calm turns angry, she's on him as he tries to rise, her sitting on his chest the front of his shirt in her hand, the other fist raised like it's going to come down onto his nose, but she holds it there. Staring in to him. ]
( I had wanted for you to be worthy. )
[ A dark echo, her disappointment: in all of them. ]
[ Surprise flickers across his expression as he hits the ground, landing hard. Both arms raise to block the next strike, eyes narrowing at the accusation that comes instead. Something churns with a furnace heat, demands he lash back at her.
He tastes blood, biting the inside of his cheek so hard to silence that unwanted voice. It's wrong, demanding that his anger raise in response to her disappointment, her rejection. He doesn't respond immediately, but his gaze doesn't leave her face, the raised fist in his peripheral vision.
He feels very much like himself.
His voice is flat, his words slow and direct, and a little bit tired. ]
I don't need to be worthy. [ Whatever that means to this version of her. Whatever it is she's becoming, this strangeness to her ever since he woke up again (maybe before even that). The distance between them, forced space that will end in collision, because so long as they're both awake they can't be separated. ] And they didn't leave because they weren't.
He tastes blood, biting the inside of his cheek so hard to silence that unwanted voice. It's wrong, demanding that his anger raise in response to her disappointment, her rejection. He doesn't respond immediately, but his gaze doesn't leave her face, the raised fist in his peripheral vision.
He feels very much like himself.
His voice is flat, his words slow and direct, and a little bit tired. ]
I don't need to be worthy. [ Whatever that means to this version of her. Whatever it is she's becoming, this strangeness to her ever since he woke up again (maybe before even that). The distance between them, forced space that will end in collision, because so long as they're both awake they can't be separated. ] And they didn't leave because they weren't.
[ There's nothing there.
Nothing to take from that response, and nothing to give to him either. Her anger compresses in on itself, cold down to the pit of her, until she's simply sighing.
Sighing at him, at his defenses, still inadequate. She rearranges her strike, taking her elbow down into his crossed arms, letting gravity do all the work through the weight of her. His face is protected, but she bounces his head and shoulders off the mats all the same. She slips off to the slide of his body and onto her feet without pursuing it further, walking away with her back to him. Her mind drifts elsewhere.
She's thinking about weeping for Sam in to his shoulder, and for Ren by herself. What a different girl, the same girl, but-- She's thinking of how little she feels like weeping now. For one moment she thought perhaps she could ignite... anything in Steve, but no. There's nothing there, and has there ever been? She's never wept over Jessica either, how did one grieve for someone they did not even know. ]
Of course not.
[ The dismissive answer a mother gives to a child. She's halfway across the room before seeming to realize she should say something further, glancing over her shoulder, ]
I think I've seen enough.
Nothing to take from that response, and nothing to give to him either. Her anger compresses in on itself, cold down to the pit of her, until she's simply sighing.
Sighing at him, at his defenses, still inadequate. She rearranges her strike, taking her elbow down into his crossed arms, letting gravity do all the work through the weight of her. His face is protected, but she bounces his head and shoulders off the mats all the same. She slips off to the slide of his body and onto her feet without pursuing it further, walking away with her back to him. Her mind drifts elsewhere.
She's thinking about weeping for Sam in to his shoulder, and for Ren by herself. What a different girl, the same girl, but-- She's thinking of how little she feels like weeping now. For one moment she thought perhaps she could ignite... anything in Steve, but no. There's nothing there, and has there ever been? She's never wept over Jessica either, how did one grieve for someone they did not even know. ]
Of course not.
[ The dismissive answer a mother gives to a child. She's halfway across the room before seeming to realize she should say something further, glancing over her shoulder, ]
I think I've seen enough.
[ He almost calls her back - not to fight or to demand acceptance in place of dismissal - and it's because he doesn't know what it is that he wants to say that he lets his jaw snap shut, the sudden presence of empty space in his heart and mind adding pressure to his chest.
Walls raise back into place and he gets to his feet again. ]
Walls raise back into place and he gets to his feet again. ]
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