Bucky Barnes ☆ 32557038 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tookthewheel) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2014-09-30 06:26 pm
tookthewheel) wrote in thecapitol2014-09-30 06:26 pm
Entry tags:
It's a whiteout of emotion [Closed]
Who| Steve Rogers and MCU!Bucky Barnes
What| Steve checking on Bucky after the latter comes back from the arena
Where| District 1
When| End of week 6
Warnings/Notes| Unhappy subject matter
He comes awake with a thud, the sound of him falling off the edge of his bed and hitting the floor.
Bucky gasps and retches, coming up with nothing for it on account of his empty stomach. He manages to push himself up onto his hands, trying to get his body under control and shake off the echoes of wind whistling in his ears and a voice calling his name, the sharp bite of ice against his skin.
Christ. he thinks in an unfamiliar tone.
He feels shaken and disorientated, blinking slowly at his surroundings until he slowly manages to piece it back together. Panem. The Hunger Games. He'd died, again. Bucky fumbles his hand across his stomach, pulls his shirt up and stares down at smooth unbroken skin. Good as new, of course. It's hard to recall entirely what happened, he remembers being stabbed and the first hours after but then it's a confusing blur of sound and colour he reels back from trying to intepret more deeply.
Sitting back against the side of the bed Bucky tries to regain his self-control further, brushing his hair back out of his face and -- and his hair, it's long again. He grabs a hank of it in hand and stares in shock, then feels the growth of beard on his jaw. They reset him.
What| Steve checking on Bucky after the latter comes back from the arena
Where| District 1
When| End of week 6
Warnings/Notes| Unhappy subject matter
He comes awake with a thud, the sound of him falling off the edge of his bed and hitting the floor.
Bucky gasps and retches, coming up with nothing for it on account of his empty stomach. He manages to push himself up onto his hands, trying to get his body under control and shake off the echoes of wind whistling in his ears and a voice calling his name, the sharp bite of ice against his skin.
Christ. he thinks in an unfamiliar tone.
He feels shaken and disorientated, blinking slowly at his surroundings until he slowly manages to piece it back together. Panem. The Hunger Games. He'd died, again. Bucky fumbles his hand across his stomach, pulls his shirt up and stares down at smooth unbroken skin. Good as new, of course. It's hard to recall entirely what happened, he remembers being stabbed and the first hours after but then it's a confusing blur of sound and colour he reels back from trying to intepret more deeply.
Sitting back against the side of the bed Bucky tries to regain his self-control further, brushing his hair back out of his face and -- and his hair, it's long again. He grabs a hank of it in hand and stares in shock, then feels the growth of beard on his jaw. They reset him.
no subject
Sure, he was being overprotective, worrying and hovering like this, but, he's seen enough of Bucky's nightmares and it feels right to be close for when the man revives, to return the favor. The arena is always a nightmare. Especially, with the way Bucky died.
"Bucky-" what does he say, but he sees how the man is sitting, how he's staring at his hair, and Steve is in the room now, door shut behind him as he kneels in front of his friend. "Hey, quick cut and a shave and you'll be as good as new."
no subject
"Steve." he says, his tone is almost exactly like that first time, when Bucky tried to bolt out of the tribute center and vanish into the Capitol, only to be stopped by the sight of a man he never expected to see again. This time however the shock is replaced by the tinge of relief.
Bucky lets go of his hair, shaking his head -- though a shave sounds surprisingly tempting, he's discovered he doesn't like having a beard -- and reaching out, the fingers of his right hand hover and then grab Steve's shoulder like he's checking that he is real and solid, not some hallucination cooked up by his own scrambled mind. He needs to answer him, say something because there's a lot of emotion boiling away inside his chest right now, he tries to think about the words but in the end doesn't need to, they just spring out of their own accord like they've been said a couple thousand times before, "You're an idiot."
He doesn't expect how hoarse his voice would sound, not helped by the fact he just tried to throw up with nothing but bile in his stomach.
no subject
He places a hand on the one Bucky has on his shoulder, the other reaching out to lay on the man's own shoulder. There's a familiarity to the words and actions that is becoming more common with Bucky as he remembers and adjusts, it's less surprising than it used to be, but that doesn't make it any less impactful or meaningful to Steve.
"You're no genius yourself," he moves his hand from Bucky's shoulder to the side of his neck in a friendly but grounding gesture. "Glad to have you back." More glad than Bucky'll know.
no subject
Bucky's trying to focus but there's too many things happening at once, too many sensations that make no sense with broken visions and the only thing that is solid is the man before him. He feels the hand on his shoulder and then his neck, Steve's warm fingers and palm, grounding him down from all the horrible places his mind could take him in this moment. That's good, that's fine, he concentrates on that touch.
He thinks that the old Bucky Barnes would've fired a quip back here, that he would've done something to get that strain out of Steve Rogers smile but he's not that man, he doesn't have anything to make this better for either of them. If he was that man they wouldn't be here like this in the first place.
"I..." Bucky's grateful he says it, nods and is glad he is back as well, for himself and so he can continue to be where he needs to be for Steve. Mission incomplete but no, he shouldn't think like that anymore, he shouldn't-- "You're alright?"
no subject
Steve gives a gentle, reassuring squeeze, keeping his hand where it's at, letting it be a weight as the man catches his bearings.
"I'm alright," he's not sure if the question is in regards to the fact his brand is still there or if it's just general concern, but he decides not to mention specifics. He reaches to brush more of Bucky's hair from his face, combing it back with his fingers, in a gesture his ma would do when he was sick. "More worried about you, pal. Talk to me, what's going through that head of yours?"
no subject
Is it that they're fated to always die apart? In pain, in ice, the end of the line never converging.
The thought hits him like a ton of bricks, cranks his anxiety back upwards until Steve's hand brushes his hair backwards. The touch shakes him loose from that train and he stares forwards. He can't help it, he told himself he shouldn't think this way anymore and it still comes out, "Mission failure. I can't remember."
no subject
The mention of mission failure makes Steve frown slightly. Even if it's less and less frequent, he doesn't like that Bucky thinks how Hydra conditioned him to anymore, but he gets it. As much as he wishes it would go away, he understands. And it's not like he can tell Bucky he didn't fail his mission, being that mission seems to be keeping Steve alive and he died.
So, instead he poses the question he can't ignore: "What can't you remember?"
no subject
He looks up again, unsure that he actually wants to. It was a haze as the wound in his belly and the poison in his body worked together to pull him apart, sending him spiralling into weak delirium. Bucky thinks he remembers Tony and Thor. He knows Aang was there at a point but then gone again.
He remembers saying words that he can't recall. Given Bucky's relationship with memory it's no surprise that not being able to remember something is freaking him out.