thecapitol | tried counting sheep

Entry tags:

tried counting sheep

Who| Sam Wilson and YOU! All of you!
What| Sleep issues and trying to settle post-arena
Where| Various spots in the Tribute Tower/over the Capitol
When| After the end of the arena and through the first week after, mostly before Panem Nightly
Warnings/Notes| Prompts for specific locations under the cut! Nightmare and PTSD-talk likely, probably mentions of violence and death

Late Nights in District 5
It’s probably not a secret that Sam hasn’t slept much since getting back from the arena, the same way that he can pick up the signs that he’s not the only one with sleeping problems in District Five. Some nights, he doesn’t even try - he either doesn’t return back to the floor at all, or when he does, he heads straight for the couch or the kitchen.

The nights he is there, he can be found in the common areas at all hours of the night, watching bad Capitol TV with the volume on low, in the kitchen making snacks, or even occasionally catching a few minutes of sleep on the couch before he jerks awake again.

In the Training Center
He’d been in the training room a lot before the arena, sure, but it’s even worse now. Whenever he has downtime that he can’t fill up by something else, Sam ends up here, going through a workout, practicing with whatever weapons are available, or just attacking the punching bags.

When he’s alone, he goes all out, sets up a playlist full of fast-paced, heavy workout songs and just loses himself in them.

When there’s other people there, though, he goes slower, reduces the pace so he can maintain a conversation, if they’re the type that will put up with him when he attempts to strike up one.

Out and About in the Capitol
Now that the curfew’s gone, most mornings he goes outside for his run. He hasn’t found a path he likes enough yet to make it a regular one, so he alternates routes through the parks and on the sidewalks.

When he’s done, sometimes he lingers in the Capitol, going shopping or just wandering around to get a better feel for the city, keeping an eye out for anyone he knows. Or anyone who looks like they might be a Tribute, instead of another… interestingly dressed Capitol citizen.

For Close CR
Some nights, he just can’t stand the thought of being alone. All right, a lot of nights, and he’s not too proud to seek out company when he needs someone else’s presence to pull him out of the thoughts that get stuck in his head.

Even if he does feel a little guilty at the late hour, but he figures they could tell him to get lost if they actually are sleeping, and don’t want to be disturbed.

So he when he can’t sleep, he makes his way to rooms that aren’t his, knocks quiet but firm on the doors of the people he considers himself lucky to call his friends.

(Starter prompts for specific threads in the comments!)

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He grins a little at that. "What do you think I do half the time, man?" He makes it up as he goes.

Sam sinks back into the couch when Jet starts asking questions, leaning more into his shoulder and letting out a slow exhale. Normally he can't handle small talk when he's like this, but it's different with someone he trusts, with someone he actually wants to get to know. Like this, it's a relief.

"New York," he says. "Harlem, if you want to be more specific, but after I left the military, I ended up in Washington D.C. And yeah, I got two. My brother Gideon and my sister Sarah - both older, and they're both married with kids now. What about you?"

Hearing where Sam was from put some affection into Jet's expression and he looked away. He hadn't seen his hometown in years and yet it still put a sense of pride in him. But with that pride and that fond feeling came the reminder that, where he'd been before, it had been destroyed. The epicenter of the somnua epidemic. It was nice to know someone who knew the New York he knew.

"I'm from the Bronx, although I was staying in Maryland those last few years back home, also thanks to the job. As for siblings...never had any related by blood, but I had a whole group I'd classify as close enough. One sister and six brothers, which of 'em are older than me depends on how you look at it."

Did he count forty years of not being awake or not? There were certainly plenty of years when it hadn't felt like they counted. In fact, he was pretty sure the entire team saw him and Joe as the youngest, no matter their actual chronological age.

He can guess where that affection's coming from, but when Jet confirms it, he lights up a little. "I used to volunteer helping rehabilitate birds for an offshoot of the Wildlife Conservation Society, the one based at the Bronx Zoo." That was before the Hulk had cut a swath through Harlem, and Loki and his alien army had done a number on the rest of New York, but his mom still lives there, and he still has a similar affection for it. "And I ran a route around the National Mall just about every morning, back in D.C."

Which was before the helicarriers crashed into the Potomac, there's... kind of a pattern about the places Sam'd lived, apparently.

"Yeah? Albert mentioned there were some others in your group, that them?

"Yeah, that's them. All of us were different ages and nationalities, but it ended up not mattering, sometimes you get a family when you least expect it." That was pretty much what he'd told Venus only a little while ago. Even in this place, they'd found a family, a family Sam was quickly finding his own place in.

That seemed to be how it worked: everyone who made up Jet's family -the ones he cared to call his family, who were better than the one he'd been born to- fell into place when he hadn't been noticing.

He gave Sam a playful smile and let those thoughts fade before they became too overwhelming or he let his mind wonder too far into the subject of the other cyborgs. "So, you've always been a bird-guy, huh? Did you choose the name 'Falcon' or was that just a happy accident?"

There's just as much affection in Sam's smile when he nods in agreement with that sentiment as there'd been when he was talking about New York, though this time it's for the people who Sam'd somehow ended up with in his own family. Including Riley, of course, but this is one of the good moments where thinking of him doesn't hurt. "Yeah, man, I know how it is."

How it's still happening, seeing as some of the people here are getting like that, complicated as that is.

Then he laughs, a low, amused huff. "Little of both? Bird themes made sense, with the wings. Better than angels, that would have been a mess."

"Yeah, I can see why. Plus, 'Gabriel' or whatever doesn't quite have as nice a ring to it as 'Falcon.' Superhero names are supposed to stand out."

Jet's smile faded a bit as he considered what other mindless thing he could offer. Well, mindless enough, something that wasn't death and watching your friends die and whatever else might be plaguing Sam after his first arena; Jet's guess at the problem causing his friend's restlessness.

"Other than the obvious, what do you miss most from home? Like...the most stupid thing you can think of that you miss."

"Samael," Sam says with another laugh. "One of the first rescue ops we went on, after we got the wings, the soldier was delirious and thought I was the angel of death. He kept calling me that no matter how many times I introduced myself, Riley laughed at me for weeks."

The fact that he can say Riley's name, share a story about him without thinking about how he lost him, even when he'd been having a rough night, makes Sam real damn glad he'd come up here to talk to Jet. It's always better, when he doesn't get caught up in his own head, and he can work through it like this.

"The music," he replies, without really thinking about it much. "I mean, you can find good stuff here, if you look, but you never know what kind of way they're going to have made it all Capitol."

Jet didn't think he'd heard that name mentioned, but he assumed it was a friend of Sam's, someone from home and he didn't press it. Sometimes it was hard enough for Jet to talk about the people from his own home, plus if this was the person Sam had referenced losing, Jet didn't want to poke that wound when he was intentionally trying to take Sam's mind away from that sort of thing.

The story and the mention of music made him laugh, though. "Yeah, definitely can't blame you for that one. I miss movies, ones in the theater and ones just on late night t.v. for the same reason." He smiled affectionately as a happier memory flitted through his mind. "Al and I would sometimes sit around on the couch and watch some of those late night movies back home. Some of them were good and some of them were bad, but it didn't really matter cause that wasn't the point...but the Capitol's got none of that." He shrugged.

"You know, about the music, you should find someone here who can play you some music, there's so many of us, surely someone can play something you'd like to hear. Albert's pretty good with the piano."

Sam appreciates Jet not calling attention to it. It’s a great thing, when he can tell a story like that without even thinking about it.

“Yeah, V and I tried to do it the other night, she put on something about a unicorn tamer, but it’s just not the same.” He’d ended up talking to her more than watching anything that’d been on the tv, which definitely wasn’t a bad thing, it was just… harder to zone out, anything made by the Capitol.

“That’s a good idea, man, I hadn’t thought of that. I can sing it myself-” and he does, a lot- “-but that’s a little different, you know?” Sam considers for a moment. “What d’you think the chances of anyone knowing Marvin Gaye are?”

"Marvin Gaye? Like 'Pride and Joy' and 'Can I get a witness?' Marvin Gaye?" Jet hadn't thought of him in ages. He'd been big when Jet had been a teenager in the early sixties and those songs had been huge, he'd heard them a lot during those years. He hadn't really gone looking for Marvin Gaye when he'd been 'defrosted' but he could still remember a snippet or two.

"And I'm tellin' the world
You're my pride and joy
I believe I'm no baby boy
But I know you're mine
My pride and joy"

His rendition isn't the greatest without music to back him up and only half a memory to work on, but his good singing voice carries it well enough. "Aren't you a little young to know Marvin Gaye?" He was mostly teasing, for all he knew, Marvin Gaye went on to be popular for decades.

Sam's smile widens when Jet recognizes who he's talking about, and it's entirely possible that he lights up a little when Jet actually starts singing it. And then it's pretty much impossible for him to resist joining in, singing along like he has all the times he's played that album back home. Sam's own singing voice is pretty damn good, and they're no Marvin Gaye, but they sure as hell aren't bad.

"You're never too young to know Marvin Gaye," he replies, smiling more genuinely than he probably has since coming back from the arena. "Everyone should know Marvin Gaye, man. The Trouble Man soundtrack was the first thing I made Steve catch up on, back home."

Sam joining in with Jet's singing makes him grin wide. He hadn't sung with someone in a long time and it was actually a lot of fun. It didn't hurt that they actually sounded pretty good.

"Sure, alright, whippersnapper." He smirked, but it turned into a small look of confusion as he thought about that last part. "What's 'The Trouble Man' soundtrack?" And what did it have to do with 'catching Steve up.' Supposedly, something about what happened between the 40s and the modern day. Maybe that wouldn't be too bad to listen to, if he ever got the chance anyway.

Really, it’s better than Sam could’ve hoped for. He’d put on the radio or set up his iTunes a lot back when he was having rough nights just about all the time, to give himself something else to focus on. He’d sung along with them sometimes, too, but turns out doing it with a friend works even better.

That doesn’t stop him from giving a mostly playful groan at that question, though. “Oh man, you too? It’s a soundtrack he did in the seventies, it’s pretty much required listening for everyone. I’m really going to have to try to find it.”

"Yeah, find it or you could always perform it for me." The way he said it was meant to be a joke, but if Sam wanted to sing it for him sometime, Jet wasn't going to turn it down.

"Until then, maybe we should do shows together, sing random oldies no one's ever heard here before, we'd be a hit. After we publish our comic books, of course."

Sam grins wide, because he’s pretty sure it’s a joke, but he also tilts his head a little, considering. “If I can’t find it, I’ll practice my shower singing until it’s decent enough to pass for someone’s first hearing. I promised Bucky I’d show it to him, too.”

Sorry, District 5, but it looks like Trouble Man’s going to be on repeat for a while.

“Oh, of course. Maybe we should reverse the order, though, I got a feeling I’ll be a lot better at singing oldies with you than making a comic book. I think you and me’ve got a date with a karaoke machine.”

"Reversing the order's good with me, we'll put the comic on hold until our tour's done. We should make a line-up of songs and start practicing. Maybe a little Marvin Gaye, a bit of Dion and some Beatles -I hear they got popular after my time."

Jet nudged Sam to let him know he was about to move and stood so he could head into the kitchen. "But first: it feels like we're hitting something around two or three a.m. so it's time for some ice cream, personally. You game?"

“Popular’s an understatement,” Sam teases, but he’s nodding along with that. “You come up with a list and I’ll write up mine, we’ll see which ones end up on both and which songs I gotta introduce to you, too.”

He can’t resist nudging Jet back a little, even though he gets the intention behind it. Sam pulls himself to his feet as well, following Jet into the kitchen. “Two a.m. is always the perfect time for ice cream, so hell yeah I’m in.”

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tried counting sheep

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i'm so sorry about the late, apparently i lost the notif for this

it's okay, you've got a lot of notifs, bb <3

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