AND HONESTLY IM DOWN FOR ANYTHING. i like action brackets but can also do prose too! i ship them really hard but can also do bromance/tension! happy or sad or intense or WHATEVER. i have tfatws brainrot right now so i could be up for literally anything. c:
do you have any preferences, though??? c:
Edited (I FORGOT TO ADD THE QUESTION LOL) 2021-04-20 19:30 (UTC)
I'm very happy with action brackets, every time I try to prose, I forget that's what I'm doing halfway through the thread and revert back to brackets because I'm so used to them...>.>
I'll go with bromance to start with, if it's all the same to you o/ I'm about as rusty at rping as bucky is at socializing, so if anything doesn't work feel free to kick me onto the right path/ignore my starter and write your own
~*~
[ nightmares are a fact of life for bucky, have been for a long time. really, the only time they stopped was when the part of him that identifies itself as "bucky" was pushed way down deep into his subconscious, battered to all hell, broken, and buried under mountains of programming, and the occasional hydra propaganda, depending on how what level of humanity any given handler decided to assign to him. in a way, it's almost comforting, to have them, they let him know he's still mostly himself, mostly in control.
but this one? this one's definitely a new one. it's not exactly worse than the others - he's not killing an innocent person in it, not ruining an economy, a country, a family, not remembering a true event - but it's not better, either.
in his dream, he stands before an eleven year old steve rogers; scrawny as he was, he could easily pass for eight. but true to form, the kid doesn't let their size difference hold him back one little bit - he glares at bucky like he's the scum of the earth, like nothing will save him from the well deserved dose of justice that's about to rain down on his head.
it's one of the shortest nightmares he has, because that look alone - the disappointment, the loathing, the disgust on his best friend's face - it's enough to have his heart racing, his adrenaline pumping, and his body waking up ready to defend himself from a lethal blow. but how do you defend against your own head? it's not a question he's ever managed to answer.
bucky pulls himself up to his feet, quiet as, well, an assassin, and walks out to the porch. it's probably not the smartest move, considering people are trying to kill them, and he knows better than anyone just how patient a sniper can be, but maybe a part of him just doesn't care. ]
THANK GOODNESS BECAUSE ME TOO. it's just a habit i can't break anymore.
AND THAT IS TOTALLY FINE WITH ME. i love every interaction between these two. also!!! how are you on spoilers? c: i can adjust any of the below if need be.
-------
[ sam wilson should, for all intents and purposes, be used to this kind of thing by now. the last few years of his life has built him up to a place where this - any of this - shouldn't be surprising. not alien attacks, not intergalactic wars, not time travel, and certainly not bounties on their heads. people being out to kill them is normal, people being out to kill him is normal. this - all of this - should be something he can take with stride.
but there's also a bigger part of him that never wants to be that person. that never wants any of this to feel normal. going home, being with his family - that is the kind of person he wants to think of when he thinks of his life. bounties and assassins and taking classified trips across the globe to places the government doesn't need to know he's in? he can manage. he can survive. he can get through those missions and make it back home and then things can be normal.
all that's to say is that sam hasn't been sleeping well. and whether bucky makes just enough noise to rouse him from whatever not sleep sam had been doing, or it's just the luck of the draw that he happens to be getting a glass of water right when he sees the other get up, it doesn't really matter. what does matter is that sam sees bucky get up, a kind of tension and heaviness to his shoulders, and he can tell it was a nightmare. can tell that it has been a bad night.
sam stands in the hallway for one moment, and then a moment longer, deciding if this is something he plans on doing. if this is a conversation he, or bucky, wants to have. and then, once those moments are over, sam heaves a sigh and follows, moving through the space and stopping just inside the door to the porch. because while bucky may be okay with challenging killers from all angles, but sam is not. so instead he remains just inside, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the door. ]
Hey. [ quiet, though he's sure bucky heard him coming. knows that he's probably not startling him. ] You good?
HIGH FIVE I get so stressed when I have to prose cuz I always screw it up sooner or later.
ME TOO I'm excited for this :D and I'm all caught up, you're good o7
~*~
[ people trying to kill him? absolutely feels normal to bucky. it's everything else that's a struggle. every time he opens his eyes he sees something that reminds him - not that he was ever in any danger of forgetting - that life's gone very wrong, that he's not where he belongs, that he's not who he was supposed to be.
he was supposed to come home, he had a family waiting. twice they were sent letters of condolences. twice, they were lies. and as if it wasn't bad enough, they'd lost steve, too. did anyone bother visiting them? there's no one left to ask. it was his job to take care of them, and he didn't. it was his job to lay down his life for his country - he didn't do that, either.
so what's his job now, and should he even look for one, with his track record?
he can hear sam's approach, and sighs inwardly. like sam, he's not quite sure whether he really wants to have this conversation - or it's the last thing he wants to do. it's one or the other, he can tell that much, but which? well, it's probably not a question he'll have an answer for until he does it, and he's damn good at putting off this conversation. it's real easy, when everyone who's ever really known him is gone. ]
Peachy. [ it would probably be easier if he'd have been a better liar, but the winter soldier was an assassin, not a spy. he didn't really do too much talking. ]
{ but that's the issue, isn't it? bucky's so used to there being people out to kill him. so used to playing the target, and the assassin. being on the run and watching your back when you've spent decades trying to not exist is easy. what isn't, is coming back to it all in the end, and that's what sam gets. that's what sam understands.
granted - being in madripoor and having a multi-million dollar bounty on their heads doesn't really make any of this feel normal, but sam is rolling with the punches here. he's good at that. ]
Sarcasm. Cute. [ he shifts a bit where he's leaning in the doorframe, trying to gauge from bucky's shoulders, from the tension in his back, if this is a real danger that sam should walk away from, or something he can push. it's another second before he exhales, shaking his head a bit.
apparently, he's doing this, so bucky will have to accept that. ]
Do you want to talk about it? [ a beat of silence follows, where sam gives bucky enough time to really think about it before he continues. ] I can hear those cyborg gears turning from here. I know something is going on up there.
[ going back, that really is the struggle. where do you go back, when everyone you love is gone? he's not steve, he hasn't spent years out of the ice cultivating relationships, making friends - and even steve, who had all that, he went back in a heartbeat, first chance he got. so what's he supposed to do, then? who does he go back to? he's pretty sure he's burned the bridge to wakanda, and even if he didn't by some miracle - well, there's a reason he didn't stay there, though it can be hard to remember some days.
most days. ]
You need some new material.
[ if his tone of voice is anything to go by the danger is, for the moment, at least, fairly low. his voice is mostly tired. he's said his piece at their ridiculous counselling meeting, that didn't really get them anywhere, did it? he's starting to feel that maybe nothing ever will - because why should it?
the winter soldier cannot be redeemed, and try as he might to alienate himself from the machine, he was still the man under the mask. nothing is ever going to change that. having to pretend to be that again heartless machine again, it only proved that. zemo's point, he suspects. that's one point to him. ]
[ no he's not steve, and he's not like any other soldier that sam has worked with, but the situation isn't all that different. not far from where sam was, when he came back after riley. not far from many others. he's a soldier without a fight and a warrior without a war. sam doesn't blame bucky for how he acts or how standoffish he seems. it makes sense. he gets it.
and he'll be here when he's in a space to reach out. ]
And that wasn't an answer.
[ sam likes to think that he can tell when bucky's tone is actually dangerous, versus when it's just bucky being. well. bucky. there is a lot going on there, and also a lot happening in bucky's life with his therapist, so sam doesn't. pressure it. or push. winter soldier or not, bucky isn't giving off the vibe that sam needs to worry about this, so sam just settles himself where he is leaning and waits. ]
[ there are a lot of things that sam does that drive bucky absolutely crazy, and he can make entire lists of those things - both in anger, and in humor. but the thing he doesn't say, is there's an equally long list of things he appreciates about sam. their - whatever the hell they are - sure, it started out of loyalty to steve, which bucky can more than respect. but loyalty to steve or not, bucky wouldn't have blamed the guy if he never wanted to lay eyes on him again after he ripped a steering wheel out of his hands in the middle of a highway.
and yet here he is, prodding. prodding very much like bucky used to prod steve. like bucky's just a normal person you can prod, even after being reminded again what the winter soldier was like, even after seeing for the first time with his own eyes - what the winter soldier really was. a thing. a piece of machinery, a piece of property to be traded hands, and formatted like a computer when he wasn't working right. he can be angry with sam and appreciate him at the same time, he has emotions a thousand times more complicated than that, shut up.
sam's met with another long silence, while his cyborg brain computes a reply. ]
s'just a nightmare.
[ he finally says. because he can be mad at sam, but he's over here trying, and he misses that. he's desperate for it, really. because what does he have to come home to -- if not that? and he promised steve he'd try.
that look of loathing in his friend's eyes flashes through his memory. he's never seen steve look that way, not at anyone. he wonders if he even looked at red skull that way, during their final showdown, after his fall.
he can't really picture it. so why is it he can so easily picture it turned toward himself, when steve loved him enough to cross enemy lines on his own for, break up his family, put down his shield? ]
[ there is a lot there that sam has been working on unpacking, bucky. from the way their first meeting happened, to the fact sam had spent so much of that early time trying to convince steve that bucky wasn't able to be saved. a lot has happened since then, and sam's opinions have shifted drastically, but this, whatever this is, is still forming. he can recognize that, and work with that. still forming is better than nothing, and sam is too invested now.
steve rogers or no, sam could have stopped reaching out months ago. steve rogers or no, sam could have sent bucky home when this mission started and they could have gone their separate ways, just as sam had mentioned in that couples therapy session. no one would have blamed him, if he'd just gone home and focused on the issues he has there.
and yet. here he is. here he wants to be.
right now all sam can think about is the concern he'd had watching bucky earlier that night. the concern that hasn't quite fallen away, even now, back at sharon's. in a place that is technically safe, for now. and sam is patient, so when bucky goes quiet, he waits. lets the quiet sounds of the city below them both fill the space. there's a part of sam that is almost worried to breathe, that he'd break whatever train of thought that bucky is warring with in his own head.
and that's when he speaks, and sam lets himself exhale. s'just a nightmare and sam gets it. he knows what that feels like. and he nods. ]
Do you want to talk about it?
[ because that's what it comes down to - the fact that sam won't push, if bucky really doesn't want to bring it up. he won't force himself into that cyborg brain of his, if he doesn't want the help. but he's also here, also willing to, if he does. ]
[ god no. the nightmares about the winter soldier, they're one thing. he doesn't like talking about those - who the hell would? but they're no secret, especially not from sam. sam's seen his past - live, up close, and in color. and he could easily lie, bring up one of the many that haunt him - but what would be the gain in that? he's not exactly eager to talk about those either, if he was, he'd answer every time the doc asks about them.
but this one? that fear that he really is irredeemable, that steve really was wrong to believe in him, that he's so far gone - that if steve were here, even he'd see it now? no, bucky's not ready to bring that one up again, and especially not here, not anywhere near zemo.
if the fear is justified, if it is true, if that rejection is coming, he's not giving that sonofabitch the satisfaction of witnessing his downfall. a part of him argues that there's no way sam would be cooperating with him if he thought he was bad - that they probably wouldn't even need to hire a real pr guy for throwing the winter soldier back behind bars and letting him rot for the rest of his life, so the fact that he's being permitted to roam free, that sam is here by his side, seeing this through with him - it means something. but the rest of him, it's still buried too deep under the guilt, the doubt, the fear, the self loathing, to even hear it. ]
[ sam shrugs, because that's what it is. if bucky doesn't want to get into it, he doesn't have to. there's a kind of tension and feeling in the air that makes sam think it's a little deeper and a little more complicated than just a nightmare but that's bucky's information to divulge. and not sam's to prod for. especially not after the day they've had.
so instead, sam turns a bit, leaning his back against the doorframe. part of him thinks about stepping outside to simply sit with bucky in the silence, but another, larger part is trying to gauge if bucky wants someone in his space at all, yet. sam wants to know what is going on in there, wants to ease it out of bucky, but he has too much experience. knows that it's going to take more than just one night.
so for a few minutes, he just sits with him in the night. if bucky wants to speak, sam will give him the time to get there. if he doesn't, sam will eventually let out another breath. ]
[ the familiarity of their scenario pokes at the back of his mind. and then sam says okay, and it hits him.
how many times has he sat by steve, back in the old days, when they were both still innocent, dumb kids in brooklyn, and sussed out his silences? how many times did he look for clues in steve, on whether he should press an issue, leave him alone, or just take him out to eat? god, it must've been hundreds of times, over the years. steve had such a tendency to get lost in his own head, to think no one could understand.
but bucky understood. he just didn't have the words to articulate it with. there were some things, you just didn't say.
so you'd say okay.
he closes his eyes at the memory, trying to rein in the wave of emotion, and the silence stretches once more. he has no idea how long he's been standing out there, trying to pull himself together, but eventually, he straightens up from his spot leaning against the rail. ]
[ sam watches, just for a few more moments. wonders what could be going on in bucky's head and if he'll ever really want help with it. he wants to help, and that's been a large part of what sam has noticed in himself. that he wants to help, and for all that bucky's going to push back. well. in the words of steve - he could do this all day.
even so, he watches as bucky closes his eyes. watches him fight with something, and then either win, or get beyond it. sam lets himself smile, just faintly enough to feel it, as he nods. once. it's not an agreement but he'll take it. it's as good as he's going to get. ]
I'd say we should go find someplace to grab something, but with that bounty... [ sam pushes off the wall, uncrossing his arms to slide his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. ] So guess it's time to raid Sharon's kitchen.
[ having the intention, but not the words. story of his damn life. one of the happier, nicer, stories of his damn life, actually. it'd be nice, if he could have some peace and quiet, and have communication sit at the top of his list of issues to solve.
it's not going to happen anytime soon, though, hell, he doesn't actually believe it'll ever happen.
there's always gonna be another fight, and he doesn't get to tap out. ]
She looks like the leftover sort.
[ not someone who's got time to cook fresh for one every day. and she probably expected this - you don't bring a supersoldier into your home and expect your fridge to come out of the experience unscathed. bucky shuts the door to the porch behind him, and follows sam into the kitchen. ]
[ sam gets that, he does. when your list of things to fix is an entire book's length, it can be hard to prioritize. and yes, alright, it's possible a bunch of super soldiers running across eastern Europe is a little more pressing of a topic to solve than bucky's ability to communicate in healthy ways.
but maybe it's not about priorities. maybe it's about multitasking, if given the right setting, time, and chance to let him work through it. this isn't sam's first rodeo. ]
Well- you're in luck. I'm a leftover wizard.
[ sam has already turned and started off into the home, heading down the hallway and towards the kitchen. with his back turned to bucky, he doesn't really bother checking to see if bucky locks the door or checks if anyone is watching. doesn't look back to check if bucky is following at all.
little moments of trust working their way into sam's interactions, apparently. ]
[ he's multitasking! he's being angry, hurt, paranoid, and appreciative, that's multitasking, isn't it?
what he really needs to figure out is how to relate to himself. sam may be angry with him, and sure - he's got justified reasons to be, but he does see him as overall more good than bad, he's pretty sure. zemo - zemo is sussing him out. he can feel the prodding every second of every day. sometimes, it's subtle, sometimes - it's much less so. but that constant prodding, it does mean there's a dilemma there, that he's not convinced either way yet.
so he's got a vote for good, and a vote for undecided. where does his fall? he's done terrible things, but not out of choice. but he did them. and what he's doing now? putting sam's life at risk, busting out zemo, involving sharon again - is this justified evil in the name of good, like he's telling himself, like he's telling sam, or just evil?
what would steve have done, if he were here? ]
No such thing as wizards.
[ the day bucky doesn't lock the door and check for danger, that'd either be the day he gives up on living, or the day he can say he's fully recovered. that day is so far off, that he can't even imagine not doing it. so in this, at least, sam's trust is fully justified.
he even follows him, a silent shadow at his back. ]
[ do NOT make sam get the emotion chart out, bucky! he will start from square one so help him, god!
and that's just it - sam isn't mad at bucky. isn't angry with the way he has become. he's frustrated and annoyed and bucky certainly knows every button to press to set sam off. but what started as a shared loyalty, and a friendship born from a respect for that shared loyalty, even sam has to admit that whatever this is going on with him and bucky isn't just because of steve. he trusts bucky, and whether that's smart or good or whatever you want to call it, it's the truth.
sam makes a point to sound put out when he sighs. ] We're not having the conversation again when we both know I'm right. Now- you want food or not?
[ he moves into the kitchen like he's always lived here, filling the space with a comfortable ease that sam has honed over the years. he goes directly for the fridge, so bucky will have to find a spot to settle in. ]
[ see, but that sounds really useful. is it color coded?
maybe he's projecting, because bucky certainly isn't pleased with who he's become. he remembers who he was, now, and in a way that makes everything so much worse - because who he was? was a pretty good guy. no angel, he won't pretend he was ever that, but a good person who knew who he was and what he stood for.
forget steve, what would that guy have to say about the man he grew up to be? nothing nice, he'd wager. or maybe he'd be more forgiving, he can't really objectively say, it was a long time ago and his entire view of the old days is skewed by everything that followed.
bucky leans against the wall as sam gets to work. ]
I don't know that.
[ he didn't used to need to have the last word, but somehow, with sam, he keeps trying to get it. it's one more thing he should probably be asking himself why about, but he's not going to. not now, at least. ]
I didn't come in here for the view. [ pulling himself away from the wall, bucky opens a cabinet in search of a glass to get himself some water. plates. he opens another - and it's bowls. how many dishes does a person need, that they have to be separated into different shelves? he's starting to get frustrated again as he opens the third door. ]
[ funnily enough, it is! he'll print it out and bring it next time. maybe it can help with whatever these conversations are supposed to be, and keep them away from those slight moments when all bucky ends up doing is turning back in on himself.
and no, bucky probably isn't pleased with the man he's working through each day. hell. sam wouldn't be pleased with whatever he would have become either, given the circumstances. steve or no steve, and for all the shit that sam gives him, bucky gets up every day. he tries every day. he works a little closer to what he could be, and that's not nothing. ]
Listen- if you want the food, you will accept that I am all magical when it comes to leftovers and basics. [ sam is currently elbow deep into the fridge, tugging out a few of the leftover boxes and other items he finds in there. when he realizes that bucky is looking around for something, he pops his head out just in time to see bucky open the third cabinet. ]
If you're looking for cups, they're over there. [ he gestures to the other side of the kitchen. ] Closer to the bar.
[ it's worth a try, can't really be worse than what his therapist has him doing.
if he had any sort of objectivity regarding his own progress, maybe bucky could recognize that any minute he's not either curled up into a ball crying his eyes out, or on a murderous, vengeful, rampage, is a win. but he doesn't. all he's got is this anger, this hurt, this fear to sustain him, to keep him going, to keep him trying to prove something that he shouldn't have to prove.
it's exhausting. ]
Not that hungry.
[ he grunts in frustration as the door, once again, proves to be the wrong one. and of course sam knows what the right one is. because this sort of decked out kitchen, it's something he's seen before. avengers compound probably had the works.
he almost wants to give up the whole pretense of this night and -- and what? go back to sleep? that's not happening. he can't leave - there's a price on their heads, and as right as taking punishment feels, he's got a mission to accomplish, he can't tap out. what the hell other option does he have?
striding across the kitchen, bucky opens the next cabinet a little too excessively, and end up with the door in his hand. great. that's going to be a thing, now. with his back turned to sam, he tries to discreetly let out a breath, leans the door down against the floor - he can fix it later - and reaches for a glass. ]
[ yes, well, there are a lot of other things he could be doing instead of what that therapist is telling him. and sam has some ideas. maybe more than just some. but that's a whole different conversation he's not sure either of them are ready to have. and if bucky wanted his advice, he could come to him. sam isn't the type to subject anyone to what he has to say. it's counter-intuitive to the whole process.
still. sam has some things he would like to say. some things he thinks bucky would like to hear. but he's worked with enough trauma survivors and enough war veterans to know what happens when you force anything. so instead, sam is merely here. doing what he can and holding his ground where he can't. ]
You're not that good of a liar. [ is what sam says to that, having enough self preservation to know not to laugh a the frustrated noise bucky makes, only kind of watching as bucky all but stomps off to the other side of the room and watches him - literally - tear the door off its hinges. when bucky turns back around, sam will be standing there, arms crossed over his chest, brow arched at him with a barely contained laugh.
when bucky looks up at him, sam's eyes will go to him, then the cabinet door, then back to him - an unspoken you gonna fix that? before he shakes his head and returns to looking through the boxes of leftovers on the counter in front of him. ]
So I guess that's why you always go at things with your right hand, huh? Your super strength sneak up on you after seventy years?
[ his therapist is a perfect example of what happens when you force it. how's he supposed to cooperate when he doesn't have a choice? and what kind of trust can he build with someone who's so very clearly afraid of him?
he'll never say it, but he's grateful to walker for releasing him from that particular prison. the little bits of advice and care that sam drops around him, even when they fight, are worth infinitely more to him than a thousand hours sitting on a couch in a mostly empty, too large, room, being punished every time he doesn't fall in line. he doesn't really know how to ask for what he needs, let alone what he wants, so when it falls in his lap, he's gotta be grateful.
the look bucky gives sam is a full out challenge. go on, say something, I dare you. the thing is, every time he goads sam, and sam doesn't back down? is helping him a hell of a lot. sam can turn his back to him, he can fight with him, he can reject him. and to bucky?
that means sam isn't afraid of him. and he's desperate for that feeling, for that reassurance. ]
Shoddy modern workmanship, I'll fix it in the morning. [ he doesn't for one second believe he's lucky enough not to have woken zemo with that noise, but he's not about to summon him by making any more. he strides over to the sink, fills his glass, and gulps it down. ]
[ yes well, sam has some very choice words for that therapist, and not just because he was forced into one of her sessions. he's not even accredited himself, but he has been through enough group sessions and his own fair share of therapy appointments to know when someone just isn't right. and maybe he's no expert. maybe he has no right to tell whatever government official assigned whatever military therapist she's supposed to be.
all sam really wants to say is that maybe, just maybe, there are other things to try. other things that are working. or might work. if bucky wanted the help. but that's a conversation for another time. so for now sam just gives what he can - the advice, the space, the patience. because he's nearly been killed at the hands of the winter soldier more times than he cares to count, he got put on the raft while attempting to clear bucky's name, and now? now there really isn't anyone else he would pick to be at his side. (except for maybe one, but that's not even a possibility)
it's not just that sam isn't afraid of him. sam trusts bucky to have his back. weird stares and grumpy faces and all. i'll fix it in the morning and sam snorts, starting to open the various boxes of leftovers he's got spread out in front of him. ]
You better, or she's going to kill you. And then probably me. [ he looks like he considers this, before picking up one of the takeout boxes. smells it once. then makes a face and sets it back down. ]
So what are we feeling - something...spicy? Savory? You don't have any weird food issues, right?
[ he can't quite put a word to his last session with the doctor - heartbreaking feels wrong, it's too dramatic, and besides, his heart's been broken a long time ago, and he never really trusted her to begin with, but it's as close as he can get, so heartbreaking it is.
it's not that he doesn't listen to sam, it's not that he doesn't understand that sam has good reasons - excellent reasons, even - to be upset with him. no one, not even the families of the winter soldier's victims, not the people who suffered most at his hands, is harsher on bucky than he is on himself. so sam's response, he can understand.
but that woman spent months in that room trying to get him to say something real, and then he did, and she said nothing.
and what more proof does he need? people want to help you, she told him you have to trust. but in the end, she just wanted him off her plate.
it's not that he doesn't want to try, but how's he supposed to try when he hears one thing, but experiences another? how's he supposed to try when he's still forced into things? everything is foreign around him, and it feels like he doesn't even speak the language. with steve gone, he's lost his interpreter, too.
bucky huffs at that comment, and refills his glass. he's got a mission, now, he's not about to die before its done. but if she wants to try once that's finished, she's welcome to. he drinks his water, and rinses his glass. ]
Solid.
[ he's not a picky eater, never was - and even if he ever had that inclination, the great depression followed by the army would've beat it out of him. he'll eat most anything; cold, expired, and dropped on the floor.
but if you give him a protein shake sam, he swears to god. ]
[ but being upset isn't really the full of it, is it? doesn't really capture what it is at its heart. it's more that sam is trying. he's trying to do what he thinks is right, trying to do what he believes is the best, and so far at every turn he's become more and more uncertain. steve always knew what direction to go in, always what he believed was right. it's easy to follow someone like that.
sam isn't so sure. also isn't sure how he feels about anyone following him. especially when it comes to the way bucky will look at him, whenever the shield comes up. because while sam wants to help bucky, he's not entirely sure he wants to save him. he's no steve rogers. and he'll never be.
that's all under the surface whenever it comes to moments like this. all things that sam finds himself thinking when it's just him in the night, but never when he's got somewhere for his hands to be. something to do. a problem to solve.
like, right now, their midnight snack. ] What do I look like to you- a heathen? [ he snorts, shakes his head. ] Please.
[ there will be no protein shakes here! and sam will get to work doing....whatever it is he's going to do with these leftovers. but they'll definitely be solid by the end. ]
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no subject
AND HONESTLY IM DOWN FOR ANYTHING. i like action brackets but can also do prose too! i ship them really hard but can also do bromance/tension! happy or sad or intense or WHATEVER. i have tfatws brainrot right now so i could be up for literally anything. c:
do you have any preferences, though??? c:
no subject
I'll go with bromance to start with, if it's all the same to you o/ I'm about as rusty at rping as bucky is at socializing, so if anything doesn't work feel free to kick me onto the right path/ignore my starter and write your own
~*~
[ nightmares are a fact of life for bucky, have been for a long time. really, the only time they stopped was when the part of him that identifies itself as "bucky" was pushed way down deep into his subconscious, battered to all hell, broken, and buried under mountains of programming, and the occasional hydra propaganda, depending on how what level of humanity any given handler decided to assign to him. in a way, it's almost comforting, to have them, they let him know he's still mostly himself, mostly in control.
but this one? this one's definitely a new one. it's not exactly worse than the others - he's not killing an innocent person in it, not ruining an economy, a country, a family, not remembering a true event - but it's not better, either.
in his dream, he stands before an eleven year old steve rogers; scrawny as he was, he could easily pass for eight. but true to form, the kid doesn't let their size difference hold him back one little bit - he glares at bucky like he's the scum of the earth, like nothing will save him from the well deserved dose of justice that's about to rain down on his head.
it's one of the shortest nightmares he has, because that look alone - the disappointment, the loathing, the disgust on his best friend's face - it's enough to have his heart racing, his adrenaline pumping, and his body waking up ready to defend himself from a lethal blow. but how do you defend against your own head? it's not a question he's ever managed to answer.
bucky pulls himself up to his feet, quiet as, well, an assassin, and walks out to the porch. it's probably not the smartest move, considering people are trying to kill them, and he knows better than anyone just how patient a sniper can be, but maybe a part of him just doesn't care. ]
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AND THAT IS TOTALLY FINE WITH ME. i love every interaction between these two. also!!! how are you on spoilers? c: i can adjust any of the below if need be.
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[ sam wilson should, for all intents and purposes, be used to this kind of thing by now. the last few years of his life has built him up to a place where this - any of this - shouldn't be surprising. not alien attacks, not intergalactic wars, not time travel, and certainly not bounties on their heads. people being out to kill them is normal, people being out to kill him is normal. this - all of this - should be something he can take with stride.
but there's also a bigger part of him that never wants to be that person. that never wants any of this to feel normal. going home, being with his family - that is the kind of person he wants to think of when he thinks of his life. bounties and assassins and taking classified trips across the globe to places the government doesn't need to know he's in? he can manage. he can survive. he can get through those missions and make it back home and then things can be normal.
all that's to say is that sam hasn't been sleeping well. and whether bucky makes just enough noise to rouse him from whatever not sleep sam had been doing, or it's just the luck of the draw that he happens to be getting a glass of water right when he sees the other get up, it doesn't really matter. what does matter is that sam sees bucky get up, a kind of tension and heaviness to his shoulders, and he can tell it was a nightmare. can tell that it has been a bad night.
sam stands in the hallway for one moment, and then a moment longer, deciding if this is something he plans on doing. if this is a conversation he, or bucky, wants to have. and then, once those moments are over, sam heaves a sigh and follows, moving through the space and stopping just inside the door to the porch. because while bucky may be okay with challenging killers from all angles, but sam is not. so instead he remains just inside, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the door. ]
Hey. [ quiet, though he's sure bucky heard him coming. knows that he's probably not startling him. ] You good?
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ME TOO I'm excited for this :D and I'm all caught up, you're good o7
~*~
[ people trying to kill him? absolutely feels normal to bucky. it's everything else that's a struggle. every time he opens his eyes he sees something that reminds him - not that he was ever in any danger of forgetting - that life's gone very wrong, that he's not where he belongs, that he's not who he was supposed to be.
he was supposed to come home, he had a family waiting. twice they were sent letters of condolences. twice, they were lies. and as if it wasn't bad enough, they'd lost steve, too. did anyone bother visiting them? there's no one left to ask. it was his job to take care of them, and he didn't. it was his job to lay down his life for his country - he didn't do that, either.
so what's his job now, and should he even look for one, with his track record?
he can hear sam's approach, and sighs inwardly. like sam, he's not quite sure whether he really wants to have this conversation - or it's the last thing he wants to do. it's one or the other, he can tell that much, but which? well, it's probably not a question he'll have an answer for until he does it, and he's damn good at putting off this conversation. it's real easy, when everyone who's ever really known him is gone. ]
Peachy. [ it would probably be easier if he'd have been a better liar, but the winter soldier was an assassin, not a spy. he didn't really do too much talking. ]
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granted - being in madripoor and having a multi-million dollar bounty on their heads doesn't really make any of this feel normal, but sam is rolling with the punches here. he's good at that. ]
Sarcasm. Cute. [ he shifts a bit where he's leaning in the doorframe, trying to gauge from bucky's shoulders, from the tension in his back, if this is a real danger that sam should walk away from, or something he can push. it's another second before he exhales, shaking his head a bit.
apparently, he's doing this, so bucky will have to accept that. ]
Do you want to talk about it? [ a beat of silence follows, where sam gives bucky enough time to really think about it before he continues. ] I can hear those cyborg gears turning from here. I know something is going on up there.
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most days. ]
You need some new material.
[ if his tone of voice is anything to go by the danger is, for the moment, at least, fairly low. his voice is mostly tired. he's said his piece at their ridiculous counselling meeting, that didn't really get them anywhere, did it? he's starting to feel that maybe nothing ever will - because why should it?
the winter soldier cannot be redeemed, and try as he might to alienate himself from the machine, he was still the man under the mask. nothing is ever going to change that. having to pretend to be that again heartless machine again, it only proved that. zemo's point, he suspects. that's one point to him. ]
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and he'll be here when he's in a space to reach out. ]
And that wasn't an answer.
[ sam likes to think that he can tell when bucky's tone is actually dangerous, versus when it's just bucky being. well. bucky. there is a lot going on there, and also a lot happening in bucky's life with his therapist, so sam doesn't. pressure it. or push. winter soldier or not, bucky isn't giving off the vibe that sam needs to worry about this, so sam just settles himself where he is leaning and waits. ]
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and yet here he is, prodding. prodding very much like bucky used to prod steve. like bucky's just a normal person you can prod, even after being reminded again what the winter soldier was like, even after seeing for the first time with his own eyes - what the winter soldier really was. a thing. a piece of machinery, a piece of property to be traded hands, and formatted like a computer when he wasn't working right. he can be angry with sam and appreciate him at the same time, he has emotions a thousand times more complicated than that, shut up.
sam's met with another long silence, while his cyborg brain computes a reply. ]
s'just a nightmare.
[ he finally says. because he can be mad at sam, but he's over here trying, and he misses that. he's desperate for it, really. because what does he have to come home to -- if not that? and he promised steve he'd try.
that look of loathing in his friend's eyes flashes through his memory. he's never seen steve look that way, not at anyone. he wonders if he even looked at red skull that way, during their final showdown, after his fall.
he can't really picture it. so why is it he can so easily picture it turned toward himself, when steve loved him enough to cross enemy lines on his own for, break up his family, put down his shield? ]
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steve rogers or no, sam could have stopped reaching out months ago. steve rogers or no, sam could have sent bucky home when this mission started and they could have gone their separate ways, just as sam had mentioned in that couples therapy session. no one would have blamed him, if he'd just gone home and focused on the issues he has there.
and yet. here he is. here he wants to be.
right now all sam can think about is the concern he'd had watching bucky earlier that night. the concern that hasn't quite fallen away, even now, back at sharon's. in a place that is technically safe, for now. and sam is patient, so when bucky goes quiet, he waits. lets the quiet sounds of the city below them both fill the space. there's a part of sam that is almost worried to breathe, that he'd break whatever train of thought that bucky is warring with in his own head.
and that's when he speaks, and sam lets himself exhale. s'just a nightmare and sam gets it. he knows what that feels like. and he nods. ]
Do you want to talk about it?
[ because that's what it comes down to - the fact that sam won't push, if bucky really doesn't want to bring it up. he won't force himself into that cyborg brain of his, if he doesn't want the help. but he's also here, also willing to, if he does. ]
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[ god no. the nightmares about the winter soldier, they're one thing. he doesn't like talking about those - who the hell would? but they're no secret, especially not from sam. sam's seen his past - live, up close, and in color. and he could easily lie, bring up one of the many that haunt him - but what would be the gain in that? he's not exactly eager to talk about those either, if he was, he'd answer every time the doc asks about them.
but this one? that fear that he really is irredeemable, that steve really was wrong to believe in him, that he's so far gone - that if steve were here, even he'd see it now? no, bucky's not ready to bring that one up again, and especially not here, not anywhere near zemo.
if the fear is justified, if it is true, if that rejection is coming, he's not giving that sonofabitch the satisfaction of witnessing his downfall. a part of him argues that there's no way sam would be cooperating with him if he thought he was bad - that they probably wouldn't even need to hire a real pr guy for throwing the winter soldier back behind bars and letting him rot for the rest of his life, so the fact that he's being permitted to roam free, that sam is here by his side, seeing this through with him - it means something. but the rest of him, it's still buried too deep under the guilt, the doubt, the fear, the self loathing, to even hear it. ]
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[ sam shrugs, because that's what it is. if bucky doesn't want to get into it, he doesn't have to. there's a kind of tension and feeling in the air that makes sam think it's a little deeper and a little more complicated than just a nightmare but that's bucky's information to divulge. and not sam's to prod for. especially not after the day they've had.
so instead, sam turns a bit, leaning his back against the doorframe. part of him thinks about stepping outside to simply sit with bucky in the silence, but another, larger part is trying to gauge if bucky wants someone in his space at all, yet. sam wants to know what is going on in there, wants to ease it out of bucky, but he has too much experience. knows that it's going to take more than just one night.
so for a few minutes, he just sits with him in the night. if bucky wants to speak, sam will give him the time to get there. if he doesn't, sam will eventually let out another breath. ]
You hungry?
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how many times has he sat by steve, back in the old days, when they were both still innocent, dumb kids in brooklyn, and sussed out his silences? how many times did he look for clues in steve, on whether he should press an issue, leave him alone, or just take him out to eat? god, it must've been hundreds of times, over the years. steve had such a tendency to get lost in his own head, to think no one could understand.
but bucky understood. he just didn't have the words to articulate it with. there were some things, you just didn't say.
so you'd say okay.
he closes his eyes at the memory, trying to rein in the wave of emotion, and the silence stretches once more. he has no idea how long he's been standing out there, trying to pull himself together, but eventually, he straightens up from his spot leaning against the rail. ]
I could eat.
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even so, he watches as bucky closes his eyes. watches him fight with something, and then either win, or get beyond it. sam lets himself smile, just faintly enough to feel it, as he nods. once. it's not an agreement but he'll take it. it's as good as he's going to get. ]
I'd say we should go find someplace to grab something, but with that bounty... [ sam pushes off the wall, uncrossing his arms to slide his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. ] So guess it's time to raid Sharon's kitchen.
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it's not going to happen anytime soon, though, hell, he doesn't actually believe it'll ever happen.
there's always gonna be another fight, and he doesn't get to tap out. ]
She looks like the leftover sort.
[ not someone who's got time to cook fresh for one every day. and she probably expected this - you don't bring a supersoldier into your home and expect your fridge to come out of the experience unscathed. bucky shuts the door to the porch behind him, and follows sam into the kitchen. ]
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but maybe it's not about priorities. maybe it's about multitasking, if given the right setting, time, and chance to let him work through it. this isn't sam's first rodeo. ]
Well- you're in luck. I'm a leftover wizard.
[ sam has already turned and started off into the home, heading down the hallway and towards the kitchen. with his back turned to bucky, he doesn't really bother checking to see if bucky locks the door or checks if anyone is watching. doesn't look back to check if bucky is following at all.
little moments of trust working their way into sam's interactions, apparently. ]
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what he really needs to figure out is how to relate to himself. sam may be angry with him, and sure - he's got justified reasons to be, but he does see him as overall more good than bad, he's pretty sure. zemo - zemo is sussing him out. he can feel the prodding every second of every day. sometimes, it's subtle, sometimes - it's much less so. but that constant prodding, it does mean there's a dilemma there, that he's not convinced either way yet.
so he's got a vote for good, and a vote for undecided. where does his fall? he's done terrible things, but not out of choice. but he did them. and what he's doing now? putting sam's life at risk, busting out zemo, involving sharon again - is this justified evil in the name of good, like he's telling himself, like he's telling sam, or just evil?
what would steve have done, if he were here? ]
No such thing as wizards.
[ the day bucky doesn't lock the door and check for danger, that'd either be the day he gives up on living, or the day he can say he's fully recovered. that day is so far off, that he can't even imagine not doing it. so in this, at least, sam's trust is fully justified.
he even follows him, a silent shadow at his back. ]
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and that's just it - sam isn't mad at bucky. isn't angry with the way he has become. he's frustrated and annoyed and bucky certainly knows every button to press to set sam off. but what started as a shared loyalty, and a friendship born from a respect for that shared loyalty, even sam has to admit that whatever this is going on with him and bucky isn't just because of steve. he trusts bucky, and whether that's smart or good or whatever you want to call it, it's the truth.
sam makes a point to sound put out when he sighs. ] We're not having the conversation again when we both know I'm right. Now- you want food or not?
[ he moves into the kitchen like he's always lived here, filling the space with a comfortable ease that sam has honed over the years. he goes directly for the fridge, so bucky will have to find a spot to settle in. ]
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maybe he's projecting, because bucky certainly isn't pleased with who he's become. he remembers who he was, now, and in a way that makes everything so much worse - because who he was? was a pretty good guy. no angel, he won't pretend he was ever that, but a good person who knew who he was and what he stood for.
forget steve, what would that guy have to say about the man he grew up to be? nothing nice, he'd wager. or maybe he'd be more forgiving, he can't really objectively say, it was a long time ago and his entire view of the old days is skewed by everything that followed.
bucky leans against the wall as sam gets to work. ]
I don't know that.
[ he didn't used to need to have the last word, but somehow, with sam, he keeps trying to get it. it's one more thing he should probably be asking himself why about, but he's not going to. not now, at least. ]
I didn't come in here for the view. [ pulling himself away from the wall, bucky opens a cabinet in search of a glass to get himself some water. plates. he opens another - and it's bowls. how many dishes does a person need, that they have to be separated into different shelves? he's starting to get frustrated again as he opens the third door. ]
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and no, bucky probably isn't pleased with the man he's working through each day. hell. sam wouldn't be pleased with whatever he would have become either, given the circumstances. steve or no steve, and for all the shit that sam gives him, bucky gets up every day. he tries every day. he works a little closer to what he could be, and that's not nothing. ]
Listen- if you want the food, you will accept that I am all magical when it comes to leftovers and basics. [ sam is currently elbow deep into the fridge, tugging out a few of the leftover boxes and other items he finds in there. when he realizes that bucky is looking around for something, he pops his head out just in time to see bucky open the third cabinet. ]
If you're looking for cups, they're over there. [ he gestures to the other side of the kitchen. ] Closer to the bar.
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if he had any sort of objectivity regarding his own progress, maybe bucky could recognize that any minute he's not either curled up into a ball crying his eyes out, or on a murderous, vengeful, rampage, is a win. but he doesn't. all he's got is this anger, this hurt, this fear to sustain him, to keep him going, to keep him trying to prove something that he shouldn't have to prove.
it's exhausting. ]
Not that hungry.
[ he grunts in frustration as the door, once again, proves to be the wrong one. and of course sam knows what the right one is. because this sort of decked out kitchen, it's something he's seen before. avengers compound probably had the works.
he almost wants to give up the whole pretense of this night and -- and what? go back to sleep? that's not happening. he can't leave - there's a price on their heads, and as right as taking punishment feels, he's got a mission to accomplish, he can't tap out. what the hell other option does he have?
striding across the kitchen, bucky opens the next cabinet a little too excessively, and end up with the door in his hand. great. that's going to be a thing, now. with his back turned to sam, he tries to discreetly let out a breath, leans the door down against the floor - he can fix it later - and reaches for a glass. ]
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still. sam has some things he would like to say. some things he thinks bucky would like to hear. but he's worked with enough trauma survivors and enough war veterans to know what happens when you force anything. so instead, sam is merely here. doing what he can and holding his ground where he can't. ]
You're not that good of a liar. [ is what sam says to that, having enough self preservation to know not to laugh a the frustrated noise bucky makes, only kind of watching as bucky all but stomps off to the other side of the room and watches him - literally - tear the door off its hinges. when bucky turns back around, sam will be standing there, arms crossed over his chest, brow arched at him with a barely contained laugh.
when bucky looks up at him, sam's eyes will go to him, then the cabinet door, then back to him - an unspoken you gonna fix that? before he shakes his head and returns to looking through the boxes of leftovers on the counter in front of him. ]
So I guess that's why you always go at things with your right hand, huh? Your super strength sneak up on you after seventy years?
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he'll never say it, but he's grateful to walker for releasing him from that particular prison. the little bits of advice and care that sam drops around him, even when they fight, are worth infinitely more to him than a thousand hours sitting on a couch in a mostly empty, too large, room, being punished every time he doesn't fall in line. he doesn't really know how to ask for what he needs, let alone what he wants, so when it falls in his lap, he's gotta be grateful.
the look bucky gives sam is a full out challenge. go on, say something, I dare you. the thing is, every time he goads sam, and sam doesn't back down? is helping him a hell of a lot. sam can turn his back to him, he can fight with him, he can reject him. and to bucky?
that means sam isn't afraid of him. and he's desperate for that feeling, for that reassurance. ]
Shoddy modern workmanship, I'll fix it in the morning. [ he doesn't for one second believe he's lucky enough not to have woken zemo with that noise, but he's not about to summon him by making any more. he strides over to the sink, fills his glass, and gulps it down. ]
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all sam really wants to say is that maybe, just maybe, there are other things to try. other things that are working. or might work. if bucky wanted the help. but that's a conversation for another time. so for now sam just gives what he can - the advice, the space, the patience. because he's nearly been killed at the hands of the winter soldier more times than he cares to count, he got put on the raft while attempting to clear bucky's name, and now? now there really isn't anyone else he would pick to be at his side. (except for maybe one, but that's not even a possibility)
it's not just that sam isn't afraid of him. sam trusts bucky to have his back. weird stares and grumpy faces and all. i'll fix it in the morning and sam snorts, starting to open the various boxes of leftovers he's got spread out in front of him. ]
You better, or she's going to kill you. And then probably me. [ he looks like he considers this, before picking up one of the takeout boxes. smells it once. then makes a face and sets it back down. ]
So what are we feeling - something...spicy? Savory? You don't have any weird food issues, right?
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it's not that he doesn't listen to sam, it's not that he doesn't understand that sam has good reasons - excellent reasons, even - to be upset with him. no one, not even the families of the winter soldier's victims, not the people who suffered most at his hands, is harsher on bucky than he is on himself. so sam's response, he can understand.
but that woman spent months in that room trying to get him to say something real, and then he did, and she said nothing.
and what more proof does he need? people want to help you, she told him you have to trust. but in the end, she just wanted him off her plate.
it's not that he doesn't want to try, but how's he supposed to try when he hears one thing, but experiences another? how's he supposed to try when he's still forced into things? everything is foreign around him, and it feels like he doesn't even speak the language. with steve gone, he's lost his interpreter, too.
bucky huffs at that comment, and refills his glass. he's got a mission, now, he's not about to die before its done. but if she wants to try once that's finished, she's welcome to. he drinks his water, and rinses his glass. ]
Solid.
[ he's not a picky eater, never was - and even if he ever had that inclination, the great depression followed by the army would've beat it out of him. he'll eat most anything; cold, expired, and dropped on the floor.
but if you give him a protein shake sam, he swears to god. ]
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sam isn't so sure. also isn't sure how he feels about anyone following him. especially when it comes to the way bucky will look at him, whenever the shield comes up. because while sam wants to help bucky, he's not entirely sure he wants to save him. he's no steve rogers. and he'll never be.
that's all under the surface whenever it comes to moments like this. all things that sam finds himself thinking when it's just him in the night, but never when he's got somewhere for his hands to be. something to do. a problem to solve.
like, right now, their midnight snack. ] What do I look like to you- a heathen? [ he snorts, shakes his head. ] Please.
[ there will be no protein shakes here! and sam will get to work doing....whatever it is he's going to do with these leftovers. but they'll definitely be solid by the end. ]
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