imfollowinghim | fourteen ✪ voice

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fourteen ✪ voice

[Anyone on the second floor (or first or third, really) might have heard a couple gunshots, shattering glass and other signs of a fight not too soon before Bucky's post. Then there's another gunshot, and silence for a couple seconds before quiet voices start up - C'rizz and Bucky.

A while later, a post's on the network. Bucky's panting and his voice is hoarse and strained, either because he's exhausted or in a hell of a lot of pain (it's both), but he manages to let everyone know what the hell was going on anyway.]

Zane's dead. [That's it. That's all he wants to say about it, and it kind of seems like he's going to leave it at that before he bites out:]

We need fucking call signs or passwords next time this happens.

[And then clicks the comm off so he can figure out how he's getting to the infirmary, because he is definitely not being carried.]

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[It's a talent, okay. They're good at just knowing instinctively how to help the other, even if they're both terrible at articulating or sharing what's actually the problem.

Bucky smiles, and even if there are lines of pain around his eyes, it's still genuine. They're okay. They're going to be okay so long as they have each other, and they have that right now. Maybe Bucky had worried about it at first when he'd found out how long it had been for Steve since he fell, but just like before, Steve obviously still needs him around.

And Bucky sure as hell needs Steve, even if he's maybe held back on finishing the sentence he'd thrown at him after Steve's mom had passed. "End of the line" seems a lot more real than it had been back then, given how things had ended, and either way, he knows Steve knows what he means. They're in this together, because they just flat out don't work as well on their own. They need each other, even if they're not always attached at the hip.

They're two pieces of work, aren't they?

He grimaces a little guiltily at Steve's question, pulling his attention back to himself for a moment, taking stock of what hurts and what doesn't.]

Not great. [Pretty bad he means, because his ribs are throbbing and his palm itches where the shiv he'd used to try and cut Zane had bit into his skin, and his head still feels kind of fucked up, but he doesn't want to fess up about how little the drugs are doing for him anymore than he had back when he'd first started realizing it was happening.

Still, he admitted that much, instead of trying to act like he was completely fine. So appreciate that?]

I did kinda get my ass handed to me. Head feels a little clearer though. [Which is a good thing.

He pats Steve's arm affectionately before finally letting go, if only because he's starting to get a little shaky from exertion and pain now that the adrenaline's wearing off.]

I can move over, if you wanna get off the couch for a while. [Or maybe that's just his way of asking for company, because he still feels like shit, but he has no idea when he's going to manage sleep again, given how bad everything feels.]

[That's something Steve has always believed, since he can remember - they'll be okay, as long as they have each other.

Of course, it made it a lot easier to get lost, when they didn't. He needs Bucky - he'll always need Bucky, for a hundred different reasons. First and foremost of which is that he doesn't take shit from Steve, doesn't let Steve get away with squat. And it's sort of nice to have someone to answer to, especially when you're like Steve, and decide that taking care of everyone else comes first - and at the expense of taking care of yourself.

Then again… that's sort of Bucky's MO, and it's the reason Steve doesn't take shit from him, either.

Which is why he's glad when Bucky's at least pretty honest, when he admits he doesn't feel great. Steve just nods, humming a little - he's not about to point out that Bucky had his ass handed to him, but if Bucky's going to say it, he's not going to argue. He is glad to hear his head feels better, though, because that was honestly the most worrying part of it all.] That's good. Nothing like feeling like your head's stuffed with cotton to really bring a guy down.

[He pauses for a second - seriously considering just brushing the offer off, because Bucky needs the bed more than he does. But he can sort of read between the lines, and honestly, a little company wouldn't be unwelcome on his part, either.

He smiles, shifting up as Bucky lets go of his arm, so he can slide onto the bed - ideally jostling it and its occupant as little as possible.] You don't have to move much.

[And even if Bucky does move, Steve's going to try to take up as little room as possible on the bed as he settles down, which probably looks, admittedly, a little ridiculous. But just like it's always been instinct for Bucky to make sure there's a little more food on Steve's plate than on his (and don't think he never noticed), it's also instinct for Steve to make sure there's more room on Bucky's side of the bed than on his.]

[The comment about head injuries get a sort of amused snort from Bucky, because, well.]

Yeah, you'd know. [Steve's probably lucky he's got a functional brain at all, considering all the blows to the head he's taken over the years.

Bucky's just happy he's able to bounce back more quickly than he used to.

And he does scoot over a little to make room, because he's used to Steve pulling this and he knows that it had worked a little better when Steve was a lot smaller. Now Steve just takes up more room in the first place, and Bucky doesn't want him falling out of the bed or anything, and Steve's a stubborn pain in the ass about far more trivial things, so it's a weird little dance routine they find themselves caught up in, most of the time.

But he doesn't go far, partially because it really fucking hurts to move at all, and maybe because he doesn't really mind being kind of crammed close anyway. They've done this a million times before, as kids, teenagers, young adults, after Steve had sprung him from the factory and when they'd been stuck out in the middle of nowhere Belgium in some shitty, half flooded foxhole, so this is fine. Comfortable, familiar, all of that.

(Just don't go elbowing him in the ribs by accident, that probably won't end well tonight.)

Bucky shifts a little so he can comfortably look at Steve from where he's lying, biting the inside of his cheek to stop from grunting in pain when he does so, but then he settles in more or less for good.]

Sorry I'm not great company these days. [It's half a joke, because it's not like it's a secret as to why he's not been his usual sunny self.

Sort of.]

[Steve snorts a little, but Bucky's not exactly wrong. Most fights had involved punches to the face, maybe in part because Steve's face had been within easy reach at shoulder-level for most full-grown guys. At least these days, people have to work a little harder to get him in the head - and his head's harder, too.

Not that he hasn't always had a hard head, at least figuratively. Sheer stubbornness has seen him through a lot. He doesn't plan to give up that technique anytime soon, either.] I would know - so I know it's gonna take a couple of days to clear up.

[And you don't have to go pretending you're fine in the meantime. Steve still thinks Bucky's hiding a lot, but at least he's not hiding everything. Besides, Steve's hiding some, too, because he's got a hunch, based on how well painkillers work for him (which is to say, not at all, unless they're dosed for a pack of elephants), but he can't say a damn thing, so the best he can do is try to give Bucky as many outs as he can.

Which includes trying to slide on the bed without making him move at all, but that doesn't quite work and he tries to hide the wince as Bucky looks less than comfortable, at least while he's trying to find a good spot. But he does sort of appreciate not being in danger of falling off the bed; he'll also promise no elbows to the ribs. There's more room on here than anything else they've shared. Steve's suddenly glad he opted for something bigger than a twin - because it probably sounds ridiculous, but that's all he'd ever had, and it's what he'd considered getting, pushing six-foot-two or not. Now he's really, really glad he splurged on something bigger, even if it felt ridiculous to him to have so much damn space to sleep.

He does laugh quietly, though, shrugging with the shoulder that's not settled into the mattress.] Like you're ever good company? [But he's teasing.] Buck, it's fine. Being laid up's the worst, and I know it. You're just not used to it - and I promise, being used to it doesn't make it better, anyway.

You'll be back up on your feet before you know it. [He'd believe that, anyway, even without what he already knows.] Sometimes I wonder how the Admiral expects us to get anything done, with all this other... stuff going on. Although I guess there's something to be said for character-building under adversity.

[He sounds wry, because come on, if you consider character-building under adversity, he and Bucky should be overflowing with character.]

[Look, don't get him wrong, it's still weird as hell to know you're suddenly living in a place that's world's nicer than anything else they've ever had, and that he's allowed to crash here whenever he wants, but this was definitely a good idea. Bucky'll probably still find it too squishy to be comfortable under normal circumstances, but sleeping on a marshmallow works pretty well when you're aching all over.]

Asshole, [He quips right back with a small grin, because please, he's always good company. The smile tapers off for a moment while he listens (strange, how this conversation has kind of been turned on his head, because how many times has he told Steve he'll be feeling better in no time?), but he barks out a genuine laugh at the next part, which hurts a little, but he's not sorry about it.]

What, we haven't done enough of that already?

[He knows Steve is kidding, but he still lifts his right hand, and starts ticking off items on his fingers.]

Orphans, growing up poor, trying to hold down a steady job and not wind up on the street, you being sick all the fucking time, running into a goddamn world war? [His grin falters a little bit, because they know what came after that. Bucky's death, Steve's crash, winding up alone in the future.

They've been handed shitty hand after shitty hand, and they usually figure out a way to make it work. Usually.

Except Bucky's dead, and Steve's alone and clearly depressed, and honestly? He's really, really sick of needing to fight tooth and nail for everything, and he's ten times sicker of seeing the universe use Steve as a punching bag.

Which doesn't mean he's not going to fight, or struggle, or lose whatever optimism he's been able to hang onto, but he still wishes things were easier, on Steve at least.

He drops his hand back to the mattress, still smirking.]

I'm scared as hell of what the Admiral'd come up with for us next.

[And again, it's a joke, and it's not. It's not like Bucky had been able to keep Steve safe the way he'd want to during the war, but at least he'd known what they were up against. Here, he could be the one hurting Steve, or not even remember him, or who knows what else?

At least he's safe right now.]

[Steve definitely figured that all other arguments aside, this bed would be about fifty times more comfortable than either of Bucky's other options. It was half the reason he was willing to fight to get him down here, although he's glad they didn't have to have some choice words, that Bucky just came willingly - even if Steve had to carry him down a couple of decks, and yeah, he feels bad about that, okay?

Not bad enough not to make a face when Bucky insults him right back, though. Besides, he has to chuckle a little when Bucky starts listing things, despite everything.] Yeah, we've kind of done it all, huh? Doesn't explain why you're still a miscreant, then.

[Like Steve's not more of a troublemaker than Bucky ever was. And he knows it. Steve's the one who was always picking fights - oh, sure, Bucky picked a few, but he was mostly pulling Steve out of them, not running into them without good cause. Not that Steve would say he never had good cause. But it doesn't change things, either.

And he'd rather focus on the stupid stuff than anything that's been happening lately, in 1945 or in 2014 or whenever. And even though he knows Bucky is half joking, about what the Admiral might come up with, he knows he's half serious. And it does worry Steve, too. There's so much that could go wrong. There's so much that has gone wrong. What if the Admiral decides it's better if Steve tells the truth? What then?

But he just has to figure they'll cross that bridge when they come to it. It's what they've always done in the past. All the planning in the world gets you nowhere when life throws you curveballs, fastballs, spitballs, and then fires a cannon or few at you, to boot.

And he still knows he got the easy end of the deal.

Still, he manages to smile and point out,] Well, he's already turned you into a woman.

[And that… went okay? Except for the part where he still hopes Becky is… back home, wherever she belongs. It wasn't just Bucky in a woman's body. It was a completely different - and yet similar - person.]

I guess we'd better just hang on for the ride, and avoid giving him any ideas. [He lets out a breath.] Besides, you'll be back on your feet before anything else comes up. [Okay, he's only been here two months, but it's been consistent so far. Even with this unexpected adventure, there's been a lull between things. He hopes that holds.] As long as you take it easy now.

[Hint, hint.]

Oh, I'm the miscreant? That's rich. [And you might not want to shove him, Steve, but Bucky is definitely thumping you on the arm in retaliation for the insult.] You're just lucky I keep my mouth shut about what a little shit "Captain America" was before he put on the mask and tights. I'm sure the reporters'd love that.

[Which is all true, of course, but the thing is? Bucky's always known Steve's the better man of the two of them. That's only gotten clearer after the war, because Bucky's felt pieces of his humanity chip and fray, and he'd like to think he's not a monster, but there's still something fractured, there.

Steve fights bullies. Bucky kills people, and he'd do it forever if it'd keep Steve (and the free world, and innocent people, but mostly Steve) safe, and he'd stopped feeling sorry for the bodies he's left behind a long time ago.

(People keep reassuring him about killing Zane, and they don't need to. He's sorry, sure, because the guy hadn't been in his right mind, but he'd do it again. No question. Hadn't been when it'd happened, either.)

And that's why it's harder still to know that his friend still can't seem to catch a break. It's not fair. Steve deserves so much more than that, and Bucky wishes he could just give it to him, the same way he'd been able to hand over an extra apple or a warmer jacket, but he can't, and it's not fair.

So maybe that train of thought makes his answering smile a little slow, maybe a little faded, but he manages one anyway.]

At least I was good looking. [He's thought about what happens to them too, the people who get brought here because of a flood. There's already at least one other Barge out there, maybe, and Jean had known him as a teenager in tights and a domino mask, so the idea that there are other universes out there probably isn't too hard to wrap your mind around.

But Steve's right, there's nothing they can really do but sit around and wait. Bucky's definitely not complaining (yet) about having some downtime to recover from the last catastrophe.]

This might come as a surprise, [Considering what you'd probably be doing if their positions were reversed, you know it, Bucky knows it.] But I'm not really planning on running a marathon any time soon.

[Because he's not an idiot, unlike certain other people.

Bucky gets quiet for a moment, letting out a soft breath, expression getting a little distant and pensive before all of that vanishes behind another small smile.]

I'm really glad you're here, pal.

[Steve just manages to look smug - although fine, go ahead and thump him, he deserves it, but he's not going to look apologetic for it, either. Or let you get the last laugh.] They'd never believe you. Think you were trying to slander my good name.

[Yeah, except for the shit-eating grin on his face.

Still. Things have changed, a lot. But even then… fractured or not, Bucky's not a monster. He never will be. No one, nothing, will ever convince Steve otherwise. Never. And if he's got to remind Bucky of that until he's blue in the face… well, he will. That's what friends do.

(And honestly? Steve might have killed Zane too, had he been where Bucky was. He's usually got the luxury of subduing someone by sheer advantage of greater strength rather than killing them. But not always. And someone like Zane? He's not sure he could subdue him. Especially not when Zane can use the shield against him, because that's one of Steve's bigger advantages. He doesn't expect Bucky to feel sorry about it, and he won't ask him to. Steve's not unhappy with the way things turned out. Maybe he should be more impartial, but he's only human. He'd go to very, very great lengths for Bucky. He will, he knows it.)

And if he deserves anything, it's the ability to want to give the people he cares about a better life. Anything he can do to make that happen… he'd argue he deserves that chance. That's all.

He laughs a little, though, shrugging the one shoulder again. Becky was good-looking, yeah, and she knew it. She'd probably used it, if she'd had to. But she was a lot more than looks. He'd argue Bucky is, too, because Bucky never did have any trouble in that department, either.]

No? That's good. 'Cause I'd probably have to tie you up to stop you, and you'd grouch about it. Endlessly.

[He'll just ignore the fact that yeah… you'd think Steve would have had enough practice at being stuck in bed to be gracious about it. But he's never been. The instant he felt minutely better, he's always tried to get up, get back to normal, sometimes with very poor consequences. And yet, the next time… he just gets right up and tries again.

Although that genuine expression, a minute later, means more than he can say.]

So am I. [Because if Bucky had had to be here alone, feeling guilty and not knowing what had happened to Steve - well. He feels guilty, and he's pissed about what did happen. But this has still got to be better than the alternative. It's better than the alternative of Steve being here alone, mired in his own thoughts, or trying to ignore them and throwing himself into his work. He's still doing a little bit of both, but getting Bucky back, here, helps to remind him just what he's fighting for, what he wants - needs - to do back home. It's not a solution, but it's not a problem.] I seriously never expected to see you - here.

[Not again, because that's not true. Not after what's just happened back home. But he can't say that, so he doesn't.] I missed this. [Not living alone - not being alone. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like, in just two years.] Even with your occasional bitching.

[But he doesn't mean that. Bitch away, Bucky. Someone's got to keep him honest.]

Just paying you back for all that whining you did back when you got the flu. [Which isn't super fun to joke about sometimes, because Bucky can still remember being terrified of falling asleep, in case he woke up to find Steve cold and quiet and lifeless under the blanket.

Thank God for Dr. Erskine.

And he did have to live through that - being without Steve and knowing about what happened - for a little while, and it was horrible. It'd only been about a month between him dying and Steve showing up here, and it's probably embarrassing how badly he'd missed having him around. Bucky had missed him during basic and when he'd shipped out, too, but that had been kind of different. As much as he'd thought he was going to die in Italy, and in the factory, that had still felt different. At least Steve had been home and more or less safe, and he wouldn't blame himself for Bucky getting killed.

(Well, Steve probably would have found a way to feel guilty anyway, but Bucky'd like to think it'd be less crazy than it was now.)

This is different. Bucky had died watching Steve's back, and he'd known how badly his friend would be taking it, and it made the rest of it - dying, being dead, dealing with being out of alignment with everyone else when it came to things like technology and pop culture and everything else - harder than it needed to be.]

Yeah, well, you're lucky you've got someone who'll put up with your bullshit. [And would call you on it. Endlessly. That's his job.

Bucky reaches over to pat Steve's shoulder gently, affectionate, trying to solidify that yeah, he's here and real and all that.]

Missed you, too.

[Again, for the whole month he was here by himself.

It was a long month.]

I did not whine. [He's smiling, though it's a little softer than that shit-eating grin, because maybe he didn't whine, exactly, but there were times he felt awful and was sick of feeling awful and he hadn't been the best company. And yet Bucky had put up with it, and Steve knows it. Bucky'd put up with anything from him. He knows that, too. He just hopes Bucky knows it goes both ways.

And he is, quite honestly, even glad to have Bucky around to call him on his bullshit. He'd do a hell of a lot, put up with a hell of a lot, just to have Bucky around. Anything, pretty much, seems like a fair trade-off at this point, because it's never, ever gotten easier not to have him around.

And he truly can't imagine what it was like for Bucky, for even that single month. He's just sorry it was a whole month. But he's also glad it wasn't longer.

Besides, he knows a month can feel like a very, very long time.

Just like that hand on his shoulder, and everything it means, feels so very, very good. He doesn't know if he'll ever really, truly get this back. It's what he wants, but he doesn't have the answers, he doesn't know what HYDRA's done, how much of it can be fixed.

So he's just got to try to enjoy this now, while he can, and let it be part of the reason he'll never, ever give up chasing Bucky down back home.]

Well, if you're gonna keep putting up with my bullshit, then you can put up with me saying you should go back to sleep, too. You still need, it, buddy.

And I'm not sleeping until you do.

[If Steve looks like he knows he's using Bucky's protectiveness against him... well. He does. And he is.]

[Bucky chuckles and then groans a little, because yeah, right, not a good idea. But he's still grinning, and shoves at Steve a little. It's as playful as it usually is, but the angle and the fact that he still feels like crap kind of bleed together to mean he's not exactly putting the force behind it he usually would.]

Alright, alright. [Steve's definitely using his weakness against him, and for the time being... he doesn't mind.

God knows he probably does need sleep, even more than he usually does.] I can take a hint.

[So he takes his hand back and does his best to get comfortable, even if he needs to keep his breathing shallow and slow to avoid feeling like he's getting stabbed in the lungs. He's still resting on his uninjured side, and gropes around for a moment until his fingers close on a blanket that he promptly tosses at Steve. A second one gets sort of haphazardly draped over his legs, but he doesn't move to pull it up any higher.

Apparently satisfied, he closes his eyes and lets out a slow breath.]

Night Steve.

[Steve just rolls his eyes - even if there had been more force behind that shove, it wouldn't have done much, and every once in a while, he likes to be a little punk and prove that he can take his licks a lot better now, even if Bucky had never, ever shoved him in anything but jest.]

Might be the first time, [Steve says, smiling a little smugly, partly to be all the more annoying, but partly because he's actually glad Bucky's seen his point. He lets Bucky get comfortable (or as comfortable as he can, with busted ribs) and snorts a little when the blanket he assumed was going over Bucky comes flying his way - he shouldn't have been surprised. He settles down with extreme care next to his best friend; Steve's never tended to toss and turn, but now it's all the more important to make sure he's not going to smack or kick Bucky in his sleep. And Bucky's left him more than enough room; Steve eyes the other side of the bed, but there's enough room for Bucky, too, so he doesn't say anything. It's not both of them trying to squeeze onto a twin, anymore, which is good because that really, really doesn't work anymore.]

Night, Buck.

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fourteen ✪ voice

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