imfollowinghim | eighteen ✪ voice & spam

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eighteen ✪ voice & spam

[Hello, Barge. Did you think you were done with coma announcements today?

You were wrong.]

Helena's in a coma. [Which explains why she wasn't at Basic this morning, at least. Bucky had checked on her right after and found her sleeping in her room, so now here we are.]

I'm not bringing her to the infirmary, but I'll keep an eye on her until she wakes up.

[He lets out a tired sigh, and though you can't see it, he's definitely running his hands through his hair, digging his fingernails into his scalp.]

Are we missing anyone else?

[Open Spam]

[This has not been a good week.

Of course, it's not really the worst week he's ever had, so he sort of feels stupid for being irritated by it. This could be worse. This could be a lot worse, but it's still hard to get excited about yelling at people in the pouring rain in the CES while they run up and down a hill at five in the morning when you've gotten maybe an hour or two of sleep the night before, especially when you know you don't have to.

He's not at war anymore. He knows that.

But his nightmares are getting worse, not better. Instead of the familiar blend of memories and horrible possibilities, he wakes up feeling terrified beyond belief, and with no memory as to why. It's bad enough some nights that he spends the rest of it awake and miserable in his own room so he's not keeping Steve up (even though he knows his friend probably isn't sleeping), and sometimes, he's been in the CES running for hours before his "recruits" are up and out of bed.

And he feels cold all the time, even huddled in his Commandos jacket and one of the flannel shirts Stiles got him, plus a t-shirt, no matter where he is on the Barge.

Maybe he's just getting sick.

Whatever's happening, he does his best to just ignore it. If he focuses on the task at hand, he can get through this the way he's gotten through everything, even though on Monday, he calls Lydia Oswalt (a kid who'd been killed by shrapnel not ten minutes after they'd gotten off the landing craft in Anzio) when he's yelling at her to keep up, and then he can't remember the name of a movie he's seen sixteen times on Tuesday, and he has an entire conversation with Mason before realizing wait, he's not Dernier.

They're caught out in a thunderstorm during Basic on Wednesday, and when lightning strikes a little too close to where they are, for a good ten seconds, he's back in Italy, because that's not lightning, it's a shell, and if they don't take cover, they're all getting blown to hell.

Bucky realizes where he is and who he's with moments later, and it leaves him shaky and uncomfortable, so the session gets cut short, and he hauls himself back to Steve's room to borrow his shower, since the water actually stays one temperature.

He's distant and strange for most of the rest of the day, and while he doesn't try to avoid anyone who was there this morning, he doesn't make an effort to seek them out, either.]

[ooc: Bucky's door to the bridge related symptoms are starting to rear their head more noticeably. Right now, he's mostly having night terrors and suffering from general confusion, which means he's often starting to look like he's having something similar to a bad PTSD flashback or just suffering from memory loss, so consider this a blanket warning for something that might come up in his threads. Feel free to encounter him whenever, whenever, and old/new cr, multiples and fuzzy time are all appreciated. c:]

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[Bucky does wind up taking a while in the shower, because he's replaying the morning over and over in his head, too. It had felt so real in those couple seconds, and he's been startled badly before by loud noises, or people touching him without warning - it had happened during the war, too, he'd almost broken Gabe's hand once when he'd tried to shake him awake after a particularly bad nightmare - but it still hadn't felt quite like that. Like for a second, he really was back in Italy.

By the time he steps out of the shower, his fingers are pruney and the bathroom mirror is all steamed up. He starts toweling himself off and almost absently wipes the steam away, glancing at his reflection quickly, and standing behind him there's-

Bucky whips around to look behind him, eyes wide and blood running cold for a second, because he could've sworn-

No. He didn't see anything. Just his face, and when he looks back, that's all he sees again. No one standing behind him. No Zola. He's on the Barge, in Steve's apartment, and he's safe.

(What's happening to him?)

He tosses his soaked uniform into the hamper and changes into the shirt and shorts, once again thrown off by how soft they are. Which isn't bad, but it's just kind of different, half remembered, and he does appreciate it.

Steve gets another smile when he comes back out of the bathroom and retrieves his sandwich before sitting down heavily on the couch, which still feels too soft sometimes, but he's getting used to it. He takes a bite before saying anything, and then might try talking with his mouth full a little.

At least he's holding his hand over his mouth in some semblance of politeness?] All yours. I'll save you a couple sandwiches.

[It's teasing, trying to reassure him that it's okay to look after himself instead of watching Bucky to make sure he's eating or taking it easy. Not that Steve will necessarily listen because he sucks at taking care of himself, but he still probably wants to get changed into dry clothes, at least.]

[Steve's not an expert. But he knows Bucky. And he knows that when that lightning hit… Bucky wasn't just surprised. He wasn't just caught up in an Army mentality because he was leading Basic. It was something else.

And that really, truly scares him. Because he doesn't want to feel like he's losing Bucky here, too - he's lost him, back home, and scrambling to get him back. There is no deeper hurt than that, and the idea that something similar, or at least similarly terrible, could be happening here is nothing short of terrifying.

But he also knows he could be overthinking it.

Either way, he knows more about "shellshock" - and what it really is - than he used to, and no, he doesn't know how to fix it, but he does know that it's fixable. That's a little glimmer of hope, if nothing else, but the problem is, he doesn't want to go behind Bucky's back and ask someone to help him, either. That feels sneaky. He doesn't want to sneak around - and he really doesn't want to sneak around his best friend. He's already doing enough of that, by keeping his mouth shut about things Bucky doesn't - can't - know. Not until they really need to make a decision about their deals.

It's probably a good thing that Bucky ends up in the shower for a while - Steve ends up staring into space for a while, until the sound (or lack thereof) of the water shutting off breaks him out of it. So by the time Bucky's coming out of the bathroom, Steve's got the iPod hooked into the stereo and turned on low - it's not music Bucky will recognize, it's a mix of 60s and 70s that he's trying to work through - and is working on the tail end of a sandwich.

(Of course, if Bucky remembers how many sandwiches there were when he went in, he'll immediately know that Steve's still working on the same one.)

At least Bucky looks a little better - and he grabs his sandwich with a little more enthusiasm, this time. He even attempts to be "polite," which makes Steve laugh as he pushes himself out of the desk chair. He does want to get out of the wet uniform, and his hair's drying into a bit of a mess.]

Gee, thanks. [He just waves his hand a little.] I can always get more. They're not nearly as stingy here as they could be. They don't even give me dirty looks. [Like those Army cooks used to, when he'd show up for the fifth time in the same day.

He tries to grin, and it doesn't even fall all that flat.]

I'll be right back.

[He wants to spend forever in the shower, but he won't. Just long enough to rinse off. He snags something that's pretty similar to what Bucky's wearing - he's not actually planning on going anywhere, for a while. If Bucky sleeps, Steve might try to catch a nap, too. Otherwise, they'll find something to do. He'd say they should plan tomorrow's Basic schedule, but he's not sure that's a great idea. Maybe Bucky should take a mental break from that.

Either way, he'll be out in about ten minutes.]

[Bucky tries to just zone out while Steve's in the shower, focusing on the sandwich and the music and the comfortable couch instead of the messy tangle of emotions and bad memories. It's hard, because he's tired and confused and maybe a little scared, because he doesn't really get what happened. Or what's happening.

Steve's worried, too. Bucky can tell even if he hasn't said anything about it directly, because Steve knows how little he's sleeping and just knows him better than anyone. He knows what's normal behavior and what's not, and he knows what happened to him during the war, and it bothers Bucky to see it doesn't really look like Steve's appetite is as crazy as it usually is, like maybe he's too distracted or worried to eat. Or he's just not hungry, which he thinks is way, way more unlikely. He knows Steve just as well as Steve knows him, and so those ten minutes stretch on awkwardly while he tries to eat and calm down enough to make things worse.

He's done with his sandwich by the time Steve comes back out and he smiles again, trying to make this as close to normal as possible.]

What song is this? [Mason's been trying to update him on stuff he's missed out on, but he doesn't recognize this at all. He could always get up and check out the iPod, but that requires moving, and he's pretty sure that's not in the cards right now.

Or for a little while.]

[Steve definitely appreciates the attempt to make things normal, too - they're both floundering a little, albeit for different reasons. Or, really, for the same underlying reason, but neither of them knows how to handle it.

At least he feels better, when he's dry - more human, and that always helps. It's that much harder to deal with anything when you feel like you've been dragged through the mud - literally.]

Hm? Oh - [He actually grins a little, because some of the songs on his iPod, he doesn't even know. They're on there so he can learn them. But this one, he knows without looking.] It's called "Trouble Man." My buddy Sam said it was one I shouldn't miss.

[He makes his way over to the couch, grabbing another sandwich - although honestly, it's more reflex than out of actual hunger. He is sort of too off-balance right now to really care about being hungry, but he also knows he needs to eat more than a single sandwich.] 1972 - although I'm still not sure how I feel about the 70s in general, yet.

[Bucky scootches over a little and swings his legs off of the couch so Steve can sit down next to him instead of on him, and nods briefly at the explanation. Part of him wants to ask why, because he's been doing a lot of reading trying to catch up on what happened, but most of it's been World War II related stuff. Books about the Holocaust, about Okinawa and the atomic bomb, even stuff about things he was around for, and knew about before he'd died. He wants to understand it outside of his own experiences, see the bigger picture, and maybe find out where things are different for people who come from a world where there wasn't a third party involved between the Allies and the Axis.

But Steve mentioning Sam grabs his attention a little harder, because he's actually gotten to meet him now, sort of. Which had been nice. Steve's mentioned him a couple times, so it'd been nice to have a chance to talk more or less face to face.]

I talked to him a little, when the network freaked out. He told me about his wings. [Which had sounded super cool, even if apparently it's kind of busted right about now.]

Seemed like a good guy.

[It's good to know Steve's got someone watching his back if Bucky can't be there to do it himself.]

It's nice.

[The song, he means. Different, but nice, which is how he's felt about a lot of the music he's been introduced to since showing up here.]

[It's more the fashion - and sometimes the music - that Steve's not so sure about, although some of the politics of the time were a mess, too. Every decade had its messes, though, from what he can tell. It's not a new, thing, either. It's just life.

He's looked up the war, too - done plenty of reading on it, back home, but a part of him always shied away from digging too deep. Maybe it just reminded him of what he'd lost. Of what everyone had lost, along the way.

Although he perks up no, a little, when Bucky mentions Sam right back.] Oh yeah? They were really something. I kinda wish I'd gotten a chance to try them.

[He grins - hey, it looked pretty fun. Who doesn't want to fly?]

He is - a really good guy. He's doing some good stuff, at the VA. [His grin goes a little softer.] Stuff not a lot of people are good at.

[Definitely not Steve. And he knows it. It's part of the reason he knows he needs Sam to do what he's going to do, even though he still believes it's his responsibility, and no one else's.

But he tries to shake that out of his head, because it's a tired track of thoughts, and honestly, it's starting to make him feel a little exhausted.]

Yeah - it is. Different beat, but... [A shrug, and a half-grin.] I hear swing made a comeback, in the 90s, but I'm a little afraid to hear what they did to it. [Maybe nothing? He's not sure.]

You would. [Bucky knows probably better than anyone your enthusiasm for pushing the limits, especially now that the limits are so much higher, so he's really not shocked at all that Steve's intrigued by the idea of flying. Hell, even he's a little tempted by the prospect.

Part of him wants to ask a little more about Sam, or maybe wants to tell him straight out that he's glad he's got friends, that it's a good thing he's got good people watching his back, but he doesn't. It'll lead down a path of feeling shitty about getting killed, about not being there for Steve when he needs it, and he's tired of it, too.

Tired in general, really, but especially tired of going in circles about that.

So he just listens, and grins back, and then elbows Steve gently, because don't be a sissy, Rogers.]

The future doesn't seem so bad. Not like we were always full of rainbows and sunshine back before stuff got really bad, right?

[The grin holds for a couple seconds after and then fades a little, replaced by a look of casual concern. Bucky might look hollow eyed and tired, but he can still turn this around and make sure his friend's not barely holding it together too. Assuming Steve tells anything close to the truth, anyway.]

You doing okay?

[Steve just gives him a grin that says nope, not a chance in hell can he deny wanting to try those things. He's jumped out of planes, but he's never flown - not like that.

And maybe they're both being a little careful, but it's not an easy subject to discuss, under any circumstances - and there's so much Bucky doesn't know, can't know until later, so much later, that it's hard for Steve to talk about things without feeling guilty.

Although, who's he kidding, he feels guilty all the time for keeping something so important from Bucky. But he just... he can't do that to him, tell him what happens, when neither of them can fix it. He's a little afraid that knowledge would change Bucky, and Steve misses him badly enough, wants to protect him badly enough, that he just can't do it. Even if it feels cowardly and selfish at the same time. He just hopes someday, Bucky will forgive him for it.

So he gives his best friend a lopsided grin - and a snort.] Hell, no. I mean, we had different things going on. The future's not rainbows and sunshine, either. In most ways, people are still people. It's... not bad, no. [Not always easy. But not always hard, either - in some senses.

Bucky's not there, though. That's never been easy.

Steve glances over at the question, though. He's not entirely sure what Bucky's asking about, specifically, but that means he can choose which suspicion he wants to answer.]

In the future? Yeah -

[He's not sure that's what Bucky means, but it's the easier option to talk about, just at the moment.] I'm okay. [He holds out his arms a little, for a second.] The serum still works, I'm still doing some good...

[Or so he'd thought. That's not really an avenue he wants to go down, either.] I'm okay. Not nearly enough free time to get into too much trouble, [he finishes, trying for his normal, easy, lopsided smile; even if he gets into plenty of trouble, for work.

Well. Got. SHIELD's a little... disbanded, at the moment. Although it sounds like maybe, maybe not for long.]

[Bucky listens, and it's good to hear, really. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't at least a little concerned that his friend was too busy running himself into the ground to get anything accomplished, even if he really only seems to talk about the future in reference to, you know. SHIELD. Work. Nothing else.

Not that he's really surprised about that, honestly. If things were different, he'd probably have felt the same way. Work's the only thing that really makes sense to him anymore.

But he still pushes, smirking with vague frustration, because that's not what he meant, buddy.]

I meant now, Steve.

[As in on the Barge, dealing with all of this. He's starting to feel like he's wearing his friend out.]

You look like shit. [Which is sort of a pot, kettle moment here, because Bucky looks pretty worn out, too.]

Not that I'm not happy for you, but... [He trails off, intending to leave it there, before realizing something Steve mentioned offhandedly might be worth revisiting.

So have a concerned look leveled your way.]

Were you worried the serum would stop working?

[Yeah, so he knew he wasn't picking the right question to answer, and he also knew Bucky was going to call him on it. Still, you can't fault a guy for trying.]

Gosh, you sure know how to stroke a guy's ego. [Definitely pot and kettle and all that, and the look he's leveling at you now should say that much, pal.

But he shrugs, because all he's really got to say to that is,] Did you ever sleep much when I wasn't feeling my best?

[He knows the answer is no. So how can you expect him to be one hundred percent when you aren't, either?

Even if he knows that if he looks bad... it's because he feels a hundred times worse. But it's mostly just exhaustion and worry. Two things he's shouldered for a long time, and he can keep right on shouldering them. He plans to.]

But don't you dare go feeling bad about it, stupid, because it's my choice. [His choice to worry about you, and he's going to, no matter what.

He blinks at the question - and realizes how what he'd said sounded, ends up shaking his head a little.] No - not really. I mean... [He gives this small, wry smile; yeah, actually, for a while, at first, he did worry something would go wrong. Can you blame him?

But not anymore.

The fact that he mostly - finally - sees the person staring back at him in the mirror as himself helps, though. When you spend twenty-five years in one body, it's hard to get used to another, even when it's actually the same one. It really didn't feel that way, at first, and even four years feels like barely enough time to acclimate.]

I just meant, I'm fine - because come on, you'd still worry about me getting the flu if you could convince yourself it'd happen. [Mom.]

And I still have the same responsibility I ever had. [The day Erskine gave him this gift - because that's still what he considers it, in a lot of ways - was the day he knew he'd have to use it for the rest of his life, to do everything he'd always wanted to do. To protect the people who didn't have the strength to do it themselves.

It's at least part of the reason why he works all the time.]

[Bucky shrugs at the comment, unrepentant. Of course he didn't sleep well while Steve was sick, and Steve had given him shit for it then just like Bucky's giving Steve shit for it now, especially because whatever he's got, it's not friggin' typhoid or whatever horrible illness Steve managed to contract this month.

Or whatever normal illness his immune system just couldn't handle, and Bucky's so unbelievably grateful that helpless anger he used to feel in the face of Steve's near constant illness growing up is something he'd never going to have to deal with again. What Steve's had because of the serum he's deserved his whole life, not that anyone really deserves being basically crippled by their immune system, or anything else.

So the answer does settle him down a little, smooths over the temporary worry like it never even happened - the serum's still working, Steve's not going to suddenly shrink right back down outside of some flood.

And he still has the same responsibility he ever has.

Bucky chuckles, somewhere between affectionate and disbelieving.]

You're unreal, Steve Rogers.

[Exactly. So if you weren't sorry for it then, Steve's not sorry for it now. And they're even. It's just what they do, and it's not going to change - regardless of the circumstances. Maybe Bucky's not sick, physically, but there's still something wrong and like hell is Steve just going to ignore it. Or not keep an eye on him.

But he knows that Bucky's not the only one he's got a responsibility toward. Especially not here. Even if Bucky maybe takes precedence, because frankly, Bucky's the reason he's here.

Of course, Steve just grins a little - and rolls his eyes, settling back a little more comfortably on the couch.] Oh come on. You're just as bad, you know.

[He's okay if things don't get serious, here, but he still means it. Bucky looks out for him, and he's looking out for a lot of people on this Barge, because that's just what Bucky does. Who he is. And Steve doesn't expect that to change, either - wouldn't ask him to. Although he could maybe use a break, given everything.

But Steve knows better than to outright suggest it.]

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eighteen ✪ voice & spam

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