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 | [Spam for Steve] [Becky's dead, and this is the most comfortable she's been in years. Admittedly, after sleeping in uncomfortable military issue beds and in dirt holes and even a cell in a HYDRA facility, anything's comfortable. But this is comfortable and familiar in a way she'd worried she'd never have again, especially not here, and who's she to turn that down? Curling up on couch cushions and under blankets on the floor of Steve's apartment makes her feel like a kid again, and it's definitely hard to pick wandering back to her room over this. Even if tonight - or this morning, whichever - Steve starts tossing and turning in his sleep, and between being a light sleeper and only being a couple inches away from him, there's really only so long she's going to be able to avoid noticing that. At first, she's barely even aware of what woke her up, or that she's awake at all, but then the blanket she'd been huddled under gets all but yanked away, and I mean come on, she was using that.] Stop stealing the blanket, Stevie, [She grumbles, voice more than a little slurred as she grabs feebly for the blanket. She winds rolling over on her side to face him in the process, fails to do much more than flail at the confiscated bed covering and gives up. She's already almost back to sleep when Steve jerks more violently and lets out a distinctly unhappy noise, and a lifetime spent worrying over her friend dying in his sleep gets her up and alert almost immediately. It's not the first time she's seen him having a nightmare - and he's woken her from a fair share of her own, too - but that doesn't stop her from worrying and hating that this is something he has to deal with now. Becky sits up, hair mussed and spilling from the braid she usually keeps it back in these days, and carefully nudges at his shoulder. When that doesn't work, she shakes him a little, trying to be gentle so he doesn't wake up thinking he's under attack or in danger.] Hey, hey Steve, wake up. Wake up, you're okay. You're okay. [She smooths a hand over his forehead and runs her fingers through his hair. It's a gesture she's probably only half consciously aware of learning from watching his mother do it when they were small and Steve was sick, and it's a motion she's had to preform too many times over the years, for Steve and for other young guys who didn't deserve to have this kind of burden put on their shoulders.] You're okay. [In her concern for Steve, she doesn't notice that she's wearing clothes that don't fit and a different set of dog tags, but considering the dark green wool sweater and fatigue pants are clearly meant for someone a couple inches taller and a couple pounds heavier, it'll probably be apparent soon enough. And, you know, Steve will recognize them as what Bucky fell asleep in last night.] |
 | [Public Video] [The video feed clicks on to show yet another quasi unfamiliar face, who's apparently made herself at home in Steve's room and might have raided his closet because even if the clothes still don't fit her at all, the t-shirt, plaid button down and sweatpants she's requisitioned for herself are a hell of a lot more comfortable than the army issue stuff she'd woken up in.] Alright, I couldn't really give less of a shit of who you guys think I should be right now, because even if this is a flood, I still know who I am and what I'm doing here, so the lectures on how stuff's gonna be different in a couple days can wait. For anyone who's behind, I'm Becky Barnes, and there're a couple other things I wanna cover first. One, I really need some clothes. I don't care what they look like so long as they fit. [Well, okay, she cares a little, but she kind of doesn't want to just wander around on board in clothes she's practically swimming in.] Two, if anyone gets into any dumbass fist fights because they don't know how to deal with their new hormones, head up to the infirmary or give me a call. I'm a nurse, and I've been patching guys up after fist fights since I was a kid. And three, [This gets a very familiar smirk out of her, because, well. She is technically Bucky.] Once I get some decent clothes, I'm heading up to the CES for some target practice. James, you in? Or are you still sore after the last time I kicked your ass? Helena, you wanna check in? |
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