imfollowinghim | twelve ✪ spam & video

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twelve ✪ spam & video

[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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Right. [Okay, well that answers... maybe not his next question, but a question. Honestly, he's not sure what to ask - or if he should ask anything, because she's starting to look a little uncomfortable (and he's pretty good at telling when women look uncomfortable, they tended to do it a lot around him).] Sorry. That's... this probably isn't what you were expecting when you woke up, either. [Because it's sure as hell not what he was expecting, but he can at least appreciate that this goes both ways. And if this is going to last a couple of days... then he'd better get used to it. Or... try.

He does notice when she starts buttoning up the sweater, and yeah, he hasn't ever had a sister so he'll just... not look for a second. That seems safest. Bucky's going to laugh so hard at him when he... gets back? Turns back? Something like that. He's starting to think of this less as Bucky just turning into a girl, and more of Bucky having been... replaced by someone with the same personality, but who's a girl and has obviously led a different life. That's definitely weirder, though.

But clothes. Right.] Oh - uh. No, I definitely don't. [A little laugh.] But, I mean, there are other women on the Barge. I'm sure someone can lend you something. [He's wondering if it's just Bucky that's affected, or if it's more widespread than that.] Do you... [He's about to ask if she wants to get breakfast, since they're up (although he has no idea what time it is, but that generally doesn't seem to matter) but without much to wear, that's probably not ideal.] I mean, I can grab us something to eat. [He's not trying to run away - he's not - but he needs just a second to process this and maybe she does too?

Besides, he's still trying to shake the last vestiges of that nightmare, and some memories, too.]

[Honestly? She's a little torn, and it's kind of a good thing the clothes make staying here the better option, because she might be okay with Steve seeing her wander around in what basically amounts to pajamas, but other people on the Barge? No thank you. She does have some kind of image to keep up, and wandering around looking like her clothes were eating her or about to fall off don't really fit with the put together attractive dame thing she's got going.

But she always wants to get breakfast with Steve - and she is hungry, which isn't a surprise, either - because for a while, she'd been pretty sure she wasn't doing anything with Steve ever again. Except Steve doesn't really know her, and obviously he kind of wants some space, so. Maybe it's for the best.]

Sure. You can quiz me if you want, when you get back.

[Maybe that'll help make this a little easier. God knows she's got some questions she'd kind of like to ask him.

She smiles, trying to get back to being reassuring. See, things are fine, she's not uncomfortable. You shouldn't be, either.]

Try and smuggle me out some pancakes? [There's one thing that hasn't changed, at least.] I'll put the couch back together.

[And take some time to get her head on a little straighter, because this is only as awkward as they make it out to be.

And she's maybe going to raid your closet anyway.]

[He just needs a little space, just to figure this out, because waking up to discover your best friend's suddenly a girl is confusing, no matter how good you are at taking what life deals you and rolling with it. He's pretty sure that by the time he gets to the mess and back... well, he's not sure he'll be one hundred percent onboard, but he'll at least have processed this enough that he won't be weird, and hopefully that will stop making her uncomfortable, because he definitely doesn't want that.

And he does, admittedly, look a little interested when she doesn't seem to mind if he quizzes her a little bit.] Yeah? [He grins a bit, tentatively, but it's genuine.] That might be good. I think... I'm not sure what to think. I think you're still my best friend, but that means I need to catch up on some things, doesn't it? [And he absolutely means that, too.

Especially when she asks for pancakes. Between that and the baseball thing... yeah. She's definitely his best friend. Just in a different package. And suddenly he kind of wonders if this isn't just a little bit how Bucky felt when Steve broke him out of that HYDRA factory. It's not exactly the same, no. But is it really so different? Same person. Different wrapping.

It actually helps - a lot - to think about it that way. He probably even looks a little more relaxed already, nodding with a grin that's a little bigger now.] You bet. If I can't get pancakes out of there, no one can. [Because come on, could they catch him if he made a break for it? Probably not. Besides, it's not illegal to eat around here.

He doesn't mind so much going out in a t-shirt and sweatpants, since that's what he works out in most of the time. He'll just fish his shoes out of the closet, and get on his way - and he doesn't think twice about giving her the run of his room, because if she really is Bucky, or his female equivalent, then even if it's a little different, everything he has is hers.

Although when he comes back about ten or fifteen minutes later with breakfast - again, as much as he can carry, including pancakes, bacon, sausage, eggs, and coffee - he's going to knock before he comes in. You know. Just in case... something?] Room service.

[It does actually help a lot to set her more at ease, and so the smile's a little more genuine and familiar, if a tiny bit softer than Bucky's usual grin.] Thanks, pal.

[She's still his best friend. They'll figure it out.

In the time it takes Steve to retrieve breakfast, Becky's made good on her promise to put the couch back together - the cushions are back in place, the bed's been remade, and the blankets have been folded up and put back in the drawer. She'd do some other tidying up too, if it had been necessary, which isn't not. Steve's room is kind of too Spartan to have clutter, and he's not exactly a slob by any stretch of the imagination, but she kind of wishes there was something to do, just so she could keep herself busy while she waits.

(Which is hilarious, because she'd spent a lot of time making it clear to guys that just because she's a girl, she's not gonna be their maid.)

Instead, she winds up raiding his closet, swapping out Bucky's combat uniform pants and scratchy wool sweater and badly mended socks for sweatpants, a t-shirt, socks and a flannel button down. They're still way too big for her, but the drawstring keeps the pants from falling around her ankles and this is a hell of a lot more comfortable than sitting around in crappy army issue gear. Bucky's clothes get folded up and tossed in the laundry basket, but she keeps the dog tags, even if they're not really hers.

So she's dressed when she answers the door, and doesn't bother apologizing or even smiling sheepishly when she sees what he's requisitioned for them in favor of just looking vaguely impressed and holding the door open for him so he doesn't drop anything.]

You save some for the rest of the ship, Steve? [Not that she is actively complaining. At all. Ever.]

[He's honestly not sure if she eats as much as Bucky does or not - if so, they're set, if not, it's not like Steve can't finish it off. There might be an apple or two for later, balanced on the very top - hey, if you're going to have peak human dexterity, reflexes, and balance, why not put them to good use?] Was I supposed to?

[He sounds totally innocent, because it's not like they won't make more (and he didn't take it all); he's not quite looking at her as he slips inside to set everything down on the desk - his cabin doesn't include his kitchen, but that's okay, because it doesn't need to. Not like he's much of a cook, anyway, and they usually eat in the mess, but the desk can always pull double duty as a table when it needs to.

When he does finally get a good look at her, he sort of pauses and blinks - oh, well, okay. It's a little weird seeing her wearing his clothes, but not in a bad way. He doesn't mind. It's just... a little strange, for a second - and maybe a little funny, because he remembers swimming in other people's clothes (and sometimes his own) almost as much, not so long ago.] More comfortable? [he asks - because okay, honestly, he's wondering if Bucky really needs to wear the Army-issue stuff all the time. He gets keeping the room, and maybe wearing the uniform does make this seem less like a vacation, too. But he's still convinced Bucky wouldn't die or suddenly get lazy if he had something more comfortable to sleep in.

Maybe Becky can explain that one, who knows.

First, though he gets to work dividing everything up and pointing at the desk chair for her; he can eat perched on the side of the desk, that's kind of what he does half the time at home, anyway.] Dig in. And we can try and figure this... thing out. I mean - whatever there is to figure out. [Because she thinks this is normal, and he doesn't, and... he figures maybe they can meet in the middle.] So you've... always been here? Like that? I mean, that's how you remember it. [That obviously being as a girl, very articulate.]

[Becky smiles, and again, there's no shame or embarrassment for being called out on it. She's not a complete shrimp compared to Steve, but she's definitely shorter and less filled out, so she probably does look ridiculous. But at least she's comfortable and ridiculous.]

Sorry. I'll wash 'em for you once I've got something else to wear. [She might end up doing everything in his laundry basket to save water (hard to shake those habits, even if there's no water bill to worry about here) and as a favor. There's still something in her that feels a little guilty about how this is all playing out, or at least still feels uncomfortable.

Once Steve gives the signal, she slides into the desk chair to dig into breakfast. She's maybe a little better at not just ripping into food like she's never going to see it again than Bucky is, but that's more for appearances sake than anything else, and while she almost immediately surveys Steve's plate to make sure he's got just as much food as she's given her, it's pretty clear that her appetite hasn't changed, either.

And Steve's question gets a quiet snort of laughter out of her, and she shrugs, finishing a mouthful of eggs and washing it down with some coffee before answering.]

That's how I remember it, yeah. I was here for about a month, and then you showed up. I'm partnered up with Helena, my room's on the first floor, and a couple weeks ago, we were stuck in some crazy cave with a bunch of cannibal mole people. [Which had sucked, and the less time spent revisiting that, the better. It's probably why things have been kind of rougher on her lately, because she'd like to think if she hadn't been hearing Zola's voice in the caves, she might not have freaked out at Helena the way she did.

Anyway, she pushes that away and gives him an expectant grin. If she's worried about his reaction to her answers (a tiny part of her is) she doesn't show it.]

How am I doing so far?

[It might be a little funny, but he doesn't really care. Maybe didn't expect it, but maybe he shouldn't be surprised, either. Although when she offers to wash them, he just laughs and shakes his head.] Nah, it's fine. [Although if she ends up doing his laundry, he probably won't complain? She doesn't need to, though. Not for borrowing things, and not for any of this.

And they've got an exactly equal amount of food - other than the fact that there are two more pancakes on her plate than his, because she requested them, so that's just how it goes. He'll finish them if she won't - but he can't say he's distressed to see her digging in, either. Again, that's strangely comforting, just like a lot of things about her.

And okay, the memories from the Barge are all the same. That's a good start, right?] Sounds right to me, [he confirms, working on the eggs and meat first. Pancakes get saved for last.] I guess the difference is going to be, uh, back home. In the past. Because it sounds like most of that stuff is the same [like the people she's popped in the nose on his behalf] but I know some of it's got to be different, somewhere along the line. [He cocks a lopsided grin.] Because no, Bucky's not a nurse. [Wasn't? It's both frightening and comforting that his first inclination wasn't to use the past tense.]

[She snorts, because, well, yeah.]

It's probably a lot different. No one's telling him he can't do shit.

[And she realizes that probably sounds way more bitter than it should, especially if he's not really sure what to expect from her. She tries to smile, maybe a little apologetically, and then goes back to finishing off the rest of the eggs before adding anything else. No one likes cold eggs.

God, this is so unfair. She's not used to feeling like a stranger to her best friend, and she's not exactly pleased to know there's some other version of her out there who's probably had a totally easy life laid out for him.

Well. Easier, anyway.]

I would've enlisted if they'd let me, but the nurse corps sounded better then getting stuck at a desk, so. [She shrugs, still avoiding looking directly at him.] What else?

Not so much, no. [Of course, Steve says it with the tone of someone who's dealt with that his whole life, too - he's smiling a little, wryly. No, no one ever told Bucky he couldn't' do something, unless it was because he didn't have the money or the schooling - which had happened occasionally. But not like they'd told Steve, of course - and maybe not like they'd told Becky.

No, he's not sure what to expect from her; but he's wondering if they don't have more in common than he thought.

His smile grows a little less wry, though, and a little more knowing a moment later.] That, I'd believe. [No version of Bucky, anywhere, would've settled for a desk job.

And he opens his mouth, he's about to ask something else, something innocuous, like wondering maybe whether they still grew up together the same way. What comes out, almost to his surprise is,] What about HYDRA? They never - [He pulls up a little short.] I mean. Bucky was a prisoner of war. [Albeit briefly, but it sort of felt like forever to Steve until he could get to him, and he sometimes wonders if it felt like a lifetime, to Bucky. He's never actually asked. He's not sure he needs to.

But he's suddenly finding himself hoping that never happened to Becky. That she joined the Commandos - because she mentioned that - some other way.]

[It absolutely had felt like a lifetime. Becky has no idea how long she was actually in the isolation ward - it felt like months, years, but she's pretty sure it'd actually been short of a month. But weeks is a long time to be tortured and experimented on, even if she doesn't remember all of it thanks to whatever drugs they'd had her on, or just being unconscious.

So she stops eating, and the look on her face is... distant. Hard to read. Somewhere between bitter humor and actual pain because, well.]

Yeah, that happened to me, too. [And she doesn't want to talk about it. She'd never really talked about it with Steve, or with anyone after the army and the SSR had determined she was still fit for duty after she'd first gotten back and had some time to recover. Even then, she'd lied about a lot of the details - if she'd told the truth, they would have sent her back home, and maybe stuck her in some lab, or an insane asylum or something, just as a precaution.]

They overran the field hospital I was stationed at, a little south of Azzano. We kinda didn't think they'd take us prisoner, but I guess they didn't care. [Which is pretty freaking obvious now. HYDRA doesn't care about countries or treaties or whatever else, because she'd seen them kill Germans, too.

She still hates the Nazis, too, but HYDRA's just as bad.]

You got me out, though. [Which has always kind of been a light at the end of that tunnel, even if she's still a little furious with him for putting himself in harm's way in the first place. Still, it makes it easier to look at him and smile a little again, because it'd helped, to have a friendly face. More than he probably realizes.] And then you snuck into the recovery room they stuck me in to keep me company.

[Honestly? He can't help the way his face falls. He knows how hard that was on Bucky - actually, he knows he doesn't know the half of how hard it was on Bucky. Despite the fact that Bucky won't talk about it, what that really means to Steve is that there's a part of his friend that will always be different because of what happened - and that's not taking into account the Winter Soldier. He can see it in Bucky, here, every once in a while, even though he can also see that Bucky's not willing to talk about it, and trying his best just to keep moving forward. Steve respects that, for as much as he worries, and that's why he doesn't ask. He knows there are things - obviously - that he has to keep from Bucky, too.

Even though he doesn't like it.

So he doesn't like to hear that Becky has been through those same things. And it's out almost before he realizes he's said it:] I'm sorry I didn't get there sooner. [He will always be sorry. Just like he will always be sorry he couldn't look for you - him? - after the fall. Some things, he knows, just can't be absolved.

Although he tries to let that go - for now - when she goes on, a little, which makes his lips twitch up, despite how he's feeling.] I do have this problem, I'm told: I'm a little bit stubborn. [But nothing could have kept him away, not the entire Army, after that.] So I guess even though the reasons are different... a lot of things are the same.

[Maybe he shouldn't be surprised. It's the memories and the actions that make up a man - well. Person. So if Becky is Bucky, then she must have the same life experiences, regardless of the reason. And he smiles a little, needing to lighten the mood, just for a second, asking,] You didn't pull that stunt all the time where you me I looked fine when nothing I was wearing matched, did you? [Look, getting dressed when a lot of colors don't look terribly different is a challenge.]

[Becky looks up in time to catch his sort of crushed looking expression, and immediately puts a hand on his arm, squeezing a little to get his attention and let him know she's not mad, and she sure as hell doesn't blame him at all. It's gentle and familiar, but definitely a little different from the shove Bucky might have handed out at a time like this instead.]

You got me out. That's what's important. [It's true: no, she doesn't want to talk about it, and there are times when she resents that, too. She's never had to keep anything from Steve before, not really, not even when she'd maybe wanted to, but this? This, she doesn't want anyone to know about. She knows she's different, she knows she's been broken in a way she wasn't before, but that doesn't mean she wants to talk about it.

But it's not Steve's fault. Steve saved her when she'd kind of resigned herself to dying there, so that's what she'd rather focus on. What's important. Bucky's said as much, too, although he usually sounds more firm and "we're dropping this subject right now" than gentle and reassuring. It seems like she's got slightly softer edges than Bucky in certain respects, which probably has a lot to do with expectations and gender roles and everything, however much she'd rubbed up against those kind of the wrong way.

But then she grins with the same sort of cocky, unapologetic look on her face that makes it pretty clear that things aren't that different.]

Maybe a couple times, after you were being an ass about something. [Look, she's not mean enough to do anything really awful, and she's always been quick to forgive him anyway, but if you're really going to pretend like your nose isn't broken and you definitely don't need her help getting up the stairs, your shirt isn't gonna match your tie. Fair trade. Think about it next time before you do something stupid, alright?] I'd help pick out your clothes before you went out on dates, though. I'm not a monster.

[Bucky has said the same thing, for the most part. Steve can even admit it's what he would say. He still feels like it isn't enough - can't ever be enough. But here and now isn't the time to dwell on it. If Bucky clamming up about it and moving on forcibly was ever good for anything, it was the fact that Steve had something else to focus on than just his guilt. At least, until he had a minute to himself.

Still, the touch might not be the shove he'd expect from Bucky, but it feels the same, essentially, and it means the same, too.

So does that smile of hers a minute later, making him laugh.] I never said you were a monster. Though I can't imagine any of those dates went any better without you - him - to steal all the attention. [He doesn't sound like he minds - because he doesn't, really. It's just the way things were.

And it sounds like the way things were with Bucky... well, they're close enough to the way things were with Becky.] You two really are the same person. I mean - you know. Underneath. [Obviously not on the surface. Obviously.] Which means you really do have a lot of dirty laundry on me... and half the stuff I have on you probably doesn't count. Now I feel outgunned.

If you mean you didn't know how to talk to women who weren't me? Yeah, you were pretty hopeless sometimes, pal. Thank God Peggy didn't seem to mind. [Which she means, probably more than he realizes. Being the only women in an almost exclusively male organization meant Becky and Peggy had found more common ground quicker, and let's just say she definitely approved of that relationship.

It actually hurts a lot to know that they were denied more of their time together. When she'd been here without Steve, it'd been good to think maybe at least someone was around to keep an eye out for him who saw the stubborn little shit who'd kept trying to enlist instead of the fearless leader of men on the newsreels.

Anyway, she chuckles when Steve continues, and raises an eyebrow a little, pretty much just daring him to refuse to take her up on this.]

I can take it easy on you until things get back to normal, if you want. Guess it's not fair to really rub it in like this.

Thank God. [For a second, he looks... not sad, exactly. Maybe a little wistful. But he knows that all the wishing in the world won't change a thing. If it would... he'd have been able to change a lot of things, a long time ago.] She still doesn't, [he mentions quietly. When they're able to hold a conversation. Before she gets confused or forgets.

But he does his best to shake himself out of that, because it's not relevant right now.]

You can. [But he gives her a wry grin and says,] But you don't have to. You wouldn't be - you, otherwise. [Because who else will give Steve shit? He kind of counts on you to keep him honest. You know. If dishonesty were his thing.] So you do what comes natural. I'll just keep my head down and hope for the best.

[Wait. Hold up, Rogers, because this isn't something Becky or Bucky had heard about before, and she stops chewing halfway through a mouthful of bacon before rapidly finishing and swallowing so she can start interrogating him.]

What do you mean, she still doesn't? [She probably shouldn't be surprised - sixty some odd years isn't two hundred, but still. Steve hadn't said, and she hadn't pushed, because she'd kind of not been sure if she wanted to know the answer, but. Here we are.] Peggy's alive? You've talked to her?

[God, Steve. If she could, she'd punch the universe in the face for never cutting you a goddamn break.]

[No, it's not - and while Steve was sort of hoping to maybe gloss over it, he knew better the second he opened his mouth to say it.] Yeah. I have. [His lips flicker up, like he kind of wants to smile and say it's okay, but he just can't quite do it. Not well enough to convince Bucky, he knows - so not well enough to convince Becky.] A couple of times.

[It took him a long time to work up the courage. But once he did... it seemed wrong not to visit her regularly. Even if it hurt a hell of a lot more than he imagined. Maybe he's just always been a sucker for pain.] She's still the same old Peggy. [Well. Mostly. That's what matters to him.]

Jeez, Steve.

[No, he's not okay. There's no way he's okay, and suddenly (alright, maybe not so suddenly, because it's not like she'd been happy about stuff before) she's furious that she's not there to help. That this is as close as they're going to get to being together again, watching each others' backs until she gets her deal, and who knows when that's going to happen? Or if it ever will.

She wants to say she's sorry she's not there to help, but this is about Steve, not her. Becky lets out a breath and gets up, picking up her plate, silverware and mug, and jerks her head towards the couch.]

C'mon, let's get comfy and you can tell me what's going on.

[He doesn't quite wince, but he almost does. He didn't mean to make a big deal out of this - it's not. Really. It's just one of those things that is, because the world didn't wait for him while he spent almost seven decades on ice. He looks almost a little dismayed, as she picks up her plate and indicates they should sit down on the couch, like she wants to have a nice, long talk about this. He... doesn't.

But even he knows she's not going to let it lie, if he doesn't at least say something.

After a moment of hesitation, he grabs his coffee mug - he'll get back to the food in a minute, his stomach is churning a little - and tentatively sits on the edge of the couch, glancing over at her, wrapping his hands around the mug in a gesture he used to make all the time, in the winter, whether they had coffee or just hot water. He's not cold, now, but it's habit. Comforting, almost.]

There's nothing going on, [He says, trying to shrug it off, although it's a pretty weak attempt, and he knows it.] She's still alive. I've been to see her a couple of times, that's all. We talk. She puts up with me being - you know. Me.

[She doesn't want to have a nice long talk, not really. If Steve does, she'll listen and ask questions and say whatever she can to help make it better, but what she really wants is to just sit here and let him know she's here. He's not alone anymore, and maybe that means needing to relearn how to be around each other again, but she's not going anywhere.

She lets out a quiet snort when he says it and sits down next to him.]

Glad someone still does. [God knows he needs it.

Becky leans into him a little, pressing her shoulder against him, enough to be familiar and hopefully comforting without leaning on him too hard.]

We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I know I'm not exactly who you're expecting me to be, but- [She smiles and nudges him gently.] I bet he'll listen too, if we're really that much alike.

[And there's no way Steve's okay with this. No way in hell. And she hates that there's no bully she can punch in the face this time.]

[He glances over at her, smile a little weak; he wishes Bucky - hell, even Becky - were there to do it, too, but that's a whole different can of worms. He's not going to open that one, now or ever. But he's also never, ever going to say that his best friend, in any form, leaning against him like that isn't comforting. Because it is. He leans back, a little - carefully - and takes a slow sip of coffee.]

I know he would. I know you would. But there's just... nothing to talk about. [Which isn't true, of course, but there's nothing he wants to talk about. He's not okay with it. There's so much he's not okay with. But he also knows that nothing can make it okay.] There's nothing either of us can do from here, anyway. [He shrugs the shoulder not leaning against hers.] I didn't mean to interrupt breakfast, [he adds, with a headtilt in the direction of her food.]

[She shrugs in return, not looking all that bothered by it. It's easy to smile that usual sort of sly smile and pretend like she's doing him a huge favor just by being here, when in reality, she's kind of always felt like it was the other way around.] Maybe I just wanted to sit with you.

[She nudges him, and then sets aside her own plate, puts down her coffee mug, and hops up to retrieve his plate, passing it over and sitting down next to him again, leaning right back into his side like they're propping each other up.

And then promptly tries to sneak some of the fruit from her plate onto his, mostly to mess with him. Just another little reminder that she's always going to be looking out for him, no matter what she looks like right now.]

[Well, she - Bucky, whoever - is doing him a huge favor by being here. He just can't tell her (him) that. Although he knows Bucky and Becky both suspect it for a different reason entirely, maybe.

This is still a little confusing, you know. And yet he can't help but feel more at ease, the more he realizes she and Bucky really are the same person, at their core. It gets more and more obvious with every passing second. This is going to be a weird flood. But not an unbearable one. ]

Uh-huh. [His look says he knows that is absolutely not the case. So does his voice. And yet, everything about his demeanor should tell her that he appreciates it. That even if he's not going to talk, he feels a little better.

He even accepts his plate back, when she gets up to grab it for him, humming a little in thanks. Though he snorts when she not-so-subtly tries to shuffle some fruit onto his.] What you, don't like grapes anymore? Now I know something's up. [Have a gentler-than-normal elbow to the side, more of a ghost of a nudge, really, but you do look like a girl and he's kind of trained not to horse around with them.]

[Becky winds up elbowing him right back, maybe with just as much force as usual, because she's apparently got no qualms about horsing around.

It's also just easier now that he's looking a little less dead inside, because God, she's still not okay with this. She doesn't know how Steve's managed not to completely fall over with everything he's been up against, lately.

Then again, he's Steve, and she's not really surprised. Stubborn idiot.] Old habits die hard, Rogers. You need the vitamins.

[Which, well. He does. This is just different now, because Steve's tall and strong and healthy, and sometimes, that still feels like a gut punch of relief to realize and remember, that this is permanent, because it means no more nights of worrying over him, praying to anyone who would listen that he'd pull out of whatever illness had knocked him down this time.]

Got any other questions?

[The extra force - actually isn't surprising. It's also actually pretty comforting, even if he might not shove as hard as he normally does for the duration of this flood.

He doesn't fall apart because he can't - it's just that simple. There's no option that involves falling apart, because when he falls apart, it's all over. That's honestly what he believes, and no one's likely to convince him of anything else. Not in the near future. Maybe not in the far one.]

This is you telling me I should lay off the junk food, huh?

[Okay, so he doesn't actually eat a lot of junk food, for a lot of reasons. One being it's just not what they grew up with - oh, sure, not everything was healthy, but when you tended to eat the basics because that's all you could afford or that's all the orphanage gave you, you just got used to it. Another being that yes, he knows he needs the vitamins - Erskine explained the "you are what you eat" thing to him pretty extensively, after he'd been chosen for the test, and how he'd need more food, and higher-quality food. His body can't make something out of nothing, after all, and while it'll do what it has to in order to keep itself healthy, giving it the right tools makes the process a lot easier. He takes that pretty seriously, even if he's been guilty of eating whatever's handy (or particularly appealing and unhealthy) a time or two, too.

All the same, he ends up eating a couple of grapes, a thoughtful look on his face.] Not off the top of my head. It's just still a little strange. I'd ask you to tell me what's different, but, [he laughs a little.] There's nothing for you to compare it to. I guess we'll just figure out out as we go. [And he expects her to tell him if he gets weird without meaning to. Because he might. But he still wants to be clear about a few things, like:] You probably already know, but... everything here's yours, if you need it.

[And okay, maybe it's not a question, per se, but,] I don't know if you'd like those standard-issue bunks Bucky's got in his room as much as he seems to.

[He tries to sound witty and funny saying it. Although it's not like Steve actually minds those bunks, either. And honestly, after spending the night over there, coming back here and sleeping in his bed feels like... cheating. Like he doesn't deserve it. He's not actually sorry that most nights, he's either in those bunks or on the floor or the couch, here. That feels better. There's something in him that doesn't like having a place this nice, when Bucky's perfectly satisfied with what he's got. Steve would have been satisfied with that, too, really. It's just not what he ended up with. It's not what he really knows, anymore. And it just serves to remind him that he made out a lot better than Bucky, regardless of what happened.]