thirteen ✪ voice & spam

[imfollowinghim]

[Bucky sounds somewhere between pissed off and totally burnt out and hollow when he clicks on the comm, because boy, does he have an announcement for you.]

Helena just killed Cosima Niehaus. She jumped her in an empty cabin, she knows her from back home. Sort of.

[It's a little confusing and definitely private, so Bucky doesn't feel like getting into it on a public feed like this.]

I'm bringing Cosima to the infirmary, and I'm not putting Helena in Zero, [Because he's been down there and he's not sure how he feels about it - had he stuck Ben in there? He thinks maybe he did, and it makes him feel a little sick to his stomach - especially given Helena's been locked up before and he doesn't want her thinking this is like that.] But she's on house arrest in her room until I figure out how to get her to cut this shit out.

[Private to Ben]

Can I pick your brain about something?

[Three guesses what it's about.]

[Open Spam]

[After Bucky's brought Cosima to the infirmary and made sure Helena's still in her room, he knows he needs some space. He can't go right into talking to Helena while he's somewhere between furious and emotionally flatlining, because he's mad, but he knows this isn't entirely her fault, and he doesn't know what to do with it, or how to move forward.

Funny, but he thinks he remembers something like this happening forever ago. That might have been part of the reason he'd bothered Ben.

He's pissed. At himself, mostly, so it's easy to head down to the gym, pull off his uniform jacket, wrap his hands and start focusing on beating the shit out of a punching bag instead of thinking about anything else. He'd learned how to box young - his dad had taught him some, and then he'd learned more as he'd got older, partly out of necessity (he could earn money for winning fights, and it never hurt to know how to throw a mean punch when your best friend was hell bent on taking on every bully in New York, let alone Brooklyn) and partly because he'd just been good at it.

So he attacks the bag like he knows what he's doing, because he does, and there's something almost mechanical and vicious about it, not to mention the look on his face. The bag's not in danger of getting ripped out of the ceiling, but it still swings forcefully, maybe even a little more than it probably should.

After a while, he heads back to his room to hose himself off, and hits up the dining hall. He's changed into his Commandos jacket, and slips a couple things into his jacket pockets - an apple, a roll wrapped in a paper napkin - before heading on his way. He doesn't really have time to sit and eat enough lunch for two people today.

Because he does, after all, have two other stops he needs to make:]

[Spam for Helena]

[Once he's calmed down enough to do this the right way, instead of just scowling at her and hoping that did something marginally productive, Bucky heads back to Helena's room. It's part of the reason he'd stopped by the dining hall first, besides just being hungry - maybe the food can act as some kind of peace offering for sticking her in here in the first place.

Even if the reason it'd happened was because she killed someone.

He takes a breath before knocking on the door, just to give her a head's up someone's outside.]

It's Bucky. I'm coming in. [And then he's pushing open the door, not entirely certain of what he's stepping into.]

[Spam for Cosima]

[And after that's done, it's time for the harder part of this messy little operation: apologizing to the person your inmate attacked and killed within like, a couple hours of them showing up here in the first place.

This is made worse by the fact that it doesn't seem like she's awake when he first gets there, which means he's just. Going to awkwardly loiter around trying not to look too out of place or uncomfortable just waiting around here for signs of life or movement. Maybe he should've waited a while longer - he remembers the death toll and how bad it sucks - but he kind of feels like this shouldn't wait, even if it's just a short visit. It's not like either one of them's going anywhere for a while, although she's a little more stuck than he is.

So, hi. There's a stranger sort of awkwardly hanging around your hospital bed, wearing a uniform that might not look entirely unfamiliar to you.]

Comments

[imfollowinghim]

[Bucky's at least pretty good (pretty, because God knows he still has - had? - his moments) at not seeming like he's trying to patronize her. It's more like he just wants to help, which is exactly what's happening. He's never, ever been good at just sitting around when there's something you can be doing.

So he helps her drink, and then sets the cup down within arm's reach on the bedside table when she's finished.]

We could probably come up with something. [He even manages to force one corner of his mouth upwards in what might be considered a smile in response to hers. A small one, and one that's definitely still distracted and guilty, but it's better than nothing.

Now to think about what you give the person who already knows how goddamn shitty it can be to be here.]

I'm Bucky. [Er, well.] Sergeant James Barnes, I go by Bucky. Helena's my inmate.

[So.]

We're probably gonna be seeing a lot of each other.

[cannulalingus]

[ Ooooh, sergeant.

He's gentle, but not patronizing. She likes that in a person.

It's funny, thinking of someone military in charge of Helena. There's not much that reads particularly militant about Bucky, not like she would or might have been used to. Considering Project LEDA, its possible involvements elsewhere - She likes irony, is the thing. ]

Thanks. [ With a small, shaky wave. ] Cosima. But you - you probably already know - know that.

[ Breathing's tight, but she can still manage. She gives Bucky a fleeting and exhausted smile. As for Helena - Maybe that's why the smile's fleeting. She lets a hand rub at her forehead where a throbbing headache's forming, but she nods nonetheless, taking into factor what she knows about Helena. ]

You have a file on her. Right? You - you know what she's been through.

[ Even aching, even on the verge of tears - it wavers in her voice like the lump in her throat - she can't help her gestures, hands raising to tiredly circle each other in thought. ] She thinks it's her job. Sh-she thinks [ she clears her throat ] what she's doing is righteous.

I can't blame her for doing her job. I can't blame her for whatever abuse they did to her. I just can - can't.

[ The end of which gives her a bit of a coughing fit - she really shouldn't talk so much, not in this condition - and she quickly draws a kleenex from the table nearby, giving him a 'one sec' sort of symbol as she - Christ, that smarts.

There's blood when she does that, which is nothing new to her but it doesn't mean she any less discreetly folds that away, wipes cleanly at her lips. ]

She knows - [ Cosima sighs. ] She knows how to react around us, when I come from. Better, at least - I've never met - [ Her lips tighten, and the not until now hangs unsaid in the air. ]

I know she can graduate. I know she has the capability.

[imfollowinghim]

[Well. This is going a lot differently from how he'd expected it to. Bucky can guess what he'd be like if he was in her shoes - scared (but trying not to be) and angry, and pretty unwilling to be remotely forgiving towards the person who'd attacked him - and instead she's basically saying she forgives Helena. That's... pretty incredible, actually.

And Bucky wants to focus on that, really, he does. They should talk about this, but then she starts coughing, and the noise tears at him (a lot) a little. Cosima's quick with the kleenex, but the cough had been wet and painful sounding, and - as gross as it is, and he's not sure if it's just because he's been around it a lot or what - he can smell the blood, and it makes him tense up even more.

It makes him think of Sarah, Steve's mom, back when she'd gotten sick. Really sick, and he doesn't know if this is TB or what, but watching people struggle with illness has always scared him, even if he won't admit it.

Fortunately, he catches himself and tucks that immediate concern behind a mask of nonchalance, like they really are just having a normal conversation. About someone who's identical to her murdering her on her first day on an interdimensional ship of the damned.

So maybe not that normal.]

Thanks. For saying that. I know I definitely wouldn't've held it against you if you didn't want anything to do with her again after this, let alone forgiving her. [Because seriously.] I'm gonna do everything I can to make sure this doesn't happen again. [But she's hurting and sick, and talking to him isn't helping, and he knows the guilt he feels isn't necessarily rational, but it's there. This- well. He's not sure if it was a mistake, but he does know that she's in a hell of a lot of pain and apparently really, really sick, and he can't just stand here acting like he doesn't notice.]

Lemme go get one of the doctors.

[cannulalingus]

Don't.

[ She sighs thinly and rubs a hand at her chest, glancing up towards Bucky definitely without a smile but still trying to regard him cheerfully nonetheless. ] Seriously. It's okay. I'm - [ she tugs at the cannula a bit, eyebrows piquing ] - kinda used to it.

[ Not all of it. She feels like she got hit by a truck. But there was that whole - death toll idea, she knew vaguely of it. Now she guessed she got to experience it. ]

I don't want to talk - talk to a doctor right now.

[ Poking and prodding. Nah. She's rather just ache it out. ] Unless you know somebody who can get me the good stuff? The morphine, huh? [ She gives a sarcastic thumbs up.

She's sobered almost immediately afterward, hand plopping back down into her lap. ]

But I do want to talk to her. [ She does smile then, only briefly and tiredly. Her breath puffs but she presses on. ] Maybe with a second pair of eyes this time.

[ When she's not going to fly across a table and kill her. ]

I need - I need to talk to her. I just, I have to.

[imfollowinghim]

[Her insistence doesn't really help. Bucky's used to that, too - people saying they're okay when they're desperately in need of help, but Cosima's not Steve and it's easier to count to ten, take a breath, and accept that okay. Maybe this isn't something he can fix like that.

At least she's already in the infirmary. That helps make this easier.]

Okay. [And then he forces a small smile, trying to be lighthearted.] David and Jack act like they live here, they probably know where the good stuff is.

[There's a part of him that wants to ask what's wrong, but that's personal and prying and he knows better. Mostly.

So he switches tracks, and keeping trying not to let on how hard it is to just stand here and not do too much to help.]

Sure. Yeah, we can arrange something like that. [He can probably tackle Helena if she tries anything, and he could probably ask Steve or Ben or someone to hang by and get Cosima out of there if it starts getting bad.] Might wanna wait a while, though. I remember how lousy the death toll is.

[cannulalingus]

[ She cracks a smile at that, glad she'd thought to lick the blood off her teeth beforehand. She knows she's a downer, or at least her condition is - especially her miserable current one - but, hey, if he can keep it lighthearted, she can definitely do the same.

She'd drive herself nuts if she went with anything different, anyway. ]

I'll have to ask around. Maybe they'll take pity on me.

[ With another clearing of her throat, she can feel it start to settle, that tickle in it gone and the tissue clutched tightly in her fist. ]

But I'm all for the waiting. Waiting is - [ She gives a small, pained laugh, holding up an 'a-okay' sign with her fingers. ] Waiting is fine with me. [ At least until she's back on her feet. ] You've, um. You died? Here?

[imfollowinghim]

Yeah. [He hesitates a beat before deciding that this whole looming over her thing is not really working out for him, so he kidnaps the chair that had been set up near the bed next to hers and pushes it over so he can sit down next to her. He slides his hands in his pockets and regards the opposite wall, then the bedside table while he explains, because it might feel distant and barely real, like some half remembered dream, it's still not exactly fun to remember.]

I got stabbed trying to break my inmate - my old inmate - out of an alien prison. It happened pretty fast. [It had barely even hurt, that's how quickly he'd died. There had been a lot of blood, and he'd collapsed, and passed Ben the gun he'd stolen, and that was it, really.

Somehow, falling off the train seemed like it took longer, even though he knows that's not true. A couple seconds at most had stretched out to feel like minutes.]

You'll be okay, though. The symptoms start easing up in a couple days, then it's like it never even happened.

[Physically, anyway, but he doesn't think he needs to rub it in that this isn't something she's going to be forgetting about soon.]

[cannulalingus]

I'd ask, um - [ Deep breaths, Cosima, you can do this. You don't have to cry either. ] I'd ask how exactly that works but I'm guessing that's not an easy question to answer. [ If he can at all. Or anyone. ]

I'm sorry. You had to go through that. [ She clasps a hand to her chest and rubs there, turning her head to face him. ] Guess I can kinda commiserate on the subject. [ With a breathless laugh, she has to admit: ] Cuz it really does hurt like hell.

[ And, yeah, that's not just physically. ]

[imfollowinghim]

It's not. [Bucky manages something that might be a teasing, slightly self depreciating grin at his next admission, because he's not an idiot, but he's definitely not someone who studies this sort of thing for a living, and even they probably wouldn't be able to help you.] And I'd be the wrong guy to try and give you one.

[The apology's brushed off with a shrug - he remembers it happened, but the whole thing is like some badly remembered dream, with certain parts a lot brighter and clearer than others. It kind of helps make it easier to deal with, in a weird way.] It happens.

[And he figures now is probably not the time to announce that he's already dead anyway, so who cares, really?]

Look, I'm kind of a pain in the ass [meaning "used to"] when it comes to this whole sitting by someone's hospital bed routine, so- [The grin he flashes her way is friendly and almost normal, like they're not sitting here because he'd been too late to stop her clone from strangling her.] If you wanna sit and talk, or play cards or something, lemme know.

[cannulalingus]

Something tells me I don't get much choice in the matter.

[ It's not unkind, it's just an observation. Cosima knows that, at the very least, at least she would feel some sort of sense of responsibility, and she figures Bucky does too. Given that, she's not about to kick him out, exhausted as she might be.

Plus, it doesn't hurt to have somebody on standby when you feel like utter crap, however scared out of her shoes she actually is or not.

She's leaning towards 'is'. ]

Well, Mr. Man, nobody's stopping you. [ She settles in with a half a smile of her own, fleeting and quiet, but definitely a smile. ] Why? Did you actually bring cards?

[imfollowinghim]

Yeah, actually. [Bucky's answering grin is somewhere between sheepish and cheeky, because he is totally not shitting you right now. He reaches into one of the pouches on his belt and pulls out a battered pack of playing cards, which he's holding up and out for inspection.]

You'd be surprised how much sitting around waiting for something to happen goes on during a war. A couple of my buddies and I started carrying 'em around for when we got bored.

[And he'd usually kept one nearby back home, too, for when Steve was laid up with a cold or whatever else.]