mental link, day...36? sure.

[headinjuries]

[ Technically, it came up a few days ago, but Sam's been letting something bounce around in his head to see if the possibility gets less troublesome after he sleeps on it. And sleeps on it a couple more times.

or he's just saying it late so the newbies can hear it too, w/e

It's not getting any less freaky. So, out of left field: ]

( So if aliens can hack our emotions, do we...actually know they can't mess with everything else? Memories? Are we actually who we think we are?

What if there is no spoon? )

Comments

[headinjuries]

( Did you ever see The Matrix? Like that. )

[bracchium]

( ...What is it? The Matrix? )

i'm so sorry he's ruining everything

[headinjuries]

( It's this movie where the whole world we know is just a computer program to keep people's minds busy while robots use them as human batteries. )

oh it's just fine little bb

[bracchium]

[Bucky's end of the link buzzes a couple short blips.]

( How? )

[It's the question he shouldn't ask, doesn't want to ask, but needs to ask.]

[headinjuries]

[ He seems...a little on edge?

Then again, it's Bucky. When isn't he super intense? ]

( I'm not sure how it works if you want to get super technical, but they had these big caves full of pods, and everyone was in pods hooked up to the computer so it kinda put the whole illusion straight into their brains. )

[ Waking up in pods attached to something, huh.

He really needs to stop giving himself ideas. ]

[bracchium]

[The static in Bucky's mind nearly explodes as it expands exponentially. Amber-lit pods glow out of the darkness, other Soldiers, other Weapons, frozen until used. Frosted over with spider webs of ice as he's dragged on his knees between them to the Chair. He loses himself in a vacuum until there is nothing but the low humming of the programming, the words.

желание

ржaвый

Семнадцать

Рассвет

Печь

Девять

добросердечный

озвращение на родину

Один

грузовой вагон

And then there's blood, screaming. Wipe. Freeze.

Again, his knees burn against the floor. The words. The blood. Wipe. Freeze.

Was this... was this some illusion of freedom? Was he dreaming in Siberia? Would he lose all of these new memories, these new people like he did before?]

[headinjuries]

[ what the hell

It feels like he just got smacked in the head with a brick. A staticy, ice-covered, Russian (?) brick.

It takes him a moment to remember to breathe, another to get his mind turned back right-side up (he hopes). But as soon as he collects himself - ]

( Are you okay? )

[bracchium]

[He's dragged again to the Chair. His head is buzzing and yet blank, like it's been put through a blender on full speed with a handful of rocks. He can't even see properly, vision blurred and nausea crawling up his throat. He can't breathe and--- wipe, blood, freeze.

Again. Again. Again.

His side of the link twitches, like ripping up a weed but finding its roots still tangled in the dirt. He's trying to disconnect, but can't and there's more screaming, always more screaming.]

[headinjuries]

[ It would be easy, far too easy, to get lost in the backlash. Or back off completely so he won't.

How about neither.

He takes a few deep breaths, and it's only after a few moments when he's steady enough on his metaphorical feet not to get knocked over that he tries again. ]

( Bucky. Dude. Can you still hear me at all? )

[bracchium]

[He doesn't know how long he's been awake. Or hasn't been awake. Every moment of white-hot awareness is surrounded by an ocean of uncertainty, but the Soldier has no use or time for doubt. He has a mission.

Blood. Begging. Screaming. Please spare me, I have a family, I---

Static continues to crackle in bursts, sine waves burning through the link one after the other.]

[headinjuries]

[ There's got to be something he can do, because that's how Sam rolls. There has to be something because he's afraid to accept he can do nothing.

But he's beyond out of his element, with all the psychic stuff.

Concentrate. Good vibes? Calm blue ocean? ]

private mental link to Bucky

[sizeofyourbaggage]

[ Shit this is pretty much exactly what Sam was concerned about - and not just because that sure is a hell of a lot of feedback over their mental link. Sam retreats from the Hive in general, focusing just on the brood link between him and Barnes.

He waits on the edge of Barnes' mind, not inviting himself in, just... standing there on the edge of the shore, taking in what Barnes is putting out and giving back nothing.

A steady source of calm; offering, not forcing, that'd worked last time and Sam just hopes it might do something now. ]

( Bucky. I need you to focus on me, all right? Where are you? )

private

[bracchium]

[Bucky's mind sends wave after wave of disjointed static that build upon each other. The acid in his throat crawls higher and he can't see straight. Amber pods glow in the caverns of Siberia.

When the first of the waves crash against Sam, the tide tries to draw him in as the next swell rises. Bucky is still in Siberia, still underground, still frozen and thawed like a bag of meat.

This isn't real. He never got out, he never escaped.]

private -> move to action?

[sizeofyourbaggage]

[ All right, scratch that, this one is a hell of a lot worse than the flashback on the station or the terror when he'd gone to find Steve and Barnes in Subspace - this is full on Winter Soldier shit, and Sam's gonna have to step up his game.

There's a part of him that thinks he should probably reach out to the rest of the brood and tell them to distance themselves as much as possible - but he's too focused on trying to withstand the static surging against him. Sam refuses to let it draw him under, and he sure as hell isn't going to give up until he can pull Barnes out.

Or better yet, get Barnes to get himself out, but Sam'll take what he can get.

Which is why he's up and moving, heading for the room Barnes has been in since more or less coming back to the Bearings. He knocks on the door at the same time as he brushes against Barnes's mind a little more firmly, a mental knock knock. But if Barnes doesn't answer, Sam is gonna let himself on in.

Physically, anyway, he still won't go further in Barnes's head without his permission. ]

action!

[bracchium]

[Each wave ends with the same image, with hands pressed to the glass as it freezes over. Without end, again and again and any hope of escape is destroyed as his memory resets just as many times. Yet, he goes back. The faces saying the words are different, mortal while he himself is chained to an immortality he didn't choose. Back in the Chair, the low buzz, the shriek of cold metal.

The knock at his door isn't met with any response and the mental equivalent is met with a tidal wave of frigid static.

Inside, the lights are off and Bucky himself seated on the bed, head turned to the side as he stares at nothing in the dark.]

[sizeofyourbaggage]

[ Oh, because that ain't creepy as hell. This is the part where if Sam were smart, he'd back the hell away and let Barnes figure this out himself, rather then walk into a dark room with a traumatized assassin who's tried to kill him at least three times while brainwashed and may or may not have snapped back into the same headspace as the last time it happened.

He almost wonders if he could find Barnes in there if he tried - if he let himself use their mental link and pushed into Barnes's mind, if he could figure out what was going on in there and pull Barnes out. But it doesn't matter, really, because it's not like he's gonna try, and even the thought itself is fleeting. He keeps his mind as steady as he can, blocked off as best as he can, as he steps into the room and nudges the door shut, flicking on the light.

There's no way he's gonna back off this time. ]

Bucky, man. I really don't want to have to snap you out of this the way we did the last time, so it'd be real damn great if you could focus on what's here and not what's in there. I'm Sam Wilson, and your name is Bucky Barnes, you hearing me?

[greentech]

[ OK, ow. Pidge sways in her seat. She's browsing the 'net and half paying attention to the weird, chattering mental conversation that's going on in the back of her mind, but then one of her broodmates' minds gets louder and she feels like she's just taken an electric shock. There are images burning through her head and she doesn't know how to shut them out. She tries to concentrate and all she gets is more feedback.

What is this? ]

( What's going on? Are you OK? )

[bracchium]

[Getting more feedback is the name of the game here. Bucky can't hear anything over the thought of still trapped, still wiped, still erased no matter how hard he tries to fight. He can hardly breathe in the epicenter, each wave of static burning hotter and hotter.

Do your part soldier.

We can't do ours if you don't do yours.

Good morning soldier.]

[greentech]

[ It's all bleeding over and Pidge winces again. She cna't really help it; it's just a barrage of half-formed memories and emotions and it all starts to become too much for her to handle. She tries to slam her mental walls up, trying to force the connection shut - or at least block the overload coming her way. ]

[bracchium]

[The static deepens, reaching out with its claws in an attempt to pull Pidge down into the mess that is the programming.]

[greentech]

[ Oh, boy. This is one of her brood-mates and she's not that good at this yet. She tries to fling up as many mental obstacles as she can and backpedal. Nope, nope, nope! ]

lmk if this is ok!!!

[deployed]

[ uh oh.

Enough of this twigs against Bellamy's memories of Mount Weather to make him break out in a cold sweat. He doesn't project anything verbally, just sensation, warmth and pressure, like a hand squeezing a shoulder, faint questioning following.

Are you okay? ]

it's perfect, just like you u_u

[bracchium]

[Bucky's brain is going haywire. The gentle push of Bellamy's mind on his own sends a burst of static arcing over the space between them, like a muscle twitch.]

wah pinches your cute cheeks

[deployed]

[ The static is uncomfortable, makes him wince the same way feeling too much of Ren's mind against his own does. Bellamy doesn't relent in spite of it. He presses back, meets the returned static with the same steady warmth. ]

( Hey, ) [ gruff, Bellamy's voice unspooling between them. ] ( You aren't there. Focus on me, not that. It's over. )

[ Until Sam gets there. He'll handle it, Bellamy knows. Sam Wilson is the better choice between them. Lurking in the back of Bellamy's mind are memories that are all too similar to the flashes and static Bucky's offering. ]

ㅎㅅㅎ

[bracchium]

[The continued contact fields more static, though the sharpness dulls with Bellamy's steady presence. However, the words don't quite filter through the screen of panic and hopelessness; it isn't over. It's never going to be over. He never got out. Freeze, thaw, screams and his hands dig into flesh with practiced ease. Freeze, thaw.]