day 49ish am; {open after initial waking}

[bracchium]

{sam + steeb}
[One moment silence echoes from the wound where Bucky’s mind should be. In the next, an explosion of frigid static unfurls from the emptiness and cascades through his links. In his room, he stumbles from his bed onto the cushions laid out beside it. The feathers braided into his hair swing about his ears and into his vision, releasing a surge of confusion alongside the static. Voices fill his head, like they’re standing inches away from him but when he raises his head from where he’s crouched on the floor, there are only two faces watching him.]


{everyone/anyone}
[The swell of static doesn't stop, but it does at least ebb quieter and quieter as the initial burst calms to a low hum. Occasional flares still rise to the surface throughout the coming days, however.]

Comments

gathers you to my bosom

[deployed]

( Bellamy. )

[ He projects a mishmash of remembered interaction in the wake of his answer, as if to punctuate without going into detail. ]

u are th e pam to my jim ayyyyy

[bracchium]

[Bellamy. That's right. He's met Bellamy before in subspace and again in Bearings.]

( Bellamy. ) [Suspicious, unsure.]

always ok

[deployed]

( Do you remember? )

[ that question is gentle too. bellamy knows to tread carefully there, remembers bucky's mind spinning away from him through the link. the last thing bellamy wants to do is push him into repeating that. ]

[bracchium]

[A series of pulses fire, misfires and failed starts, before recognition lights up the link. Bellamy. That's right. Bellamy in Subspace. Bellamy here in his room as they speak quietly.]

( You asked if I read. ) [Less of a statement and more of a question.]

[deployed]

( Yes. )

[ It's one of the more benign instances in which their paths crossed. Bellamy's sure that projecting a secondhand memory of Bucky losing control of his thoughts over the mental link wouldn't be of any use right now. ]

( We met in the antiques shop. And then you were asleep. )

[ Which had to be difficult for Sam, though he hadn't said anything of it. ]

[bracchium]

[That's right. Bucky's mind fills with the memory of the shop, of meeting Bellamy's gaze through the glass.]

( Asleep. ) [Sam and Steve said something similar, but he's still not entirely sure on how.] ( Others are asleep, too? )

[deployed]

( Yes. )

[ Though he isn't clear on how many of them Bucky will remember. A small, concerned undercurrent thrums beneath Bellamy's thoughts, but he carefully suppresses it. ]

( You don't have to worry about that right now. Have you talked to anyone else? Your brood? )

[bracchium]

[Bucky gives the mental equivalent of a head nod.]

( Sam Wilson. Steve. )

[Pause and a gentle nudge of the link.] ( You. )

[deployed]

[ Bellamy meets that nudge like the clasp of hands, encouraging. ]

( Anyone make you something to eat yet? )

[bracchium]

[Oh yeah. Eating.]

( Not yet. Not hungry. )

[deployed]

( I'm making eggs. )

[ hint hint ]

( There's enough for two. )

[bracchium]

[Oh. He chews on the idea before reaching back out to Bellamy.]

( I could help. )

[deployed]

( I could use help. Come here? )

[ Bellamy projects the kitchen to him casually, beckoning. Come on, Bucky. You know you wanna. ]

[bracchium]

[He does want to busy his hands with something; helping make food sounds like an excellent use of them. On top of that, he didn't eat anything with Sam and Steve, due to a now-passed nausea. Good timing Bellamy.

Bucky will make his way to the kitchen at his own pace. Feathers are braided into his hair and he does his best to tuck them back as he comes into view.]

Think I could help break some eggs.