You’re a stranger to me (open);

[bracchium]

CHARACTERS: bucky barnes and you!
WHERE: bellatrix brood pods + dark corners
WHEN: once he wakes up idk which day
SUMMARY: bucky has a good nap
WARNINGS: mentions of violence, sad super soldiers etc



{bellatrix brood pods}

Bucky doesn’t remember going to sleep in a tube, but it’s not the first time this kind of thing has happened. When he opens his eyes, deja vu sours his stomach, leaving him with familiar nausea. The sense of belonging that follows immediately in its wake, though, further upsets the bile crawling up his throat. He doesn’t belong here, though he’s not immediately sure of where ‘here’ is; the Soldier is nothing but a danger to those around him.

He sinks to his knees, blinking around at his surroundings, and waits for firm hands to drag him upright before he can take his first breath. But, instead, of the hollow darkness of Siberia, the glow of the Station welcomes him in a way that grows more sickening. There are penalties for getting sick, and he swallows down the acid burning his mouth.

He waits. He waits, jaw clenched and gaze down.

——

{dark corners}

After a chance to re-orient himself with his surroundings and companions, Bucky ducks away to the relative quiet of the far corners of the Station. His head throbs with the chorus of minds connected to his own, but the hollow burn in his chest bites deeper. He had gone to sleep again and in that time, he hadn’t attacked anyone else in the Station, in direct contrast to the majority of his life, both on the Station and off. Thinking back to his arrival on the Station reminded him of something Sam had said about a ‘Sleeping Beauty act.’ Did he choose to go to sleep back on Earth? Was such a thing possible? Could he do the same here on the Station?

For now, though, he needed the space to think. No place on the Station was truly private, but the farther from his fellows, the better.

——

{wildcard???}

Comments

[bracchium]

There are voices, what feels like hundreds of them, twisting and curling around his mind like a crown. One draws nearer, bobbing like a bead on a string. When he raises his head, he recognizes the bob of auburn hair, but doesn't immediately draw a name. Not one of his targets, but someone still so infinitely familiar. Her sensations feed back into him, doubling his sour stomach and the nausea that rides hot on its heels.

The guilt isn't unusual, either, and tastes far more familiar than he likes.

"You're..." He begins, unsure. He's met her before. Her face draws up memories, but the conversations are stilted and broken, like a film assembled out of order.

[greentech]

Wow, he doesn't... look good at all. He doesn't feel good, either. There's a jumble of memories and emotions running through her head and she tries to lock it down, find something that she can latch onto. She bites her lip and then raises a hand.

"Uh. Katie. I'm Katie. You remember, right?"

Or maybe he doesn't. It's all pretty fractured, from what she can tell.

[bracchium]

Katie. They talked once, he thinks. Once or twice. The link pulling in the back of his mind provides information he doesn't need to ask for, but without context it hangs loose and fragmented in his head. From what he can tell, she doesn't seem any more sure than he is.

"The symbiotes," he replies, his voice distant. "We talked about symbiotes."

[greentech]

"Yeah, you remember that, right?" Pidge does. The awkwardness of trying to to get him to understand what she wanted to do, his reaction to some of her proposals. It hadn't been the greatest conversation, but she'd sort of felt like she was getting through to him. A little.

"How to handle them."

[bracchium]

That's right. Bucky tries to replay the memories in the right order this time, but there's still gaping holes, minutes of time, missing. He remembers wanting to connect with his broodmate.

"You wanted to experiment on them?" He asks, not entirely sure.

[greentech]

"Something like that. Run some tests so I could figure out how they actually worked..." She inches a bit closer and holds out her hand. This feels sort of ridiculous. He outweighs her b a ton and could probably benchpress her with one hand.

"You, uh, got kind of upset, I think."

[bracchium]

Bucky pauses and watches her as she reaches out a hand to him. He accepts with a blink and makes to get to his feet.

"I was experimented on," he replies, as easily as one might state the current president.

[greentech]

The touch comes as a slight surprise. She wasn't sure he'd accept, but he does and as he clambers to his feet, she gets a whiff of what's happened to him. Experimented on. Like Shiro, like so many other people. Her eyes widen and she opens her mouth to say something, then closes it, not sure of what to say or how to say it.

"I'm... sorry. That must have been awful."

[bracchium]

Someone told him once the connection becomes more intense with touch. While she sees the deep chill of Siberia, he catches glimpses of stars, looking for someone, always just out of reach. The images stay with him once he's on his feet and the words fall past his lips, "Who was he?"

The one she's looking for. Or ones. There are two.

[greentech]

Katie sucks in a breath. She can still feel the echo of the cold as it seeps into her skin and bones and it takes her a moment to focus. He's asking a question. It's not one she always likes to answer, but he's a broodmate. He's in her mind (or they share one, rather). She breathes out.

"...My dad and my brother. They went missing a year ago. People kept telling me they were gone, that they were dead, but... I couldn't accept that."

[bracchium]

For a moment, Bucky wonders if he's stepped over a silent boundary. He's still very new at navigating delicate conversations. Steve has memories of a smoother Bucky, one with charm and heart and a smile, but he's so far from that he doesn't know where to start. Her response leaves him with a strange sort of regret in his bones. If Steve had looked seventy years ago when he fell, would he be the Soldier?

"Don't stop looking," he murmurs, quieter than before, like a prayer.

[greentech]

Human conversation is a confusing thing, even at the best of times. There are taboos and lines of thought that might seem inoffensive to one but will shatter someone else. Picking one's way through that minefield is often hazardous. She shifts her weight, feeling as if there's something she's not quite picking up on; the memory of someone who feels a touch familiar. The weight of years that she's never experienced.

"...I don't plan to. If I stop... I wouldn't be me anymore."

She doesn't know him well but somehow she feels connected to him. It's the symbiote, tugging at her attention, mixing their thoughts, but she can't bring herself to resent it. Not right now.