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

[sizeofyourbaggage]

[ Hell, Sam can roll with that. If Bucky's got preferences, whatever they might be, he can keep that in mind. Honestly he might just use it as an excuse to get Bucky cooking with him, so he can see what's going in it.

He can feel Bucky's defenses go up, but he just eases back, doesn't try to push them at all. There's another reason why he lets people in his head first, and it's the same reason why he always shared first back at the VA. Ease them into things, let himself be vulnerable first. And here if nothing else, at least Bucky'll get an idea of how protect his mind.

Sam tugs gently at their connection, more of an invitation than anything - come here, it's okay. The cloud layer that surrounds his mind thins, welcoming Bucky in. ]

[bracchium]

[Bucky sits back behind his defenses, waiting for something. He's not sure exactly what, but he knows it when he recognizes the tug at their connection. He sucks in a breath and tentatively stretches himself over the link. He expects it to feel colder, like his own mind, frosted over with an unshakable chill, but instead, it's a bit like stepping into warm bath water.

He's not sure what exactly to do or what to look for. For all that the link draws them together, Bucky still doesn't know that much about Sam personally to identify elements of defenses.]

[sizeofyourbaggage]

[ Here, at least, Sam's on stable ground. He's done this before, and he knows how to draw attention to his defenses as he works through each layer of them. Sam focuses on the base level of his shielding, the one that's become second nature to keep up - and the rolling clouds that obscure his mind become more prominent, alternatively glinting with the pinks and golds of sunrise or streaked with the lightning of a storm. The visualization is part of what gives it strength, for Sam, and he focuses deliberately on the feeling of how he keeps it up.

Of how emotions and thoughts flicker across his mind, jumbled up and vague, and he lets them all go, visualizes them disappearing through the mist of the clouds before he can get stuck on them.

He turns his attention to active defense, to what he does when someone's trying to get into his mind and he doesn't want them there. Maybe it should be harder to do this when Bucky's already in his mind, maybe he should struggle with not kicking him out, too, but... Bucky is a welcome presence, it seems, and Sam doesn't know how much of that is him and how much is the symbiote. It's not hard at all to visualize the wings that wrap around both him and Bucky like a shield, feathers strong but flexible, meant to bend without breaking. He moves slow, guiding Bucky through the process, most of his focus on how he forms them.

And then he starts letting everything go. The wings fade, the cloud layer thins even more until there's obvious patches in it. This is the first time that Sam's done this with a broodmate, with someone who he already has as strong of a connection as he does with Bucky. When he lowers his defenses to let Bucky in, to give him an idea of how Sam's mind feels without them - it's immediately deeper than he's ever done before.

Sam's mind isn't quiet. It's alive, warm and vibrant even with its steadiness, a sense of confidence and security in knowing who he is without ever forgetting the journey that he took to get there - but there's an undercurrent of something else. An echo of what had once been chaos, something dark and empty and hollow that's always there. Never gone, but faded, learned to live with even if he sometimes struggles with complete acceptance.

And slowly his mind is obscured again, as he focuses on bringing the clouds back. ]

[bracchium]

[At first, the swirl of color seems chaotic, but Bucky does his best to pay attention to the details. The clouds glimmer to life, outlined like a target in a mission briefing. Except, instead of blood red haloes, Sam's mind is painted with the shades of the dawn after a long night. Every swatch of rose and lavender is filled with strength, each purposeful, unlike Bucky's hastily assembled hovel of frosted brick and barbed wire. Those don't make him feel strong. Instead, they remind him of his most powerless, of long years spent locked behind amber glass.

He can't quite shake the chill that trails in his presence, but he continues to observe how Sam visualizes his disappearing in the mist of pinks.

Familiar wings sprout around Sam and Bucky doesn't fight them. They fold around him and Sam both, burying him deeper in Sam's head, further from the frozen wastelands of Siberia. He sinks deeper into Sam than he ever thought possible. Like fireworks on a warm summer night with the salt of the ocean on the air, he thinks. Like Brooklyn. Very much alive and blazing bright and Bucky can't help but think it beautiful. Moreso than that dawn after the night, than the first breath of air after a long swim.

Beneath it all, though, is that quiet darkness that Bucky is far more familiar with; however, its brine doesn't sour the vibrant play of colors. When he thinks of moving closer, of staying longer, is when the clouds gather, this time gently nudging against him.

With some measure of reluctance, he slides back to his own mind. The cold is somehow more biting now, the ongoing blizzard picking up now that he's returned. ]

[sizeofyourbaggage]

[ There's a faint sense of something that might almost be protest as Bucky slips from his mind, and though the reluctance he feels might be an echo of Bucky's, he knows it's still his own. He more than doesn't mind Bucky being that far into his head - and it ain't just because he could feel Bucky's reaction to his mind.

He sends Bucky out with a lingering sense of warmth, something to take with him - the brush of feathers against his cheek, fingers through his hair and the faint press of Sam's forehead against Bucky's. ]

( You know your way in now, huh? You're always welcome. ) [ His clouds are opaque enough for it to be clear that he means it. And now would be the part where he goes into Bucky's head to help him put into place what he just saw - but that was a lot for both of them, and he still remembers Bucky's reluctance to have Sam in his head. He'll leave it there, for now. ] ( When you're working on yours, think about what makes you feel safe. )

[bracchium]

[Bucky takes those small notes of comfort and clutches them close as he trudges back through the blizzard to the frozen, steely core of his mind. He doesn't know what makes him feel safe anymore. Sam's mind was beautiful, stunning even, and his is so bleak and dark in comparison. From deep in the snowstorm, the rusted facade of the bunker rises to life, barely visible through layers and layers of ice.

He doesn't feel safe here. Or anywhere, really. He can't trust his own head

Part of him wants to go back to Sam's summery embrace..]

[sizeofyourbaggage]

[ With how open their connection still is, there's no way Sam doesn't pick up on some of that. And he wants so damn bad to follow Bucky back, to try to bring a little light and warmth, to give him something to help make things just a little less cold. It's always been what Sam's done, just... more metaphorically before.

Sam angles himself in, just a little bit, reaching out to thread his fingers with Bucky's at the same time as his wings stretch back out across their mental link, curling around them both. ]

( Come here? ) [ Mentally or physically or both, Sam honestly isn't all that sure what he means. He just knows he doesn't either of them to be alone, just for a little bit longer. ]

[bracchium]

[It's strangely intimate, despite how deeply entrenched the two already are in each other's minds. Sam bids him closer and Bucky does, both physically and mentally. His fingers close tight around Sam's as he leans in a few inches, like a man clinging to a life raft.

The wings curl around them both, sheltering Bucky from the raging blizzard. He imagines the feathers glowing orange with heat, melting away the frost already gathered on the fringe of his mind.]

[sizeofyourbaggage]

[ They've gotten entwined in each other's heads pretty well before, but never as deep as this. And even beyond that, it's... it's the first time they've chosen to continue it past when they needed it. It's a brand of intimacy that Sam never expected to want, but he does.

Sam's free hand slides into Bucky's hair, just resting there - he'd like to pull Bucky into a hug, honestly, but for the moment he's only going with ways they've touched before, something that will be at least a little familiar. Ease them both into it, maybe. His eyes slip shut as he gently rests his forehead against Bucky's, doing physically what he'd done mentally just moments ago.

He likes the way Bucky imagines the wings, and there's a trickle of warmth across their connection, adding just a hint of his own to it. ]

[bracchium]

[To Bucky's own surprise, he doesn't shy away from the touch. In fact it almost feels natural that Sam should be as physically tangled with him as they are mentally. He leans his forehead against Sam's, eyes shut in such deep contentment he might fall asleep right here. He hasn't gotten much rest since waking up from his pod.

The trickle of warmth across the bond adds a flare of gold to the tips of the wings, blending with the cool blues and greys of Bucky's foundation to create a strangely vibrant jade.

He likes it. Sure, the colors aren't quite as gorgeous as those in Sam's mind, but it's a start at least.]