station72 | semi-open;

CHARACTERS: Bucky, Sam, Steve, and guests
WHERE: The Gardens
WHEN: Backdated to D040-idk 45ish?
SUMMARY: After another death in the nest, Bucky feels the need to run.
WARNINGS: Nightmares, talk of violence, etc.

[Death in the Nest never comes easy. Anakin's had been so violent and sudden and now Aoba's seemingly the opposite. Something planned and slow and when the pain of the loss surges through the Nest, Bucky's left shuddering in its wake. He can't stay here, that's all he knows in the moment as he surges from his quarters. His backpack is heavier than he remembers as he hefts it over his shoulder. However, he's only a dozen feet down the hall before a conversation with Sam springs to his mind. Over shared drinks, he agreed to think about not running, about camping, about seeking offered help when this urge rises.

But he can't bring himself to search for help directly. Not when all he can focus on is the pain of a purposeful death rocking through his nerves.

And yet his feet bring him to the Gardens, to dirt crunching under his boots instead of the darkness of the farthest corners of the Station. He's reminded again of Sam, of their talk of camping, and he quietly sends up a ping of his location to both his broodmate and Steve. The impression of his panic colors the leaves of the trees around him, burning incandescent over the link.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[The Gardens aren't large enough that he could ever hope to truly isolate himself from the rest of the Nest. The voices that clamor in his head seem quieter, but none have come across the trio camped out in a grove of trees. Not until now, that is. Bucky glances up at the sound of crunching soil, his nerves worn and strung tight but still very much alive and well.

They have company.]

[ Sam knows who it is even before the sound echoes out - he and Clint can barely hide their presence from each other even when they try, after all - but he doesn't quite make it back from his walk around the edge of the trees in time to warn Bucky before Clint's close enough to make noise.

Still, Sam comes to stand next to Bucky, the feathers of his mind reaching out absently to brush across his. ]

It's just Clint. He's not as sneaky as he thinks he is.

[ Or, more likely, he knows how stupid sneaking up on soldiers and ex-assassins would be and isn't even trying to be sneaky, but still. ]

Edited 2017-06-25 01:06 (UTC)

[Sam's presence eases the raised hackles in Bucky's mind. He hasn't spent as much time around Clint, but the glimpses he's seen through Sam give him a good impression. Still, he's not ready to talk to much of anyone outside of Sam and Steve. Between the nightmares and the continued aching from the death of a nestmate, the urge to run spikes through his nerves.]

[ It's hard to hide his presence from Sam, but really -- Clint rarely tries anyway. With Barnes, it's different. Mind a blip, footsteps purposefully placed to offer a heads up. He's well aware of how stupid sneaking up on ex-assassins is. ]

You're just jealous, man.

[ A joke, not quite an ice breaker but definitely meant to diffuse some of the tension. Whether it works or not is debatable. Still, Clint's gaze slots over, and he offers a nod, lazy acknowledgement. ]

Barnes.

[ Sam shifts a little, just enough that the back of his knuckles brush against Bucky's - an offer, just in case he wants something to ground him a little more. He knows that Bucky's not all that up for company right now, but he also knows that Clint's... got some things in common with him, and they might have a pretty unique understanding.

And selfishly, he's glad to see Clint. He chuckles, shooting Clint a tiny smirk. ]

Dunno, man, what's there to be jealous of? [ Sam reaches out with his other hand, making a grabby motion. ] Did you at least bring the feather twins?

[ He'd had to leave the pair of alien birdlings that Bucky got him when he came running to answer Bucky's call - he trusts Clint to look after them, of course, but he misses them.

And it might not be a bad thing for Bucky to see them. ]

[Bucky stares over at Clint with hooded eyes before sending a glare Sam's way. He's not ready for this, he's not fit company for anyone not already knee-deep in his issues. On his bad days, Bucky barely spares a word for Sam and Steve, much less a relative stranger. The brush against his knuckles offers little comfort with the humming of anxiety in his throat. The mention of the birds catches his attention, but he tries to hide it behind a furrowed brow. He misses them too, the little bastards, and someone must have been caring for them while Sam's been away attending to the walking disaster. Guilt quickly silences the annoyance and anger that briefly springs up. He was the one who had to drag Sam out here.]

[ Yeah, no way he missed the byplay even if Clint wasn't a spysassin.

He's mostly stayed out of Barnes' hair here, remembering too clearly Natasha gut-shot, and knowing the too similar issues they've got simmering in their heads. Easier to keep your head in one place if you're not melding with another guy with mind control problems. But, but Sam's fond of him, and it's maybe time. So he keeps still and casual, waiting for Barnes to assess danger and move on. Rolls his eyes at the over the top grabby motion Sam makes, even as Clint steps forward to let him gather up the suddenly noisy animals. ]

You're spoiling them.

[ Mock-grumpy, even as he settles back, nearly unburdened. It's also pretty clear that Clint is joking. He scans the camp curiously, head-cocked, thoughtful. ]

A pity you guys don't have s'mores.

[ Don't give him that look, Bucky, Clint doesn't count as company.

Or at least, he doesn't count as company to Sam, and sometimes it's hard for Sam to remember that just because the two of them occupy the biggest parts of his mind, that it's hard for him to find the edges of where he ends and they begin - it doesn't mean that the two of them know each other anymore than the echoes that they can pick up from Sam's mind. An apology curls out across Bucky's mind when Sam picks up that anger, following by something closer to it's fine.

Sam came because he wanted to. With the two of them both right by him - more than ever the wind of his mental link is tinged with static, and the feathers feel closer to the fletching of an arrow. Maybe it's selfish to want them both physically close the way he has them mentally, but he does.

When he eagerly gathers up the two birds from Clint, he immediately sets one of them on Bucky's shoulder. ]

Someone ate all the alien marshmallows, unless you've got a stash.

[If Bucky has to put up effort to his mental shielding, he counts that as company in his mind, but he won't protest. He's half-turned away from Sam to go back to his notebook of sloppy sketches when a pair of talons dig into the shoulder of his thermal shirt. He glances over to the bloom of color there and the bright chirping that preludes pecking at his chin. With a smile, he chuckles at the little bird and offers a quiet,] Okay, okay. Got the message.

[Not that that soothes the bird's pecking or chirping as it continues to needle Bucky's jaw with its beak.]

You bring any food for them with you? [He shifts to look right at Clint, straight to brass tacks.]

[ It's cool Bucky, Clint isn't going to draw that much attention. Instead, Clint's mouth slopes with a fond little grin as he watches the both of them with their bird-children. Who would've guessed, but it's pretty adorable. ]

Yeah, yeah, I've probably got something.

[ He takes a second to dig around in his pockets, before Clint pulls out something that's a space equivalent of a hotpocket. A pause, before he shrugs. ]

I've got some jerky, too?

semi-open;

open {guests}

{clint; guest starring sam}

o7

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