station72 | mental link; after the riding events

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mental link; after the riding events

[ Sam's mental presence is accompanied by the sweep of feathers and the rush of wind as he focuses in on his connection to the Nest, occassionally dotted with a faint hint of static or the glint of stars. ]

( There's more than a few of us going at this mission in our own way, so I figure it can't hurt to check in. I don't got a lot this early in the game, but if anyone wants what I've found out about our hosts or the other envoys or what I've been doing to get it, I'll pass it on. This ain't a trade kind of thing - I'll tell you whether or not you wanna let me know what you've been up to. But if you don't mind sharing, hell, I'll take it. )

[ They're a paranoid bunch here, Sam knows that. He'd rather get what little he's been able to find out to people who might be able to do something with it than insist on getting something back. ]

( If you'd rather do it in person, just tell me when or where. I'm pretty sure I heard something about Adra making us all dinner later, so that might not be a bad time either. )

[ On an OOC note, if you only want info sharing and would rather handwave the interaction or just want to know what Sam would share, hit me up on the first comment to this post! ]

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[Bucky's getting to his feet when Sam reaches through the brood link to hold onto him, to anchor him in the here and now. Seven-eight. He's rusty, hasn't practiced in what feels like forever.]

( Lost you. ) [It surges out of him, unbidden in the face of the electric sensation wracking his nerves. He's not sure if he should sit or stand, if he should run again or stay.

The Soldier swings his metal arm into his opponent, a fellow soldier struggling with the serum. The Soldier doesn't hold back as he brings his fist down again and again. But then there's a knife in the other man's hand, flashing toward him. The Soldier is too slow and fire erupts between his ribs.

He lost.

His feet go out from under him as arms curl under his shoulders and drag him back toward his pod.

He lost.]

( Never. )

[ It's an immediate, kneejerk response, because no way in hell has Bucky lost Sam. They're gonna have to practice breathing more together later - he can feel how rusty that is Bucky, it doesn't help if you don't practice - but right now he can guide them through it, breathing slow and steady.

Right now all that matters is reminding Bucky that Sam's here, that he doesn't have to do this alone. He won't ever have to, not as long as Sam's got something to say about it.

The memory pulls at Sam, both through the brood link and through his protectiveness of Bucky, but he lets it go. It's in the past, and there's nothing he can do about it now. What he can do is try to prove that it's not gonna happen again.

And he understands more, now, why Bucky runs at the end of a mission, more than just the overwhelming feeling of all those voices - no one is ever gonna lock Bucky away again.

He's almost completely in their broodbond now, mind curled around Bucky's as he holds onto him. ]

( I'm right here, sunshine, I'm not going anywhere. Focus on me, on your coin. )

[Sam's response does little to comfort the cascade of nervous energy slamming into Bucky from all sides. He can't do this. He can't breathe. He doesn't want to be locked away, doesn't want to lose what he has with Sam, but he lost. There's nothing he can do about it; he needs to give this up, to not be selfish.

Don't put him away, please.

There's little filtering when Sam steps fully into their broodlink. Instead of the usual blizzard or the snow surrounding a jade tower, the landscape is no longer a landscape. Bloody steel tiles stretch from corner to corner, a series of pods line one side, and the other a row of cells, bars holding back shadows of the past. For all intents and purposes, Bucky is mentally back underground, back in Siberia with no visible way out. Trapped. Locked away.

He turns the coin in his hand, but it's so difficult to focus on anything. Digging his fingers into the grooves on the side don't ease the panic either. He can't do this. Not again.]

[ He's prepared for the frozen wasteland, for a blinding storm or the boiling heat of the programming - but the bloody steel tiles and the cells trip him up momentarily. He stumbles, briefly, and then grabs hold of their brood bond as he anchors himself in Bucky's mind, letting himself occupy the spaces where it feels like he belongs.

No.

Nothing is gonna lock either of them away ever again, not if Sam has any say about it. And all right, yeah, it's not like he thinks he's magically gonna be able to protect both of them from everything in the future, but right now - right now all that matters is pulling them both out of this.

As Sam moves more completely into Bucky's mind, there's the sensation of him standing next to him, wings curled around them both like he can ward off anything that comes near them. There's a wordless impression in his mind, a determination and a quiet protectiveness, something close to don't you dare fucking give up on this Bucky you said you wouldn't-

He pulls on Bucky, trying to tug his attention away from the prison of his mind and onto their connection, and Sam himself. ]

( I'm not something that's gonna sit here and let you give it up, sunshine. Stay with me. )

[Bucky is already deep in his mind, a few paces away, surrounded by the shadows. Underneath him, the steel tiles groan and sections fragment to reach up for his ankles, halting him where he's standing. Panic rains down upon him until he feels a presence beside him. Sam. A momentary surge of relief is quickly replaced by a bone-deep grief of loss. Sam's here, but Bucky's already lost him. In his mind, one of the shadows transforms into Shiro.

I love him echoes in the dark and Bucky's stomach drops. He can't compete with that, can't compete with Shiro. Instead of a caring, compassionate leader, Bucky is a self-inflicted outcast, someone entirely unable to help anyone with anything.

It'd not giving up so much as it is accepting the outcome, accepting his loss. He moves quietly across the steel as more tangles about his legs. The only place for him now is a pod.]

[ Realization strikes as soon as Sam sees the shadow of Shiro in Bucky's mind. That's what this is about, Bucky thinking that he's lost to Shiro - as though Sam was a prize to be won by whoever was most deserving of it, but he'll circle back to that later if he needs to - as though there was only room in Sam's life for one person.

As though loving either of them meant he couldn't love the other and that's - that's fair, honestly. That's something he needs to be better about, that's something he needs to accept. That he needs to own up to and stop pretending like if they just don't talk about anything, it means there's nothing to talk about.

Sam moves with Bucky, grabbing his hand and lacing their fingers together as he pulls.

Whatever panic he might be feeling he funnels into determination, into the bone deep need to stay near Bucky. ]

( The only one who can decide where your place is gonna be is you ) [ Is what he says, but what he feels - well, what he feels is that, only it's all mixed up in feelings that edge the line between protective and possessive, that would never say you're mine and I'm yours because Bucky's not an object to be owned -

But Sam keeps pace with him anyway. He's not moving from Bucky's side. ]

( My place is with you. )

[Sam pulls on Bucky's wrist but the latter doesn't move. The steel biting into his ankles claws up his legs and he feels utterly trapped in the flashback, in the depths of Siberia. There's no escaping, not this time. His steady breathing has fallen away entirely, the coin in his hand forgotten. He continues to walk slowly toward the pods, to where bullet holes have pierced each and left its occupant dead.

This was his fault. There was no army coming to destroy the world, the fight in the airport was for nothing, Sam sent to the Raft for not reason.

The tape of Howard and Maria's death plays on the stretches of flat, bloodied steel. The Soldier breaking two people without blinking an eye. The reflections of static dance across the floor, on Bucky's skin and the amber pods.]

[ No. No, they're not doing this right now, they're not gonna argue over whose fault the fallout from the Accords was and whether Sam made the right decision and why the hell he was sent to the Raft - Sam refuses to go there, because it's a conversation they need to have when Bucky's mind is a little less of a mess than it is right now, when their relationship is back on more stable ground.

It doesn't matter right now, anyway.

The only thing that matters is keeping Bucky here.

Sam stops moving, wrapping his wings around them both and planting their tips firmly into the ground, slicing through metal like it was butter and anchoring himself there. He hauls Bucky in, flooding their brood connection with warmth and filling Bucky's mind with as much of Sam's presence as possible in a silent look at me, I'm here, I'm real. ]

( I'm never gonna leave you. You got two options here, Bucky - either you come back with me or I'm going with you. )

[The cries of Maria Stark echo around them while Howard asks "Sergeant Barnes?" again and again. Howard Stark's son asks if he remembers them, as if Bucky didn't walk around with the living graves in his head every day. He remembered all of them and beside them on the steel floor, each victim is killed in turn by phantom versions of himself. But they were all him, all him killing innocent people, people with sons like Howard, sons who grieved the loss of their mothers.

And Bucky is too selfish to let go of one person. He has no right to be selfish.

Sam surrounds him, warm and bright and everything opposite of the bloodbath ensuing around them. The wings don't block out the screams, the begging.

He killed all of them. He tried to kill Sam, tried to kill Steve. And Sam Anders, Kylo Ren, the robbers on the Waypoint. And Sam again.

No. No, he can't allow himself to be selfish when there are others who love Sam. He can't allow Sam to meet the same demise as the rest of his victims. He doesn't look up at Sam, mentally or physically, can bring himself to look at him. Bucky got him locked up for no reason; all the other Soldiers were dead.]

[ Sam put himself in the Raft, their shitty government that doesn't give a damn about any of them once they're no longer useful put his ass in the Raft.

He doesn't say that, but he doesn't have to, not with their minds so connected. The impression of it is there, anyway. Zemo played them all, and Sam's not ever gonna blame the guy who tried to help best he could with the information he had. ]

( They took everything from you; you got every damn right to be selfish. And you know what? So do I. )

[ His wings draw Bucky in closer, feathers warm and soft behind the strength of the hug, and he tangles his fingers in Bucky's hair. ]

( I won't lose you, sunshine. I can't. I'm selfish, all right, and I need you. )

[ He lets it all pour out. How much he's come to depend on Bucky being here, the hope Bucky gives him, the way he draws on Bucky's strength when he feels out of his depth, the comfort he feels from Bucky's hand in his. Just how deep their connection goes, how much of Sam is in their brood bond - how much Sam loves him.

Sam doesn't know if it'll be enough to pull Bucky out, to drown out the voices, but he's hoping it'll at least be enough to get Bucky to look at him - and that there can't be any doubt about the way that he feels, not when he isn't holding any of it back. ]

[As Sam draws closer, Bucky tries to pull away. He doesn't deserve this: the comfort, the warmth, the... everything about Sam. But Sam says something that brings Bucky back in. This isn't about what Bucky does or doesn't want, what he does or doesn't deserve. In this moment, all of this focuses in on Sam, what Sam wants and needs. It's strange that now, of all the times that Sam has told him he needs Bucky, that the sentiment finally begins to sink in.

He shifts his gaze to meet Sam's. Around him, the flashbacks dim, flickering, but the cries for help, the begging, doesn't die out. Snow drifts in from beyond the reach of steel, frosting the edges of Sam's wings.

Most days, he doesn't feel like he can do anything, that he's more baggage than help. They've had this conversation before, but Bucky isn't the best at listening, he knows.]

[ It is about what Bucky wants, if only because Sam wouldn't be pushing like this if he and Bucky weren't in each others' minds enough for him to know that Bucky did want this - but no, it's not just about what Bucky wants. They're equals here, in the strength of their brood bond if no where else, and Sam has never been afraid of being honest with Bucky.

Sam doesn't pity him. He doesn't even sympathize with him, not really - empathy is closer, if anything. None of this is about him being here because he feels like he has to.

He can feel it, the moment that the way Sam feels start to finally sink in a little, and the warmth that blazes from him when Bucky meets his gaze is more than enough to keep the frost at bay for the moment. ]

( If I didn't want to be around you, I wouldn't be. I sure as hell wouldn't track your dumb ass down all the time if I didn't want to spend time with you - I've told you before, man, I ain't that selfless. )

[ His fingers slide through Bucky's hair, petting a little, as he holds Bucky's gaze. ]

( The symbiote might have made us broodmates, but I chose to deepen my connection with you. I chose this, Bucky, I want this, and every damn day I know I'd make the same choice. You help more than you can ever know. )

[Bucky listens to Sam's explanation, keeping eye contact even as doing so becomes uncomfortable. You are a weapon. Weapons aren't equals. No. Sam considers them equals, continues to hold him, petting his braids despite everything the programming tells him. On the same token, the lock of eye contact grounds him; the voices around them diminish and the bloodstained steel flickers. More snow blows in through the holes as the flashbacks lose their hold on his mind. Under their feet, foliage springs up through the cracks, pushing apart the tiles.

When he hears his name- his real name, the only thing he had after HYDRA, the steel all but disappears, leaving behind the usual snowy terrain and the jade tower in the distance. He likes his nicknames, doesn't mind them really, but hearing his name is special.

Sam chose this, loves Bucky as much as Bucky loves him. Sam wouldn't hang around or keep working with him if he didn't want to. Confusion still persists as he silently considers Shiro.

Didn't Sam love him too? How could there be two victors? In HYDRA nothing of the sort ever happened. Bucky shakes his head to drive away the voice of Pierce and a dozen other commanders ordering him back to his pod.</small?]

Edited 2017-09-27 14:19 (UTC)

[ There's no small of amount of relief when the flashback starts to melt away and the familiar landscape of Bucky's mind creeps in - or when Bucky continues to make eye contact.

Even if it's mental, it's - Sam's already accepted that Bucky meeting his gaze, let alone holding it, is always gonna make him catch his breath a little. They are equals, and feeling Bucky challenge the whisper that tells him that they aren't - that's worth everything.

So is Bucky slowly starting to believe Sam when he says he's here because he wants to be, even if it pushes things back into territory where Sam's a hell of a lot less certain. ]

( I'm not... good at this. I don't know if I got any answers here, I'm just trying to figure this out as I go and hope I don't fuck things up too bad. ) [ There are a lot of things that Sam has his shit together about, but this isn't one of them. He's flying blind here, especially with all of the symbiote complications, and right now he figures all he can do is his best and hope it's enough. ]

( Shiro and me - we're complicated, too, but yeah, I love him. But caring about both of you doesn't mean I care about either of you less. I'm not HYDRA. I'm not looking for you to win or lose, I'm just looking for you. I don't- ) [ Now'd usually be the part where he'd duck his head, or lean in to rest his forehead against Bucky's - but he wants to keep the eye contact, to keep him grounded. And he'll remember how much Bucky likes his name being said. ] ( I don't know how to describe what we've got. Hell, I don't even know if there is a way to define it. All I've got is that I love you, Bucky. )

[After all that, Bucky doesn't know what to say. At first he's confused, trying to fit the idea of Sam loving two very different people into what he knows. Then again, he has zero expertise when it comes to friendship, relationships, and anything else past those. In fact, he's so focused on trying to understand everything that the steel flickers one more time before disappearing into the usual snowy tundra. Underneath them, however, the flora remains uncovered by the gentle fall of snow and a combination of red and deep blue Lisanthus begin to bloom.

Bucky doesn't know how to describe them either. What they share is deeper than friendship, past the camaraderie that bonds soldiers in a unit. What he does know is that whatever it is between them is different from what Sam shares with Shiro. Maybe that's what makes this all okay. Sam isn't trying to replicate what he has with Shiro with Bucky or vice versa. This isn't HYDRA, this isn't a force of manufactured super soldiers where only one can survive.

This would be the time when any normal person would echo Sam's profession, but Bucky struggles. There's no hiding the glow of affection behind the confusion, but he can't seem to put words to it.

The only thing he can offer, though, is a quiet] ( Me too. )

[He means that he loves Sam, too, that he's also flying blind, that he doesn't know how to describe what they have.]

[ Honestly, the flowers blooming underneath them kind of says it for Bucky. Sam's not someone who really knows the meanings behind flowers, and he's not a hundred percent sure he could say what they were - but he knows that he's never seen them in Bucky's mind before. Sam's just gonna assume that it's because of this, because of them, that Bucky's mental landscape is changing.

This is... so much deeper than friendship. Hell, even before the symbiote there was nothing simple about his and Bucky's relationship, and if he's honest with himself, there probably wasn't ever gonna be anything simple about it. With everything they've been through, and the brood bond on top of it - hell, with everything Bucky is, he never had a chance at not loving Bucky.

Or Shiro, for that matter. He could never replicate what he has with either of them with anyone else - and he'd never want to.

Sam doesn't need words, not with Bucky. He likes them, sure, and he'll admit to always getting a little bit of a thrill when Bucky verbalizes, but they don't need them. It's the way they work, and Sam likes that, too.

It means he can push Bucky a little, when he needs it, but even when he can't verbalize, Sam'll still be able to tell how he's feeling, what he wants or doesn't want. ]

( I still want this, what we've got. How about we try to figure it out together? ) [ He doesn't pull himself out of Bucky's mind, but he shifts enough of his focus that he can reach out to physically lace their fingers together. ]

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mental link; after the riding events

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