station72 | mental link, day 22

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mental link, day 22

( Got some information for you guys - Annie was good enough to get some of her makeshift spycams going, and we set ‘em up with the leaders of the envoys. Activated them last night. )

[ There’s a curl of gratitude for those who went along with his plan, for those who spun stories or distractions or contributed to convincing the leaders of the envoys that the trinkets of Annie goo were part of a mourning ritual. Is he gonna talk about the fact that he basically disappeared after that until they boarded the airship? Nah. Instead, he jumps right into it. ]

( Didn’t get a lot from the Carpathans or the Meradans, unless you wanna know what the inside of Saridian Black’s room looks like or what other gifts people’ve been giving him, or see more of the Meradans trash talking each other while playing games.

Got the same Second that Annie saw last time, who’s friends with the Seconds I know, and this time he was with Ysiddia Cabrielle. He’s her son, and they were talking with a Second from one of the other Houses about the murders and the Circle having its work cut out for it when we get to the Red Coast.

And the Descendents - pretty sure we got a couple of them talking about the murders. They were wondering if “they” were discovered, who discovered them and what their intentions were - might have something to do with the last time we spied on people through Annie, and she saw the Carpathans that got killed talking about new friends. That, and blood debts and someone named Casiria, and that no one in Black’s retinue could know about it. Didn’t know this until a little bit ago, but guess what information got passed onto Black’s retinue? )

[ His mental “tone” is deliberately neutral there, but the difference from the usual warmth to his mental link is probably pretty telling. ]

( One other thing, about the circle that was found burned in the ground a while back when we were still running around on the ground and the tracks next to it - Rhan said the circle doesn’t look local, but the tracks appear Rabadocean. Hard to pin down more than that so far, except they don’t really match the Hypyrians. )

[ Is he fixating on that a little too much, to be thinking about it still? Maybe, but he's not gonna let it go. ]

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(These Descendants wondering if they were discovered or the bodies...?)

[He pauses, in thought. Just bear with him a second here, Sam, he's going somewhere with this:]

(People used to think when 'aliens' would land on Earth, their ships would burn or press shapes into the ground they landed on. Most often, it was a circle shape.)

(... think maybe whatever was out there... wasn't part of the party?)

[ There's a hum of consideration as Sam thinks about that, and then the mental equivalent of a shrug.

He can't be sure, honestly - he'd thought they were talking about the Carpathans being discovered and then killed, but who knows? His mind opens a little more, beckoning Shiro in with an offer - see for yourself?

Shiro's other comment gets a soft huff, amusement curling out. ]

( I'd say I can't believe we're talking about crop circles, but back home we got aliens who travel by rainbow bridges that burn circles in the ground, too, so - yeah, that's exactly what I think. Just can't tell if someone joined the party or left it. )

[His own response is as close to a nod as possible, given it's mental and all. Out of everyone, it's almost like Sam doesn't need to ask anymore.]

(And we have aliens who open and close their own wormholes.)

(Is there any way to get some kind of headcount of who should be here, do you think?)

[ There's some people he doesn't ask anymore, who're in his head so much that it's likely that they already know what he knows - and if they don't, there's no question that they want it. Shiro's... not quite there yet, but he's close. And it's easy to pull up the information they've got and let Shiro see it. ]

( From all the envoys, you mean? We can try, but I don't know if we'll have much more luck than Bucky's had trying to match shoe prints. )

(He's been working on shoe prints?)

[Color him proud of Bucky. And he's not going to hide it, either.]

(It's worth a shot, I think.)

[ It's - nice, feeling that pride for his broodmate, coming from someone other than himself. For a moment he almost reaches out, looping Bucky into the conversation to let him feel it, too, but - maybe it's not the right time. Sam likes to think he knows where they all stand on an individual basis with each other, but he's not sure where the three of them stand together. ]

( He wanted to help. ) [ Is what he goes for instead, before he considers how they'd even go about trying to get a headcount. ] ( Somehow I don't think that just asking the leaders is gonna work. Maybe we can pretend we're doing a census in light of the murders. )

(Yeah... I'm not surprised.)

[When he'd last seen Bucky, he'd wanted to help Sam, too. Granted, he'd asked Shiro to do it, but the intent was clear. And it meant a lot to hear. To know.]

(That might work. Say we're doing it to help keep an eye on our numbers -- so that no one ends up dead without noticing again.)

[ Bucky'd wanted to help everyone, not just Sam - though he's not sure how true that is anymore, after what'd happened to Lavellan.

Not where Sam wants to go right now, though. ]

( Like you said, it's worth a shot. We can try to figure something out. ) [ There's a moment of hesitation, then Sam gently floods into their connection a little stronger. ] ( You free for a little bit? )

(Maybe we can see if someone like Lakshmi will go to them. She's... got this diplomacy thing down better than I do.) [Or any of the others, really.]

[His head tilts, at the sudden presence. The more intense presence. Not that he minds it.]

(Yeah. I am. Everything okay?)

[ Sam huffs out a little laugh at the question, warmth curling around Shiro's mind. ]

( There's no easy way to ask to talk to someone about something, is there? Everything's the same as it's been the last couple of days, I just thought we should talk about a few things. )

(You know I'll listen. Whatever you need to say... here I am.)

[ This is... definitely an in person kind of thing, so Sam hums an acknowledgement as he comes to find Shiro. He greets him with a kiss, easy and absent, before he sits down. ]

Normally I'd give you the option of long version or short version, but here it's gonna have to be the long version because I'm probably not gonna like your reaction either way, and that's not on you.

[ Sam leans in a little, curling his hand around the back of Shiro's neck as if to make his point. ]

I mean it. This is my shit, and it's nothing on you, okay?

[He leans into it a little. Into the kiss, and the general presence. It's grounding, soothing. Unlike anything else.]

[He feels like he's going to need that, if Sam is acting like this.]

... Can you at least, tell me what this is about?

[It's not reassuring to hear those words. He chews at his lower lip, but doesn't move away. Leaning in.]

You'd tell me if I've done something, right?

[ Sam rests his hand on Shiro's knee, squeezing just a little. ]

Man, of course I would, it's nothing you've done. It's - where I was before I ended up here, and how I got there. I know you’ve felt that there’s some stuff I wasn’t ready to tell you, and hell if I know if I’m really ready now, but - [ He huffs out a soft laugh, shaking his head. ]

You already got some of it at the funeral, and I want you to hear it from me, not when I'm not in a state to keep it back. I just didn’t want you to think of me differently, but I don’t want you to not think of my differently, either, and - I’m just confusing you more, huh?

[He listens. To all of the starting and stopping. Before he reaches down, gently taking the hand off his knee.]

[Holding it.]

You are. So... is there a beginning for you to start at, with this?

[The unsaid reply being that he's here. He'll listen. And with Sam's hand in his, he's not going anywhere, is he?]

[ He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. ] My whole life story, maybe?

[ All right, he can do this. He pulls in another breath, lets it out, and starts. ]

You know I retired after I lost Riley, then got back in and became an Avenger. I got back in because SHIELD - [ There's an impression in Sam's mind here that makes re-telling it a little easier, an understanding of what SHIELD is - a government organization, something like the CIA and the FBI and Homeland Security, there to protect them. Along with that is HYDRA, a concept that Shiro's probably gotten before from Bucky - Nazis, genocidal maniacs, the ones who thought turning Bucky into a weapon was a good idea. ] - was corrupt. HYDRA'd been in there the whole time, pulling strings behind the scene, and some friends found out and asked me to help them. We took it down, I eventually joined the Avengers, but -

[ There's snapshots of the hellicarriers falling into the river, of a falling city and an explosion that Wanda hadn't even started, she just hadn't been able to contain it completely, and people blamed her, blamed them- ]

People're always afraid of what they don't understand, and they're always looking for someone to blame when things don't go right and you can't save everyone. It's easy for those to combine. The UN supported a drafting up of the Accords, run by a task force - people who're gonna tell us when we could go and when we couldn't, force us to get involved if we didn't think we should and hold us back if we did. And it's not -

[ He pauses to breath, taking in a breath and letting it out before continuing. ]

I don't think we shouldn't be accountable for what we do, that we shouldn't take responsibility. But the people they got running this task force - [ There's snippets again, a man asking where Banner and Thor were and comparing them to missing nuclear warheads, another man laughing at the idea of having a lawyer, of civil rights. ] - it was HYDRA and SHIELD all over again. They wanted to pull our strings, and half of us said no. Then shit went down, and they didn't believe us.

We went anyway. And when they sent the other half of our team to stop us, to bring us in - I made the call to stay behind, so the two of us who had the best chance at stopping a whole lot of people from getting hurt could make it out. Got myself and most of my team captured to give them a chance.

[ He has to pull back a little, because there's so much anger and guilt there, tangled up in the feeling of I was up there just to watch and I tried I could have helped why didn't you let me- ]

They put us in the Raft. It's an underwater prison, middle of nowhere, meant for supervillains. Tried to get information out of us, but I - [ There's a small, bitter laugh. ] Wouldn't have told them a damn thing, no matter what they did, until someone I thought was a friend came to see us. Told me he'd been wrong, that he believed us, promised he'd go as a friend and help. He beat the shit out of my best friend. Cut off Bucky's arm. Bucky'll tell you that he had a good reason, but people like us, the ones who choose to put on something that makes us better than what we are - we don't get to have reasons that make us do something like that, or we're exactly what they were afraid of.

Steve broke us out eventually. We went on the run, went into hiding. Became fugitives in about a hundred and seventeen or so different countries.

[ He doesn't say I'm not a superhero, I'm just another criminal, because he doesn't believe that, not really, but it's - he has moments, and now is one of them when it hovers there so strongly that he might as well have said it. ]

[In all honesty, he doesn't know what to expect. Or how to react. Short of sitting there, patiently, listening to the words fall out. Presence calm and steady as the stars in his head. His hands, his fingers, twine through Sam's. Anchoring them both as the other man so often does.]

[My turn.]

[Not pushing, not rushing. Listening with the patience of something or someone perfectly okay waiting for the moment to come. Watching the world and the words slide by until he's needed. Until he can fully understand. He shuts his eyes, occasionally, at the bleeds of imagery. Accepting it all as readily as anything he's ever loaded onto Sam -- onto my partner.]

[It's not as if he feels nothing. As if he's a bland bystander. But Sam needs to tell the story. He needs the words to come out without interruption, and, above all else Shiro needs to listen. To give him that.]

[It's the only thing he's wanted.]

[So all the feelings coming through, the indignation on the young woman -- Wanda's -- behalf. The irritation at the notion of people outside a fight dictating how it should be run. Fear and Anger tangled up like knotted strings at the idea of people being compared to weapons... He feels it. He doesn't bother hiding it at all. All of it though, twined through stars like the trails of nebulae. Background -- present, reacting, quiet.]

[At least until more of Sam's feelings come through. Until Got myself and most of my team captured and the sudden distance sparks through like lightning tinged in green in his head. Then his eyes widen, his breath picks up, and he reacts.]

It's okay... [... is automatic. Is reaching out as Sam pulls back. It's okay. Be angry. Be guilty. It's nothing Shiro hasn't felt before. Sam would never tell him not to feel. Never wants him to hold back. He's holding out the same thing in return. Refusing to turn away from those feelings slogging to the surface, stormclouds in the field of calm.]

[When he does move, it's to stand up. His hands don't leave where they're holding Sam's -- making it clear he's not leaving. He isn't going anywhere. Just moving. Shifting. Sitting on his knees between the other's feet, looking up at him. Making sure they can look each other in the eye when he says, quietly, sincerely:]

Believe it now. You're not a criminal. You aren't what they made you to be.

[I'm not what they made me to be - I won't be what they made me into -- is at the forefront of his thoughts, an echo, a pulse. Over the slow toss and stirring of something deeper. Something wanting to seek out the root of all this. The person, the source and stomp it out. To protect this.]

[Instead, actual, human fingers touch Sam's face. Pale, the nails a little picked here and there.]

[but people like us metal gleams out of the corner of his eye the ones who choose to put on something that makes us better than what we are armor white and black in memory we don't get to have reasons his hand on a button and the prisoner is disappearing into the stars that make us do something like that]

Stronger than this. Isn't that what you always tell me? We're stronger than this?

[He wants it to be forgiveness, but he doesn't know if that's what's right. If that's what Sam needs in this moment. Instead, for now, it will be understanding between the beats of blood in his fingertips and the warmth of the face under them.]

If I am... then so are you. If not so much more.

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mental link, day 22

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