it slows down;

[bracchium]

CHARACTERS: Bucky, you!
WHERE: The Red Coast!
WHEN: Day 026 morning and evening
SUMMARY: the bucket wakes up from his long nap
WARNINGS: mentions of violence, etc


[For Sam]

[Where there was once silence on Bucky’s end of the link, a slow, piercing scream takes its place. The shriek cuts in and out like static on a bad radio, but soon becomes steady and constant. Accompanied by gusting snow and biting wind, the noise grows and doubles before falling into disorganized static once more. Silence threatens to take hold, to swallow up all the discordant pieces. The brush of fir and pine sweep through the snow, but do little to provide structure to the quickly tumbling sections of awareness.

What’s happening? he doesn’t think out loud, but for some reason he doesn’t think he has to speak out loud. His lips are numb, dry, and stuck shut. He can’t seem to get them to move. Or perhaps they aren’t his lips after all.

His body is off balance, he considers. One side is heavier than the other, but he doesn’t know why.

Or who he is.

Who… who is he? Why does he feel like he’s drowning?]



[OTA; day]


[Bucky is never far from Sam, that much has not changed, but Bucky is quieter than before. Not only does the change in scenery make his head hurt, but there’s still too many missing pieces of his head right now. Still, he wants to check in on those he speaks with the most, even if that conversation might be one-sided. Being up and about also eases the bone-deep unease that he could fall asleep again at any instant.]




[OTA; evening]


By the evening, Bucky has remembered most of the events of the mission, at least those he was awake for. So the quiet, if dazed, friendliness of before has dimmed into something much sharper. He takes up a location near the edges of the camp and watches his fellow Nestmates which a great deal more apprehension. However, he at least has taken a stationary position, to watch over his broodmate’s tent.]

Comments

DAY

[shiro2hero]

[This is supposed to be a reprieve, but it's felt like the complete opposite. Instead of relaxing, he's just been a bundle of nerves. For Sam, and for Bucky -- who had become even more important since the hunt went south. He'd always liked the man, but since then...]

[The advantage here being all the jewelry making. All the places you could take part in distracting hobbies. Like finding some bit of spare metal conveniently ridged across the edges. Something he's spent more than a few hours toying with, lately.]

[It's the sudden presence of a familiar mind that makes his head jerk up from it now. Frowning for a moment before he ventures, gently:]

(Bucky?)

[bracchium]

[It takes Bucky a moment to recognize the sensation of Shiro's mind, to remember the conversations met on the road and in the station. Like fumbling in the dark, Bucky feels around for their link before brushing against it. There. He knows this man. They're friends. They're very similar. They spoke very recently, he thinks, standing back from a group, watching a silhouette move.

He tries to respond warmly, but the confusion still weighs too heavily on him.

Names, though, will always give him trouble.]

( You've got a metal arm. )

[shiro2hero]

(Yeah... yeah, I do.)

[Something isn't totally right here. There's an odd sort of gap. Like a bridge that won't let him cross. An emptiness where there should be images, feelings. Memories.]

[And his heart clenches a little in his chest.]

(It's Shiro. You... know my name at all?)

[bracchium]

[Bucky is, unfortunately, all too aware of the gap between them, of how names continue to give him trouble even after all this time. He wonders if it's a side effect of the decades of wiping or if he never had a thing for names to begin with, back when he was the other guy, the better Bucky.

What he does know is what Sam's told him: that this happens from time to time with Bucky's symbiote, that Bucky had been very stressed before falling asleep, that Bucky has memory problems when waking.]

( Shiro. )

[Bucky considers the name and the pieces of memory that come with it, although distant and foggy. Shiro has white hair. Shiro helped him the night of the funeral. Shiro's a pilot. They're... friends, he thinks.]

( Takes a bit. ) [He's referring to his memory, how the fragmented pieces take time to come together.]

[shiro2hero]

(It's okay.)

[It's okay to take a while. It's okay that it's not immediate. He's not going to judge. He's never fallen into one of those comas. Maybe he'd be the same. Given how much alike they are. Their memory problems, their trauma. He's in no place to make judgments.]

[Instead, he accepts it. Offers up a mental image of himself. White hair, the tired expression. Metal arm.]

[The real hand holding out Bucky's coin. Giving it back to him. Like he promised he would, back on the station. Back before this mission even started.]

[Friends. It's a good word for it right now.]

(Take your time. I'm not going anywhere.)

[bracchium]

[It's okay.

Bucky feels like he's heard that so many times already; people are so willing to give him a pass on his memory issues that it makes him wonder what might be lurking in them. Of course, he really has no choice but to accept that small forgiveness, considering they're apparently on a high-stakes mission with a tight margin of error. He's still not entirely certain what caused his four or five-day sleep, but it can't be anything nice.

However, the images provided by Shiro offer a scaffold to build Bucky's fragmented memories on, help to jog his memories. That's right. They're friends. He gave Shiro his coin after Shiro's broodmate fell asleep. Another burst follow: Shiro leaning on him as they move through a crowd, Shiro pale and confused in a hangar, and low conversations in the dark of the night.

Friends.]

( Where are you? ) [As he's kind of just gotten Sam to let him out of his sight for five seconds and it might be nice to back up the mental image with a real one.]

[shiro2hero]

[It's because you're his friend, Bucky. That's why it's okay. Because they are friends. Because his own brain is faulty on the memory front too. He doesn't know the extent of what's happened to the other man -- gets the impression Bucky doesn't know the whole of it, either. And that's okay.]

[Because neither of them really do. Do they?]

[How can he be anything but forgiving, when that connection is so similar? When he gets it. He offers up the image of himself on a bench in their supplied housing. Watching the skies. The feeling of starlight and cloud cover in the imagery -- me.]

(Here. I'll wait.)

[bracchium]

[The scenery offered by Shiro isn't inherently familiar; Bucky's not been awake for long. However, he follows their connection, moving through the barracks like a blind man until he comes across both the bench and Shiro. Seeing Shiro in person sets more memories in motion, easing some of the nerves that had bundled around reaching out toward nestmates. This is someone he's trusted in the past, someone he was and is friends with.

Bucky makes his way down to the bench and carefully takes a seat beside Shiro.]

( Sam said it's been a few days. )

[shiro2hero]

(He's right.)

[There's no real way to deny that Shiro perks up at seeing Bucky enter the room. Trusted -- a friend -- someone he knows, someone he can be at ease around. He feels his face relax, feels himself smile, almost rising before Bucky sits beside him. The feelings of relief and the general warmth of seeing someone you care for on their feet again, ever present in his mind.]

[He shifts a little. So his shoulder is pressing against the other man's.]

(I'm... really glad to see you're still with us.)

[bracchium]

[Bucky offers a small smile in return for those feelings of warmth and relief. He's still not entirely used to people wanting him around, but it's nice all the same. The press to his shoulder reminds him of the night of the funeral, of how they clung to each other in the dark as they watched their fellow Nestmates with a barely-constrained grief.]

( Anything happen? ) [Besides the obvious change of scenery.]

[shiro2hero]

(Some of the locals turned up dead.)

[The last few days were such a blur, it's hard to remember when exactly they lost contact with Bucky. At least for him, anyway. Maybe Bucky remembers that. But if not, he might as well update him.]

[He doesn't move away. Or pull back. The smile is encouragement, the lack of recoil. He really, genuinely is glad to see Bucky's face again. Feel the weight of his general presence.]

[... He hadn't realized he'd missed it. As much as he had.]

(We're sticking around this place for a while. Until they get something or other ready. Pretty quiet here -- there's even a beach, if you like watching waves.)

[bracchium]

[Damn. That's not good at all. Wasn't there something following them? Bucky's not entirely sure of anything right now. But here, sitting next to Shiro, he feels more at ease than by himself in this strange place. He supposes he'll have time to get used to their new quarters, if they stay for a while.

In regards to the beach, though, Bucky's less sure. He can't remember the waves. Part of him knows he's been to the beach, in Brooklyn, but he can't remember the waves.]

( Where are we? )

[shiro2hero]

(They call it the 'Red Coast'.)

[The weight of Bucky up against his side is a comfort to himself. Selfishly, he thinks. But also thinks nothing of gently putting a hand on his shoulder. Carefully, the move flickering in his thoughts before he does so.]

[Along with the imagery of red waves. Water the color of familiar red metal -- it's not blood, not in his thoughts. Nothing so morbid.]

[Just weird water. Alien water.]

[sizeofyourbaggage]

[ Sam sits by the cot where Bucky sleeps, one hand tangled in the feathers and braids of his hair. He's tense, alert, like any sudden movement might make him snap - he can't relax, he can't. He's had snippets of sleep, when those he trusts come to guard over Bucky so no one will take him, or tangle his mind up in theirs so he won't follow Bucky into a deeper sleep, but even that's been marred up by emptiness.

It's been less than a week, but it feels so much longer, and it hasn't gotten any easier not having Bucky there.

So the moment he feels something from Bucky's side of the connection, no matter how faint and fragmented and screaming, Sam grabs for it. He floods into their brood bond, desperate and searching, wrapping around him as tight as he can and pulling.

Sam hadn't realized what was happening when Bucky slipped away in enough time to grab him and hold on, but now - now he puts everything into it. Not again, not - he can't be up here just to watch, he won't let this take Bucky from him.

His fingers lace through Bucky's, and when he presses their palms together the flowers that he'd put in Bucky's hand are squished between them, but he doesn't care. ]

( Your name is Bucky Barnes. I'm Sam, we - I need you, stay with me. Hold on. )

[bracchium]

[Just as the static threatens to dwindle back into silence, an anchor reaches down into the darkness and pulls. It catches on all the fragmented pieces, tangles them like a net with a simple phrase. Your name is Bucky Barnes. I'm Sam. I need you. That's right. Bucky. Bucky and Sam. They fight, but Sam promised to always bring him back, to never leave him behind.

"Don't let them---" Flashes of bone saws and sparking metal fill his head as his limbs grow weak and heavy.

He's not sure he can do this, not when the weight he's dragging feels like too much. There's too many pieces, and a part of him doesn't want to carry all of them.

Frost sticks his eyelashes together and before he can get his feet under him, he's dragged from an amber pod toward a chair that hums like a lazy fan.

No. No. No, he doesn't want that. Not anymore. Don't make him.]

[sizeofyourbaggage]

[ No. Not again, not ever again. Sam'd promised that he'd keep Bucky safe, that he'd always come for him, and his mind murmurs that wordlessly as their brood bond flickers brighter.

He won't let this take Bucky from him again. And that's the thing, with the two of them - they may fight, they may push each other's buttons more than anyone else, but they don't have to carry all of this alone.

That's what Sam's there for, to help Bucky pick up the pieces. He lets himself sink completely into their broodbond, until his presence in Bucky's mind grows strong enough that he might as well be there with him - and then his arms wrap around him, wings flaring up protectively.]

( I'm here. You're not alone, you don't have to fight this alone. )

[bracchium]

[Bucky can feel that link in the darkness that shrouds nearly everything: a single bright line that dips into deep. And then there's someone standing beside him, someone he doesn't immediately recognize. Arms curl around him as wings unfurl, further lighting the black. With the extra illumination, he can see shattered glass littering the ground. It reflects the light and causes the glass to glitter.

He's not sure he's ever seen anything like it, but regardless, he'd not sure he can carry all the different pieces, not all at once.

He can't do this.]

( Sam. ) [He looks away, unsure how to even begin.]

[sizeofyourbaggage]

[ There's a dozen things that Sam wants to say, ranging from I missed you to I love you and don't you dare leave again, but his thoughts are tripping over themselves and he's too focused on trying to anchor Bucky here, trying to pull him back and help him pick up the pieces, to sort them out.

So he pushes his hand into Bucky's hair, leaning in to rest his forehead against Bucky's as he breathes, slow and even. ]

( You can do this. It's what we do, Bucky, we have each other's backs. ) [ Sam pulls Bucky in tighter, wings curling around them both. ] ( Come on, sunshine, stay with me. I can't do this without you. )

[bracchium]

[Here, deep in Bucky's head, sam doesn't need to say those things: they echo around the cavernous space as clear as bells. Just as he's turned away, Bucky turns back to face his guest. When he makes to respond, however, more roots from overhead descend sharply into the space, twisting down toward them. Each branch is dusted with snow that shakes free and speckles the brilliant glow of the glass.

There's trees up there, Bucky thinks, trying to remember why he's not more surprised by the revelation. Sam's embrace is warm, wings warmer, and inviting in comparison to the snow gathering at a faster rate.

No this isn't right. Snow shouldn't be in here. It should be piled on the surface, not underneath because... because...

Because underneath is where they kept him, he remembers more clearly, under the tundra and permafrost. He said he'd never go back.

On the surface, Bucky's eyebrows furrow and his breath quickens; he's waking up.]

[sizeofyourbaggage]

[ Sam's breath catches when Bucky turns back towards him, like he's afraid that if he breathes too hard, too loudly, he's gonna turn away again. He's gonna slip from Sam's grasp, and Sam's gonna lose him again and he can't -

But the trees are back, and suddenly Sam's breathing again. He can feel Bucky start putting the pieces together, start figuring it out - start waking up - He said he'd never go back.

Never, Sam's mind murmurs, and his fingers lace with Bucky's. ]

( Let's get out of here. )

[ He's saying it outloud, too - he thinks, maybe, it's hard to tell when he's so focused on their mental link, when he's so present inside Bucky's mind - but it doesn't matter. Sam'll pull Bucky out of there if he has to, grab him tight and carry him out, but they've always managed to do it together.

Bucky doesn't need Sam to fight his battles for him. Just to be there to lend him some strength, to get him to believe he's not alone, even if just for a moment. ]

[bracchium]

[Sam laces his fingers with him and his mind opens up further, the floor of fragments climbing together into walls of steel and jade. He's been here before, he realizes--- even as Sam pulls on him--- he's been here many, many times. Lights flicker on as Bucky's eyes move faster under his eyelids. No. He doesn't want to see this place again, he wants to leave.

Reaching up for golden light that is their link, he looks to Sam with eyes wild with fear. Don't make him stay here. Help him.

Steel crawls over itself, bending and folding into the beginnings of a chair.]

[sizeofyourbaggage]

[ Sam's there as Bucky's mind opens further, curling around him encouragingly. The desperation has faded, a little, like he's no longer quite afraid that if he doesn't hold on as tight as he can Bucky's gonna fade again - but there's still no way he's pulling back even the slightest bit.

Especially not when the scenery in Bucky's mind shifts, and becomes familiar.

No.

Their link fills with something fierce and protective, the kind of thing that Sam usually tries to curb because Bucky doesn't belong to him, but it's - he won't let anyone take Bucky, he won't, he didn't stay by Bucky's side to prevent that from happening to lose him now.

He shifts, putting himself in between Bucky and what's starting to become a chair, and wraps his wings around both of them to block it from sight. ]

( I got you, Bucky, I got you. We can get out of here; we've done it before. )

[bracchium]

[No. No, he's never going back. Bucky's posture stiffens but he trusts Sam, trusts in the sensation of heat that accompanies the body stepping between him and the jagged sight of the chair. Leave. How did he leave before? He remembers a fight in the darkness, with a man dressed in crimson and gold. There was an overhead silo door. They need to find the door.

Snow continues to fall and Bucky looks up. That's right. The holes from the roots have created exits. ]

( Come with me? )

[sizeofyourbaggage]

( Always. )

[ It's a response with no hesitation - and maybe Sam didn't even need to put it to words, with how strongly he feels that there's no where that Bucky could go that Sam wouldn't either go with him or try to pull him back, but he wanted to. He needs to, needs to make it firm in both of of their heads to remind Bucky that he's got Sam at his side, and to remind the the programming and whatever the hell it is that makes them fall asleep that Sam is always gonna fight for him.

His wings unfurl a little, ready to move as soon as Bucky does. ]

[bracchium]

[That sense of devotion is both familiar and not. There are glimpses of time together: fights, braiding, sleeping, and laughing. Overhead, the roots break away more of the ceiling, raining chunks around them. Time to go, if ever.]

( C'mon. ) [Bucky reaches up for one of the roots and it contracts, pulling him up toward the light and far, far away from the dark.

In Sam's grip, Bucky's eyelids flutter and then flick open as he blinks at the space around him. Someone's here with him.]

...Sam? [His voice is rough and heavy with confusion.]