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

[bracchium]

[Bucky lifts his arm to curl it about Sam's waist in return, to keep him tucked safe and sound against him. It makes sense that Sam would have difficulty sleeping without him, as much as Bucky doesn't like admitting it. They're so deep in each others' heads it would be akin to having a piece of them surgically removed and expected to continue like nothing happened.

He remembers stumbling in the sand, his gait uneven as his vision dims. Don't let them-

Sam of course took that seriously, kept him from any who might want to poke around in his head. The talk of murder brings up a sting of anxiety, the question of what did I do? lingering just under his skin. He shuts his eyes to breathe- seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven- before refocusing on Sam.]

Get some sleep.

[That much is obvious: that Sam is exhausted and in need of rest more than Bucky.]

[sizeofyourbaggage]

[ There's a barely a flicker of a muted denial when he feels Bucky's anxiety spike up, fading quickly into affection and appreciation when the breathing and counting settles into Sam as well.

He doesn't want to sleep, even though he can reluctantly admit that he needs it. He wants to stay here like this, with Bucky alive and conscious and remembering him, wants to bury himself into their brood bond until the memory of it aching and empty fades.

Sam grumbles a protest with the mental impression of a bird fluffing up its feathers disgruntledly, even as he shifts closer to Bucky to rest his forehead against Bucky's, eyes closed. ]

Thank you. For coming back.

[ For everything, really, but especially for that. For never giving up on either of them, despite a hell of a lot of reasons to and the programming that still shrieks in Bucky's mind and whispers in Sam's. ]

[bracchium]

[Bucky doesn't mind the fluffing of feathers or the small burst of affection. Sam seems exhausted and Bucky's more than willing to give Sam what he wants right now. Some nice sleep and emotions would do his broodmate well.]

Always.

[Because he made a promise and he keeps his promises.]

[sizeofyourbaggage]

[ Always.

Sam lets the promise wash over him, and the last of the tension he's been carrying for the last few days eases. He echoes the feeling back, twisting himself into their bond like a blanket, but he can't help but say it out loud, too. ]

Me too, baby. [ He'd meant to say Bucky, but that's definitely not what comes out. He's not exhausted enough not to notice, but honestly, he doesn't care. ] Love you.

[bracchium]

[Bucky's eyebrows rise at the new nickname. He's never heard that in his life. Maybe he's said it, a long time ago, but can't remember. He curls tighter around Sam with an affectionate hum.

Him too, Sam. Him too.]