ethyraia | If I can let the memory heal

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Tracker for plans:

✪ MCU Cast Group Thread: Here's What You Missed
✪ Bucky: USCC Adamant Exploration
✪ Nina: Sweet Dreams Are Totally Not Made Of This

Right.

[ Sam bounces his leg lightly where the sits. He pulls the goggles off his head - Redwing's out there circling the camp, and things have been quiet. No need to stare at the insight of the red visor and monitor the data permanently.

He rubs a hand over his face, then downs the rest of the galaxy's shittiest coffee to chase away the fatigue that's creeping into the cracks and edges, eyes settling on his friends with a hard swallow.

Sam doesn't get scared. Sam doesn't run away from shit. Right now, he wants to strap on the wings and spiral up into the sky, and away from a conversation he doesn't want to have.

I can catch you up, he'd told Steve. And: But I need Bucky for that. I need my partner. He'd meant that - the thought of talking through this shit once is bad enough, doing it several times, and doing it without the person who was at least there for some of it, feels... impossible. He looks at Bucky for a moment, then at Steve and Natasha.

Right. ]

So... we playing at the galaxy's weirdest high school reunion, yeah? Any preferences on how we do the awkward catch-up talk? 'Cause I don't have a neat slide show ready to go, but I wanna get us all on the same page. Kinda tired of us tripping over each other's landmines.

Edited 2021-06-07 02:55 (UTC)

( Ya boi Barnes over here is reclined like he's on vacation, slumped down in his seat, boots propped up on the table, throwing what looks like a rubber ball straight up into the air and then catching it again mindlessly.

He provides a helpful, lazy: )

Nope.

[ Steve's leaning forward, forearms resting on his thighs. Trying not to eye anyone in particular when he says with a half shake of his head, gaze on his folded hands: ]

Been waiting on you guys.

[ He's the farthest behind. And it's all he's been asking anyone since they got here. ]

（ who's fifteen minutes late with starbucks? this girl. nat strolls in with a pair of sunglasses and a mug of what smells like coffee. as she walks past barnes, she takes that ball out of the air and swans past him to sit with her back against the furthest wall. ）

All in favour of keeping the clowns to ourselves say 'aye'.

（ just to break the tension. ）

( from somewhere in the background, a discontent: )

Hey.

Taking a man's ball, Tasha, really...

[ What? He can't help it, the set up was right there, and when it comes to quips, Sam's not gonna say no to low-hanging fruit. Besides, he can use a moment of levity before he takes this entire bus and drives it off a cliff. Sam glances at Natasha. If nothing else, catching them all up to one another will help her navigate whatever she's selling, too. All Sam knows is that Natasha doesn't want Steve to know, and he might not be thrilled to lie to Steve about that, but it's also absolutely not his truth to tell. ]

Alright, we can keep the clowns from Steve, he don't gotta know about those. [ Does that make Natasha the clown now? Well... ] Lemme start with the battle.

[ He keeps the parts before that brief, because he has only heard some minor debriefing about that. 5 years, until Tic Tac shows back up who didn't get dusted but was lost in a parellel universe or some shit like that, he shows back up, a time travel plan is concocted that Sam admits to barely understanding, the Infinity Stones are plucked out of various points in the past and gathered together, a new gauntlet is built. Banner is permanently Hulked out, snaps to bring everyone back. The last 5 years aren't undone, but everyone who was dusted reappears as they were, where they were, although Bruce insisted like half a dozen times that he made sure people who were on planes and in other precarious situations reppeared in the closest approximate safe space or something. Bucky, him and a bunch of other people reappear in a thicket in Wakanda, 'some wizards explain that Thanos is back and time is of the essence' - Sam sees the look on Bucky's face and barrels right ahead, leaving no room for the wizard vs sorcerer debate in which he is right and Bucky is wrong. Sam also doesn't mention seeing the broken, shattered body of Vision and wondering if anyone was gonna bring him home, because there was just no time to do anything but leave him there. What he talks about instead is the battle at the Avengers compound against a time travelling Thanos and his army, because that's just their life these days. ]

Oh, but dude. [ Sam reaches over and lightly punches against Steve's arms, eyebrows going up. ] You fight with Thor's hammer. Worthy and everything. Pretty impressive. Anyway... questions so far? 'Cause I ain't gonna answer them, I barely understood this shit the first time around.

[ He rubs a hand over the back of his neck then, staring down at the table. And that leaves... snap number 2. There wasn't meant to be another one, far as Sam could piece together after, but Thanos' presence ruined the day, and it became a battle to keep the stones out of his hands - again. So he tells them - Steve, mostly, because Nat already figured this one out. About how Stark gets his hands on the gauntlet, and he uses the stones. Wipes out Thanos and his entire army. And then Sam adds, quiet and soft, because this is a complicated tangle of emotions for all of them: ]

Stark doesn't make it.

[ He watches Sam, for the most part. Fixes on him as he talks, finally fills in most of the gaps. At some point his gaze flicks toward Natasha, like he's seeking confirmation, or something less easily read from his features. Not that he doesn't believe Sam. But, something needles at him all the same. She was there for the parts Sam and Bucky weren't.

Sam punches his arm and he gives a tight, forced half smile. A light huff to the reveal about Thor's hammer. But he shakes his head, lets Sam continue without the interruption of questions. Maybe the time travel parts still don't make sense to him, but that's not what's got him feeling like there's at least one more large shoe ready to drop in this story.

Stark doesn't make it.

His brow pinches. Eyes flick to Bucky, then Natasha. Each a question.

Doesn't hold them for long. His chin drops, shoulders hunched as he stares at some spot on the ground.

Gonna have to give him a minute to process this one. ]

（ she listens. absorbs. some of this she's already had, in pieces from barnes. the rest she could have guessed at. heroics always take a certain bent. the heroes gather around for one last fight. they win. there's a cost. and natasha is a student of histories longer than just the existence of superheroes on earth.

steve looks at her, and it's half a question. the mask doesn't slip — she would die for him, but no one she would die for has ever been entitled to all of her. she has all the appropriate reactions. a flicker of amusement when sam talks about steve lifting the hammer (she always knew he could). the way her jaw ticks to one side when he mentions stark.

but she knows that steve's well aware they aren't telling him everything. he's too smart not to guess. he just doesn't know which way to pivot, and her speciality happens to be keeping people on their toes.

(she knows she's being selfish. she knows it. but her death is her business. she saw how knowing what happened to barnes affected him. and the last thing the world needs is for him to get the bright idea to do something like change the past. more than he apparently already decided to, anyway.

the soul stone always needed a sacrifice. it was always going to be one of them. if she deserves nothing else in life but the freedom to make that choice and make it count, she'll fight to keep it.)

she comes over to steve, wraps an arm around his big, stupid shoulders. showing support to other people is a learned rather than an innate skill she possessed from childhood. it was something she had to choose to value. she'd been working on it, before the blip, but afterwards it was something she got good at. her way to honour sam.

gently, ）

He had a nice funeral. First guy who gets to say he had actual extra terrestrials attend, you know he'd like that clout. （ she gives him a tiny little shake, leans her head against his shoulder. ） And the guy who already died once to save the world doesn't get to be a hypocrite, huh?

（ steve isn't the sort of person you need to coddle. soldiers always know how to navigate loss. maybe that makes her a hypocrite too. ）

( Bucky is decidedly quiet throughout the whole explanation — and harder to read than Natasha if only because he's deliberately not looking at any of them. He's got his eyes out, face a profile to them at best, blankly staring at nothing. Maybe a better way of putting it is he's easier to read accurately because the page is blank instead of unreliable narrative.

He has some seriously complicated feelings about Stark. Guilt is probably a surprise to no one, considering he probably seems like a collector at this point, but still. If you kill the parents, you shouldn't get to outlive the son. He also still has no intentions on being the one to spoil Natasha's death-day surprise, so he's a largely useless participant throughout everything, until now. )

Then a couple hours after the funeral, you suit up and head out. Think that pretty much gets you up to current events. Well...

( He shoots a look at Sam. )

Current for me, almost.

( He still doesn't know what happens after that unpleasant jailhouse therapy session and parking lot argument with fake Captain America. Have either of them mentioned that yet? )

Sam's apparently ahead of me, too.

[ Sam lets the emotion sit between all of them. Natasha comforting Steve settles in his chest like something comfortable and near peaceful. Reminds him of late nights in a shitty safe house somewhere in Europe, fiddling with a radio until it crooned something in a language he'd been too tired to identify, making the world's shittiest coffee to try and ward of the cold, wet chill creeping in.

Sam, though, glances towards Bucky. Remembers the complicated tangle of guilt in blue eyes from the funeral as if it were yesterday. Comforting Bucky had been easier than focusing on his own complicated tangle of emotions. Grieving Natasha while everyone else was focused on paying tribute to Stark.

And the guy who already died once to save the world doesn't get to be a hypocrite, huh?

It occurs to Sam that they all did. They all died to save the world. And not all of them got to come back from that, but he can't voice how unfair that is. So he watches Bucky in lieau of asking 'you good?' out loud, and keeps his hands under the table to rub the feeling back into his finger tips. He's flesh and blood, not dust and ash. He's fine. ]

Secretary Ross was at the funeral.

[ His lips twinge a little. He's still not sure if that had been more out of respect for Stark or because there were a couple of wanted fugitives in attendance. Guy didn't push his luck, at the very least. Sam brings a hand up to rub at his forehead briefly. ]

Bucky knew what you were gonna do. I thought something had gone wrong when you didn't show back up. And then Bucky pointed you out. Old man sitting on a bench by the shore of the lake not too far away. [ Didn't even say good-bye. Another friend and partner lost. ] Wedding ring and all. You didn't tell me about that when I asked. Passed along the shield and told me it was mine. And I mean, what was I gonna do, say 'hold up a minute' while you and Bucky looked so proud and pleased about it?

[ He frowns down at the table for a moment, doesn't look up at the rest of them for a moment. ]

Everyone sort of... scattered, after that, everyone had their own shit to handle and messes to clean up. I guess we all had our burdens to carry. Ross dragged those of us who were still kind of wanted fugitives to New York. Bucky's pardon came with the most strings attached. Mine was easy, just came with sympathetic questions about who I was gonna pass the shield along to, and who the next Captain America was gonna be.

[ He looks at Bucky first, then at Steve. ]

They didn't ask if you'd given it to me to keep. They assumed I was the bellhop merely dragging it around. So... I went... home. To Louisiana, not DC. My place there's long gone. Government kept calling asking about the shield and what was to happen to it. So I took contract jobs with the Air Force to dodge the pestering. Tried to do some good - world's a mess. Millions of people showing back up out of thing air created a lot of problems. Jobs, housing... Couple months in, I got some intel on a group rallying the displaced behind them, organizing raids. Stealing supplies, mostly. Medicine. Governments were pushing people out who had found homes during those five years, who'd been able to cross borders and find shelter. Government's trying to push back the previous status quo. Those left behind by something like that tend to get angry.

[ His jaw clenches. ]

And you gave me a shield that to everyone left behind is a reminder of the nation they're getting left behind by. So I figured it would be better put to rest and remembered well by the people who saw the meaning you gave to this symbol.

[ He looks at Bucky again, briefly. Knows this Bucky hasn't figured that out on his own yet, and has lost the context in which he would have. ]

Government agreed. We had a lovely ceremony at the Smithsonian. Felt like a tribute to the friend I lost. Like a funeral. They told me I did the right thing. Real sympathetic stuff, honestly. Day after, I see them announce the new Captain America on the news. Blonde, blue-eyed John Walker, shield on his arm and all. Nice uniform, too. Fought in the same war I did, ironically. Got a couple medals. They were ready with the press conference, the posters, the marching band and celebrations. Within a day - so they probably started prepping this since they saw me with it after the funeral.

Edited 2021-06-15 22:36 (UTC)

[ Not the sort of person you need to coddle, or wants it. Not physically or emotionally. She's had to learn how to offer support, he's had to wrestle with learning to accept when it's offered. He's stiff beneath her arm. Aware of her proximity, and elsewhere-inward at once.

There's not much room for rejection when he's still processing the strange shock.

Six years ago he'd made the call himself to close a portal, and the guy'd survived by the skin of his teeth. Four years of countless close calls. If he trusted anything about the man, it's that when it came down to it he'd already proven that he had it in him to make the sacrifice play. The same any of them would make.

Whatever it takes.

Whatever else they were to each other, it's difficult to imagine a world without Tony Stark.

He's still partially elsewhere when Natasha continues. When Bucky sticks another barb in, and maybe for the first time since they've started this fight he does nothing. Says nothing, doesn't shoot him a look.

Sam continues.

( He's been laid flat on a table like this. Been in a room in a box in a skyscraper. Body numb, aware and not. Explained to about the future. Bits and pieces at first. Carefully, for fear of needing to put him in another kind of room. His lowest point, and he's not sure now that it was made better or worse that he went through it surrounded by strangers at the time.

Natasha's arm is around him, Bucky across from him, Sam speaking. )

Some of what Sam explains he knows. Bucky's pardon. The general consequences of the blip. That Steve and Bucky decided for Sam that he'd be getting the shield. That Sam gave it up, returning to his family. A little bit about Walker. Some of this he wonders briefly who is it for? Just himself? Bucky is behind Sam, he knows. Hasn't been shy about it. Natasha has been the most tight-lipped of the three, and that's no surprise, except that she's noticeably absent from everything Sam's recalling.

He doesn't know about the old man and the ring.

The compass sits in his pocket like a weight.

His guilt, his internalized anger, it's all a weight on his chest that he pushes down with practice.

But that just leaves empty space. ]

I'm sorry.

[ he says, finally. Looking squarely at Sam this time. He's apologized to Bucky in the past couple of weeks more times than he's apologized in his entire life. Yelled it in anger, spoke it solemnly in earnest. Must've said it to Sam by now too. Two words he doesn't toss around easily, not without meaning it. Not without some action intended behind it.

He grits his teeth, and for once this is all he's got.

Five years from now, he becomes someone who leaves all three of them behind to deal with a mess, with barely a goodbye.

It's not someone he recognizes.

It's not something he can undo. ]

Okay guys, I think we can ease up on the Cap shaming.

（ it's said lightly, pleasant. teasing. less about what sam said and more about how steve's taking it — but it's a warning, too. she peels back from his side and punches steve's shoulder. hard enough he'll feel it, not hard enough to hurt. they've sparred enough she knows the difference. ）

Give this man an inch and he'll take ten miles and self-flagellate the whole time, barefoot, uphill both ways in snow. That a Catholic thing, Barnes?

（ bucky gets a rather pointed look, her eyebrows raised as she folds her arms. ）

And Steve? You haven't done any of that yet. If I hear you apologizing again, mm — （ in a joking, pitch-perfect mid-atlantic accent, ） — 'To the moon, Alice'.

（ all her english was learned from early american television. sitcoms from the seventies and eighties. earlier. so yes, she knows the honeymooners.

but she's made her point, and so hops up on the nearest table, using a chair for her feet. leans forward a bit, elbows braced on her knees. time to get serious, and sell the lie. ）

Sam's ahead of me, too. But I know Walker's file. I wasn't that surprised they picked him, he was squeaky clean out of Afghanistan. They made a big deal about him way back. Mister three time Medal of Honor recipient. Sariposa, Tarinkot and Lashkargar.

（ medals of honour aren't exactly handed out like candy. it's her business to know things. people who might be useful. people who might be dangerous. walker was being called captain america by the media circuit well before they pulled steve out of the ice in 2012. a long, distinguished career, and the reward of a title that belongs to no one else but two of the men in this room? sure, why not.

she'd be livid about it, if she ever let herself get angry about that sort of thing. ）

For what it's worth, Fury didn't like him much. You could say he's wary of any blonde haired, blue-eyed men being held up as the pinnacle of American excellence.

（ her tone is wry. hands up, anyone in the room who doesn't immediately think of nazis? no? ）

If I had to guess, the big players in DC probably had their eye on him long before Stark's funeral. They were always pretty eager to get a Captain America they could actually control under their thumb. Turns out Steve Rogers is pretty bad for business on the PR front. They could've asked Brandt about that one. Might've saved them some time.

( That a Catholic thing, Barnes? He answers dryly, automatically; )

Half Catholic.

( Himself, anyway. All his dad forcing it on the family, god forbid they get to retain anything from his mother's side.

...he reluctantly weaves into a nod, because he does actually know the answer. )

-but yes.

( He's also completely ignoring the warning and reverse-guilting happening there, because she's not even his real mom and he can do whatever he wants.

(he tells himself)

Since they're taking this opportunity to bash on Walker, the second Nat finishes up and he can offer his sage input again he's jumping on that train. )

He's an idiot. The government has its hand so far up his ass I'm surprised it's not triggering his gag reflex.

Ain't on you, Steve.

[ He means that. This Steve hasn't done any of it. And wouldn't. It makes Sam wonder how he's carrying the weight of loss right now - but knowing it's fixed must help that crack. Where somewhere between 2018 and 2023, Steve Rogers broke under the trauma of unimaginable, countless losses and couldn't live in a present in which he had no way of knowing if he might not lose his friends all over again, fleeing into a past in which he knew the exact outcomes and wasn't at risk of having to bear further losses before their time... this Steve, at least, has a silver lining, no matter how inconceivable the details must understandably feel to him. ]

For what it's worth, you looked at peace.

[ And as for Walker...

Thanks again for coming forward with the shield, Sam. It was the right decision.

He can still feel that clammy hand in his, and conjure up that fake smile. Wonders why they bothered with the charade of even putting the shield behind glass like Sam wanted, when they were clearly ready with Walker, when at no point in any of this Sam's wishes had actually mattered.

Three medals of honor.

There wasn't enough left of Riley to be shipped back in a box. Classified all over his file. Whole thing smeared into the desert sand and sold as a tragic accident doing routine training maneuvers. Fireworks still bring Sam right back into that dark night, weaving and dodging through explosions in the air. Riley died trying to save people. What exactly Walker was awarded medals for, Sam doesn't know. But he's seen enough of the man and knows enough about that war to hazard a wild guess or a dozen.

While we love heroes who put their lives on the line to defend Earth, we also need a hero to defend this country. We need a real person who embodies America's greatest values. We need someone to inspire us again. Someone who could be a symbol for all of us.

And he can still remember what it was like to crumble away into nothing, flaking away atom by atom as if he'd never even existed at all. Watching Walker presented on TV day after they'd shaken his hand and thanked him for laying the shield to rest in the Smithsonian had felt just like it.

He should have known better. Sam prides himself on being an optimist with people, with individuals, and a realist with the world at large.

Sam knows he's fallen silent a little too long here, and tries to keep his mind on what matters. ]

Yeah that... doesn't last.

Edited 2021-06-16 01:21 (UTC)

[ The punch to his shoulder has him blinking a few times, eyeing Natasha with a grimace barely concealed behind a tight, closed lipped smile.

This is the other side of being known. Care that feels like it'll never not feel half like coddling. Rankles more than it soothes. Takes effort not to reject outright. To reconcile.

You haven't done any of that yet.

(but you're all sure that he has to)

For what it's worth, you looked at peace.

(sounds like what you say to a dying man)

He's quiet again as they talk, his gaze shifting from one to another. His features shift more solidly toward grimacing, and he shakes his head. ]

Never heard of the guy.

[ Walker.

Kind of a non-entity right now. ]

Count yourself lucky. Wish I hadn't.

（ it's a joke. as much as anything here even can be. four people pulled together, across time and space and death, each their own island of misery.

she studies sam as she speaks. she needs to make time for him later. see what's up. ）

Headsup.

[ That's about all the warning Bucky gets before Sam drops out of the sky a few paces in front of him, touching down a lot more delicately and quietly than he ever could on the EXO-7 Falcon wingsuit. The Wakandan suit's got awfully quiet quiet thrusters, and the wings, despite being much larger, maneuver much more delicately, almost trembling on every slight breeze. The shield sits snug atop the jetpack, and the wings are smoothly folding in as Sam walks up to Bucky, checking something on his wrist panel. ]

So Major Buttclench ain't willing to part with a gun or shield for a little off schedule exploration, even though I pretended it was for me and not you. But sky's pretty clear, we got plenty daylight, it's only about five kilometers south-west to the ship wreck, and I secured us a first-aid kit. Plus you got a vibranium arm, I can fly, so who gives a shit, right?

[ Sam flicks his gaze up with a grin. ]

Bet we can do better than Steve and Tasha.

Edited 2021-06-07 03:12 (UTC)

( But Sam, look at all this important work he's doing, untangling rope that someone else tangled. Surely they need him here, for he is an invaluable rope-untangling resource.

His eyebrows hitch up high at the sight of Sam in the new suit, with the new wings he only just heard a second or two before Sam swooped in and touched down.

Look at him all Captain America'd up, hitting him up for a mission all of a sudden out of the blue. )

I had a dinner reservation.

( He has to at least put up the pretense that he's being difficult. It's like an obligation now

The reality: he's fucking bored out of his god damn mind. Yeah, he's happy to get the hell out of here for a while. )

[ He almost says it then: What's Cap without his partner? Sam swallows that joke down though - doesn't feel right with Steve here, and the disconnect in who they all are to each other. ]

So I'm doing both of us a favor. C'mon. Have my six and I'll get you back home by 8 for the galaxy's most joyless dinner.

[ Sam switches to a readout of his own vitals - routine checks, really. Gotta make sure you're not on the verge of passing out mid-air and all that jazz, so he always double checks when he's on the ground, read out the baseline. ]

You doin' that staring thing.

Edited 2021-06-07 03:53 (UTC)

You're doin' that talking thing.

( He counters reflexively, no actual heat or malice in there. Just a knee-jerk retort, because somehow bickering with Sam has been ingrained into his DNA.

But he's already getting up, setting aside the bundles of cables and ropes.

Casts a sidelong glance back in the direction of the security hub, because it sure would be goddamn nice to have a rifle right now, wouldn't it? Whatever. It's fine. He doesn't need it. )

How far'd Steve and Natasha get?

( ...because yeah okay maybe outscoring them sounds a little appealing. He's competitive, sue him. )

Have been ever since we met, thank you for noticing.

[ Sam tosses an easy grin at the local curmudgeon, then nods his head for them to start heading out. He's with Bucky on the rifle. The rain's less a concern, but he'd have liked to put an actual ranged weapon in Bucky's hands. ]

They found a partial map that can't upload to our devices, and some personal belongings they brought back to the survivors.

[ The humor mostly slides - Sam's not getting serious so much as slipping into mission mode as he lays info out for Bucky: ]

Different colored lines leading to different sectors like in a hospital - they found a legend for that. Blue for Medical, Black for Engineering, Yellow for the Gymnasium, White for Bunks. There's some more, but they said the rest wasn't legible. I figure we clear as much of a path to Medical as we can, map out the way for easier return trips, grab some supplies to bring back if we get that far. Aid Station's running low on everything. I'd love to check in on Engineering, too, but we gotta prioritize getting people patched up and on their feet.

[ A quick glance towards the horizon, the slivers of sky visible beyond the arc of the dragon wing. ]

If it starts raining on the way there or back, you can cover under the shield, I got the wings.

Edited 2021-06-12 05:43 (UTC)

I'll get my gun.

( Said with only a token amount of reluctance, the bare minimum required to meet his Grumpy Old Man obligations.

By his gun he means a sad, low-caliber handgun squirreled away from somebody most likely not from the Adamant crew. He's off and away for about a minute, and when he comes back it's with the gun tucked in the back of his waistband, an empty bag slung over his shoulders, and his tac gear on. Barnes don't fuck around when it comes to alien monsters. )

Lead the way, Cap.

[ The smartass comment about Bucky's gear is written clear across Sam's features. At 'Cap', though, Sam ducks his head a little, lips pulling into a soft, pleased smile while his eyes drop momentarily with a small, surprised exhale. Hadn't quite expected that yet - or at all, perhaps.

Good job, Cap, and a hand tapping against the shield on his back like a benediction and a blessing, and it had meant a lot. Still does. ]

That what we're going with?

[ He starts walking, but he does glance at Bucky. Less of a tease, more of a check in - you good? Sam's still not sure about the fit of the honorific, especially from Bucky, especially with Steve right here and far from retirement. And just like he looked to Bucky back by that bench on the shore, needing that encouraging nod before he even thought to pick up the shield despite Steve's insistence, he looks for Bucky's choice here. Wonders, dimly, if Bucky even realizes that his opinion holds a weight for Sam here. Always did. Even when the edge of it was sharp and aimed to hurt - maybe especially then. ]

[ Some nights, Sam invests his own time of rest into sparring with Bucky, or finding a movie to watch at the theater with Bucky. It's meant to be a way to help the guy handle his insomnia and nightmares, but truth be told, Sam borderline needs that distraction, too - the option to push himself just a little beyond the brink of exhaustion, so that his body has no choice but fold into sleep, his mind wiped out by how busy he keeps himself - between the aid station, training, perimeter checks, flight exercises, helping with every big or small thing that needs a hand...

And still there's the occasional night when his mind kicks into overdrive despite Sam's best efforts. When the past slams into him, when grief threatens to blindside him, when regret makes it so damn difficult to breathe. Those nights, Sam avoids his friends lest they see through the calm he's trying to project.

Shortly after a successful excursion to the UCSS Adamant from which Sam and Bucky returned carrying antibiotics and donor blood, Sam's satisfaction over progress gives way to restlessness. He ends up running midnight laps in the gym that he's sure his legs will hate him for in the morning, and the shower after does little to make him feel sleepy as his mind spins itself into knots and circles. He's exhausted - just not sleepy. His original intent on the way back is to go and fetch his gear, take the wings out for a late night flight and hope the night sky over Camp Leviathan won't turn into the night sky over Afghanistan in his tired mind.

That plan tilts sideways a little when he sees a white hill move through the camp. At second glance, he identifies it as the... dog... no, wolf. The massive wolf Matthias had with him - all kinds of more intimidating standing up than lying down behind its master. It's not Matthias who Sam spots with the furball, though, and the sight surprises him enough to speak when he otherwise would not have: ]

... Nina?

Edited 2021-06-07 04:53 (UTC)

[ Nina dreamed of drowning. It was a pleasant change from being burned alive or shredded apart in the dark, as these things go, or of all the faces of people she couldn't save, but overall it was enough to get her jolting quietly awake - not gasping. It was important to do these things quietly, to limit even instinctual movements so as to not draw attention. She settled back in the hammock, sweat a faint clinging sheen on the back of her neck, her temples, as her heart raced.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in...

The hammock is clinging in all the worst ways and she can't take it one second longer. She slips from the hammock and Trassel wakes up to huff at her. He looks from her to where Matthias is sleeping - all the way over there - and begins to head in his direction.

Nina immediately puts out a hand to halt him - "Don't you dare, you tattletale."

And that is how Nina and Trassel came to be walking toward the gymnasium in the dead of night, Nina, hoping that she would be able to sweat out what disturbed her, and Trassel guarding her despite herself. The wolf's head comes up high, just past her waist as they make their way through the camp. She's got her hand resting casually on his head, but really it's there so that the wolf doesn't bolt off to go wake up Matthias. ]

--Oh! Hello, Sam. [ ...he does not look or feel right; his heart is pounding in an exhausted rhythm, and yet that doesn't feel like all of it. ] I wasn't expecting to run into anyone.

Yeah... seems those late night gym visits are more popular than either of us thought.

[ It's a joke, and the tone implies as much, but the smile doesn't quite reach Sam's eyes, doesn't quite warm his face the way it usually does. It's enough to fool most people other than those who know him very well - or those who have other means of measuring how genuine the expression is.

It's not that he's not always glad to see her, it's just that things are scratching at his mind.

But as he is wont to do, Sam's mind slides sideways from the things he wanted to do in order to distract himself from his own misery, and instead finds himself wondering what leads Nina here in the dead of night, with only the furball for company - her and Matthias know each other, Sam notes to himself. ]

Can't sleep either, huh?

Seems like the night for it. [ She makes a split second decision. ] Want to walk with me a bit?

[ Trassel huffs and Nina amends: ] Walk with us?

[ She gives him a quick smile. Good luck, Sam. ]

[ The correction's cute. Sam thinks back to their conversation a while ago in the aid station - what's it been now? Two weeks? Sounds about right... damnit. But he thinks back to that talk now. About counseling of all things.

Thinks of telling Nina that different people need different things.

He wonders if she doesn't want to be alone. ]

Sure. You been discovering any new emoji you like?

[ I don't want to be alone, but asking about little pictures and texting is easier than admitting to the spark of gratitude he feels at the offer, or talk about the way his fingertips feel numb, as if he's about to fall apart into ash and dust again.

So Sam keeps his face casually open and humorous. ]

[ Success! Synchronization achieved, as well as providing them both with a little bit of cover. They're just going for a walk, not two people who are awake when they shouldn't be.

He still doesn't feel right. She tightens her hand a little bit on Trassel and then moves to pat him to distract herself from Sam's heartbeat, instead of focusing as she really wants to. She's trying to be honest here, trying to build real connection to see what happens - and, okay, maybe the slight flash of vulnerability and invitation to Help Her when really she was more concerned about him was manipulative, but... okay, look, habits don't break easy and it didn't feel wrong or dishonest, just... easier, a different shade of truth. ]

I don't understand why they're called "emojis," [ she confesses. ] But I think the snail one is very cute. [ A quick flicker of a smile. ] And there are a lot of ones that I don't recognize - mostly the things with wheels.

I don't think anybody understands why they're called "emojis". Something about "emotions pictures", and then I think they mushed "emotion" together with the Japanese word for... something. I don't know. Touch too old to have grown up with that.

[ The conversation's easy at least, but Nina's the type who makes it easy. She reminds him, in strange ways, of his sister, of Wanda... even of Karli. The enthusiasm, he thinks, to discover something new and delightful, however small. He'd hoped to give Karli a future in which those were things for her to find.

No such luck. ]

You want me to explain any to you?

Mmm, maybe later. [ She does not want that much of a distraction from whatever's going on with him. She wants the walk, and the near darkness, to do its work. ] It's strange, isn't it? To be outside and not able to look up and see the stars?

[ Sam glances up automatically, eyes tracking along the darkness where the wing blots out the sky. ]

Yeah. Where I'm from there are some cities where the lights are so bright and numerous even at night that you can barely see the stars, either.

[ A slow exhale, and something in him quiets for a moment, as if saying the next part is almost enough to bring him peace if only for a fleeting moment: ]

I prefer open skies.

The clear views? The fresh air? Must be nice, to be up there in it.

[ She glances over at him with a small smile. ]

[ It's a smile Sam meets easily, something warming in his eyes. ]

Nothing quite like it in the world. Flying up high, freefalling and then swooping back up... It's exhilarating.

[ There we go. That was better. She continues, lightly: ] I imagine it gets quite cold up there?

Oh yeah. Windy and cold, but flying's taxing enough on the body to keep the core temperature up. Ain't exactly pure relaxation. And the gear's pretty well insulated.

[ For tactical reasons too, of course. Light weight tac gear, but still. Some protection is necessary. ]

If I can let the memory heal

[Closed] Plots/Plans

[Closed: MCU Cast] Do you remember standing on a broken field?

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[Closed: Bucky] White crippled wings beating the sky

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[Closed: Nina] The harbingers of war with their nature revealed

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thiiiiiis is super late, and we can handwave if you'd prefer