gotta get down for a mingle

[redactions]

Who: The crew of the SS Heron and visitors.
Broadcast: nope.
Action: Aboard the SS Heron.
When: After returning to the ship.

[ finally back on the right ship, except the corridors are all mysteriously cold and the ship seems smaller. Thanks, Atroma. New crew, visitors, starters in comments ]

Comments

[enshields]

[He cuts through the meatloaf with the edge of his fork, it clinks down against the plate with more force than he'd intended.

Wryly,]

Pretty sure your Ma told us it was rude to answer a question with another question. [More quietly,] I'm askin' you.

[redactions]

Lotta things Ma's heart would break over.

​[ The alcoholism, even if it never gets him drunk. The self-destructiveness. Not going to church anymore. Not believing. He tries to hold on to the bitterness, and let it shape his exterior. Like a traitor it slips away, and he's left with misery. He looks down at his hands. ]

I have my grief and you have yours. We both ain't stopped bein' stubborn asses.

[enshields]

[Patiently,]

Buck--

[No. He wets his lips, shakes his head. There is no offer of apology, but it's there all the same, in the room with them like a ghost.]

It's not about being stubborn.

[redactions]

​[ Wearily, ]

Then, tell me.

[enshields]

[What a gulf this is, great and yawning. Lifetimes ago, when he was still learning himself, he remembers fire being the impetus not to fall.]

I can't. I don't have all the answers, pal. All I know, there's no universe out there where you wouldn't have done everything you could for me. And vice versa. Some things just have to happen.

[redactions]

​[ Some things you hold with you, wherever you go. Sam has Riley; Jim has Steve; Natasha has her debts. ]

I made him a promise. Steve. To the end of the line. Do you remember?

[enshields]

[His expression flickers, there and gone.]

Can't forget.

[redactions]

​[ Something subtle cracks, like it could be hope. But his hands have never shaken when they make a shot. ]

It's yours.

​[ The only piece of him that ever mattered. ]

[enshields]

[And he's never flinched from a blow. Instead:]

Idiot. That's my line.

[redactions]

​[ Something pricks at his eyes, and before he knows it his body moves, and he hugs Steve tightly, fingers curling in his shirt, breathing in the smell that's usually pencil lead on his fingers, the old uniform, and something else uniquely Steve. ]

You shut up. I'm plannin' on keepin' it.

[enshields]

[He murmurs, easy, easy as he wraps his arms around Bucky, his grip less crushing and more infinitely aware of his own strength, all the gentler for it. Losing Bucky was his ruin in so many awful ways. He's wondered more than once how differently that showdown with Schmidt would have gone down if he hadn't been dragged down by the awful clarity of grief. The War hadn't even afforded him time to mourn before it picked him up, dusted him off and sent him to die.

Steve's not stronger than Bucky, never has been. They just wear their strength in different ways, an unconquerable heart and an unbreakable soul, and Steve doesn't have to wonder what it cost Bucky to go on alone in the bleak ruin of the future Steve remembers waking up in.]

Your meatloaf smells horrible, pal.

[It's all the things he can't say, huffed out in a breath against Bucky's metal shoulder, hurting so much for a life unlived he wishes he were half so theatric as Peggy thinks he is just so's he could cry over it. Maybe it'd help.]

[redactions]

​[ There's an old, proud part of him that says he should pull away, and he doesn't need Steve's reassurance. Truth is he's not sure what he needs besides for his best friend to just be alive again. The War, the Winter Soldier — they change nothing. You can't fix death; everything else heals over, and neither of them have that many physical scars anymore. ]

Modern food is hard to get used to.

​[ He remembers drowning, and relaxes in increments, until there's no lines of the Soldier. He breaks the grip only to cup both hands over Steve's cheeks. A smile flickers across his face, cracked by honest pain. ]

I'm glad you're alive.

[enshields]

[Steve lets him, lifts his hands to grip at Jim's wrists. His fingers flex, reassuring. He's not trying to stop him.

I'm glad you're alive sounds an awful lot like, I'm glad I fell from where he's standing, but Steve - though he searches - can't find it in him to begrudge James the sentiment. After all, it's one he shares. There is no easy road, but there are ones fraught with fewer dangers. Jim had Sam and Natasha, but he still lived on his knees. Life isn't simply a matter of a beating heart.

Steve ruffles the other man's hair.]

Why don't you tell me about it, huh? Can't be the only thing that's different.

[redactions]

[ Trust Steve to be looking after him first and keeping away the worst of his own pain. If there is any -- but that's uncharitable. It's obvious to him if he wasn't so damn bullheaded: Steve thinks the future is bleak enough to become -- whatever he is now. Grief changes everyone: some it cracks open, others it turns to stone. Jim gives him a briefly reproachful look, and almost opens his mouth to chide him. But there's dinner, and Steve's fingers are careful not to restrain his after Austria. ]

[ He ruffles Steve's hair in turn, with deep, rough affection. ]

I ain't got time for much outside a'being Fury's errand boy... [ a pause; he brightens ] Moon landing? Smartphones? Hey, did you get one a'those coffee machines? Kuerigs? I never figured those out. Do you know how much an apartment in Brooklyn costs? The Internet is fantastic. Sam keeps trying to get me to read Harry Potter? He loves those books.

[enshields]

[It's such an unexpected avalanche, a torrent. He laughs as he reclaims his chair and steals something - anything - off Jim's plate in something close to kissin' normal.

And yeah, yeah, he makes affirmative or negative noises in response to each question, but as it stands he's got only the one:]

Dodgers?

[redactions]

[ Jim starts gesturing indignantly. ]

I rioted! In my living room, but it counts.

[ Sam had nearly busted a rib laughing and even Natasha had just quirked up the corner of her mouth. ]

Who'm I supposed to root for now?

[enshields]

[He misses Ebbets, he misses the game, he misses feeling like nothing else mattered at all in the world but the crack of the bat. The game was a way to be transported, it was a way to transcend. Steve had almost knocked one of Buck's teeth out once during a game, arms flung wide to celebrate a home run.

Good memories, laid to rest. But God, he thinks fiercely, not lost.]

Dunno. Given any thought to football?

[redactions]

[ Just for that, Jim comes over and drapes on him, with gentle pressure. This is still a negotiation. ]

You're hilarious.

[enshields]

[He pats Jim's shoulder with affection, warm and deliberate. Then,]

Why'd you really ask me here?

[redactions]

[ The joke is always first to form: needed someone to smell the meatloaf. He sobers, then, quietly, ]

Do you know who I am?

[enshields]

[Time, life changes people. He knows it, he's seen it. Steve Rogers, that skinny kid from Brooklyn that never learned to back down from a fight, he went to sleep in the ice and he never woke up. Captain America remembers him sometimes, clings fast to the pieces of who he used to be, but the future built a new man from the ashes of the old. It'd be a disservice to James Barnes to assume any differently for him. The tectonic shift to Jim is the skeleton of a redirected river, Steve is cracked stone. They are both elements, both sundered, frost burning the roots of their respective foundations. The gale howls, it swallows them both.

Steve's expression shifts, and he wonders, did I die on a Wednesday too?]

I know who you used to be.

[There's resolve in his words, however softly said. He searches Jim's eyes as he says it, looking for some small, impossible thing.]

I'd like to learn the rest, if you'd let me.

[redactions]

[ There is always resolve. Steve has stood firm through everything Jim has seen him face, and this is no different. His fingers tighten briefly on Steve's shoulder, scrambling for purchase, holding on for dear life. It's not the answer his ruined heart needs, but it's close. Next door neighbours. Jim exhales. ]

I've changed a lot.

[ He tries to say: you might not like it. Or perhaps something akin to I'm a real monster now. Nothing happens. ]

[enshields]

[Scrambling for purchase in the storm, all Steve can do is weather it with him. He lets his fingers close on Bucky's wrist, holding him firm but gently.]

You're my friend.

[If it's absolution he needs, forgiveness for whatever he feels he's done, he doesn't even have to ask for it, it's given freely and with everything he is. Steve knows the quality of his character. He's not perfect, what flaws he has are deep cracks at the core of him. But he's a good man, and Steve trusts that hasn't changed. Through war, through winter, through whatever bleak future he's endured-- immutable. Being a good man isn't always about doing good things, it doesn't always mean you make the right decisions, it doesn't mean you walk away unscarred, untarnished. Sometimes all it means is having more endurance than the other guy. But there is no one alive or dead he knows better than Bucky Barnes.]

[redactions]

[ The glass window of the Valkyrie cracked almost instantly, never shattered. The water was freezing. The ship had filled up almost inmediately, but there were moments. Minutes he had to consider if he wanted to keep swimming. Drowning was a relief; the only way to end the nightmare. ]

[ This isn't absolution. It's the water of baptism, and quietly he sinks into Steve's grip, unmoving for a long time, breathing slow and steady. ]

To the end of the line.

[ Wherever it goes. Whatever it asks. Steve whoever he is now or whatever he will be, is always worth it. ]

I love you.

[ I need you to know that. ]

[enshields]

[Sometimes, all you can do is staunch the bleeding. Steve draws Bucky in against him, letting hold on. Long as he needs.]

I know, pal. I love you too.

[His instinct is to say, who are you trying to convince? Bucky's never been one for reiterating truths taken to be self-evident. But he's shaken, shocked and scared, and the whole of the world has bent him beneath its weight, and the idea of adding unnecessarily to that yoke unnerves him.

Instead, gently,]

You were right. About-- him. The Winter Soldier. Whatever you're doing with him, it's-- helping.