driftfleet | ★ 1 | ACTION ★

Entry tags:

★ 1 | ACTION ★

Who: Bucky!Cap Barnes
Action: Throughout the Marsiva holding area
When: Feb 15-17-ish

[Bucky is new. He's new, and confused, and he figures the best way to get answers is to go find them. For better or worse, there's not a whole lot of space in which to find them, since he's limited to the same holding area as the rest of the passengers, but on the plus side, given that everyone else is confined to the same area, he's more likely to run into said passengers. When he spots someone who looks like they might be amenable to talking, he's very likely to approach.

For the most part, the faces are not familiar; he wanders the living area and the kitchen (where he's likely to stop and get some coffee, thank God that seems to exist here). He pokes his head into the bathroom and gym, too, and of course actually makes use of the former to take a shower on a regular basis. The gym he doesn't so much use as inspect and note; he's still too wary of where he is for anything resembling recreation, and thanks to the serum, he doesn't actually need to do much in the way of regular training to keep himself up. Maybe later.

Mostly, what will strike people is the fact that his face looks like the Bucky Barnes already on board, if you've managed to get a good look at that, but his hair is cropped short and his face is clean-shaven and his left arm is definitely not metal. All he's got to wear is the dark blue STRIKE uniform (sans helmet and shield) that looks - to some people, probably - like it should belong on Steve Rogers instead.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Bucky snorts a little when Steve calls him a sap, gaze cutting over as if to say, And you're not? Although when Steve mentions cooking, Bucky does have to laugh, throwing in a big, sweeping kick to send the bag swinging. "You mean thrill them by giving everybody food poisoning. You were a shitty cook - in my world," he says, only faltering a little, before picking right back up again. "You couldn't smell a thing, which meant you couldn't taste a thing, so everything tasted fine to you."

Of course, the serum had changed that, and neither of them had had particularly sophisticated palates. Bucky still doesn't, really - he'll eat whatever's put in front of him, but that's what you get when you grew up in the twenties.

He does perk up a bit at the mention of planets, though. "Wait, there are stops?" That's - no one's mentioned that yet, actually. "Huh. It's a real fucking science fiction serial, isn't it."

Although, maybe just for the sake of solidarity, he adds in, "I haven't been, uh. Off-world, either. We sent Thor back with Loki, and then there was another battle with some aliens that Thor handled last year, but... " He shakes his head a little. "I stuck to the East Coast."

"Yeah, yeah. I could lie and say that I was a gourmet in my universe but...that sounds about the same, honestly. No smell means no taste which means too much salt in pretty much everything I cooked. But at least you came home to something on the table! I didn't hear you complaining about it after a double at the docks. If...uh. You worked the docks in your place." Steve can't help but wonder if the train is where they split or if there are small differences all over the place. It's interesting to think about even if Steve can't help but think of him as the Bucky he grew up knowing.

"But. Yeah," he presses on, walking over to pick up the heaviest medicine ball this place has and starting to toss it up and down in the air as though it were a basketball. "We apparently make stops. I haven't done one yet. I didn't get here much earlier than you did, actually. Maybe a month?" He shrugs, going back to the wall to toss the ball and watch Bucky warm up.

"I heard that some of the planets are pretty cool. Stuff to do and buy and all. Some of them have zombies or other things we'll need to fight. Which is fine. Not like I'm not used to it. I'm even a security augment so...all the better."

Bucky huffs a little, brushing his hair back a little. "No, docks was right for me, too," he admits. It's weird, how similar things are - it honestly just makes it harder, finding out how so many things were the same, to think of this as some other Bucky's Steve, and not his. But he has to, he knows, or this is just gonna get weird and hard - well. Weirder and harder than it already has.

Tell that to his gut, though, that clenches and screams THIS IS STEVE and that's all there is to it, every time he looks at the guy.

He cocks a brow, lips curling into a half-smile as Steve picks up what's gotta be a ball that would hobble anyone else. "You're a security augment?" he asks, because it hadn't come up before, but now that he knows what that means - "You're a cop?"

He suddenly sounds like maybe he's trying not to laugh.

"I am not a cop!"

Steve stands up, trying not to look offended at something that was in no way offensive. But Bucky probably knows as well as Steve does that he had more than a handful of run-ins with the law back when he wasn't Captain America. The instinctual distaste was hard to shake off even after all these years.

"I'm security. It's like...being my ship's Avenger. We have three security augments on my ship so we have good weapons and..." Steve frowns deep and takes the heavy ball in one hand to lob at Bucky. Probably only a handful of people in this place could handle a hit from that medicine ball but thankfully Bucky was one of them. Otherwise he was going to the hospital room.

"Shut up, jerk. What's your augment then? Cook? We wanna talk about poisoning people..."

The way Bucky's lips keep curling up in a satisfied little smirk belies the fact that he's managed to keep from actually laughing. So it seems his hunch was right - if his past was apparently mostly the same, so was Steve's. And his Steve had definitely had a couple of... clashes with the cops.

Bucky sees the medicine ball come flying in his direction out of the corner of his eye. He lets it get close, then twists to catch it in the crook of one arm, letting his body twist and give a little with the weight, and now he laughs a little. "Touchy, though, huh?" he asks, tossing the ball a little from hand to hand, before glancing up to answer Steve's question.

"Nah, I can poison people on my own merit if I've gotta. Pilot," he says, and it's weird, suddenly knowing how to pilot ships he's never sat at the controls for, before. Sure, he's learned how to pilot a quinjet and even a helicopter. But that's different. This is different. "Did anybody make you watch The Matrix? That's how it feels."

Of course, he's not so sure Steve understands. "Did you really need an augment to be security?"

He'll lay off the cop bit. For now.

Steve's head pops up, the fact that his ship needs a pilot on the tip of his tongue before he thinks better about it. Honestly, despite the shared history, the two of them have just met. Sort of. Kind of. At any rate, the first ship is assigned so Steve would rather just hope than put that sort of pressure on his friend.

"I don't think so, really. Honestly I would have rather had something new to give me an edge up around here. Engineering or something like that. But at least I know how to use all of their weapons." Steve takes the moment of Bucky pausing with the ball to walk over and sock the bag with a few firm punches. And if he punches it so it swings at Bucky? Coincidence. Clearly.

"The first officer on my ship is even trying to make me a shield. He's no Howard but it'd be nice to have one." Which...actually. "I can see if he'd be willing to make you one, too? I bet you're just as attached."

Bucky definitely notices Steve's attention come up like a bloodhound's, but Steve doesn't say anything, so Bucky just narrows his eyes a little, but leaves him be - at least until Steve comes over, and don't think he doesn't know what you're doing, Rogers. Bucky tosses the ball back to Steve so he can bring his arm around to block the bag, ending up catching it and just using it as something to hold on to, for a minute, considering that information. And that offer.

A Steve who knows how to use the weapons around here but hasn't been able to break out. Same for Natasha, and he's heard Thor is here, too. All this is really telling him is he'd better get comfortable - partly which is against his nature, but partly which is appealing, because goddamned Steve is standing here right next to him, and that's something Bucky doesn't think he could walk away from even if he had to. He's selfish. Fucking sue him.

"I - yeah," he ends up saying, about the shield. "Yeah, I guess I kinda am." In truth, he's attached because it's the only piece of Steve he has. It's the only piece of home. But in addition to that, he has grown kind of comfortable with it. He feels wrong without its weight at his back, after so long carrying it around. "Although I'd be interested in learning more about those other weapons, too. You think you could teach me?" He might be used to having a shield on his back, but he's also used to a trigger under his finger.

Steve catches the ball easily, grinning like the brat he was as Bucky grabs the bag and holds it. "I'll ask Hux next time I talk to him. He's still working out a good metal so I don't know that we'll get it soon. I've also heard we can sometimes get gifts from home here, if we're popular. Maybe one of us can get lucky."

Steve sets the ball down and punches into the bag as Bucky holds it. If this doesn't bring back boxing lessons nothing will. Although this time Steve's holding back instead of giving it his all. No need to test their strength against one another when he already knows how it will go. This is just being playful between super soldiers.

"I am trying to get access to a shooting range, once we are out of this place. So you can beat everyone including me with your aim." Steve peers around the bag to smirk. "Show off."

Bucky can't deny that there's something that makes him giddy inside, seeing Steve big and strong and healthy like this. It's not new, no - but it's new enough. He felt that way every time Steve pulled off some move that was so ridiculous it had actually worked, during the war. Proud. Warm. Almost playful, sometimes - and definitely playful, now. It's a weird feeling to have bubbling up inside him, and a hard one to ignore.

"Damn straight I'm gonna beat everyone." He jerks his chin up a little after a few punches."Your left shoulder's too high. You still carry the shield on that side, huh?"

And, a moment later, "What are there weapons for, anyway? Not that I'm complaining, but..."

Steve pauses a little and the smile on his face takes up more than half of it. God, this is what he needed after all the crap of Calibrations. Something easy and familiar and forget the fact that this Bucky isn't technically 'his'. He's his right now. He has a piece of his past back with him and it's correcting his form just like he used to. Steve lowers his shoulder and tries to hit at the bag again, off-balance from the adjustment but leaning into it.

"I don't know about the weapons," he finally gets to. "I asked and I heard something about a planet of zombies, but I've also heard we don't revisit planets all that often, if at all. So who knows what we're going to get up to, next."

His mind turns back to his ship. His pilot-less ship. And he's only human to point out: "My ship has the heaviest artillery. The captain is...sort of a war-loving alien. She didn't spare any expense to make sure we're a tank."

Bucky puts his attention, just for a second, into actually critiquing Steve's form - "Better," he says through a smile, because it is. If Steve's got no shield here, for however long, then he's gonna have to learn how to fight - in this body - without one. Bucky knows Steve probably doesn't need him to step in and help him finish his fights anymore, not like he used to, but... this feels like some small way he can still do his part, step in and protect Steve, even if not physically. Making Steve a better fighter is probably the best thing Bucky can do, these days, to protect him.

Besides. It's almost fun.

Except for the part where it comes with planets of zombies. "Sounds like a real party," Bucky snorts, though there's something serious under his expression. Even if they don't revisit planets, the fact that there are clearly hostile ones out there isn't surprising, but it also isn't comforting. "Huh," Bucky considers, trying to picture whatever the hell spaceship Steve is normally on. It mostly, in his mind, ends up looking like a smaller version of the space they're confined to now. "So you're still front and center, if anything comes up," he comments, because - well, isn't that just how things work out. He doubts Steve would've been happy on a ship that focused on defense. "Hope your aim with space cannons is better than your aim with a Colt," he teases - though Steve's no slouch, thanks to the serum. Bucky's just being a brat. It feels comfortable, comforting. "C'mon, lemme see if you can throw a decent kick."

Steve remembers Rumlow. He remembers that instant, gut-punch feeling when he looked up at Steve and told him that Bucky remembered him. He hadn't been lying to Wanda, later; the minute the name was out there, Steve was sixteen again. He was sitting on a roof passing absolutely terrible alcohol back and forth as fireworks brought in the birthday he was never supposed to have. And he remembers it now because Steve gets that same gut-punch now when Bucky casually compliments his form and Steve is thrown back to his youth, desperate both to have Bucky's approval and to appear utterly indifferent to it at the same time.

He gives another punch, careful to match the one he was told was better, and smirks at the next request.

"My aim is just fine, jerk," he argues. And as though to prove it, Steve turns fast to move just around the bag to extend a kick right into the side of Bucky's ass. It's not hard but he didn't hold back as much as he would with others. His friend can take it and Steve is feeling surprisingly playful, all things considered. He slides back, as though daring Bucky to come after him, now.

Sixteen again. Sixteen and finally healthy enough to mess around with the bigger kids without risk of dying.

"Decent enough?"

Bucky just keeps watching for a moment, an approving look in his eyes, and you know what? He is not surprised in the least when his taunt is answered with a swift boot to the ass. He sees it coming - at least, once Steve is already in motion and can't really be stopped - so he doesn't even try, though he doesn't stumble with the hit, either. He can tell Steve didn't hit him at full force, but the fact that he also didn't hold back completely is what has Bucky grinning, not even really thinking about it as he moves, shoving the bag at Steve - and instead of coming around the side he's already on, he twists and spins around the back of the bag to come at Steve from the other side while Steve's ideally still occupied with catching the bag, and aims a playful punch of about the same intensity right at his ribs.

This is dumb. It's dumb and it feels so good, because he never got to do this with his Steve. He never had this, and he somehow manages to miss it despite that fact.

They might be prisoners, and a gilded cage is still a cage, but... some things are worth paying with your freedom for, and time with Steve is one of them.

"I guess it was all right, punk."

Steve barks out a laugh as the bag trick is used against him and Bucky smacks into his ribs. It's a good, solid punch that's all at one just like the ones he received from The Winter Soldier and nothing like it at all. It has the form and the precision of his friend but the lighter touch is what makes it friendly instead of deadly. God, he's always wanted to be able to spar with Buck. Being able to now is like a long-dead dream being brought back to life.

And then Bucky calls him a punk. And it almost steals the air out of the room how badly Steve wants to stay here and never leave.

He exhales out hard and tries to laugh, getting into a sparring position and measuring the distance between them with a playful swipe at Bucky's hands. "Ya know? I forgot you were older than me, sometimes. But not now." Steve feints to the left before swinging a hook into Bucky's shoulder. This one is harder than the last, encouraging Bucky to actually fight. "You definitely hit like a hundred year old man."

"Oh, is everybody you spar with a hundred-year-old man?" Bucky points out, this time actually taking a step back with the weight of Steve's punch, but he can take a hint. And the hint is, Fight back. It's okay. I can take it. "No wonder you're so sloppy."

Truth is, Steve's not sloppy - he's Steve, which means he gets away on the serum and the sheer fact that because he was never really formally trained, he's more than a little unpredictable. Then again, he always was - most people run away from the danger. Not towards it.

But Steve isn't most people.

Bucky's not, either, though - he knows boxing, and he knows a coupe of other things, too - SHIELD has plenty of people who are on par with the best martial artists and hand-to-hand combatants in the world, and he'd be stupid not to take advantage of them. When Steve hits him in the shoulder, Bucky takes the hit - before both hands shoot out and grab Steve by the forearm, ideally with the goal of flipping him and getting him on the floor. It's a move most people could't pull on Steve, because he just plain outweighs them - but while Bucky's a little slighter, he's got the strength and bulk from the serum and a real, actual diet targeted to what he needs on his side. Once SHIELD figured out he had a version of the serum, they were pretty quick to figure out how to capitalize on it. And Bucky has to admit, he's bulked up a little in the past two years. So they must be on to something.

And he'll be on Steve - literally - if he goes down, planning to drop on his middle and pin him there, but ready to spring back if he can't actually pull it off. Sometimes a strategic retreat is your best bet.

Steve laughs even as his body is thrown over Bucky and lands on the mat. It's a good spin. It's a great spin, actually. Steve is breathless and grinning as Bucky goes to get on top of him but thankfully this is an area where Steve thrives. The good thing about being a small little shrimp was the practice one got being on the ground. Steve was always knocked down at some point or another. Bucky should have known bettre than to put Steve in his element.

As soon as Bucky moves for the pin, Steve's leg is out and wrapped around his knee to stop it from having any sort of motion. From there it's just physics to shove Bucky over and pin him himself, as long as Bucky isn't expecting the move. And if he's not and Steve manages to get him down, there's going to be two hands on either side of Bucky's shoulders and muscular legs bracketing his hips. 'You're down and you're staying there' this move says. Just like the flash in Steve's eyes dares him to get out of it.

"I dunno. It had to be my training. Someone lazy tried to teach me how to fight, couple years ago. Did a shit job, I guess."

Bucky was not, in fact, expecting that move - you little shit.

Except he's grinning, because, "Huh. Not bad." Because that is exactly Steve's strength - doing the unexpected. Treating his body like it's a completely different one. And damn, if Bucky should've known. He'll remember it next time.

Right now, there's something about the flash of Steve's eyes that has him tossing out the possibility of saying uncle. Like hell is he just rolling over - literally, apparently - and giving up. So he just hums, makes like he's going to make some remark - and jerks upward, smacking his forehead into Steve's nose.

If he does this right, it's probably gonna bleed. A lot. Might even break.

He probably shouldn't be as okay with either of those ideas as he is, but Steve's built like a tank, and Bucky knows he takes advantage of it. So Bucky is gonna take advantage of it, too. With Steve, it's all or nothing, and he is definitely not bringing nothing to the table, here.

"Argh!" Steve fell back with the headbutt because, fucking ow, that broke his nose for sure. He raised his hand up and pulled back blood, streaming from the wound like he was a kid again. God, how many times had his nose broken? They were sure it would be crooked like a boxer. His ma had even rebroken it once to make sure it wouldn't. Even this is familiar to him. And even through the pain and the reflexive tears a broken nose brings to the eyes, Steve is smiling and laughing.

"You're such a jerk!" But it's said with such obvious warmth that it's clear he's holding no hostility. Besides, it will be healed within an hour, maybe two tops. And he got it from his friend in an honest to god sparring match. Strangely enough, nothing could be better.

He pinches the bridge and tilts his head up just like every wrong mother in the 20's advised their kids to do. The blood runs down his throat just like he remembers. He's not felt this young in fucking years. It makes him feel like he can take on anything, all over again, all with a garbage can lid as his shield.

"You are such a jerk, Buck. Broke my nose."

Bucky would feel bad - maybe he does, just a little - but it's actually kind of hard when Steve looks like this is the best thing that's happened to him all day. He probably thinks so.

So Bucky figures he's allowed to feel just a little smug, for having gotten the drop on Steve, even as he sits up and reaches around with careful fingers, this time and, touching the back of the top of Steve's head, gently tips it forward. "Yeah, because you left yourself wide open for it. You're supposed to tilt your head forward, idiot."

Never let it be said that he's not a gracious winner. Or that he didn't take about six SHIELD first aid classes when he was bored (and having trouble sleeping, but that made him bored), last year.

"Stay here, lemme get something to clean up the mess," he says, and there's a grin beneath his voice (and on his face), before he disappears to find a towel or something, be it in the corner of the gym, the kitchen, or the bathrooms. He's back soon enough, squatting down and offering the towel out, not even sure if Steve might've stopped bleeding already, but there'll still be plenty of blood to clean up. "Just like old times," he murmurs - although admittedly, Bucky wasn't the one breaking Steve's nose back then. If he'd even wanted to, he would've had to get in line.

Steve spends the time Bucky's gone mostly just waving off anyone's concern and making sure his nose stops bleeding like it's supposed to. It's the first real injury he's gotten since coming here so there was nothing else to prove he'd still have the same healing ability. Well, except for the time he punched his wall. But that didn't really count.

Luckily it's mostly done by the time Bucky is back with the towel but there's still blood all over his hands and face. Steve dabs at it carefully, his nose still tender but already feeling a little bit better than before. Thank God for Erskine. He looks up at Bucky around the fabric and rolls his eyes.

"In the old times you complained a heck of a lot more about my broken noses," he points out. "And ma woulda boxed your ears if you'd have done it to me. Right after she let your ma atcha." He hasn't thought about Mrs. Barnes for awhile, actually. She was gone by the time he'd been unfrozen and so had some of Bucky's sisters, too.

That thought pauses Steve for a moment because, in his timeline, that had been painful enough for him to learn. But in Bucky's? God. Steve can't even imagine. Slowly he reaches out, just in case he stirred up some memories and squeezes his friend's shoulder.

"Serum or no serum she woulda had you back in your room nursing a sore head."

There is definitely something in Bucky that relaxes, once he sees that Steve's nose really has stopped bleeding, for the most part. He snorts at the comeback, but it's pretty much true - all of it, including the bit about Steve's ma, and his own.

Maybe his smile goes a little tighter, but it's practically imperceptible. If there's one thing he regrets, really, it's that his mother went to her grave thinking she'd outlived her son. And that he's got younger sisters who did the same, when he should have gone first. Gone for real, not just spent the decades as a popsicle in a downed plane.

But then Steve's squeezing his shoulder, and Bucky huffs a little; he knows Steve's just teasing, and it's fine. "In the old times, I'm not the one who gave 'em to you. Maybe I'm just proud of my handiwork."

But, "Yeah. They both would've." He grins a little. "Now it's you who gets the sore head - lucky, huh?" He reaches up, tilting Steve's head a bit. "We don't need to set it, do we?" It's probably a pretty clean break, but it's worth checking. "You'll just complain more if I've gotta break it twice."

"Do I sound like I'm complainin'?" Steve wrinkles his nose instinctively at the thought and winces hard as he irritates the fractured bone. But at least it moved. That was a good sign that it was probably already starting to mend up. He'd probably be all set again before he laid down for bed. "You got a lucky shot, Buck. And that's not happening again."

He reaches out to punch at Bucky's shoulder, once again not light.and not hard but somewhere in between. Even with a broken nose he loves this rough-housing. The training he never got a chance to really do with his friend. And, even if this isn't really his friend, the differences are starting to blend out. Or maybe Steve just decided to stop paying attention to them.

He touches around his bridge and it's swollen but feels about normal. It should mend alright.

"Tell you what," Steve offers. "You need to break mine again and I'll break yours. In solidarity. That's what friends are for, right?"

"You always sound like you're complaining," Bucky points out -- totally straight-faced, but he's definitely spouting shit. Though, "Of course I did," he adds, smugly. "And I'd better not get it again - you're supposed to learn."

He's grinning, though - Steve looks fine, even if his face is a little swollen and bruised; Bucky knows it'll go down quickly, and it's certainly not a look he hasn't seen on Steve before. And when Steve punches him in the shoulder, there's still plenty of force behind it - which tells Bucky he's just fine.

So does the "offer," such as it is - which makes Bucky snort. "I don't think that's actually what friends are for, pal," he says, the corner of his mouth ticking up because he just can't seem to keep a straight face. It's pretty awful. (It's not awful at all.) "Come on. You got something clean to wear in your room, or are we gonna have to wash your shirt out in the sink?"

Bucky's clothes also have some amount of blood on them, which he's gonna have to clean up at some point, too.

Steve looks down at his shirt and. Yeah. Okay, it's a mess. He groans a little but shakes his head and waves Bucky forward. "C'mon. My room has a change." It's not glamorous, just some grey shirts he found around that were about his size. That means they'll be just a little big on Bucky but at least they're not splattered with blood. That's an improvement.

Steve leaves the gym and gets a look at himself in one of the shiny windows. The bruises are livid now which means they'll be yellowing and fading sooner than not. His nose is puffy and the blood around it either smeared or dried. Steve pauses to gingerly clean it up just a little more.

When he wrinkles his nose again, the pain is less. He'll be fine soon.

"So," he starts companionably. "How's Calibrations treating you? Or am I the only lucky one that got you messing around in their head?" Steve's been in so many, by now. Too many. He'd love to just rest and sleep it off but he knows what falling asleep means. He'd rather struggle through as long as he can. Not that he could stop it if be wanted to.

God, he hates feeling helpless.

"And what about you? Anyone poking around upstairs? I expect there's a lot of room for them to spread out."

Bucky just nods, happy to fall into step behind Steve. He does not have an overabundance of spare clothes, himself, so he'll take what he can get.

Even if it's weird, these days - after Rebirth - to be able to share clothes with Steve, and have Steve's be the clothes that are too big. (Fortunately, only by a little.)

Bucky makes a soft noise as he follows in his friend's footsteps. "So far, just you," he says - almost thoughtfully, before he shoves at Steve's right shoulder from behind. "Excuse you, my brain is full of - stuff," he says, maybe with a little bit of a laugh at the end. "More'n yours. But no, I don't think so. I'd remember it, right?" Steve remembers Bucky being in his, and Bucky remembers being there, too... He definitely remembers it, and the weirdly invasive, intimate feeling it's left him with. He spend most of his adult life living in Steve's pocket, and vice versa. But sharing space is different than sharing thoughts and memories. You can choose what you say to someone. This was... different.

"How long has it been going on?"

★ 1 | ACTION ★

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