driftfleet | Action | Who needs a gosh dang drink??

Entry tags:

Action | Who needs a gosh dang drink??

Who: Steve and everyone else who just needs to get drunk. One closed to existing CR
Broadcast: No
Action: The Iskaulit/Space Bar
When: Post Calibrations/Bombing the eff out of Marsiva

[OPEN]

Tony would probably be proud of Steve, if he were able to see him right now. He'd slap his back and welcome him back to the world of inebriation while ordering shots for everyone in the bar to commemorate the day. As it is, though, Tony isn't here and, without him, there's not a damn person who would feel proud in this entire bar. That's part of it's charm.

Steve sighs and swallows his fourth drink. It's strong and alien and somehow enough to give him a strong buzz but not enough to really get him drunk. Not yet, at least. But he's not a quitter, so bottom's up! He hisses a little at the burn of it and feels, not for the first time, like he was being a coward. He saw some stuff in those rooms, sure. But other people had it so much worse. Saw so much more. He should really be thankful, actually.

But he's not. And this is a 30's approved way of getting over trauma. There were worse ways of coping, he was sure. So for now he's just going to stay in his seat and keep ordering drinks until that elusive drunken state hits him once more.

Should only take another hour or three.

[CLOSED TO EXISTING CR]

No one could blame Steve for starting. He'd messaged his friends about fifteen minutes ago, telling them to meet him at the bar for some drinks. But just sitting here, waiting? It was done better with a drink in hand to look social, at least. And it's not like that one is going to be his last. No, after Calibrations he can imagine himself coming over here quite often. He can imagine all of them coming here quite often, in fact. But maybe tonight (today? Space was hard to judge) would help take some of the sting off. Or at least some of the awkwardness.

But it wasn't as though they <i>chose</i> to share all of that. Loki, Steve is sure, would have preferred to keep his death to himself. And Thor? I am sure half of those memories were things he'd rather not have replayed over and over again. And <i>Hux</i>. God... That was just what Steve knew of. Who knew what other people had put his friends through? What they'd been through themselves?

Steve preemptively orders another drink for whoever shows up first. Whoever it was, he's sure they won't say no. Not now.

First round is on him.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"As I understand it, they're just waiting for when they can go home. Until then, they're refugees." And there's not much that anyone here can do about it. She rubs the back of her neck, then finishes her drink. "But they're alive, so I guess it could be worse."

For Natasha, it about the worst thing that's happened in Drift Fleet. Probably the second or third worst thing she ever saw.

"There's something else I owed you." Natasha circles back, because if she doesn't then she'll never find the right time. "I told you before I'd have an answer, that I'd let you know when I'd go back to if I could."

Steve had almost forgotten, but this return puts a warm smile on his face. Nat is one of his closest friends so he knows what it means for her to be trusting him with something like this. He leans forward, showcasing how she has all of his attention, now. Undivided.

"Yeah. You do. Did you come up with something?"

"I did." Natasha remembers what Vision said about opening up more, and the Iron Bull. Apparently she hasn't been all that good at concealing the fact that she doesn't have the support network she should. That alone might not be enough to get Natasha to say it, but... she'd rather tell Steve herself than have him find out some of the things she's held back because the Fleet decided to expose her secrets.

Plus, he had shared with her. Maybe that sort of thing shouldn't be transactional. Reciprocal, though? She could aim for that.

"The funny thing is, it happened here. And it might be more like your pick than you'd expect." Is that funny, if they'd both chose to be with Barnes? "The time that keeps coming to mind was two years ago, Barnes's birthday."

Steve smiles but the edges of it are showing his confusion. He knew they were friends, after all. Here probably better than he could know. But at home, he can still remember that Natasha hadn't completely trusted him. Hadn't gotten on their side until the end and Steve really doesn't know what was going to happen next with their group. With them.

Maybe this is going to give him a hint.

"His birthday?" Steve has memories of birthdays past. What would it have looked like, here? "Did you have it on a fun planet or something?"

"Not really. It was quiet, no plans. But it was the first time we kissed." That's a pretty big hint, she thinks. It's also not entirely true, because there had been New Year's Eve before it, but that hadn't been a real kiss. Just a peck. "We had been friendly for a few months. Before that it was more like allies. We got in a routine where I'd sneak onto his ship and leave things behind to prove I'd been there. Testing his security."

Souvenirs. Notes. Bullets in his coffee much. Tiny teddy bears. Whatever struck her fancy.

"For his birthday, I got him a combat knife but I didn't want that to be the only thing he got, so I kissed him." It had made sense in context. Then she'd teased him that since he was turning a hundred, maybe she should do it a hundred times. "We didn't actually recognize the relationship for a few more months. It was just playing around—it was good."

And in retrospect, that's when she thinks she started really getting soft on him.

Steve's eyebrows hit his hairline at the first 'kissed'. At the second, they just stay there, the rest of Steve's face surprisingly blank. He didn't know what he'd been expecting but it hadn't been Natasha and Bucky in a relationship. He didn't even know how to feel about it, given the fact that the Bucky's he knew were both too broken and too different to really gauge comparatively. But it did make sense. The more he thought about it, actually, the more it made sense.

Nat was a spy. Bucky, after Hydra, was almost the exact same mold of Russian killer that Natasha was. Of course they got along and of course Bucky would fall for someone as gorgeous as her. Who could understand what he was going through so much better than anyone else could.

It all made sense.

Steve's face carefully turns up into a smile, eyebrows still trying to find the sky. "Oh," he says, finally, voice high. "Oh. Right. Wow."

He clears his throat and tries again.

"Yeah, that sounds...real nice. I can understand why that would be the time you wanted to get back to."

But after his shock wears off, the realization of what this all means hits Steve between the ribs. Bucky had been here. Had been with Nat and had been here. A different Bucky than the ones he knew now.

Which meant he was gone.

Finally Steve's face stops looking shocked and starts going soft again.

"Oh. Oh, Nat. How...long has he been gone for?"

"A few months. Almost half a year now, actually." Which, as luck would have it, is about how long Natasha has known about what happened back home. Telling James had been one of her last conversations with him.

"He'd been here longer than I had. You wouldn't believe how far he'd come here."

That brings a warm smile to his face, eyes shining just a little at the thought. At the reminder that he had to do it all over. And who knew if he'd manage it the same time. If he'd get to the same place of peace again. Just to have it all taken away.

And then die.

"Tell me about him?"

Natasha smiles slightly at the question, fond and sad in equal measure. "I'm not sure what there is to say. You know him, but at the same time he'd had a chance to heal. I think there way maybe a little more of the man you used to know. At the same time, you can't go back can you? He was strong, and thoughtful, and sad. He was also a nerd—he made me read the Lord of the Rings."

Technically, he read them to her.

"And then sometimes he was a surprising flirt."

The next laugh is watery but fond as well. He smiles, thinking of what that Bucky must have been like. What their relationship must have been like, together. It must be killing Nat to have lost it. Steve thinks back to the moment Bucky fell off the train and wonders if he knows a fraction of what it must feel like.

"He was a flirt. God. He could charm every girl in town. How else do you think anyone agreed to date me?"

The nerd part isn't new either and Steve has to look down at his drink, the memories overcoming him.

"He was never sad, before. Not like how he is, after it all. You probably were what helped him through it."

"I'd like to think so." She'd like to believe they helped each other with it. Sometimes even just by being there for each other when their respective ghosts were particularly loud.

Her drink arrives and she's quick to sip it. Not nervous, but it gives her something to do with her hands rather than fidget or remain unnaturally still.

"I thought you should know."

"I'm not his keeper," he says, sipping his own. "I'm glad that you found someone. Both of you found someone. I can see how you both could be really good together."

Steve thought the same about Bruce, he remembers. Before he'd left. And then Bucky, before he'd left too. How much was Nat going to have to lose before she got something she could hold onto?

"I'm sorry. You deserved better than to have that ripped away." He thinks he knows the answer to this, but he asks all the same:

"How are you doing? Since?"

"That's not why I thought you should know," Natasha tells him. It's hard to put into words why he should. All of the reasons he should. Ultimately, it might be because more than Vision or Thor, she thinks Steve knows what it's like to see someone important with that blank look in their eyes.

Barnes had other friends here. She could probably talk to the Bull about it. He'd offered as much.

But Steve is Steve.

"I'm grateful for the time I got with him. Neither of us thought it would last forever." And she wishes that were the end of her answer, that she really did have her emotions on such a tight lock down that could be the end of it. "Otherwise... I keep going. But it's been hard having him back like this."

Then, after a pause: "Twice."

His eyes don't leave Nat as he considers his next move. Around them is the sounds of talking and laughing. People who can see them and see Nat as she talks about this personal matter. One that Steve can see cut her to the quick no matter how many layers of wax she tries to hide it with.

He throws his drink back. "Finish yours," he orders. "We're gonna go take a walk someplace where we can talk better. Alright?"

It's an offer for privacy thinly veiled. Nat is tough and so is he but tough doesn't mean invulnerable.

Trust Bucky Barnes to have shot both of them in the gut.

Natasha hesitates. There's a kind of safety being somewhere public. It's exposed, but it also removes the temptation to go too deep, reveal too much. She can keep her voice down, put on a stoic face, and avoid talking about anything that makes her too vulnerable. If it's just Steve, then she might let her guard down.

Maybe too late for that, though. That look he's giving her says that even if most people wouldn't see just how thin she's been worn, he has.

He finishes her drink. "A walk sounds good."

Steve leads the way out and down the nearest hallway that looks empty. He's not sure where he's going but Nat's been here enough that he's sure he won't go tumbling out an airlock or into some gladiatorial match. He doesn't much care where they end up, honestly. Just as long as it's private enough to continue talking.

As soon as they clear the bar crowd, he clears his throat in warning and:

"Your Bucky. What time was he from?"

"By that time, he'd remembered the accords." She answers that softly. She remembers when Barnes had got those memories. How he'd insisted on apologizing to Tony when Tony was in a rage and Steve didn't know what had actually happened at all.

She'd lost sleep trying to smooth over what she could then.

That was before their relationship was more than cautiously friendly.

"When he first got here, I think he was about the same point as this Barnes. Just to confuse things, hm?"

He nods mutely. It helps not talking since then there's nothing to give away what a stab in the gut that is to find out. He'd gotten so far here and was now doing it all over again. Steve knows intellectually that Bucky won't remember that but, still. It's such a cruel thing to have happen.

"Are you..."

There's no graceful way of asking the question but Steve wants to make sure it doesn't come out the wrong way. He mulls it over a second.

"Are you going to...try and get that back? What got lost?"

"God, no." There's not even an instant of hesitation. She's thought about it, but she really never considered it as an option. Even when she did entertain the possibility, it was more of a masochistic mental exercise. "That wouldn't be fair to him. Wouldn't be fair to either of us."

And maybe she's not ready to be vulnerable like that again, either. Doesn't matter, because the logic is sound.

"He's had more than enough of people expecting him to be who they remember, someone he doesn't. I can't add to that. I'll be his friend, if he wants one. Anything else... I had what I had."

That comment hits like a knife. Steve looks at the floor as they walk, knowing it probably wasn't meant to be personal. God knows he still hasn't even made contact with the guy, after all. But still, he knows in his heart that the guy he's hoping will answer isn't the one there.

"It can't be easy for you." He knows a piece of the feeling. "Seeing him and knowing you're the only one who knows what happened. God, Nat. I can't imagine what that's like."

He puts his hand on her shoulder and squeezes. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry you're forced to deal with this."

He remembers a man turning on a bridge and looking at him with zero recognition. He remembers how that moment had felt. How it still feels. "If you wanna talk, you know I'm here, right? Any time."

Natasha has the decency to wince when she tracks his expression. "I didn't mean it that way, Steve. And it wasn't just you."

She bites her lip. It's not like her to slip up that way—it really isn't what she meant. At the time it had been Steve and Peggy both, Howard Stark at times. She's not sure how to explain that she knows how that feels a little. Not the way Barnes did, but she also knew what it was like to come out of conditioning and not really feel like a person.

It was different, but close enough she'd found it easy to sympathize with his situation. At the time she'd decided to take Barnes as he came. That hasn't changed.

"You do know what it's like, though."

She leans into his hand a little. It's the only acknowledgement she gives his offer. That's more than she knows how to respond to it, even if the touch is comforting. Having Steve know is comforting.

It's frustrating though. She's supposed to be stronger than this.

The little lean is all he needs to wrap his arm around her shoulder and pull Nat into an awkward side hug. "It's different when you're in love with someone," he guesses. For all of Peggy's memory problems she may have forgotten he was alive but she never forgot him. He's not even sure how badly that might have stung. How painful it would be to hold all of the love that had once been carried in two hearts. He feels heavy enough just thinking about it.

"Did you get a chance to say goodbye?" He keeps his tone light knowing that each question digs another inch deeper into a mine-filled field. No one is gonna get hurt here, if he can help it. But he can't help but feel like getting Nat to talk about this is going to help.

"No." There's a little catch in her voice as she admits that, her chin dipping slightly. She doesn't argue that she was in love with him, even if she never said it enough. There were always dodges, euphemisms. She only ever used that actual word a handful of times.

"We don't usually get the opportunity." She snorts. Nice and vague when she says it like that. "We didn't get the opportunity. He left, and I got most of what he left behind. That's about it."

He closes his eyes. Yeah. Yeah, that's about what he expected. "Nat, I'm so sorry." Most people don't get a chance to say goodbye when they lose people. But then again, they don't usually have that same person walk back in and not even recognize you.

"When Bucky died... There was a lot I never said to him. Things I regretted." Things he still can't say and still regrets to this day. Things Bucky can't remember let alone forgive.

"At the end of the day you gotta trust what you had together spoke louder than those words.

"It still hurts like a bitch, though."

"Yeah, it does." Natasha leans against him briefly, her head resting against his shoulder for a second or two before she disentangles gently and wraps her arms around herself. "I think he knew. And I think I hoped he'd be back. It's happened before—Vision, for one. It was still possible. Didn't work out that way."

She laughs a little at that, though the humor is grim. "Twice."

The other Barnes is his own dilemma. It's easier not to see him as hers. On the other hand, the fact he's healthier and more stable brings its own kind of pangs. Natasha rubs under one eye with her thumb before it has the chance to tear up.

"Thanks for understanding."

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