Action | Who needs a gosh dang drink??

[brooklyn_boy]

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.

Comments

[stillgotmyleftarm]

[The fact of the matter is, Bucky had said he'd follow Steve, and that promise hasn't changed. It won't change. Steve needs someone to watch his six, and Bucky's gotten pretty damned good at it. The fact that there are two Steves here now, trapped, in need of some watching really only reinforces the need to stay - which simply crystalizes into a real, tangible plan when Steve, here and now, says he's going to stick it out. Bucky doesn't know what good he can do here, but whatever it is... he's going to do it.]

Maybe she will, [he muses with a quirk of a smile, in a tone of voice that says he's not surprised, and maybe even pleasantly so.] I guess we'll just have to see. I'm sure one of us'll end up keeping score.

[But the rest of what Steve says drops the smile mostly off his face. He lets out a breath that isn't quite a sigh, but is pretty close, watching his friend with an expression that's definitely serious and sad underneath.] I know, [he says, softly, because - he does. Steve Rogers kind of has some of the shittiest luck... and yet at the same time, some people might argue that his luck is ridiculously good. He's survived, after all - both of him - and he's still here, but while maybe that is lucky, it feels like the price he's been made to pay along the way is unreasonably high.

Some days, some really bad days, Bucky will let himself think about his own luck... and it kind of balances out to the same, when he's being honest for five whole seconds.

He reaches out, hand falling on Steve's shoulder and staying there.] If there's one thing I've learned about you, it's that something being dumb or dangerous doesn't stop you from doing it.

[What he's saying - what he's trying to say - is that yeah. Hope is dangerous. But it's the most precious thing a guy can have. And Steve shouldn't - can't - give that up.] Let 'em hear. [He glances up, too.] We can't control it. Maybe we never will. But even when you were wearin' tights, pal, you didn't really do it for entertainment. [He'd done that for hope, too.]

[brooklyn_boy]

[Steve's eyes shut. Years pass over him, then. Years when his optimism would give out and the sickness would ear him into a husk. When hunger had him wondering what options they had left. When the two of them would sit with nothing. Nothing but the other man in the room with him and somehow, Bucky could make that be enough. The Avengers all thought that Steve was the pillar of truth and hope. The reality was that he'd had only a handful of people he trusted to see his cracks. People who he could lean on as they both got the spackle and repaired the damage together. Peggy. Sam. Nat.

And always Bucky.

He reaches up where that hand is warm on his shoulder and gives it a short squeeze to say what words were inadequate for. After all, Steve had already said how much he missed his friend. How grateful he was for him. There was nothing else he could express that he hadn't already. And yet there was still more inside him he wished he knew how to say.]

Nah. I did it for the dames, too.

[His smile is watery along with his voice. Despite it, he looks up at Bucky, letting him see the emotion that always settled just under his skin. Letting him see the cracks, already getting filled in. Because yeah, Bucky was right. He'd done all of that for hope. And even if it was stupid, Steve had to believe in things working out. It just was who he was. Even if, sometimes, it took a lot more effort.

And a friend.]

Actually...speaking of danger... [He tries to divert, gracelessly, because otherwise he might embarrass himself even worse.] Think I should try to get all the candles on your cake, old man?

[stillgotmyleftarm]

[Bucky hates and loves seeing Steve like this - seeing Steve letting someone see the cracks, because it both means he can't handle shit on his own (which, of course he can't, nobody can) and because he trusts Bucky enough to let him see, if however briefly. It hasn't happened often. And while Bucky hates the way it makes him feel every time, some small part of him is honored when Steve opens up that small part of himself, to let Bucky in. He knows it's fucking hard, and he knows what it means, when he gets that glimpse.

He knows it also means he will do anything he can to help. It's not a question. It's a foregone conclusion, and it has been ever since the day he met Steve.

But this time, what he sees in Steve - the bad, and the good - feels like it's simply a mirror image of what he's feeling, himself: the way it's so easy to fall back into this friendship, despite the fact that they, technically, were never friends - and the way that doesn't matter. The way they've found each other, in the face of what happened to their own best friends.

It's so fucking complicated, and yet so simple.]

Too bad that backfired on you, [is all he says, for a moment, just watching Steve's face. Holding his eyes with his own. Letting Steve know that Bucky can see, that Bucky understands, and that he doesn't have any solution other than the one that Steve's found. And he's willing to back that up, with everything he has.

Steve's diversion definitely isn't graceful, but Bucky's willing to give it to him. Otherwise they're going to have to get even drunker, and he's not too drunk yet to realize that.]

I dunno, [he says, looking thoughtful.] Does it mean I get a bigger cake?

[brooklyn_boy]

[Steve shrugs his shoulder and adjusts to the new conversation. He still feels the hollow ache where his strength usually rises up to meet him but it's lesser now. Bucky is here to hold him up. He's here to add his strength to Steve's when it fails. It's enough. It's more than enough to have him standing and moving to the next task where his pain is less.]

Given the fact that I have no idea what baking ingredients I can or can't get for you, are you sure you want a bigger cake? It might have a secret, protein gel middle. Your favorite.

[Sure, they lived during the Depression but even then the food at least had flavor. Boiled potatoes and meat didn't taste great but they could be salted and given some garlic if the families next door felt like sharing. Protein gel is just...unnatural. Flavorless toothpaste that you can't even get a chew on. Steve sucks it down for calories but even then he'd almost rather starve.

He drinks long, remembering that slippery feeling. God, if he gets a sponsor drop, let it just be food.]

If you don't mind that, yeah. A nice big cake all for you, pal. And enough candles that everyone in the Fleet can see it from the sky.

[stillgotmyleftarm]

[Bucky definitely makes a face at that.] God, that stuff is disgusting - and I really thought I had seen it all. [Because what Steve's thinking is right - they'd eaten a lot of bad food, but at least it had been food. Protein gel is like eating toothpaste - and exactly as appealing as it sounds.] I'd pay for those damn rations they gave us near Belgium. D'you remember the ones? I think they were fuckin' left over from the Great War.

[He waves his hand a little, definitely feeling the buzz now. But he's feeling it enough that imagining a cake - one that tastes good - is easy and appealing.] Tell you what - leave out the protein gel, and maybe I won't start walking around with a fire extinguisher that I might just happen to miss the cake and get you in face with.

[He makes a soft noise, glancing back at the bottle like he might see about making the dregs disappear.] Never thought I'd need that many candles. Not once the draft started.

[brooklyn_boy]

[Steve laughs. No one calls World War I the Great War anymore. It's nice to hear and, yeah. Yeah those rations were absolutely left over from then. They'd been horrible and Steve'd had to eat so many just to make sure he got enough food for his miserable metabolism. He would have preferred to eat the mud outside, instead.]

I'll see what I can do. But you hit me with that fire extinguisher and I'm gonna make sure everything you eat for the next week has to be in gel form. [He makes a small fist, circling it in the threat they both know is completely hot air. Still, he taps a knuckle against Bucky's jaw, light as he softens up himself with that small noise.]

I told you when your letter came: you were gonna come back or I was gonna drag you back to kill ya myself. [He didn't know it would be so literal. Nor did he really think the threat would keep his friend alive. God, he'd stayed awake for nights just staring at Bucky, wondering if these were their last days together.]

I took stock in candles. Wasn't gonna let you ruin my investment just 'cause you got your number pulled.

[stillgotmyleftarm]

So, no different than usual, [Bucky comments, sounding unimpressed - and mostly pulling it off, except for the corner of his mouth that's trying to twitch up into a stupid smile.

He can't help it. Joking around with Steve like this feels almost forbidden, like something that's going to be snatched away at any second - and he's determined to enjoy every single second of it he gets.

Even as he remembers Steve saying that. As he remembers how things changed, with that letter - how everything changed.

And he can't help it; he sobers up a little, grows silent for a moment, before saying, quietly,] M'not sure whether this counts or not. [As coming back, he means. It feels a little like it, watching Steve now. He knows he's not the right Bucky for this Steve; that this Steve isn't right for him. But even then... both of their best friends have come back. They just don't seem sure whether they want to be friends at all.

It's a fucking mess.

He reaches over, puts a hand on Steve's shoulder and squeezes.] You got me, pal. 'Till he comes around.

[brooklyn_boy]

It counts.

[Steve sees Bucky at his side and it's still such an answered prayer that he doesn't know what to do with it. The man he'd lost all those years ago survived and is here beside him, squeezing his shoulder and smiling at him. The different universes stand between them but here? Here there's nothing that separates them. And it counts. More than counts.

He reaches up and pats on Bucky's hand before just gripping it for a squeeze of his own.]

And it's 'till the end of the line, Buck. Or did you forget?

[stillgotmyleftarm]

[Bucky snorts softly; it's almost a sad sound, though he does his best at the last second to make sure it's not.]

Yeah, I remember.

[He'd just been so sure they'd already hit it. Now he knows they haven't... in so many senses of the word. And he definitely didn't expect a do-over - let alone two. It feels like the other shoe's gonna drop, and he doesn't know what will happen if - when - it does.

But right now? Fuck the other shoe. He'll deal with it when he fucking deals with it. Which is not right now.]

End of the line it is, then.

[He pokes at the bottle still on the counter between them, watching the little bit of liquid slosh inside it.] How about we get to the end of this bottle, first?

Wrap

[brooklyn_boy]

[Steve beams, the liquor making his face looser than even normal with his emotions. He picks up the bottle and takes a short sip before letting it slide back over to Bucky.

His hand stays on Bucky's knee, squeezing it.]

Whatever you say, pal.