punched_hitler | ☆ 6 ☆ (VIDEO)

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☆ 6 ☆ (VIDEO)

So I know it's only been two days, but anyone who's made it through two days of Basic so far - trust me. It could be worse. [He cocks a wry grin. Bucky's not the worst drill sergeant Steve's seen, and besides:] You could have asthma.

[Yeah, he's pretty sure he almost died at least ten times during Basic. And he got the much abbreviated version.

Anyway.]

If anyone's got any questions, or just wants to get in some extra practice with a different face, let me know. But, [he raises one finger,] I'm not your Drill Sergeant, and I'm not about to contradict anything he says just because you want to hear he's wrong - because he's not. [So just keep that in mind. Steve might be helping Bucky, but Bucky's in charge here.]

[PRIVATE TO MINDY MACREADY]
Hey. Just because I'm not your temporary warden anymore doesn't mean we need to ignore each other, right? Remember, I'm right down the hall if you need anything - whether it's a couch or a punching bag. [Literally or figuratively.

Still, he doesn't want to push. She doesn't seem like she'd respond well to that. He can only offer, she's got to take him up on it. So.] Otherwise... I'm sure I'll see you in the gym.

[PRIVATE TO VEX]
[He's seen Vex on the network, but they've never spoken. Now, though, it looks like that's going to have to change.] I guess I should introduce myself - I'm Captain Rogers. Or you can call me Steve. I admit, I don't know much about you - but I'd like to think I'm a pretty good listener.

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[Bucky has seemed more or less fine since getting started on his project. It's good to keep busy, and this has been helping fill true day nicely.

Except for some reason, he's been having pretty bad nightmares maybe every other day. He doesn't really remember what they're about once he's woken up, but he wakes up terrified all the same.

So maybe he looks a tiny bit worn out today, although not necessarily any more than he usually would after running around in the mud and rain for a couple hours. Maybe.]

Can I ask you something?

[And while Steve is glad that Bucky's got something to do - something he likes, because he does seem to like it, and Steve knows Bucky's sort of always been the guy to take care of others, so this is just a natural extension of that - he doesn't like it when Bucky looks worn out. It reminds him of all the things he can't do, and it reminds him of the way Bucky used to work himself to the bone to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table when Steve was laid up in bed. Maybe it's stupid, but there it is.

But mothering is not the solution. So.]

Yeah, of course. [You don't even have to ask to ask, stupid.]

[Abruptly, he feels awkward for asking, which is stupid. It's more what he wants to ask that makes him feel awkward, because it deals with a lot of stuff he doesn't really know how to put into words, or if he even wants to in the first place.

But he does ask.]

In the future, they still care about what we did, yeah? ["We" meaning the Allies in general, not really just Cap and the Commandos.] I've been reading a lot, trying to catch up, but-

[His expression twists into an uncertain half frown, because this seriously is like poking at a bruise, except in this case the bruise isn't visible and probably won't ever really heal, so he doesn't want to do much prodding at it.] I don't know. I knew people wouldn't get what it's like, but I just want to know.

[At least two conversations have happened recently that are making him kind of question it.]

[It does take a second for Steve to figure out exactly who the "we" Bucky's using means. Because despite the fact that people know who Captain America is... most of what's survived is the comics and the trading cards. Most of what he - they - did is omitted from the history books. He never needed that recognition, but it always struck a sore spot when Bucky gave his life (or so he thought) and it's rarely mentioned. He was always grateful that Smithsonian exhibit featured just as much about the Commandos as about him. He couldn't do anything he did alone.]

Some of them do. I've had a lot of guys come up to me, thank me for saving their grandfather. [He says it with a little bit of a smile, but the fact of the matter is, it's hard to joke when he gets what Bucky's asking, and why.]

The kids, though... they think it's in the distant past. I mean, you know what it's like. Sixty years ago might as well have been six hundred. Some kids think we didn't even have running water in the forties. [A shrug.]

We know what we did. It mattered. It changed everything. [And yet not so very much, but he doesn't have the heart to tell Bucky all of that.] We did the right thing. People might not know what it was like, but they know what we did.

[It helps, and it doesn't, because there's still a part of him that's... upset? Angry? Something, anyway, about it, because he'd known he'd be dealing with people who thought they knew what they were talking about, or thought they understood when they didn't, but it's one thing to know and another to be kind of experiencing it.

It's probably harder too because as far as he's concerned, it's still 1945. He might never get to go home. (Actually, he knows he won't, because like hell is he heading back to Brooklyn without Steve, only to be an old geezer by the time they dig him out of the iceberg.)]

Right. [Suck it up, Barnes. They won, they did it, they stopped them, the world's a better place.

If people want to make stupid assumptions and act like he's some caveman who doesn't understand how bad things can get, there's nothing he can really do to stop them.

He takes a breath and tries to feel less weighted down.]

Thanks.

[It did help a little. It's probably selfish to think this, but thank God Steve's here.]

[Yeah, he can tell that Bucky sounds only fractionally better. Better, yes, but it's not enough. And he knows how hard it is, when something like that war becomes your whole life - hell, his life changed because of it, in more ways than he can even count, anymore - and then you wake up seventy years later and everyone thinks it's ancient history. It hurts. No one wants to be forgotten, or belittled. And no one he fought with deserves that.]

I guess a part of me figures, if they can live a life that's safe enough to let them forget how bad it was… then that's what really matters. Right?

[Although another part of him knows that adage about history and being doomed to repeat it.

Besides, Steve will never not be glad to be here. He will never be ungrateful for what he's got, what he can do for Bucky right here and now, even though he knows it can't last.]

Besides, if anyone gives you shit about it - point me at 'em. I've got a mean right hook.

[Which is pretty much the Steve that Bucky's known his whole life talking, but he still (kind of) means it.]

[Exactly, the war kind of does feel like it's whole life. The future he'd considered back before he'd really gotten into the action feels so far off and impossible now, because even if he'd survived the war, how was he supposed to just start working at a bank, or selling life insurance, or even becoming a cop or whatever?

Even if he survived, he kind of doesn't feel like he'd be coming home from the war. Not really. This is just kind of who he is now, and he feels like he's made his peace with it.]

No one's giving me shit about it. [Bucky manages to sound somewhere between amused and petulant, like come on, Ma, I'm fine, cut it out, but there's still that edge to his voice.

He gets quiet again, and he's not sure if it's just because they're having the conversation over the network instead of in person that makes this easier to talk about, or if he's just relieved to have someone around who does get at least part of what it's like. He'd talked like this with some of the other guys, and as much as he sometimes lies or omits the truth to keep Steve safe, maybe he's feeling kind of vulnerable. Hollow.]

That's what I've been thinking, too. I guess it's why we went over there, right?

[Steve definitely understands that - he's living it. He can't stop being a soldier, it would be like throwing everything Erskine gave him on the ground and stomping it into the mud. He's Captain America, he can't ever stop being Captain America. It's his responsibility to keep going, fight the good fight, whether there's a war on or not.

He has a feeling Bucky feels the same way - would have felt the same way, if he'd gotten the chance. It's why Peggy and Howard and Phillips founded SHIELD in the first place. It's why Steve worked for SHIELD, after he woke up.

It's why, sometimes, he actually feels bad for the guys who did have to go home and become bankers, or accountants, or salesmen, or whatever else, because he doesn't know how they did it. He both envies them and respects them for it, but he knows it's just… not an option for him. And it's not an option for Bucky. It's part of the reason, he knows, why Bucky hasn't given up the uniforms.]

Yeah. It kind of is.

[Still, he tries to smile a little.] It doesn't mean a ticker tape parade and a couple of girls willing to hang on your every word wouldn't be welcome though, huh?

[It's sort of that fantasy of what every guy wanted when he got home. But regardless of the form it took… what every guy wanted was recognition. Thanks. Just some kind of acknowledgement that you went through hell, and that somebody appreciated it.

There's a really, really long pause. He isn't sure he should say this. He doesn't want to bring up Bucky's death, whether it's "real" or not, but after a minute, he sort of figures Bucky does deserve to hear this.] Your name, it's - there's this memorial. I've seen it, at the SHIELD academy. You're on it. Everyone who goes through that place knows who you are and what you did.

[Okay, that seriously might have been one of the hardest things he's ever said. And he hasn't even mentioned the Smithsonian exhibit.]

[Oh.

God. That's not- That isn't-

Honestly? He doesn't really know what to do with that, because sure, it's nice to know he's not forgotten, but he doesn't really feel like he wants recognition. No ticker tape parade, none of that matters to him, not really.

But that still hits him somewhere in a way he hadn't expected, and it kind of shows in his expression for a second, some muddled emotion that's not quite identifiable.]

I guess that's good to know.

[Abruptly, he wants to apologize again for getting killed, but that hasn't exactly done any good in the past. They're both idiots.]

Edited 2014-09-05 02:12 (UTC)

[Well, damn. Maybe that wasn't really the right thing to say, but... funny enough, it's always sort of made Steve feel better, that somebody might see Bucky's name and know who he was. How important he was.

Is.

He just shrugs, trying to say sorry without really saying it and just making things worse. And like hell he'll be mentioning any museum exhibits now. So. Steamrolling right ahead.] Either way, I'm sure they'll get a better idea of things once you've put 'em through Basic. Then it won't be quite so much like words in a textbook as not-so-fond memories. [He tries to smile.] As long as everybody lives.

Which... I think is reasonably likely.

[The shrug makes Bucky feel worse, like he's accidentally shoved Steve away when maybe he needs him to not be sullen and troubled by his own issues, but he still doesn't know what the hell to do here. So he shakes his head, and tries to smile too. Maybe even try to make it a joke.]

No one's gonna die. And I don't wanna turn them into soldiers, I just want them better prepared.

[So maybe they won't have to feel completely ripped apart and vulnerable when something bad happens. Maybe they'll be able to hang on to a little more of their humanity than he did.

Bucky runs a hand through his hair, still distracted by their previous thread of conversation.]

I'm not mad. I've just been, I don't know.

[He really doesn't. He keeps trying to find words to describe stuff and comes up totally short.

So he tries to just shrug it off, and act like it's not a big deal.]

Thinking a lot.

Don't worry about it. It is good people care enough to do that. [He's just sorry it's necessary in the first place, and he wishes he'd been stronger or faster or something, because Steve shouldn't have to see that.]

I just don't exactly have a whole lot of experience with hearing about my own grave.

[That at least comes out a little wryly.] Which I guess you probably know all about.

[It was a stupid thing to say, it just brings up the fact that Bucky thinks he's dead, and that's never something Steve ever wanted to remind him of.

Or the fact that Bucky doesn't even have a grave - it would have been pointless, with no body to bury, although Steve's pretty sure if he'd made it home from the war, he would have seen to it anyway. But there's no body to bury because Bucky's alive, and he can't tell him that, and it all just circles back to the fact that Steve hates keeping something like that from him, but he knows that, just like the wall, knowing that he's alive the way he is won't make Bucky feel better. It'll just make things worse.]

No, it's -

Look, this is stupid - over the network. Where are you?

[He's not sure there's anything else he can say, but suddenly tying to find any words at all over the network when he's taking to his best friend who's on the same ship feels stupid.]

[Okay, yeah, it's pretty stupid, and Bucky can acknowledge that with a vaguely embarrassed laugh and a grin that's mostly genuine.]

The CES. [He doesn't hesitate, because usually even when he says he wants to be alone, he really means alone plus Steve. If Steve's around and not busy or whatever.] Want me to come find you?

[Even though Steve will probably be able to find him in like, a minute and a half if he really wanted to. He's one hell of a runner and all.]

[Honestly, just seeing even a mostly genuine grin on Bucky's face is pretty much like rubbing aloe on a sunburn. It makes him feel instantly better, even if he's going to feel like he messed up for a while, mentioning that.]

Nah - the CES is good. [Not entirely private, but mostly. And maybe getting out of their rooms will be a good thing.] Gimme a minute, I'll be right there.

[Okay, maybe two. But not much more than that.]

[Bucky doesn't stray too far from where he'd been when Steve got in touch with him, just to make things a little easier. The CES is nice today - some woodland, some gentle hills, bright sun, mild weather - and while he doesn't recognize the surroundings specifically, it feels like somewhere in maybe the midwest or something.

He's still got his combat uniform on from training that morning, and he's got his M1 with him, which is half out of habit and half because he might not have left the CES after training had ended. On the plus side, he does smile again in a more or less genuine way when he finally spots Steve, and stands up to greet his friend, dusting himself off a little with his free hand.]

Hey. [And once again, he doesn't really know what to say. He's just felt a little off balance ever since this morning, and he has been thinking about this stuff a lot.]

[It is nice not to have to chase a moving target. It's also nice that the weather in here is pretty mild - really nice, because it can get a little easy to feel cooped up on the Barge, and sometimes even bad weather in the CES beats staring at the same four walls. But nice weather never hurt anybody.

Steve does have a sneaking suspicion, though, that Bucky's been here since this morning. Not that that's bad. It's just a thing. He's gotten lunch and another workout in - his normal run - but lucky for you, Bucky, he's also showered; now he's just in slacks and a t-shirt.

He was running, but he slows down so he can actually approach at a reasonable pace, once Bucky's in sight.]

Hey. Sorry, that just - seemed kind of silly, you know? [Just because he's used to talking to people over a phone or a computer doesn't mean he likes it as much as the alternative.] Besides, you thinking alone is kind of dangerous.

[He tries to poke fun, gently, because it just feels a little more normal. Even if he's not going to pass this opportunity up, since Bucky actually seems willing to talk - it's just that Steve feels pretty helpless, because he doesn't know how to talk in a way that's actually going to help. He's pretty sure he just proved that, beyond a doubt.] But they say two heads are better than one...

[They clearly never met Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers.]

[Bucky... has not showered. Fortunately, he doesn't look totally filthy and gross, so that's a plus at least. One of the benefits of just overseeing people digging holes and crawling in the mud.

Gentle poking fun is totally welcome right now, although in reality, Steve in general is welcome. Even with how everything wound up, somehow it's easy to see himself as kind of lucky, not just to be here and have this second chance, but because his best friend is here too, and Steve knows what it's like to feel out of place and confused, even if he seems like he's coping a lot better than Bucky is.

He's had more time, for one. He's had a couple years, Bucky's only had a few months, and he's got somewhere concrete to go back to after this is over. Bucky doesn't really have a safety net. He's here until he gets his deal, or until he vanishes and winds up back at the bottom of a canyon.

Anyway, he affectionately nudges Steve with his elbow, trying to play it off as normal, too. Sometimes, it feels like pretending to be normal is the only thing keeping everything pinned down.]

Not when you're one of the other two.

[His smile shrinks a little]

Sorry. It's really okay you told me.

[About the memorial. It's just been a strange week. Strange couple months? Both?]

[Steve has seen Bucky in far worse conditions, and besides - you definitely do not get the worst of it when you're the one overseeing all the work, rather than doing it yourself. Not that he imagines Bucky wouldn't be doing the work if it was necessary.

Steve's... coping. Maybe not better, but in a quieter, different way. He has had some time - even just two years is some distance, whether he means for it to be or not. In a way, it just makes him feel guiltier - he's tried to move one, in large part because other people or his personal sense of duty made him do it, because he can't really be an effective soldier wallowing in the past. But seeing Bucky here, practically living with him again, it's made him want that past back. Want that life back, even though he can't have it. Wishing is dangerous - especially around here - and he's afraid to let himself do it very much.

It still doesn't really keep it from happening. And Steve wishes an awful lot of things. But then he just feels selfish.

So it's nice to snort and roll his eyes when Bucky teases him right back.] Uh-huh. You keep telling yourself I'm the problem.

[Although when Bucky sobers, so does he.

His mouth twists a little, and he give a little half-shrug, like before.] It's - you're not wrong, though, you know. About hearing about your own grave. [Not that either of them has one.] It's... weird.

[Everyone thought he was dead. And then he wasn't. Yeah, he can't explain to Bucky that their circumstances are exactly the same, and he can't pretend to completely understand what Bucky is feeling because of that. But he understands a little.

He's pretty sure it's been a strange couple of years, by this point. Ever since Bucky left with his orders, nothing's been the same. Not that he expected it to be, even then. But he'd never thought it would turn out like this.]

[Bucky's answering smile is a little worn, maybe even a little strained around the edges.]

I bet. [It's hard sometimes to be here, walking around and breathing and eating and sleeping when he knows what happened to him. How could he forget? He woke up here half drowned, with most of his arm ripped off and his head practically bashed in. He's dead. He died. Everything else went on without him.

And he's not sure what to do with it. Sometimes, he doesn't feel all that different, because he can still watch movies and horse around with Steve and take Morgana on a date and play baseball with Ben, but then sometimes, he's hit by how bad things were. Are. Used to be. He has nightmares, he doesn't feel safe without a weapon, he finds himself reaching for his sidearm when someone sneaks up on him.

He's not even especially angry with himself when he catches it happening. This is just how things are for him.]

This whole thing's weird, Steve.

[His lips flicker up into the ghost of a smile that's more sardonic than anything, as he shoves his hands in his pockets.] Buck, everything's been weird for years, now. I think normal's something we gave up in 1941.

[Some days... he misses it. But the thing is, he can't wish he'd stayed home in Brooklyn. He'd have gotten some form letter from Phillips that said Bucky was dead, and he wouldn't have known what to do with himself and he would have died a long time ago, believing Bucky was dead, while Bucky would have no one to help him, in the future. He can't wish things were any different, not really. But yeah, some days, he wonders if normal wasn't underrated, once upon a time.

He guesses they've never really been normal, either way, though. But they had their normal, and it could have been enough.] I guess you just find a new normal

[No matter how FUBAR'd things get. Like living in a foxhole on the front or losing your best friend and waking up half a century in the future.]

Yeah, I already had that. [And he says it like a joke, except, you know. It's not. His new normal had been living in the mud, eating crappy food out of tin cans, following orders and giving them, watching people get shot and shooting other people. Barely getting any sleep, always being dirty, with sore feet and worrying about trench foot and everything else.

And then he'd had to tweak it again when he'd joined the Commandos. And now he's here.

He's not sure how to explain this, but he almost wants to say he doesn't think he knows how to adjust to any new normal that isn't similar to his own version of it now.

He winds up not saying anything instead.]

[No. It's not. His mouth twists a little - mostly because his stomach is twisting, too. He knows Bucky had gotten used to life on the front, and it was a very different life before Steve showed up and formed the Commandos. Yeah, so they ended up in plenty of pretty poor conditions, even as Commandos, but Steve knows he'll never really know what it was like for Bucky, but he'd do whatever it took to learn in a heartbeat.

And besides, the stuff he doesn't have firsthand experience with? He's at least seen. Or heard firsthand. And he hates that it was Bucky's normal, and that he might even still consider that normal.]

But then you decided to do a tour here.

[And see, the Barge is different. So you can find a better normal. Maybe.]

[Bucky snorts, and he doesn't mean to sound bitter, he doesn't. But.]

I didn't have a hell of a lot of choice, did I? [It's out before he has a chance to catch himself, and immediately, he feels kind of guilty. Kind of a lot guilty, because he doesn't want to make Steve upset or act like it's his fault, because it's not.

It shows in his expression, too. In the way he goes from looking at Steve to glancing quickly away and then back again, with that hesitant frown that means he's thinking over what he wants to say and trying not to put his foot in his mouth.]

Sorry.

[Whatever he means, it's not quite what comes across.

Besides, it's not like it takes very much to remind Steve of why he's here. And he's here because of Bucky, in a way - in a lot of ways. He's here because he messed up and he needs time to work out how he's going to fix it. Only the problem is, with Bucky here...

It's hard to want to go home. And that just makes him feel worse. But then Bucky goes and says that, and Steve's reminded all over again that he's been lying to his best friend ever since he got here, even if it's lying by omission. And it's hard. Especially when he sees Bucky like this, thinking he's dead, thinking it's his fault. It's not Bucky's fault, Steve's damn sure of that.

He thinks he manages to keep the hurt look off his face pretty well, shaking his head.] No, it's -

[He stops. He's not sure he should ask - yeah, the two of them are family, they've been through hell and back, but he's still not sure. Even so, the words seem to come out on their own.] What's your deal? With the Admiral.

[He winces, because maybe that wasn't the best way to ask. But it's out, now. If Bucky doesn't want to answer, he's got to know all he has to do is say so.

But Steve wants to know. Because he knows what he thinks it is. Based on everything he knows about Bucky... he's pretty sure his guess has to be at least partly right.]

[Steve does take it a lot better than he'd been expecting, honestly, which is good. He really, really doesn't hold this against him at all, and if Steve thought he did, he'd never forgive himself.

Anyway, Bucky doesn't hesitate, and he doesn't try to tell Steve off for asking. Far from it. He feels like the answer's obvious, and from the way he looks at Steve, it's clear he doesn't think he has anything to hide.]

To survive the fall. [Although whether that means never falling off or just getting picked up and plopped safely in the future or what, he's not sure. He figured he'd talk out the details with the Admiral once Helena graduates. Or something.

Honestly, it's a weird issue to think about, because it's not as simple as him just going home and surviving the war. Hell, even if he survived the train, he could die a week later in some other accident, and then they'd be right back here.]

Which I guess we've gotta talk about, because I don't wanna live through the next couple decades thinking you're dead in some iceberg, somewhere.

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