[ he's proved that he has no desire to hurt steve, that irrespective of the fact that steve was his misson, he no longer follows hydra's orders- but that doesn't mean that there isn't still a considerable amount of self-control involved on james' side in this because his instinct is to put enemy combatants out of commission permanently and steve is not an enemy combatant, but if he lets instinct take over, he might not be able to remember that.
both their reflexes are heightened, and they're both far stronger than a normal human being. steve is better in hand-to-hand combat, their fight on the helicarrier had proved that, but they're as closely matched as perhaps anyone comes to matching steve, these days.
the fight lasts- james doesn't know for how long, too focused on blocking and countering, on attacking, on keeping his hands from reaching for the knives hidden on his body. no weapons, just hands-
eventually, steve has him on a chokehold, they're both breathing hard, and he feels something like panic set in, only muted, instinct rearing its head because how can he trust steve to stop in time, he's in a vulnerable position- ] Stop.
[It's true that not many people can give Steve a run for his money when it comes to a pure test of strength such as this. Natasha can if only because she's Natasha and her training is so good that she can hold her own against him. In fact, she taught Steve a lot of what he knows about hand-to-hand, so he ends up on the floor way often than she does when they spar together.
Bucky's fighting style is completely different, though. Bucky was trained by HYDRA, Steve by SHIELD, and while those two things are one and the same, there's still a marked difference in how they fight.
When Steve ends up behind Bucky with his arm pressed against his throat, it all-too-quickly reminds him of the fight on the helicarrier, how he'd had no choice but to choke Bucky out to stop him from shooting, and he's already pulling away when Bucky gives that order.
At this point Steve's breathing hard and more than a little shaken. He never wants to hurt Bucky, and he wouldn't have added enough pressure to really hinder him, but it's still enough to throw both of them off.
A few moments of silence (save for heavy breathing), and then:]
[ he doesn't manage to answer immediately, instead rolling to his feet and bringing distance between them the moment that steve has pulled away enough for him to do so. his head is bowed and he doesn't manage to look at steve, but he does manage to shake his head.
no, he is not okay. it's a lot more honest and a lot more forthcoming than he would have managed to be a month ago. ]
[Usually, a response like that would cause Steve to approach and wrap his arms around Bucky, just hold him until he felt a little better. It doesn't always work, but it doesn't seem to do any harm either.
Given that the cause of this has to do with physical contact, though, he can't risk that this time around. Instead Steve stands there, his arms loose at his sides and his body language as relaxed as he can manage.]
... Okay. I'm sorry, that got out of hand. Do you want to go back downstairs? Or do you want to be alone?
[What Bucky needs varies wildly, which might seem odd when so many of his issues come from a lack of autonomy. Sometimes he needs the company and the distraction another person provides. Other times that interaction is too overwhelming, and he has to be left with his thoughts for a while.]
[ there are times when steve holding him seems like it's the only thing that holds james together at all, and there are times when even just a simple touch makes him flinch away because it's too much, because he can't be who or what steve needs, because he expects pain and punishment instead of the kindness that steve offers, that he isn't always convinced he deserves.
he doesn't know where on the spectrum between those two things he would fall right now. steve isn't a threat. he knows steve isn't a threat. ] Can we.
[ now that he knows, intellectually, that he's allowed and even encouraged to speak his mind, to ask for the things he wants, to make his own choices, his inability to articulate those choices is frustrating. his subconscious has yet to catch up with what his mind has come to know, though. ] Here.
[ can they just stay here? he likes the air up here, the clean sightlines, that there's only one possible point of approach.
[Whenever Steve's waiting for Bucky to come out with a thought or feeling or opinion, it always feels a little bit like he's teetering on a cliff edge, not sure if he'll fall or be yanked away from it in time.
If that's how it feels for him, he can't even imagine what Bucky's going through. When every choice is like pulling teeth, it's a wonder that he's functional at all. Granted, they've put a lot of work into it already.
Can we, Bucky says, and Steve has to practically bite his tongue to stop from asking can we what? It takes just a little more patience to hear the rest, and from there Steve knows what to do.
Really, he wants Bucky to get the rest that he needs (as much as he might think otherwise -- and really, Steve gets it, that thought that you've slept long enough, it's been decades, why should you need more?), but if this is what it takes, then so be it.
So with a nod, Steve settles down onto the hard concrete that makes up the roof and crosses his legs in front of him. He peers up at Bucky, wondering if he'll mimic him.]
[ steve settles down, legs crossed and posture unthreatening, and after a long moment's hesitation, another long moment because he's already hesitated so much, because every moment is instinct and checking instinct against what he rationally knows and it's exhausting, he sits down as well.
he doesn't cross his legs- instead, he sits with his back to the low reiling surrounding the edge of the roof, one leg drawn up and the other stretched out in front of him. it's a position that'll allow him to get up quickly in case of attack, and while he doesn't expect one, it's an instinct he usually doesn't fight.
he does fight the instinct to reach for the knife again, to start playing with it. instead, he looks down on his hands, flesh and metal, fingers of both loosely held over his thighs. ]
[Steve watches as Bucky slowly but surely settles down and sits again, and while he's not sitting in the most relaxed way, it's a pose that Steve still remembers from before. Bucky had been looser in his body language back then, with one arm usually draped over his knee, but it's close enough that Steve ends up smiling briefly at the sight.
With how hard things can get sometimes, he's got to take those little signs of his friend when he finds them. Even if he's the only one aware of it, Steve doesn't care.
He rears his head back at that apology.] You don't need to be sorry about anything. [Steve's probably said that to Bucky at least ten times, if not more, but he'll keep on with it. It's going to take a lot of repetitious work to undo some of that conditioning.]
It's kind of my fault for being on your case, when you were up here minding your own business.
[ steve might remember the pose from before — james doesn't, not really. if there's any recollection of it, it's purely physical, muscle memory that he isn't conscious of.
steve has told him that he has no reason to be sorry, but it still feels like he's falling short of something, some ideal of recovery perhaps, or the ghost of bucky barnes. it's a frustration he feels more and more frequently these days, and maybe that in itself is a sign of improvement because on really bad days, he still isn't aware that there's something to strive for, isn't aware of anything much at all.
[Which, for the record, is still a problem. But they might need to find a different way to deal with it.
Steve thinks that curling up on the couch and watching late night TV until they drift off to sleep wouldn't be such a bad idea, but seeing how he can't even get Bucky to come downstairs right now, that's a long way off. Reading's always helped put him to sleep, too -- maybe he should pick out some good books for Bucky.
Fiction, probably. Non-fiction is one huge can of worms at the moment.
Steve glances out from the roof at the view below, which is actually pretty spectacular for anyone who's fond of cityscapes.] So, you like it up here? Being above everything?
[ he knows that not sleeping is a problem, intellectually and because he can feel the drag of exhaustion, but at the same time, there's a part of him that doesn't realise how necessary sleep is to him because he has done very little by way of actually sleeping in the last decades. either he was on a mission, or he was frozen. during longer missions, he'd rested, catnaps here or there when his handlers had instructed him to do so in order to maintain combat effectiveness at all times. there's a larger part still that doesn't want to because it's not safe, because he needs to watch his back, because sleeping means nightmares, because of a million reasons.
so what he knows intellectually doesn't have all that much of an impact.
and still, he nods. it's an answer both to what steve doesn't say, if he's even reading steve right, and to the question steve's asked. he does like it up here, if not for the exact reason steve assumes. ] Clear sightlines. [ is offered as elaboration. ] Limited angles of approach.
[While Steve's been given plenty of insight into the way that Bucky views the world now, something that had been taught and imprinted over many years in the employ of (or rather, as the captive of) unsavory people, it's never any easier to hear it.
Not that he wants Bucky to lie, either. The last thing Steve wants is to establish an interaction where Bucky feels the need to censor himself.
Maybe it's the quiet that matters more than anything else, and Steve wonders if his own voice is too much for Bucky to take sometimes. Bucky hasn't told him to leave, nor has he tried to leave himself, so Steve can only assume it's all right for him to be out here.
He doesn't speak up again, though -- just lets Bucky enjoy the quiet, and tries to enjoy it himself. Tries to see it as companionable, rather than tense. Eventually Steve shifts around and lays out on his back, not seeming to care that the roof might be dirty. There's not much in the way of stargazing to be had here, but he still inwardly counts the few pricks of light in the sky that he can find.]
[ there are times when everything is too much- steve's voice, steve's expectations, that words demand an answer. the presence of another person demands awareness and engagement and sometimes the only way he knows to protect himself from everything in his mind is to shut down.
he can't do that when he is forced to engage with anyone, and it's exhausting and too much and sometimes he just needs to leave.
right now, though, steve is quiet and relaxed enough to lie down. james can't imagine being that relaxed in a place as unprotected as this one. maybe steve expects him to guard them both. ( the thought brings with it a measure of pride, and a measure of incomprehension. )
[Steve eventually turns his gaze from the stars to where Bucky's sitting near him. Part of him had wondered if maybe Bucky would mimic him and lay down too, but he realizes now that he'd expected too much. Even if he invites Bucky to do it, that might just make him more tense.
As far as Bucky's concerned, people are after them and he can't ever let his guard down. Steve realizes that he's probably right about that, that they're probably being hunted in some capacity, but...]
It's all right. We're safe here. [Does Steve know that for certain? No. But he needs to show Bucky that it's fine to relax here and there.]
Even if we aren't, if something happens we can handle it. [He reaches out and sets a hand on Bucky's thigh, the only part of him that he can reach from where he's laying.] You know that.
[ the first part doesn't mean anything to him, the same way that pierce's your work has shaped the century hadn't meant anything. they're just words that have no meaning, no real meaning to him.
the second sentence is something he can understand, that he can consider the truthfulness of and find that steve is right. they are not safe, but if something happens, they can handle it. steve is skilled at hand to hand combat and james is skilled at all kinds of combat, especially sniping, and it would take a great many agents to take the two of them down.
so, gaze dropping to the hand on his thigh: ] Okay.
[Steve does everything he can to speak to Bucky in a language he'll understand. One of Bucky's skills is sizing up the odds in a fight, and Steve watches as he quickly does the mental calculations and comes to a decision.
Bucky agrees. It's a relief, to know that even now the two of them could fight together as a team and be nigh unstoppable. Bucky may not feel safe, but maybe he's a little reassured.]
Maybe that's the reason they haven't come after us yet. [Steve smiles to himself as he sits up and stretches.] They know we won't go down without a fight. [Both of them are super soldiers -- weapons forged in very different ways, yes, but still powerful. Bucky fights for himself now, and that makes him more dangerous than ever.
Steve stands and glances down at Bucky.] I'm gonna head back downstairs. [He shifts his weight, slightly awkward.] Feel free to join me... whenever you feel like it. [And if Bucky stays up here all night? Well, then that's his choice.]
[ there is something reassuring about knowing the odds. there is something considerably less reassuring about knowing that the odds had been in his favour many a time while he'd been with hydra and he hadn't made use of that. sam tells him that's not his fault, that they messed with his mind to a degree that made it impossible for him to realise how much stronger he was, that he might have had the upper hand in a fight.
he's no longer their weapon, right? so if they come now he doesn't need to go with them. he's with steve now-
and suddenly it's imperative that he stay with steve, because he's with steve and together they can take hydra and if he keeps steve in his sights then the programming won't take over.
he's on his feet in one quick motion, standing behind steve, a little too close for comfort perhaps, jaw clenched. ]
[At this point, there's no such thing as too close for comfort. Had there ever been? Ever since they've known each other, Steve and Bucky haven't shied away from physical closeness. An arm slung low around his shoulders, a hug here or there, huddling up on couch cushions to stay warm and comfortable on cold nights...
Compared to all that, they barely touch these days. Steve's been hacking away at the wall between them bit by bit, but he doesn't want to overwhelm Bucky. It doesn't usually go beyond brushing back his hair or setting a hand on his thigh.
If Bucky wants to join him right now, then all the better. Steve takes the lead, like he always does. These days he knows it's because Bucky doesn't want someone at his back as it makes him nervous, but there's still something familiar in it. Steve always goes first, with Bucky just a few steps behind him, and maybe there's some kind of muscle memory in that too.
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thousandyard2014-08-05 12:05 am
as am i, let's gently handwave things
both their reflexes are heightened, and they're both far stronger than a normal human being. steve is better in hand-to-hand combat, their fight on the helicarrier had proved that, but they're as closely matched as perhaps anyone comes to matching steve, these days.
the fight lasts- james doesn't know for how long, too focused on blocking and countering, on attacking, on keeping his hands from reaching for the knives hidden on his body. no weapons, just hands-
eventually, steve has him on a chokehold, they're both breathing hard, and he feels something like panic set in, only muted, instinct rearing its head because how can he trust steve to stop in time, he's in a vulnerable position- ] Stop.
[ it costs endless effort to say that one word. ]
no subject
Bucky's fighting style is completely different, though. Bucky was trained by HYDRA, Steve by SHIELD, and while those two things are one and the same, there's still a marked difference in how they fight.
When Steve ends up behind Bucky with his arm pressed against his throat, it all-too-quickly reminds him of the fight on the helicarrier, how he'd had no choice but to choke Bucky out to stop him from shooting, and he's already pulling away when Bucky gives that order.
At this point Steve's breathing hard and more than a little shaken. He never wants to hurt Bucky, and he wouldn't have added enough pressure to really hinder him, but it's still enough to throw both of them off.
A few moments of silence (save for heavy breathing), and then:]
Are you okay?
no subject
no, he is not okay. it's a lot more honest and a lot more forthcoming than he would have managed to be a month ago. ]
no subject
Given that the cause of this has to do with physical contact, though, he can't risk that this time around. Instead Steve stands there, his arms loose at his sides and his body language as relaxed as he can manage.]
... Okay. I'm sorry, that got out of hand. Do you want to go back downstairs? Or do you want to be alone?
[What Bucky needs varies wildly, which might seem odd when so many of his issues come from a lack of autonomy. Sometimes he needs the company and the distraction another person provides. Other times that interaction is too overwhelming, and he has to be left with his thoughts for a while.]
no subject
he doesn't know where on the spectrum between those two things he would fall right now. steve isn't a threat. he knows steve isn't a threat. ] Can we.
[ now that he knows, intellectually, that he's allowed and even encouraged to speak his mind, to ask for the things he wants, to make his own choices, his inability to articulate those choices is frustrating. his subconscious has yet to catch up with what his mind has come to know, though. ] Here.
[ can they just stay here? he likes the air up here, the clean sightlines, that there's only one possible point of approach.
but he doesn't want steve to go, either. ]
no subject
If that's how it feels for him, he can't even imagine what Bucky's going through. When every choice is like pulling teeth, it's a wonder that he's functional at all. Granted, they've put a lot of work into it already.
Can we, Bucky says, and Steve has to practically bite his tongue to stop from asking can we what? It takes just a little more patience to hear the rest, and from there Steve knows what to do.
Really, he wants Bucky to get the rest that he needs (as much as he might think otherwise -- and really, Steve gets it, that thought that you've slept long enough, it's been decades, why should you need more?), but if this is what it takes, then so be it.
So with a nod, Steve settles down onto the hard concrete that makes up the roof and crosses his legs in front of him. He peers up at Bucky, wondering if he'll mimic him.]
no subject
he doesn't cross his legs- instead, he sits with his back to the low reiling surrounding the edge of the roof, one leg drawn up and the other stretched out in front of him. it's a position that'll allow him to get up quickly in case of attack, and while he doesn't expect one, it's an instinct he usually doesn't fight.
he does fight the instinct to reach for the knife again, to start playing with it. instead, he looks down on his hands, flesh and metal, fingers of both loosely held over his thighs. ]
Sorry.
[ for freaking out on you. ]
no subject
With how hard things can get sometimes, he's got to take those little signs of his friend when he finds them. Even if he's the only one aware of it, Steve doesn't care.
He rears his head back at that apology.] You don't need to be sorry about anything. [Steve's probably said that to Bucky at least ten times, if not more, but he'll keep on with it. It's going to take a lot of repetitious work to undo some of that conditioning.]
It's kind of my fault for being on your case, when you were up here minding your own business.
no subject
steve has told him that he has no reason to be sorry, but it still feels like he's falling short of something, some ideal of recovery perhaps, or the ghost of bucky barnes. it's a frustration he feels more and more frequently these days, and maybe that in itself is a sign of improvement because on really bad days, he still isn't aware that there's something to strive for, isn't aware of anything much at all.
maybe frustration is better than emptiness. ]
Asked you to spar.
no subject
[Which, for the record, is still a problem. But they might need to find a different way to deal with it.
Steve thinks that curling up on the couch and watching late night TV until they drift off to sleep wouldn't be such a bad idea, but seeing how he can't even get Bucky to come downstairs right now, that's a long way off. Reading's always helped put him to sleep, too -- maybe he should pick out some good books for Bucky.
Fiction, probably. Non-fiction is one huge can of worms at the moment.
Steve glances out from the roof at the view below, which is actually pretty spectacular for anyone who's fond of cityscapes.] So, you like it up here? Being above everything?
no subject
so what he knows intellectually doesn't have all that much of an impact.
and still, he nods. it's an answer both to what steve doesn't say, if he's even reading steve right, and to the question steve's asked. he does like it up here, if not for the exact reason steve assumes. ] Clear sightlines. [ is offered as elaboration. ] Limited angles of approach.
[ and, a long moment later: ]
It's quiet.
no subject
Not that he wants Bucky to lie, either. The last thing Steve wants is to establish an interaction where Bucky feels the need to censor himself.
Maybe it's the quiet that matters more than anything else, and Steve wonders if his own voice is too much for Bucky to take sometimes. Bucky hasn't told him to leave, nor has he tried to leave himself, so Steve can only assume it's all right for him to be out here.
He doesn't speak up again, though -- just lets Bucky enjoy the quiet, and tries to enjoy it himself. Tries to see it as companionable, rather than tense. Eventually Steve shifts around and lays out on his back, not seeming to care that the roof might be dirty. There's not much in the way of stargazing to be had here, but he still inwardly counts the few pricks of light in the sky that he can find.]
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he can't do that when he is forced to engage with anyone, and it's exhausting and too much and sometimes he just needs to leave.
right now, though, steve is quiet and relaxed enough to lie down. james can't imagine being that relaxed in a place as unprotected as this one. maybe steve expects him to guard them both. ( the thought brings with it a measure of pride, and a measure of incomprehension. )
he doesn't ask, wouldn't know how to. ]
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As far as Bucky's concerned, people are after them and he can't ever let his guard down. Steve realizes that he's probably right about that, that they're probably being hunted in some capacity, but...]
It's all right. We're safe here. [Does Steve know that for certain? No. But he needs to show Bucky that it's fine to relax here and there.]
Even if we aren't, if something happens we can handle it. [He reaches out and sets a hand on Bucky's thigh, the only part of him that he can reach from where he's laying.] You know that.
no subject
the second sentence is something he can understand, that he can consider the truthfulness of and find that steve is right. they are not safe, but if something happens, they can handle it. steve is skilled at hand to hand combat and james is skilled at all kinds of combat, especially sniping, and it would take a great many agents to take the two of them down.
so, gaze dropping to the hand on his thigh: ] Okay.
[ he doesn't tense up at the touch. ]
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Bucky agrees. It's a relief, to know that even now the two of them could fight together as a team and be nigh unstoppable. Bucky may not feel safe, but maybe he's a little reassured.]
Maybe that's the reason they haven't come after us yet. [Steve smiles to himself as he sits up and stretches.] They know we won't go down without a fight. [Both of them are super soldiers -- weapons forged in very different ways, yes, but still powerful. Bucky fights for himself now, and that makes him more dangerous than ever.
Steve stands and glances down at Bucky.] I'm gonna head back downstairs. [He shifts his weight, slightly awkward.] Feel free to join me... whenever you feel like it. [And if Bucky stays up here all night? Well, then that's his choice.]
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he's no longer their weapon, right? so if they come now he doesn't need to go with them. he's with steve now-
and suddenly it's imperative that he stay with steve, because he's with steve and together they can take hydra and if he keeps steve in his sights then the programming won't take over.
he's on his feet in one quick motion, standing behind steve, a little too close for comfort perhaps, jaw clenched. ]
no subject
Compared to all that, they barely touch these days. Steve's been hacking away at the wall between them bit by bit, but he doesn't want to overwhelm Bucky. It doesn't usually go beyond brushing back his hair or setting a hand on his thigh.
If Bucky wants to join him right now, then all the better. Steve takes the lead, like he always does. These days he knows it's because Bucky doesn't want someone at his back as it makes him nervous, but there's still something familiar in it. Steve always goes first, with Bucky just a few steps behind him, and maybe there's some kind of muscle memory in that too.
Steve takes comfort in it, at least.]