strangetrip | [GP/EP] Check-in Day

The woodwinds in her collection were for noodling mostly, and the violin was for memory of her family, but when Curnen really wanted to play she turned again and again to her guitar. This would probably always be her best instrument. It was the first of the month, she’d been here over a year, and it was probably a check-in day. So she sat on the lawn with her instrument in her lap, sending out a subtle magic to call anyone stranded in their little world this way.

At one point, though, she set aside the guitar and turned her face to the sky. For just a few minutes she required a different kind of magic.

It had been a week now since Scanlan had vanished in the battle. And Pike, too, though Curnen honestly couldn’t have cared less about her going away if she tried. Still. The two of them were family to people very dear to her, people who missed them. And Scanlan had been her friend. You marked something like that with a song.

Of all the money that e'er I had
I spent it in good company
And all the harm that e'er I've done
Alas, it was to none but me
And all I've done for want of wit
To memory now I can't recall
So fill to me the parting glass
Good night and joy be with you all

It was a traditional Irish goodbye, a farewell to friends said with love, drinking, well wishes, and the hope of meeting again. She couldn’t think of a better one for the occasion. And as she sang she twined her magic into her voice in a new way, sending the song to any ears that needed it, ears of those who knew and missed the departed. Not all of them might understand it, not all of them knew what she was, but she didn’t particularly care about that right now. The song was more important than the hiding.

Once the last note had dissipated she picked up her guitar again and resumed her work. If there were anybody out there, they had to know where to go.

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Bucky sighed. He was going to have to explain. He didn't want to explain. He really wanted to just turn and run. His head tilted and he eyed Steve up and down, taking in his demeanor and body language. "I know who you are. You..."

Bucky nodded his head, frowning slightly. "I'm Bucky, but... I'm not the man you want me to be." Slowly, Bucky raised his metal hand, waving the fingers at Steve. "I... I can't be the man from your past. He is not me. I saw him, at the museum. I..." Bucky stammered, having trouble putting the words together.

He didn't want to fight with Steve.

"I'm broken."

While his friend spoke, Steve simply stared, not sure how to put all of this together. He was still trying to wrap his mind around the idea that he was stuck in some sort of magical prison, kidnapped from his time and placed here with a bunch of strangers--well, mostly strangers. Strangers and Bucky.

Then Bucky said he was broken, and Steve felt his heart crack.

"You're not--" He started, but he didn't want to argue with Bucky. He didn't want to fight with his friend.

Steve took a moment, hands on his hips. His eyes moved to the floor, then to the dining hall, then back to Bucky again. "Come and eat with me."

It was hard for Bucky to put it into words to Steve. He wasn't broken, not really, but it was the easiest way to describe it to Steve without too many words to follow it up. He couldn't be the Bucky that Steve wanted him to be, that Steve remembered. He could be a Bucky, someone who remembers those times and tries to move forward, but he wasn't the old Bucky. And that was the man that he knew Steve wanted. He needed to know Steve could accept him now, as he was.

Bucky nodded his head, his face neutral of any emotion. It would take time before he relaxed around Steve enough to smile. "Food. Is good." Slowly, Bucky nodded his head and took a step forward. He hesitated, not that he didn't want to go, but he wondered if Steve would hug him or something.

"Time. Just need time. Friendship... Will come." He glanced up at Steve, his eyes pleading for his friend to understand. "We... We're here, in this place, stuck. And, now this? Just... Slow, okay?" He wasn't so naive to think Steve was the same man who went into the ice either. He wanted to get to know Steve, or so he thought.

Steve was the kind of person who really listened. He wasn't just sitting around, waiting for his chance to jump into the conversation. He was genuinely interested in and concerned about what everyone--Bucky especially--had to say. So his eyes stayed on the other man's face, his mouth closed. He nodded.

"Slow. I can do slow." Steve's heart was thundering. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around his old friend, to grab his head and force their foreheads together. He'd missed Bucky more than almost everyone else. Heck, at times he'd missed Bucky more than Peggy.

"They keep telling me we're stuck here, so... we've got all the time in the world, Bucky." Steve turned to walk to the restaurant, taking his time so Bucky could fall into step with him.

In time, Bucky thought that he may warm up to Steve again. It wasn't that he didn't want his best, oldest friend back in his life. He just needed some time. Bucky gave Steve the smallest, slightest smile as they walked side by side, heading to the restaurant.

Bucky sighed, looking over at Steve. "I... I remember things, but it's... Hard to explain. I remember some things, but not everything. I have gaps I'm trying to fill in." Bucky really thought he should show Steve his journals. That would explain everything. "I saw the museum exhibit," he said softly.

His shoulders shrugged as he looked over at his oldest friend. "They did say that. Stuck here..." His voice trailed off. "At least, here, I... I won't feel like I'm on the run." It would be good to feel like he could relax, at least a little.

Steve took his time, moving slowly into the restaurant area. There was some chicken dish available, and Steve was hungry, so that's what he wanted. They could find a seat and eat some food, and maybe get some drinks. Not that the drinks did much to affect Steve--his metabolism worked against him and the effects of alcohol.

"You're not on the run here," Steve said, gently. "You don't have to be on the run with me. What can I do?" He asked. "How can I help?"

Bucky followed along. He was quiet as he made his way into the restaurant area. Bucky helped himself to a small plate of, well, chicken something. He didn't even know what it was. That and a large glass of something with alcohol and he was moving over to a small table in the corner. It was perfect for him, the same one he'd occupied when he had food with River. He could put his back to the wall and nobody could sneak up on him from behind.

When they were finally seated and somewhere with a bit more privacy, Bucky spoke to Steve, keeping his voice low. "Safe here. For now. Not on the run, no." He gave Steve a wry look. "Your friend wasn't very stealthy. He was easy to avoid."

Bucky frowned. "Not sure." It wasn't like they were back home. "Stark is here." He practically whispered the words to Steve. He'd been almost afraid to say them louder, but the weight of the words would outweigh his tone of voice or decibel level. He needed to know when Steve came from, especially after some of the things he'd heard from Tony and Peter.

"My friend?" Steve asked. Bucky wasn't making much sense--speaking in short, chopped sentences. Steve didn't mind so much, normally he could figure it all out... but he wanted more. Wanted to know what was going on, wanted to help where he could. He couldn't help unless he had the facts.

"Tony." Steve frowned just slightly. "Tony wasn't very stealthy?"

[GP/EP] Check-in Day

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Re: Steve and Bucky

Re: Steve and Bucky

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Re: Steve and Bucky

Re: Steve and Bucky