brooklyn_boy: (stunned)
brooklyn_boy ([personal profile] brooklyn_boy) wrote in [community profile] revivalproject2020-02-27 06:59 pm

02| Steve is an idiot

WHO: Steve Rogers
WHERE: In a cave, in a storm, and Network. Kinda.
WHAT: Being stupid, mostly
WHEN: Once the storm starts moving
WARNINGS: Nope



Steve crouches in the cave, nursing a nasty wound he took to his side. The medical information he has from the data point is telling him how to fix it but he's lost a little bit of blood and there's no super-human healing factor that is making up for it. The wound is also in such an awkward spot that Steve can barely even look at it properly, let alone do sutures. He moves further into the cave, feeling marginally better as he does so. Maybe getting away from the storm will stop its effects on him? It is worth a chance until he can concentrate enough to stitch. Or, maybe, he will find someone there who can do it for him...



The storm is moving. Steve can barely see straight, he's so close to the center of the storm, but he can tell its moving. And, honestly, if it weren't moving toward Temba, he'd be glad to see the back of it. As it is, he knows there isn't much time. The city is still so fragile and barely back together enough for it to really take a storm like this. Not to mention the people waiting, back there. People who thought they'd be safely away from this madness and were going to be badly surprised.

Steve races back to his ship. He's not a pilot, though, so the controls are a mystery to him. He grumbles and scowls, feeling impotent before taking his comm up and hitting the network.

This is Steve Rogers of the Bishop. If there are any pilots out there, we need to get back to Temba. I'm looking for a ride and anyone else who wants to help prepare the city.



It's not the first person he's seen in the fog. Steve has been seeing these ghosts for the whole storm. People he knew. People he didn't know. People who had disappeared from here and people who had faces similar to the ones here. He'd managed mostly to ignore them all but this. This was different. This was out of his memories both from home and from before. It's enough to stop him in his tracks, storm be damned.

The Winter Soldier. Not Bucky. No. He'd refused that name. He'd refused any name at all. But there he was in his black armor, arm shining in a sun that wasn't here. He looks straight at Steve, face hard. For a second there is a moment when Steve forgets he is a ghost and almost braces for a fight. But the ghost turns and walks away. He turns, once, to glance back, and then continues walking.

And Steve, damn himself, follows.
stillgotmyleftarm: (close)

[personal profile] stillgotmyleftarm 2020-03-30 02:54 am (UTC)(link)
Bucky lets out a soft huff of laughter, eyes fluttering at the touch of Steve's fingertips to the back of his neck. It feels good, so good, and he wants to enjoy the soft touches while he can. It's not that he doesn't love it when they get rough and desperate, because he sure as shit does. But sometimes, the gentleness is just as welcome. It makes it feel like they have all the time in the world, together, and that's something Bucky desperately wants, even if he doesn't really believe it.

He lets one hand slip up and down Steve's spine in return, fingertips tracing each vertebra, careful of any bruises he maybe hasn't seen. Steve's words are so earnest, and so heartfelt, that Bucky has to grin a little, even if he has to admit, "Stevie, honey. I can't make you promise something like that. I know you.

"But I believe that you really will try. And that's what matters to me. So - that's all I ask. It's a deal." He tilts his head just enough to graze lips over Steve's cheekbone, trying to trade gentleness for gentleness. After all, Steve's still healing, and Bucky won't let him get rough, even if he wants to. "I just don't want to lose you again," he says, quietly. "That's all I do. Lose you. It ain't fair."