Sam Wilson (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sizeofyourbaggage) wrote2016-05-22 03:26 pm
sizeofyourbaggage) wrote2016-05-22 03:26 pm
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[ It's business, now, just helping Damon shore up his shields. He knows he's not gonna ask Damon about anything he sees, and it's easy to all but completely disregard them. It's easy to see that it's working, that Damon's shields are growing stronger.
It's less easy to ignore the gnawing hunger that starts to grow. He's swallowing before he quite realizes what's going on, throat working ineffectively as he tries to breathe past it - stay in control, he has to stay in control, and his breathing becomes measured, counted, as he realizes he's feeling a hell of a lot of bleed over from Damon. ]
( What the fuck? )
It's less easy to ignore the gnawing hunger that starts to grow. He's swallowing before he quite realizes what's going on, throat working ineffectively as he tries to breathe past it - stay in control, he has to stay in control, and his breathing becomes measured, counted, as he realizes he's feeling a hell of a lot of bleed over from Damon. ]
( What the fuck? )
(What-- Oh.)
[Right. Right, he remembers now. That strategy. He has to breathe first. Follow through with that first instruction.]
[If nothing else, he's good at following orders.]
(Sam, I... don't think there's... five things in my room.) [A sense of thready, weak humor. It's supposed to be funny. Not turning down or ignoring the suggestion. Just -- Shiro's other coping strategy.]
(Me. The... bed. Armor. Clothes. Old... coffee mug.) [Damn he needs to clean that up.]
[Right. Right, he remembers now. That strategy. He has to breathe first. Follow through with that first instruction.]
[If nothing else, he's good at following orders.]
(Sam, I... don't think there's... five things in my room.) [A sense of thready, weak humor. It's supposed to be funny. Not turning down or ignoring the suggestion. Just -- Shiro's other coping strategy.]
(Me. The... bed. Armor. Clothes. Old... coffee mug.) [Damn he needs to clean that up.]
( the distraction jars damon enough that his shields lower. not so much that sam can see anything again, at least, but enough that he can hear a quiet but persistent thump, thump, thump in the background — it may take him a minute, but eventually the sound is unmistakable: a heartbeat. his, in fact — damon can hear it as easily as he can hear sam speak, though he's done his best up til now to tune it out.
What the fuck what? I can't concentrate if you're going to be talking to me, his mental tone is irritable, snippy — damon really is very hungry. he hasn't fed since the morning before he showed up here, and just because he can go days without feeding doesn't mean it's pleasant. half his focus is on not eating people, and he could use that other half to do literally anything else. he'd been coping well until sam dredged it up from the depths of his subconscious, and now it's annoyingly visceral. )
What the fuck what? I can't concentrate if you're going to be talking to me, his mental tone is irritable, snippy — damon really is very hungry. he hasn't fed since the morning before he showed up here, and just because he can go days without feeding doesn't mean it's pleasant. half his focus is on not eating people, and he could use that other half to do literally anything else. he'd been coping well until sam dredged it up from the depths of his subconscious, and now it's annoyingly visceral. )
[ There's a soft hum of consideration. ]
( With everyone, or just certain people? )
( With everyone, or just certain people? )
I know. Thanks.
[ He means it, and will only offer the same back to Sam, with a wordless nod leading the way down the halls toward, that sense that they're heading down without ever seeing any steps.
It's not a place to be alone, not for the first visit.
The walls they pass start to flatten in color and lose all texture, darkening to a slate grey that seems to almost match the somber, quiet march. Their footsteps echo, finally reaching a triangular room - could be a twin of the Nesting Deck if not for the hexagonal compartments against the walls.
Steve stops here, eyeing them, expression slipping into distraction as he scans the room - ]
Here - [ He steps forward, and only someone that knows him well might catch the barest hint of hesitation in his gait, the way he stops in front of a compartment to place his hand on the cover. A handle appears underneath it, and he glances back at Sam, as if waiting for some confirmation. ]
[ He means it, and will only offer the same back to Sam, with a wordless nod leading the way down the halls toward, that sense that they're heading down without ever seeing any steps.
It's not a place to be alone, not for the first visit.
The walls they pass start to flatten in color and lose all texture, darkening to a slate grey that seems to almost match the somber, quiet march. Their footsteps echo, finally reaching a triangular room - could be a twin of the Nesting Deck if not for the hexagonal compartments against the walls.
Steve stops here, eyeing them, expression slipping into distraction as he scans the room - ]
Here - [ He steps forward, and only someone that knows him well might catch the barest hint of hesitation in his gait, the way he stops in front of a compartment to place his hand on the cover. A handle appears underneath it, and he glances back at Sam, as if waiting for some confirmation. ]
( It's just certain people, for me. I got real damn good at shielding most people out, but now it's starting to feel like the better I get with everyone else, the more stuff slips out with you and Bucky and Parker. )
[ And Clint and Shiro, but it's different with them. It's less that stuff slips out and more that they've chosen the closeness they have, and he doesn't usually work to keep his shields up.
There's a moment where there's a weighted pause, something heavy and empty where the younger Sam's name should have been, the ache of a newly lost brood bond - but he skips over it. ]
( Do you wanna practice with me? )
[ And Clint and Shiro, but it's different with them. It's less that stuff slips out and more that they've chosen the closeness they have, and he doesn't usually work to keep his shields up.
There's a moment where there's a weighted pause, something heavy and empty where the younger Sam's name should have been, the ache of a newly lost brood bond - but he skips over it. ]
( Do you wanna practice with me? )
[ There's a twinge - Sam is gone and that stings. She's not sure why. She wasn't that close with him, even if he was a friend. But there's a hole where he ought to be and a part of her aches and knows that she's not going to be whole again until (if) he comes back.
She doesn't like it. ]
( Practice? I guess. I've been practicing. It doesn't seem to help. )
She doesn't like it. ]
( Practice? I guess. I've been practicing. It doesn't seem to help. )
( Eat a fucking sandwich or something, man. )
[ Even as he says it, he knows that isn't the kind of hunger that he's feeling. Sam's been hungry, he's been stuck in mountain and desert with minimal rations - or no rations, back in training - but it'd never been like this. It'd never been damn near all consuming.
There's usually the faintest hint of the steady beat of a heart that flavors Sam's mental link, but now he can hear it echoing in the back of his head loud and clear. Sam pulls in a breath, in and out, and focuses instead on the rush of wind. ]
( How do you keep it down? )
[ Out loud, it would've been a simple question, but with the two of them so closely connected at the moment there's a swirl of layers to it - a vague curiosity, a mixed up jumble of wanting to know so Sam can help though whether it's because he dredged it up or just because he's the one having to feel it now isn't clear, and still dude let's get you something to eat somewhere in there. ]
[ Even as he says it, he knows that isn't the kind of hunger that he's feeling. Sam's been hungry, he's been stuck in mountain and desert with minimal rations - or no rations, back in training - but it'd never been like this. It'd never been damn near all consuming.
There's usually the faintest hint of the steady beat of a heart that flavors Sam's mental link, but now he can hear it echoing in the back of his head loud and clear. Sam pulls in a breath, in and out, and focuses instead on the rush of wind. ]
( How do you keep it down? )
[ Out loud, it would've been a simple question, but with the two of them so closely connected at the moment there's a swirl of layers to it - a vague curiosity, a mixed up jumble of wanting to know so Sam can help though whether it's because he dredged it up or just because he's the one having to feel it now isn't clear, and still dude let's get you something to eat somewhere in there. ]
[ It's not the first time for him that someone who'd fallen was both broodmate and friend, and by now, it's... well. It's not easier, not with the hollow echo in the back of his mind where a brood bond should be, but it's starting to be a familiar feeling.
He still doesn't like it, either, but he knows that's not gonna change anything. ]
( It's helped me a little more when I do it with another person. )
He still doesn't like it, either, but he knows that's not gonna change anything. ]
( It's helped me a little more when I do it with another person. )
[ It's supposed to be funny, and it is. Fortunately, he and Sam have very similar senses of humor, and he gives a quiet chuckle across the mental link.
Yeah, yeah, all right, funny guy. Sam's pretty sure that means it worked to get Shiro out of his head and back in the now, to break the chain before he could get completely caught up in the memory.
He squeezes Shiro's hands again, gently bringing them back to Shiro's re-telling. ]
( What happened in the arena? )
Yeah, yeah, all right, funny guy. Sam's pretty sure that means it worked to get Shiro out of his head and back in the now, to break the chain before he could get completely caught up in the memory.
He squeezes Shiro's hands again, gently bringing them back to Shiro's re-telling. ]
( What happened in the arena? )
[He'll take that. The short little laugh. It's a nice break. A nice change from everything else pounding through his head. Like the ache at the back of his skull. Lack of sleep, probably.]
[Right. Retelling. He can do this. He's got this. For a moment, he thinks he does. Then Sam has to go and ask that.]
[What happened in the arena?]
[Cold settles hard in his chest. There's only one fight he remembers with any bit of clarity, but even that... What happened in the arena? What did happen? How many people did he What happened in the arena? What happened in the arena?]
[C H A M P I O N]
[Whispers coiling out from the ache in his head. His arm hurts. His hands flinch away from where Sam is holding them, in their minds. Before he can blurt out two words:]
(I won.)
[Right. Retelling. He can do this. He's got this. For a moment, he thinks he does. Then Sam has to go and ask that.]
[What happened in the arena?]
[Cold settles hard in his chest. There's only one fight he remembers with any bit of clarity, but even that... What happened in the arena? What did happen? How many people did he What happened in the arena? What happened in the arena?]
[C H A M P I O N]
[Whispers coiling out from the ache in his head. His arm hurts. His hands flinch away from where Sam is holding them, in their minds. Before he can blurt out two words:]
(I won.)
[ With what he's already gotten from Shiro, Sam's expecting something really not good. It's not so much that he braces himself for it, because that'd imply that he feels like he needs to tense up to prepare, it's just... he takes in a few breaths, lets them out, reminds himself how to stay calm and let everything wash over him.
And it's a damn good thing, because he can feel the cold sweeping over Shiro, the uncertainty of what he doesn't know and the fear of what he does, of what that might mean-
Champion echoes in Sam's head, flashes of a fight and the whispers of people he doesn't know, and he reminds himself again to breath, lets them fade below the mist of his clouds.
Sam doesn't chase after Shiro when he pulls away. Instead he adjusts, focusing on their connection so he can curl around Shiro's mind, like a blanket settling over his shoulders - and if there's a brush of feathers, well, they're damn near always present in Sam's mental link. ]
( You survived. You did the only thing you could to protect your friend, to stay alive. )
And it's a damn good thing, because he can feel the cold sweeping over Shiro, the uncertainty of what he doesn't know and the fear of what he does, of what that might mean-
Champion echoes in Sam's head, flashes of a fight and the whispers of people he doesn't know, and he reminds himself again to breath, lets them fade below the mist of his clouds.
Sam doesn't chase after Shiro when he pulls away. Instead he adjusts, focusing on their connection so he can curl around Shiro's mind, like a blanket settling over his shoulders - and if there's a brush of feathers, well, they're damn near always present in Sam's mental link. ]
( You survived. You did the only thing you could to protect your friend, to stay alive. )
( I mean - yeah. I want to try, at least. Just so I can try and stay... me. )
[ It's something she's been thinking about. It's never gone away. The fear that she'll stop being her one of these days. It's a creeping, subtle anxiety that never quite fades and always comes back to the forefront of her mind every few days. ]
[ It's something she's been thinking about. It's never gone away. The fear that she'll stop being her one of these days. It's a creeping, subtle anxiety that never quite fades and always comes back to the forefront of her mind every few days. ]
[He's so tired of this. So... damn... tired of this. Of being afraid to talk about what he does remember, because it leads somewhere awful. Because he gets stuck. He can't pull himself out in time, before it's too late.]
[It doesn't help when he hears that word again. Echoed through Sam's mind and his own. Flickering and whispering. Until it feels like he's drowning in it. Like he can't breathe.]
[Even the reassurance feels dull. It feels flat. Like there are so many problems with what Sam is saying, he doesn't even know where to start.]
(I don't -- I don't know if he -- if --)
[If he was even still alive.]
[It doesn't help when he hears that word again. Echoed through Sam's mind and his own. Flickering and whispering. Until it feels like he's drowning in it. Like he can't breathe.]
[Even the reassurance feels dull. It feels flat. Like there are so many problems with what Sam is saying, he doesn't even know where to start.]
(I don't -- I don't know if he -- if --)
[If he was even still alive.]
[ Sam breathes, in to the count of four, hold for seven, out to the count of eight. He counts in his head - and Shiro's - as he does, letting the steady sound of his breathing echo across to prompt Shiro to breathe with him.
At least in his own mind, he can do something about this, and he lets the memories that Shiro'd shared with him and the words that try to stick fade, watching them sink below the clouds in his mind. ]
( Four things you can hear? )
[ Physically, he means, not in Shiro's head, but he's already made that distinction before and with their connection, he doesn't have to say if for the idea to make it across. ]
At least in his own mind, he can do something about this, and he lets the memories that Shiro'd shared with him and the words that try to stick fade, watching them sink below the clouds in his mind. ]
( Four things you can hear? )
[ Physically, he means, not in Shiro's head, but he's already made that distinction before and with their connection, he doesn't have to say if for the idea to make it across. ]
[Breathing. Breathe. Focus. Be focused and breathe. Just like they practiced. Anything to keep himself from losing it. From losing himself in his own brain and letting everything come out. Sliding backward.]
[So all the training he'd done would be in vain.]
[A shuddering feeling. But focus. Thinking. Listening.]
(I... can't hear anything. It's quiet...)
[In the room. It's too quiet in the room.]
[So all the training he'd done would be in vain.]
[A shuddering feeling. But focus. Thinking. Listening.]
(I... can't hear anything. It's quiet...)
[In the room. It's too quiet in the room.]
[ All right, either she's gonna spring some kind of "I ate everything that could remotely be food and I'm still hungry cause I'm a fucking super soldier" silly nonsense on him, or this is actually pretty serious.
He's not gonna deny the faint note of concern, but honestly either way, his answer's the same. ]
( 'Course, Shep, what's up? )
He's not gonna deny the faint note of concern, but honestly either way, his answer's the same. ]
( 'Course, Shep, what's up? )
[See, she was fine, and now you're making her hungry again. So who's really at fault here?]
( It's about Beth Green. You know her? ) [Shepard pushes along the visual, Beth slightly too thin, pale hair, watery blue eyes, but a smile that could deny an apocalypse. That had done as much, if Shepard didn't miss her mark-- and she so rarely did.] ( As it turns out, she's carrying some kind of dormant... something. She says, if she were to die, she'd come back again. But not in the nice way, more of the... Romero vid, kind of way. )
[Sam probably doesn't need any help imagining the consequences of a zombie loose among the population of Waypoint Shril, or even just the Station.]
( Beth asked me to promise to make sure that in that event, the problem would get taken care of, decisively. It'd make me feel better to have more eyes than mine on this-- somebody I can trust. You understand? )
( It's about Beth Green. You know her? ) [Shepard pushes along the visual, Beth slightly too thin, pale hair, watery blue eyes, but a smile that could deny an apocalypse. That had done as much, if Shepard didn't miss her mark-- and she so rarely did.] ( As it turns out, she's carrying some kind of dormant... something. She says, if she were to die, she'd come back again. But not in the nice way, more of the... Romero vid, kind of way. )
[Sam probably doesn't need any help imagining the consequences of a zombie loose among the population of Waypoint Shril, or even just the Station.]
( Beth asked me to promise to make sure that in that event, the problem would get taken care of, decisively. It'd make me feel better to have more eyes than mine on this-- somebody I can trust. You understand? )
( it takes a moment for damon to realize what sam is referring to — the bloodlust is something he's dealt with so long he can almost tune it out, when he has to. at the very least, he can focus on other things. it's a coping mechanism not all vampires develop, his brother included, but which all of them could benefit from. being able to be so starving you can feel your cells begin to shrivel up and still be able to focus on other things is important.
granted, it's a skill that damon had more time and drive to cultivate than most, and he's not anywhere near that point yet. right now he's uncomfortable, but nowhere near desiccation.
when he does realize what sam is talking about — his hunger must be leaking through, damon didn't even think to hold that back too, wouldn't even know where to begin — he frowns. they both know this isn't about needing a sandwich, but damon isn't particularly eager to talk about what he actually needs, either. sam has surely guessed by now, as anyone in the nest must, once they've gotten close enough to him, but it's one thing to have it be an open secret and entirely another to talk about it out loud. keeping secrets is the only way damon has survived this long, and he's not too keen on talking just because now everyone knows his every secret. the instruction is easy to brush off, but the question...
as deep in damon's head as sam is, and as distracted as he's become by his hunger, damon's first thought is clear.
Her.
brown eyes set in a disapproving frown flash through the link, but damon tugs them back before the whole person can materialize to go with them.
Practice. Necessity. Not wanting to deal with the fallout if I let go. You can live through pretty much anything if you stop thinking about it.
Thanks so much for bringing my attention back to it, by the way, I feel really great right now. )
granted, it's a skill that damon had more time and drive to cultivate than most, and he's not anywhere near that point yet. right now he's uncomfortable, but nowhere near desiccation.
when he does realize what sam is talking about — his hunger must be leaking through, damon didn't even think to hold that back too, wouldn't even know where to begin — he frowns. they both know this isn't about needing a sandwich, but damon isn't particularly eager to talk about what he actually needs, either. sam has surely guessed by now, as anyone in the nest must, once they've gotten close enough to him, but it's one thing to have it be an open secret and entirely another to talk about it out loud. keeping secrets is the only way damon has survived this long, and he's not too keen on talking just because now everyone knows his every secret. the instruction is easy to brush off, but the question...
as deep in damon's head as sam is, and as distracted as he's become by his hunger, damon's first thought is clear.
Her.
brown eyes set in a disapproving frown flash through the link, but damon tugs them back before the whole person can materialize to go with them.
Practice. Necessity. Not wanting to deal with the fallout if I let go. You can live through pretty much anything if you stop thinking about it.
Thanks so much for bringing my attention back to it, by the way, I feel really great right now. )
[ Yeah, Sam knows Beth. Not too well, granted, but they'd gotten to talking, and the two of them have got a lot in common. She'd told him the world had ended back where she was from, and he'd known she meant that literally, but he hadn't asked for specifics.
No wonder she'd said that so many people were struggling to find happiness moving forward.
It's... not exactly a pleasant topic to think about, but Sam's a practical guy, and it's not the first time he's promised to put someone down if he needed to. And on the other side, he's not gonna deny that there's a slow curl of warmth at the implication that Shepard trusts him. ]
( Yeah, I get you. Last thing we need is some kind of outbreak. )
No wonder she'd said that so many people were struggling to find happiness moving forward.
It's... not exactly a pleasant topic to think about, but Sam's a practical guy, and it's not the first time he's promised to put someone down if he needed to. And on the other side, he's not gonna deny that there's a slow curl of warmth at the implication that Shepard trusts him. ]
( Yeah, I get you. Last thing we need is some kind of outbreak. )
( Yeah, tell me about it. I like who I am, and just because I've still got stuff I'm working on don't mean I want to change that much. )
[ There's a part of him that doesn't think they've got much of a choice, the longer they stay here, but he's not keen on thinking about that too closely. Instead he's shifted to operating in a similar way as he had before - he chooses who he lets in and who he keeps out, who he allows himself to be vulnerable with. Who he trusts enough to expose himself more to, who he knows that even if he did pick up traits from them, they'd be similar enough to his own that he wouldn't mind.
For now, it's enough to soothe him - but there's also times if he wonders if that's a good thing. ]
[ There's a part of him that doesn't think they've got much of a choice, the longer they stay here, but he's not keen on thinking about that too closely. Instead he's shifted to operating in a similar way as he had before - he chooses who he lets in and who he keeps out, who he allows himself to be vulnerable with. Who he trusts enough to expose himself more to, who he knows that even if he did pick up traits from them, they'd be similar enough to his own that he wouldn't mind.
For now, it's enough to soothe him - but there's also times if he wonders if that's a good thing. ]
( Shit, Sam. If I were turned into a Husk, I'd want to be put down too. )
[Now that tone, far from the professionalism she began with, this tone is downright fond. She fed him a request founded in compassion and he responded with practicality, a mind to the goal. Goddamn, but she lo--]
( Thanks. It's good to have somebody to lean on. )
[Now that tone, far from the professionalism she began with, this tone is downright fond. She fed him a request founded in compassion and he responded with practicality, a mind to the goal. Goddamn, but she lo--]
( Thanks. It's good to have somebody to lean on. )
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