[ Because it's a look at himself, that's why. When you're not even sure who you are or if that's someone you like all that much - well it's a hell of a thing to look in the mirror and be faced with all of that.
Sam knows.
But whatever Bucky's gonna see, it's not gonna be alone. Sam shifts his hand, sliding it down in Bucky's grip so he can tangle their fingers together. Then he pulls out the mirror in his shaving kit with his free hand, holding it up and angling it so they can both see into it. ]
(I look like him.) [He frowns at himself in the mirror, unsure how to feel about this clean-shaven version of himself.] )The other guy.)
[The other Bucky, he means, but doesn't say aloud. His grip on Sam's hand tightens. The beard won't get caught in the disguise anymore, that's for sure. Is this how he's always looked? Underneath the beard? His eyes seem sunken in and without the beard, his cheeks seem to be almost cut into, his jaw solid under all the hair.]
[ But he does look a little bit more like him, maybe - the same way Sam might look a little more like the guy he used to be when he first enlisted if he shaved. He squeezes Bucky's hand back, leaning against him a little. ]
(We can leave some stubble next time, see if that fits more. You can change that up however you want, you know? Beard, hair, clothes - it's okay not to settle on anything for a while. Figure out what you like.)
[In the corner of Bucky's mind, he keeps forgetting that Sam didn't know the other Bucky. Steve did, but Sam never did. Only seen pictures reminds him of this and for a moment he's genuinely glad Sam never knew him before, never looked at him with horror and shock. To Sam, he's just Bucky.
He breathes out, seven-eight-nine-ten-eleven, and breathes in again, one-two-three-four-five-six, before he leans back against Sam.
He's just Bucky.
There's a silent acknowledgment of Sam's proposition, of trying things until they figure out the best option. For now, this is livable, the braids and feathers are enough to keep him grounded in the here and now with Sam.
The mirror's just close enough that he can tap it with the end of his stump, something he's not really ever done before. His left arm mostly goes unused except to prop open books or stabilize himself against something. It's a strange sensation touching it to metal and there's a little bit of a spark that makes him pull it back immediately.]
(What about this other guy in here?) [Talking about Sam's reflection.] (I like his eyes.)
[Okay so maybe he did hear Sam's comment on his eyes, but chose to ignore it for the liplock.]
It's something Sam's tried his best to make clear to him, that Sam's got no frame of reference for whoever Bucky was back in the stone age, and feeling it coming from Bucky himself is pretty damn nice. He loves the guy sitting next to him, for better or worse.
He watches curiously as Bucky reaches out to tap the mirror with the metal stump - and somewhere absently in the back of his mind he wonders if they could do something to help with that - but then his attention is caught by what Bucky says.
Sam laughs, surprised and pleased, as he leans in a little closer. So he was listening to him when he was flirting a little. ]
(You do, huh? Look at that, we're figuring out things you like already.)
[Bucky turns a hair closer to Sam, tucking his stump back behind them where it can't spark or do whatever it did with the mirror. Maybe it's the symbiote, but Bucky doesn't want to think about the Soldier or the symbiote right now. He crosses the rest of the distance between their mouths both as a distraction and the physical desire. He likes hearing Sam laugh, likes seeing him smile, likes a whole bunch of everything Sam is made up of. His eyes are just one of many specific facets he enjoys. Right now, they remind him of the forest lingering just behind the shadows creeping through his head: deep, rich, and full of history.]
[ There's a small, contented thrill, a spike of pleasure, as Bucky closes the distance between them. Sam tips his head to kiss him back, dropping the mirror onto the cot beside him so he can push his hand into Bucky's hair. He's never gonna get tired of this, feeling the things Bucky likes and what he enjoys, shifting up the angle of the kiss to make it a little deeper- ]
(Hope you know how much I'm looking forward to learning.)
[ He doesn't want to break away from the kiss enough to ask, but his desire to touch, to trail fingers down the shape of Bucky's jawline is obvious enough, and there's a silent impression of can I? ]
[Above all, Bucky enjoys how kissing Sam makes his broodmate so happy, so invigorated. There's nothing quite like the echo of the thrill in Sam bleeding through the mental link. When Sam shifts the kiss, Bucky moves with him, not wanting to part so soon, not when their minds blend together in a way that causes the symbiote to add another layer of happiness to the pool. Sam's comment is met with a half smile, mostly as Bucky remains unconfident in his ability to kiss and do anything else at the same time.
For all Bucky's nerves regarding his ability, he finds comfort in Sam's enthusiasm, in his desire to learn what Bucky likes. Bucky's not sure he's ever met someone like Sam. At the silent question, Bucky sends a mote of agreement, the sense of nodding his head. Be careful accompanies the the notion, but he expresses clear consent regardless.]
[ There's been more times than Sam can count that he's glad for their symbiote connection, especially with Bucky, and right now's no exception. It's just a feedback loop of happiness, a never ending circle of Bucky enjoying the thrill he gets and Sam enjoying Bucky being happy and goddamn if they're not careful this could get a little addicting.
More than Sam's desire for physical contact with someone he loves usually is, anyway, which admittedly is still pretty strong.
He hums in satisfaction across the mental link, fingers scratching soothingly through Bucky's hair at those nerves, just a quiet acknowledgement that Sam's got no complaints here. When he gets consent from Bucky, he slides his hand down, nice and slow, a natural extension from in his hair down behind his ear to run his thumb down along his jaw as he kisses him.
He's never really said it before, mostly because he was more focused on showing it, but he kind of figures he should actually put it to words at least once. ]
(I'm never gonna hurt you, Bucky. Not unless I'm doing what I promised I would.) [ But that's a different kind of hurt, this is - Sam might know the words, locked away somewhere no one else can get them, but he wouldn't ever use them, won't ever use pain or fear to try to control him. ]
[Bucky chases more of that feedback loop, the thrill pushing away the darkness. For someone who dislikes too much emotion, he's perhaps enjoying the high a little too much. Sam's fingers scratch and Bucky presses closer, wanting more, and as his broodmate shifts his hand, Bucky's nerves surge forward again. He's not worried about Sam hurting him, it's the other way around.
Use them passes over the link, accompanied by a surge of pine and fir. There's no doubt he trusts Sam not to hurt him; it's the triggers, the symbiote, that bring about the unpredictability.]
[ It's hard to breathe, suddenly, both because Sam's not willing to pull back from kissing long enough to do more than quick bursts of air through his nose and because Bucky's pressing in closer. He wants more, and there's the feedback loop again because damn Sam is more than willing to sit like this for as long as they've got, and he wants -
And then his mind skips, a moment, because he's not sure the impression he got from Bucky's mind is the right one. He doesn't stop kissing him quite yet - he's still a little too caught up in hell yes more - but his mind curls around Bucky's more purposefully, seeking.
After a moment, he stops, though he doesn't pull away, leaning his forehead against Bucky's. He wants to ask how the hell Bucky can trust him that much, but he - they know each other. There's very little of Sam that Bucky hasn't seen, very few places in his mind that he hasn't touched. He wants to say no because the thought kind of makes him sick, but he can feel where Bucky's mind is going. ]
(I won't control you like that just to make you safer.) [ He'd rather kill Bucky if he has to than use the words to make him docile, even knowing Sam'll go out with him. ] (But I - could we use it to give you permission to say no, to want things? I don't know how this shit works.)
[In the back of Bucky's mind, there's a place that knows chasing happiness- chasing a high, really- is a bad idea. Separate from this, too, is the programming, burning him for wanting, for pursing that want, for engaging it. The two covalesce as Sam's lips part from his and Bucky's left breathless. A pleasant, summery haze has settled heavy in his head, but the programming is already at work attempting to evaporate every drop of happiness, to return the Soldier to a sterile, neutral affect.
However, it does have the side effect of clearing his head, of allowing him to actually think about Sam's question instead of glossing over it. He... honestly doesn't know. The words have only ever been utilized to use him: extract information, tame him, provide protection. If someone with kinder intentions said them, he's uncertain of their effect. What he does understand from decades of hearing them, however, is that they create a sense of safety, as oxymoronic as it sounds.
With the words, the Soldier- Bucky- can never be too erratic, too dangerous, too fast. He pulls up the second-hand memories of the robbery on the Waypoint, of the Soldier moving for the door. Saying the words should, in theory, prevent the Soldier from getting out into an innocent population. In regards to the smaller level issues like saying no and wanting things, though, only testing could provide answers.
Sitting a touch further back, but keeping at least one point of contact with Sam, he bites his bottom lip and drops his gaze.]
[ It's a great idea as far as Sam's concerned. Or at least - it's a great idea to pursue what makes you happy, except maybe this should come with some actual talking about things and figuring things out. The programming is its own brand of hell.
Sam's always at least subconsciously aware of it, as strong as his and Bucky's connection is, and there's a part of him that rears up protectively when he feels it trying to burn out Bucky's happiness, trying to take away what he wants and leave him empty. He wants to fight, to haul Bucky in and chase off the programming, but they've learned first hand that facing it head on doesn't always work, and they've always had better outcomes at trying to subvert it.
Bucky still wants to protect everyone else, and Sam - loves him a little bit more, right then, even as he feels a little nauseous. Sam knows exactly how good of a person Bucky is, how much he wants to help people and how much he doesn't want to be used to hurt anyone again, but having someone say the words to make sure that happens...
And part of him wonders, how much of this is just because the words are what Bucky's conditioned to see as safe? Just to keep him in check, because that's what he's always known? But Sam has never treated Bucky like anything less than a person, never like someone who was fragile and couldn't handle himself, and he won't start now.
He won't do this to tame Bucky, to make him safer - to take away his ability to protect himself and react when he sees a threat. But their symbiote bond is strong, growing stronger every day, and it's been enough to challenge the programming in the past. Combine it with the words, and maybe they can subvert the programming more, give Bucky more control of himself.
Sam opens his mind wider, tugging on their brood link and beckoning Bucky in towards his mind. It's safer in there, with the programming at work. ]
(Come here? We can talk about how we're gonna do this.)
[Bucky's grateful that the usual burn of the programming seems more subdued than when he directly refuses. Instead of white-hot iron pressed to every bone in his body, it's like standing in an oven: radiating pain and heat rather than direct and sharp. This he can deal with. This he doesn't need to escape from right away. Bucky still keeps a hand on their broodlink, on the brush of fir and pine.
Over the link, though, there's no ignoring Sam's uncertainty, his reluctance to remove the muzzle on Bucky if only to place a leash. There's no guarantee that the words will even grant that sort of freedom. There's also not a sure way to know when to say them, either. In Berlin, the guy had only needed the words, but then the Soldier broke loose, in a way, turned on the speaker, and sought extraction. However, when coming out of cryo, with the machine, the danger seemed limited. Maybe a wipe is needed, to clear out the space for the Soldier without as much Bucky in the way. His power might give that to them and Sam could bring him back.
He hopes. Coming back is never a sure thing.
But for the potential reward of protecting the Nest, protecting Sam? Bucky would.
Sliding into the shared mind space, the forested path connecting them, is easier than ever. He's here.]
[ Bucky can deal with it, maybe, but it still makes Sam's defenses pull up a little. Bucky's happiness is... really, really important to him, and he hates that the programming continues to try to take that from him.
All he wants is - well, honestly, he just wants Bucky, in whatever way Bucky wants to let him have - but aside from that, is for Bucky to be able to be himself. If this works, god if this works, if it makes it easier for Bucky to be able to want things, to choose what orders he wants to follow and have his own opinions without fighting the programming tooth and nail, if this takes how far they've already come and pushes it more...
Sam allows himself a moment to enjoy his broodmate being more present in his mind, like the puffed up feathers of a pleased bird brushing against Bucky, delighting in the contact. Then he focuses more on the proposal, purposefully not letting himself think too much more about what this means and mulling over Bucky's thoughts on the when and the how. ]
(We'll bring you back. I'll always come for you, Bucky, no matter what.) [ Always, in this and anything else. One way another, Bucky won't ever be left alone again, won't ever be completely erased and controlled. ] (That's... not a bad idea. We know your power flips the switch, we could do it then. Get a plan in place for it happening again, make it so you can assess things appropriately instead of everything being a threat?)
[ There's a pause as he tries to figure out how to phrase what he wants to say next. ] (What would be the ideal situation, for you?)
[When designed by HYDRA, programmed to be a weapon and nothing more, happiness was never something allowed. Happiness would bridge into other emotions, other issues that could stand in the way of the Soldier functioning as a thing instead of a human.
But now that Bucky's gotten a taste of what it's like to be a person, to feel and want and live, he never wants to go back. There are so many unknown variables surrounding this fledgling plan and yet moving forward seems the best option. With Sam in his head and vice versa, Bucky's comfort grows, mentally leaning against Sam to simply be there with his broodmate, the fear quieting bit by bit.
I'll always come for you rings in his head, resonating with the old anxieties of being left behind, of laying in the cold, of staring up at the disappearing freight train. He loves Sam with every ounce of his person and yet that emotion can't quite drown out the memory of breathing with a broken body, knowing no one is coming for him. Or facing the cold of cryo, locked away where no one will find him.
That won't happen. Not with Sam.
The question reminds Bucky of the warnings that preceded the mission. Is this the best time to try something like this? Or would they be better suited for attempting on the Station? Bucky's not sure. They could go out to the desert if needed and the lack of tech may work to their favor.]
[ It'll be worth it. Hell, it's practically worth it now, feeling how much Bucky wants - well, how much he wants. That he wants at all, let alone that he wants to be a person, that he wants to have feelings.
That he wants to live. That - shit, that's worth everything. There's very little that Sam wouldn't do for that, Potentially facing the Soldier again, trying to rewrite the programming - why the hell not? It's not like they haven't used their brood bond to subvert it before, and it's not like Sam hadn't already thought of trying to use it to slowly burn out the programming.
They might as well use it against it, and if Bucky trusts him with this, for whatever reason - Sam will just have to make sure he demonstrates that he's worthy of that, that he makes sure he deserves it.
Both Bucky’s trust and the fact that Bucky actually challenges all his other experiences there, where he was always left behind or alone. Sam’s breath catches, the wings of his mind wrapping warm and solid around Bucky’s mental presence, twining their bond just a little bit more together. For once there's nothing he can say to express just how damn much he loves this man, so he just holds on.
He follows Bucky's thought process, humming absently in agreement. ]
(There's lots of places to get some distance, and we won't be indoors like on the Station. But I - what are you looking for me to say? I can suggest what came to my mind and get your response if you're not up to to answering that, but I figured I'd give you the floor first.)
[The problem is that Bucky doesn't know. He doesn't know what he wants Sam to say or how to say it. Bucky himself has no plan other than waiting until the Station so they don't compromise the mission, but, as Sam says, there's a lot more wide open space here, no narrow corridors of innocents the Soldier can slice through at a moment's notice.
He pauses. He wonders if his desire to not use the words here and now has to do with the mission itself or just how much distance the Soldier could put between him and the camp if released. Maybe all that space has its own downfalls; there are no locked doors between a loose Soldier and miles and miles of desert.
Would Sam come bring him back then? Would he be able to?
In the back of his mind, the programming whispers would he want to? Why would a leader take time to go in search of an erratic weapon with such an important mission?]
[ Sam hangs back, waits for Bucky to process through that as best as he can, until he starts to wonder what the real reason for his hesitation is.
Until he can feel Bucky questioning if he'd come bring him back, until he can feel the programming that Sam wouldn't want to. He reacts instinctively, wings furled up like a shield as he physically presses in close, resting his forehead against Bucky's.
Always, his mind murmurs, always always always, a promise just as much as it is a simple truth. As long as Bucky wants Sam, he'll be there. You will never be abandoned.
And the mission, well. Sam doesn't give a damn about it more than trying to bring everyone back safe and trying to keep their meddling in these people's lives to a minimum. ]
(You are so much more important than this mission. You're not a weapon to me, Bucky, you're...) [ And there he trails off, because he doesn't know what they are. They've agreed no definitions, not until they can figure out one that works, so he lets it go. Important is the main point. ] (We got time. We can figure it out together, I can suggest some things and see what you think.)
[More than kissing, Bucky enjoys this sort of intimate contact. Their foreheads press together and a sense of contentment, of love, washes across the link. He wants Sam to use the words, but the timing feels off, what with the mission and the stress placed on its success. A large part of him wants to run with Sam out into the desert, where they can be really alone for more than a few moments. But Sam needs to be here, needs to be the leader they all know him to be.
He can't let Sam push that to the wayside.]
(I'll think about it?) [He tries to make it sound like a statement, but he's questioning himself even as he responds. There's no promise they won't run into a situation where Sam needs to control Bucky, no promise that the Soldier won't emerge on this mission. He hates that uncertainty.]
[ Sam definitely digs the kissing but - honestly, he mostly just enjoys what Bucky's enjoying. Whatever kind of contact between them he can get, it's good, and all he wants is more of it. He scratches over his scalp again as Bucky considers their options.
They're not great, really, not as long as they're still on this damn mission. But it's what they've got. ]
(Good enough for me.) [ He tips his head the tiniest bit, just enough to press his lips faintly against Bucky's, before he returns to just resting his forehead against Bucky's. ] (We'll deal with it. Whatever comes, we'll face it together. You and me, we make a good team.)
[Bucky melts again with the scratching and if Sam hadn't pressed their lips together, he would have. That said, he follows Sam's kiss with a couple of his own. The same thrill as before pushes into his veins, just as intoxicating as ever. He wants to stop talking, about what could be, what should be. Right now, all he wants is to spend time with his... Sam. He wants to chase this thrill and explore the depths of it.]
[ For someone who likes talking so much, Sam's gotta admit there's times when it's overrated, and now is sure as hell one of them. He's got Bucky, they've got this, and Sam might not know exactly what it is, but who needs to when it's so much better to just feel?
If Bucky wants to live in the moment, Sam's right there with him. His pulses quickens, little points of heat igniting every where they're touching, and Sam drinks it all in eagerly. His mouth parts to draw Bucky's lower lip in, teeth grazing playfully before he soothes it with a swipe of his tongue.
His mental presence is playful, feathers skimming light and fleeting, the beat of his heart warm and encouraging. ]
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sizeofyourbaggage) wrote2016-05-22 03:26 pm
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Sam knows.
But whatever Bucky's gonna see, it's not gonna be alone. Sam shifts his hand, sliding it down in Bucky's grip so he can tangle their fingers together. Then he pulls out the mirror in his shaving kit with his free hand, holding it up and angling it so they can both see into it. ]
( Whattya think? )
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[The other Bucky, he means, but doesn't say aloud. His grip on Sam's hand tightens. The beard won't get caught in the disguise anymore, that's for sure. Is this how he's always looked? Underneath the beard? His eyes seem sunken in and without the beard, his cheeks seem to be almost cut into, his jaw solid under all the hair.]
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[ But he does look a little bit more like him, maybe - the same way Sam might look a little more like the guy he used to be when he first enlisted if he shaved. He squeezes Bucky's hand back, leaning against him a little. ]
( We can leave some stubble next time, see if that fits more. You can change that up however you want, you know? Beard, hair, clothes - it's okay not to settle on anything for a while. Figure out what you like. )
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He breathes out, seven-eight-nine-ten-eleven, and breathes in again, one-two-three-four-five-six, before he leans back against Sam.
He's just Bucky.
There's a silent acknowledgment of Sam's proposition, of trying things until they figure out the best option. For now, this is livable, the braids and feathers are enough to keep him grounded in the here and now with Sam.
The mirror's just close enough that he can tap it with the end of his stump, something he's not really ever done before. His left arm mostly goes unused except to prop open books or stabilize himself against something. It's a strange sensation touching it to metal and there's a little bit of a spark that makes him pull it back immediately.]
( What about this other guy in here? ) [Talking about Sam's reflection.] ( I like his eyes. )
[Okay so maybe he did hear Sam's comment on his eyes, but chose to ignore it for the liplock.]
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It's something Sam's tried his best to make clear to him, that Sam's got no frame of reference for whoever Bucky was back in the stone age, and feeling it coming from Bucky himself is pretty damn nice. He loves the guy sitting next to him, for better or worse.
He watches curiously as Bucky reaches out to tap the mirror with the metal stump - and somewhere absently in the back of his mind he wonders if they could do something to help with that - but then his attention is caught by what Bucky says.
Sam laughs, surprised and pleased, as he leans in a little closer. So he was listening to him when he was flirting a little. ]
( You do, huh? Look at that, we're figuring out things you like already. )
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( Guess I am. )
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( Hope you know how much I'm looking forward to learning. )
[ He doesn't want to break away from the kiss enough to ask, but his desire to touch, to trail fingers down the shape of Bucky's jawline is obvious enough, and there's a silent impression of can I? ]
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For all Bucky's nerves regarding his ability, he finds comfort in Sam's enthusiasm, in his desire to learn what Bucky likes. Bucky's not sure he's ever met someone like Sam. At the silent question, Bucky sends a mote of agreement, the sense of nodding his head. Be careful accompanies the the notion, but he expresses clear consent regardless.]
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More than Sam's desire for physical contact with someone he loves usually is, anyway, which admittedly is still pretty strong.
He hums in satisfaction across the mental link, fingers scratching soothingly through Bucky's hair at those nerves, just a quiet acknowledgement that Sam's got no complaints here. When he gets consent from Bucky, he slides his hand down, nice and slow, a natural extension from in his hair down behind his ear to run his thumb down along his jaw as he kisses him.
He's never really said it before, mostly because he was more focused on showing it, but he kind of figures he should actually put it to words at least once. ]
( I'm never gonna hurt you, Bucky. Not unless I'm doing what I promised I would. ) [ But that's a different kind of hurt, this is - Sam might know the words, locked away somewhere no one else can get them, but he wouldn't ever use them, won't ever use pain or fear to try to control him. ]
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Use them passes over the link, accompanied by a surge of pine and fir. There's no doubt he trusts Sam not to hurt him; it's the triggers, the symbiote, that bring about the unpredictability.]
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And then his mind skips, a moment, because he's not sure the impression he got from Bucky's mind is the right one. He doesn't stop kissing him quite yet - he's still a little too caught up in hell yes more - but his mind curls around Bucky's more purposefully, seeking.
After a moment, he stops, though he doesn't pull away, leaning his forehead against Bucky's. He wants to ask how the hell Bucky can trust him that much, but he - they know each other. There's very little of Sam that Bucky hasn't seen, very few places in his mind that he hasn't touched. He wants to say no because the thought kind of makes him sick, but he can feel where Bucky's mind is going. ]
( I won't control you like that just to make you safer. ) [ He'd rather kill Bucky if he has to than use the words to make him docile, even knowing Sam'll go out with him. ] ( But I - could we use it to give you permission to say no, to want things? I don't know how this shit works. )
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However, it does have the side effect of clearing his head, of allowing him to actually think about Sam's question instead of glossing over it. He... honestly doesn't know. The words have only ever been utilized to use him: extract information, tame him, provide protection. If someone with kinder intentions said them, he's uncertain of their effect. What he does understand from decades of hearing them, however, is that they create a sense of safety, as oxymoronic as it sounds.
With the words, the Soldier- Bucky- can never be too erratic, too dangerous, too fast. He pulls up the second-hand memories of the robbery on the Waypoint, of the Soldier moving for the door. Saying the words should, in theory, prevent the Soldier from getting out into an innocent population. In regards to the smaller level issues like saying no and wanting things, though, only testing could provide answers.
Sitting a touch further back, but keeping at least one point of contact with Sam, he bites his bottom lip and drops his gaze.]
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Sam's always at least subconsciously aware of it, as strong as his and Bucky's connection is, and there's a part of him that rears up protectively when he feels it trying to burn out Bucky's happiness, trying to take away what he wants and leave him empty. He wants to fight, to haul Bucky in and chase off the programming, but they've learned first hand that facing it head on doesn't always work, and they've always had better outcomes at trying to subvert it.
Bucky still wants to protect everyone else, and Sam - loves him a little bit more, right then, even as he feels a little nauseous. Sam knows exactly how good of a person Bucky is, how much he wants to help people and how much he doesn't want to be used to hurt anyone again, but having someone say the words to make sure that happens...
And part of him wonders, how much of this is just because the words are what Bucky's conditioned to see as safe? Just to keep him in check, because that's what he's always known? But Sam has never treated Bucky like anything less than a person, never like someone who was fragile and couldn't handle himself, and he won't start now.
He won't do this to tame Bucky, to make him safer - to take away his ability to protect himself and react when he sees a threat. But their symbiote bond is strong, growing stronger every day, and it's been enough to challenge the programming in the past. Combine it with the words, and maybe they can subvert the programming more, give Bucky more control of himself.
Sam opens his mind wider, tugging on their brood link and beckoning Bucky in towards his mind. It's safer in there, with the programming at work. ]
( Come here? We can talk about how we're gonna do this. )
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Over the link, though, there's no ignoring Sam's uncertainty, his reluctance to remove the muzzle on Bucky if only to place a leash. There's no guarantee that the words will even grant that sort of freedom. There's also not a sure way to know when to say them, either. In Berlin, the guy had only needed the words, but then the Soldier broke loose, in a way, turned on the speaker, and sought extraction. However, when coming out of cryo, with the machine, the danger seemed limited. Maybe a wipe is needed, to clear out the space for the Soldier without as much Bucky in the way. His power might give that to them and Sam could bring him back.
He hopes. Coming back is never a sure thing.
But for the potential reward of protecting the Nest, protecting Sam? Bucky would.
Sliding into the shared mind space, the forested path connecting them, is easier than ever. He's here.]
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All he wants is - well, honestly, he just wants Bucky, in whatever way Bucky wants to let him have - but aside from that, is for Bucky to be able to be himself. If this works, god if this works, if it makes it easier for Bucky to be able to want things, to choose what orders he wants to follow and have his own opinions without fighting the programming tooth and nail, if this takes how far they've already come and pushes it more...
Sam allows himself a moment to enjoy his broodmate being more present in his mind, like the puffed up feathers of a pleased bird brushing against Bucky, delighting in the contact. Then he focuses more on the proposal, purposefully not letting himself think too much more about what this means and mulling over Bucky's thoughts on the when and the how. ]
( We'll bring you back. I'll always come for you, Bucky, no matter what. ) [ Always, in this and anything else. One way another, Bucky won't ever be left alone again, won't ever be completely erased and controlled. ] ( That's... not a bad idea. We know your power flips the switch, we could do it then. Get a plan in place for it happening again, make it so you can assess things appropriately instead of everything being a threat? )
[ There's a pause as he tries to figure out how to phrase what he wants to say next. ] ( What would be the ideal situation, for you? )
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But now that Bucky's gotten a taste of what it's like to be a person, to feel and want and live, he never wants to go back. There are so many unknown variables surrounding this fledgling plan and yet moving forward seems the best option. With Sam in his head and vice versa, Bucky's comfort grows, mentally leaning against Sam to simply be there with his broodmate, the fear quieting bit by bit.
I'll always come for you rings in his head, resonating with the old anxieties of being left behind, of laying in the cold, of staring up at the disappearing freight train. He loves Sam with every ounce of his person and yet that emotion can't quite drown out the memory of breathing with a broken body, knowing no one is coming for him. Or facing the cold of cryo, locked away where no one will find him.
That won't happen. Not with Sam.
The question reminds Bucky of the warnings that preceded the mission. Is this the best time to try something like this?
Or would they be better suited for attempting on the Station? Bucky's not sure. They could go out to the desert if needed and the lack of tech may work to their favor.]
( Not sure. )
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That he wants to live. That - shit, that's worth everything. There's very little that Sam wouldn't do for that, Potentially facing the Soldier again, trying to rewrite the programming - why the hell not? It's not like they haven't used their brood bond to subvert it before, and it's not like Sam hadn't already thought of trying to use it to slowly burn out the programming.
They might as well use it against it, and if Bucky trusts him with this, for whatever reason - Sam will just have to make sure he demonstrates that he's worthy of that, that he makes sure he deserves it.
Both Bucky’s trust and the fact that Bucky actually challenges all his other experiences there, where he was always left behind or alone. Sam’s breath catches, the wings of his mind wrapping warm and solid around Bucky’s mental presence, twining their bond just a little bit more together. For once there's nothing he can say to express just how damn much he loves this man, so he just holds on.
He follows Bucky's thought process, humming absently in agreement. ]
( There's lots of places to get some distance, and we won't be indoors like on the Station. But I - what are you looking for me to say? I can suggest what came to my mind and get your response if you're not up to to answering that, but I figured I'd give you the floor first. )
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He pauses. He wonders if his desire to not use the words here and now has to do with the mission itself or just how much distance the Soldier could put between him and the camp if released. Maybe all that space has its own downfalls; there are no locked doors between a loose Soldier and miles and miles of desert.
Would Sam come bring him back then? Would he be able to?
In the back of his mind, the programming whispers would he want to? Why would a leader take time to go in search of an erratic weapon with such an important mission?]
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Until he can feel Bucky questioning if he'd come bring him back, until he can feel the programming that Sam wouldn't want to. He reacts instinctively, wings furled up like a shield as he physically presses in close, resting his forehead against Bucky's.
Always, his mind murmurs, always always always, a promise just as much as it is a simple truth. As long as Bucky wants Sam, he'll be there. You will never be abandoned.
And the mission, well. Sam doesn't give a damn about it more than trying to bring everyone back safe and trying to keep their meddling in these people's lives to a minimum. ]
( You are so much more important than this mission. You're not a weapon to me, Bucky, you're... ) [ And there he trails off, because he doesn't know what they are. They've agreed no definitions, not until they can figure out one that works, so he lets it go. Important is the main point. ] ( We got time. We can figure it out together, I can suggest some things and see what you think. )
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He can't let Sam push that to the wayside.]
( I'll think about it? ) [He tries to make it sound like a statement, but he's questioning himself even as he responds. There's no promise they won't run into a situation where Sam needs to control Bucky, no promise that the Soldier won't emerge on this mission. He hates that uncertainty.]
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They're not great, really, not as long as they're still on this damn mission. But it's what they've got. ]
( Good enough for me. ) [ He tips his head the tiniest bit, just enough to press his lips faintly against Bucky's, before he returns to just resting his forehead against Bucky's. ] ( We'll deal with it. Whatever comes, we'll face it together. You and me, we make a good team. )
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If Bucky wants to live in the moment, Sam's right there with him. His pulses quickens, little points of heat igniting every where they're touching, and Sam drinks it all in eagerly. His mouth parts to draw Bucky's lower lip in, teeth grazing playfully before he soothes it with a swipe of his tongue.
His mental presence is playful, feathers skimming light and fleeting, the beat of his heart warm and encouraging. ]