[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
no subject
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. )
no subject
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. )
no subject
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?]
no subject
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. )
no subject
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.]
no subject
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. )
no subject
no subject
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. ]