INAUGURAL TEST DRIVE MEME

[happyheartsstaff]

TEST DRIVE MEME: WELCOME TO HAPPY HEARTS

You wake up in a padded box. It rocks, gently, as though suspended in mid-air. You begin to stir, confusion or distress pushing you to try to sit up — and then the air begins to smell sweet, and you fall back asleep.

You wake up in a padded box. For a moment, you are beatifically calm. You don't know how you got here, or why, but that isn't really all that important. You don't need to know where you are. You're just... here. And here is a wonderful place to be.

But there is a niggling suspicion growing in the back of your mind. A suspicion that here is not somewhere you wanted to be. That it is not where you're supposed to be. You remember... chasing a white rabbit (or was it a person)? A mirror? Bright light, and green ivy crawling over your skin... Before you can worry too much, the box jolts, and then settles, and after a long moment the walls fall from around you to reveal —

A hotel lobby?

"Welcome to the Happy Hearts Hotel and Casino," says an attendant behind a desk. "We're so pleased you could join us for our grand opening gala. We have your room keys and Empathies here, please make an orderly line and we'll hand them out once we've confirmed identities. After that, feel free to explore the hotel! We highly recommend starting with the casino. Everyone's a winner here in Happy Hearts!"

Is this normal? It doesn't feel normal. And hey — you could swear you had shoes before!

I. THE CASINO FLOOR

As you pass through the entrance to the casino floor, an attendant passes you a small bag of chips. The casino is loud and bright and filled with games of every kind — you want to play poker? They've got a table for that. Sabacc? There's a table for that, too. Slots, pachinko, and bingo are also available. The attendant in the lobby wasn't lying, either — everyone who plays wins. Everyone, every time.

Servers wander the floor with trays of shotglasses full of multi-coloured liquids, offering them to every oyster "Compliments of Her Royal Highness." If you're expecting alcohol, though, you'll be surprised — these drinks are teas made of the distilled emotions of every oyster in the hotel. Each colour tea corresponds to a different emotion, and as soon as you take a sip, you feel overcome with that emotion.

JOY — the distilled essence of happiness, this tea makes even the most rough and tumble of oysters giddy with happiness — for a moment. The effect fades into a sense of general contentment after a few seconds, and that itself fades away slowly over the course of twenty minutes.
ANGER — this tea, anger in liquid form, can make the most even-tempered of oysters ready to absolutely blow a gasket. For twenty minutes, anyone who drinks this tea will find themselves much more easily annoyed, frustrated, and all around irritable and snappy.
SADNESS — distilled sadness is a potent tea, capable of turning a stoic, stalwart oyster into a blubbering mess in moments. Events that may have previously only been a minor disappointment become the end of the world, every repressed unhappiness comes to the fore, and for twenty minutes, any oyster who drank a sadness tea can hardly keep themselves together.

II. MAKE YOURSELF AT HOME

If gambling isn't to your interest, there are many other areas of the hotel to explore! For the moment, only The Pool Of Tears and the Pig & Pepper buffet are available for oysters to peruse, but the staff will assure anyone who asks that the other facilities will be open by the next day. Unfortunately, that means no one can buy any swimsuits from This Elegant Thimble, but the staff aren't going to kick anyone out of the pool for jumping in in their clothes! The Pig & Pepper serves lunch foods from across all different cultures, offering something for everyone, and some things you've never even heard of.

Maybe you just want to be alone — well, that's what you have your room key for! Oysters room on the second and third floors of the hotel, one to a room. You were assured your room would be exactly what you'd always wished for — and for some, that's right! It's exactly as you would have decorated it yourself. But for others, their rooms are totally wrong. A grizzled cowboy can't have a pink room! Hotel staff are firm, though: every room is exactly as its owner wants it to be. Search your feelings, oyster. You know it to be true.

III. YOU'VE BEEN NAUGHTY

Curiosity is not, on its own, a trait the staff want to discourage. Oysters are free to search for ways out of the hotel, but they won't find anything — there are no doors anywhere in the lobby or the casino, the windows are impenetrable, the walls don't crumble no matter how hard anyone hits them. The elevator between floors has no service hatch, and there are no stairs to take. The hotel is, at least so far as anyone can tell, a completely closed system.

Now, in light of this, Happy Hearts knows some oysters can be a little... reactionary. Especially when cornered, especially the ones with powers or abilities beyond the average human. With this in mind, any oyster found to be destructive or combative won't be punished. Not yet. They will, however, be quickly incapacitated by hotel staff, drugged to incoherence, and brought discretely to a hidden back room. No one notices these oysters disappearing, nor the doors they must have been dragged through.

In this room, troublesome oysters sit, paralyzed, across from a woman in red. She smiles, and offers candy from a bowl on her desk, and laughs to herself when she remembers the oysters can't take one.

You're new, she says, kindly, so it's understandable that you're having trouble adjusting to the hotel. We promise to do all we can to make your stay here as fulfilling as possible, so you have nothing to worry about. Your experience is our top priority.

She plucks a candy disk from her bowl, and unwraps it slowly.

But you must know: if you endanger our other guests again like you have today, there will be punishments. We pride ourselves on the emotional experience we offer our oysters, and we can't let anything get in the way of that. For everyone's safety and happiness, you understand.

She pops the candy in her mouth, sucks for a moment, and smiles broadly.

That's all.

The oyster is brought, still paralyzed and incoherent, back to the hotel. No one notices them return. The paths taken through the hotel to bring them to the woman in red fade from their mind as soon as they arrive back on the hotel floor. They're left in the lobby to sit and think until the paralysis wears off.

And then they can go back to having fun in the casino!

IV. HEY! LISTEN!

At the end of the day, every oyster's Empathy device buzzes, pings, and lights up — there's a message waiting for them!

A woman with red hair and a teal dress, sat on a throne with her hands held delicately in her lap and her legs crossed daintily at the ankle, looks into the camera, smiling.

"Hello, my dear oysters! We're so pleased you could join us. I am Victoria Hart, the humble Queen of this realm, and I wanted to personally welcome you to the Happy Hearts hotel, and thank you for your gifts. We will not squander them, dears, as we will not allow your stay with us to be anything less than perfect. If you need anything at all, I'm sure hotel staff will be happy to provide, and I will be keeping an eye on all of you, to ensure your experience remains a positive one.

Welcome, darlings. This is the beginning of something wonderful."

The message saves to each oyster's Empathy, and an app pops up on the screen: the community bulletin board. The queen doesn't respond to any messages sent to her, but the other oysters might. It's worth a shot, right?



Welcome to the first TDM of Happy Hearts, a new panfandom roleplaying game here on DW! If you have any questions, please direct them to the first comment on this page. Happy playing, oysters!

Comments

[rzhavyy]

[Steve leans into the contact, and Bucky fairly unceremoniously tugs him in a little, so the height difference is less apparent. But for the moment he just enjoys the contact. He'd thought he'd made his peace with Steve, with the fact of leaving him behind to get into God-knows-what kind of trouble without him. But having him back, even if he's the wrong size, even if it's only been hours since he saw him last -- he still just wants to hold on to him for a while.

He laughs at Steve's easy reply, and that makes it easy enough to not pry for the details, at least for now. His body might be wrong, but he knew those blue eyes, the lines of his face, even with a slightly stronger jaw, his features more chiseled. He knew the heart that resided in that frame, and that was still there.

At the question, his own blues slide sideways, looking over at him with a sort of incredulity, and his arm around his shoulders tightens a little in a faint not-quite reprimand. He knows there's somethin' else going on here, somethin' that seems like it's straight outta one of those Flash Gordon comics, or the Science Fiction novels he liked.

There's a part of him that's angry about it, if he's honest. Not at Steve, but at the world. That it was so blind and so full of nonsense about what kinda people had worth that Steve felt like he had to do this, that he felt like he had to put himself into a different body just for people to see how good he was. It's not a new kind of anger, of course, and Bucky just shakes his head.]

What the Hell kinda question is that? Of course I know you. Steve Rogers, most stubborn punk in Brooklyn, my best-friend, and a helluva artist.

[Punk is a term of endearment, of course. Just like it always has been, ever since the beginning, back when they were kids. If he was shorter, he might have messed his hair up. But he settles for just shaking his head in disbelief with a roll of his eyes that's easier than actually digging into what's going on here, why he's asking. Those are questions he wont let stew for too long, but with how everything's strange around them, he just wants to hold onto this one familiar thing. Steve Rogers; artist, friend and general pain in his ass.]

C'mon, I've known you most of my life, Stevie.

[ex_serum683]

❰ god, it's been so long since he heard that laugh. to hear it again punches the wind out of steve, leaves this terrible lightness in his guts. he feels like he's going to fall apart, same as he did when bucky fell — long, blubbering weeping that ends with him feeling exactly as he did before he started, because his throat never gets sore anymore and he hasn't had a headache in five years, give or take.

steve lets out a shuddering breath and turns in to bucky, wrapping his other arm around bucky's waist and pulling him into a tight hug. they've never been shy about physical affection, they hug just fine when it's needful, but even so he doesn't think it's ever been... like this. so tight he feels like bucky might burst and yet he can't bring himself to step back even so. they never even hugged like this when one of them almost died.

almost feels like the crucial qualifier, here. ❱

It's so damn good to see you, Bucky.

❰ good to hear all that come out of his mouth — after the winter soldier nearly beat steve half to death when steve tried to convince him of it himself, it's so damn good to hear bucky say it all. steve had been so sure he'd never get the numb horror of who the hell is bucky out of his head.

but that does mean they should figure out what's happened here. reluctantly, very reluctantly, steve steps back, though one hand migrates from bucky's waist to his shoulder and stays there, unwilling to drop. ❱

What year is it for you, '43? Have you shipped out yet?

[rzhavyy]

[Steve pulls him into a hug and Bucky reciprocates without even thinking about it. He'd thought that might be the last time he saw him before he shipped out, so he'd hugged Steve at the recruitment station at the Stark Expo, and even if that was hours ago, it still feels like something they both need. Steve's changed, the world they're in isn't theirs, but they're both here and that's something. So he hugs him, pulls him in a little tighter, a little closer. He can feel Steve's desperation in how he holds onto him, and even if he doesn't understand the how or the why, he's never been shy about indulging it. They were best friends. Bucky had spent nights by his side, changing cold water compresses on his forehead when he was sick, been there for each other through everything.

What was this? Just one more thing. Maybe he didn't know the shape of it, but he was absolutely sure that it was nothin' they couldn't figure out together.

There's a huff of breath at the words, a wry smile as he claps a hand against Steve's back, holding onto him. He feels different, strange in the way that it's Steve's shoulders that are bigger than his own now. And it makes something strange twist in his chest. The realization that Steve doesn't need him to protect him anymore, and he's not jealous- if anything he's mostly glad that the world can see the kid the way that he always has- but there's still a strange feeling, an almost-fear of losing something. And maybe that's why he holds on so tight.]

Yeah, I know. Who else is gonna teach you how to dance with the dames?

[Teasing Steve is easy, of course, makes this feel a little easier, somehow, like there's room to breathe. Leaning into that familiarity, like he can hold onto that idea that nothing's changed between them, no matter how clear it seems that things are different. Steve steps back, and Bucky lets him, though his hand comes up to rest against his arm, maintaining that connection, that tactile touch that's like some sort of lifeline for the things they can't, or don't need to say in words.]

Shipping out for London first thing in the morning. I had a nice night with these two gals, cause my best-friend ditched me.

[Playful, with a lift of an eyebrow. Then he blinks, like he's considering something, like the particular way that question is odd suddenly registers. But rather than upset, Bucky seems almost excited, bright-eyed and a little bit breathless. It's not possible, is it?]

Are you tellin' me this is some kind of time-travel?

[ex_serum683]

❰ jesus, mary, and joseph, before he even shipped out. for a second steve is too stunned to really say anything — he'd guessed '43, but he hadn't expected to be right — and then bucky's eyes widen and brighten and aw, hell, he did always love those sci-fi pulps, didn't he?

steve had almost forgotten. ❱

I don't know that it's time-travel, ❰ steve says, cautious, even as he can't help smiling. ❱ But I don't look like I did the day before you shipped out, do I?

❰ bucky had been so angry the first time through this conversation — furious that steve would make himself a human science experiment and join the army all because he couldn't stand to be stuck at him. he hadn't said as much, but steve could tell bucky kind of felt like it was ungrateful of him — steve got to stay home, safe, and he could have gotten himself killed just trying to leave. maybe now, removed from all of it — maybe bucky will be as excited as steve was, when he came out of the rebirth chamber. maybe he'll think it's as amazing as steve did.

he reaches for his door again, keycard slapping uselessly at the handle, but he doesn't want to look away from bucky. ❱

Come into my room, we can talk about it. There's so much I gotta tell ya, Buck.

[rzhavyy]

[Steve smiles and that somehow makes it all that much easier, takes off a little bit of the concern, the worry that had seemed so heavy in his friend's eyes. And the way Steve says those words is careful, that he's not sure, and Bucky can only shake his head with a touch of a laugh at the question, taking the opportunity to look him over again, from broad shoulders to the short hair and blue eyes.

It's impossible, and yet he's standing before him, and there's that curl of his mouth, almost a smirk as he meets his eyes. He rocks on his heels a little, playfully obstinate, something in the set of his jaw.]

In the ways that matter. But I'm guessin' you've been through more than just the recruitment station.

[It's mad, really. The fact of this, staring him in the face. And he reaches up, curling fingers against the back of Steve's neck, and he can't help laughing as something dawns on him, shocking and wrong in the way that this upset so many of those truths of the universe that have been true throughout all of their lives. It was like the order of the universe turned on its head, one of those stories where someone ends up on the moon.] You're older than me.

[There's an awe to it, even as the words feel strange on his tongue, because it's one of those things that you never expect to change. He can guess at some of it, of course, even if he doesn't know the specifics. And just as Steve's inviting him into his room, his hand creeps up and he can't resist the urge to mess up his hair, elbow him lightly in the side in a faint kind of reprimand that's not pointed. Not the feelings Bucky would have if he'd seen war, seen torture and tragedy and not just his own fears about it, and when this place they are feels some strange kind of safe.]

Toldja not to do anything stupid until I got back. But c'mon. I wanna hear about it all. Punk.

[ex_serum683]

❰ the relief that courses through steve is so all-consuming that for a moment he doesn't even know what he's relieved of. it's just a sudden and intense lifting of a weight he hadn't realized he was carrying, a lightening of his shoulders that makes him stand a little straighter.

bucky still sees him. that's it, that's what he's feeling — for the first time in two years, he's known.

he laughs, and steve smiles. ❱

Yeah, I guess I am. 28, now.

❰ to bucky's 26. it's not so big a gap, but it feels like decades — like seventy years, maybe. like the difference between preparing for war and actually seeing it. bucky ruffles steve's hair and that finally gets steve to bat him away, edging out from under his hand with a breathless laugh. he gets the keycard into the lock, this time, and opens the door to his room, and doesn't even flinch this time — it hurts so much less to look at with bucky at his back.

the furnishings, at least, are about a thousand times fancier than anything they had in their tenement in brooklyn. if it weren't for the layout of the space, steve wouldn't even be able to recognize what they were trying to do. but here, after a fashion, is the apartment they shared after steve's mother passed. here is where the kitchen would have been, there is the wall with a window looking into the living space, there is the corner steve's bed would have been pushed into, there is bucky's. the kitchen's been turned into a sitting area, there's only one bed, everything is clean and modern and brightly lit, but it's impossible to miss what they were going for.

steve walks into the room and leaves the door open behind him for bucky to follow through, looking around at the space. ❱

Does it count if the stupid thing I did, I did before you even shipped out?

❰ the question is a bit distant, distracted as steve is by the way his memory of the space is trying to superimpose itself over the reality of it. ❱

[commando]

[Twenty-eight years old. It's not really all that long, but it's still enough to knock him for a loop for a moment. He should be twenty-five, always a year younger, except for those handful of months between March and July. It's only a few years, but it feels like so much more somehow. But he brushes it off for the moment, a smile on his face as Steve finally bats him away and opens the door to his room.

Bucky isn't sure what he's expecting, but it's not what he sees. The furnishings are lavish, but he remembers the layout. It wasn't really that long since he'd been back to their apartment-- just that afternoon, and then he'd only been gone for a few months before, when he'd been at Camp McCoy for training. It's brighter, warmer, clean and uncluttered and there are changes that mark it as a hotel room and not an apartment,m but it still catches his breath with the familiarity.

Bucky follows him through the door, unable to help the way that he looks around in almost-awe.]

Course it still counts.

[Bucky's voice is soft, a little bit absent himself. Because there's something strange about the juxtaposition of it. Their old apartment fit into this space, and Steve standing here with his broad shoulders, and Bucky here in his dress uniform, cover held absently in his fingers.]

I can't believe this. They really weren't kidding about giving you what you wanted most, were they? Think mine's the same thing?

[Bucky hadn't made it to his own room yet, just across the hall, with as distracted as he'd gotten by Steve. But the truth is that he wants to stay with Steve, and the idea of sleeping on his couch is more comfortable than having his own bed in another room. It feels a little ridiculous, but seeing Steve like this, knowing that it's been years, it just heightens that camaraderie they'd always had, two friends all but attached at the hip--

Except it feels like so much has changed.]

[ex_serum683]

❰ bucky doesn't know the half of it — their old building was torn down in the 60s, decades before steve came out of the ice. people weren't as interested in captain america's legacy then, definitely not enough to want to preserve the dumpy tenement apartment he shared with his best friend. that was both a boon and a curse after steve woke up — he couldn't torture himself walking around the building like a ghost, but his home was gone. his home was gone anyway, of course, but the whole building... it was like all evidence of steve rogers had been slowly, meticulously wiped from the earth. captain america may as well have stepped fully formed from the tank of project rebirth, a construct with no history or reality outside of the war.

no matter how much cleaner this is, how much better appointed, it's proof that he was real, before the serum. the things he remembers aren't just lies his brain tells him. ❱

I don't know, ❰ he ends up saying, looking up at bucky and blinking for a moment. his expression slides into something almost teasing, bright. ❱ Remember, after the liberation, we got a few days furlough and they put us up at the Ritz? Might be like that. You wouldn't shut up about that mattress for weeks.

❰ steve's features are expectant, waiting for bucky to tease back — it hasn't occurred to him yet that no, bucky doesn't remember. bucky doesn't know steve was in the army at all. ❱

[commando]

[Bucky's still looking around the space, taking it in, trying to process that for all the strangeness that there is still this place here that feels like home. It's fancier, there's a living room instead of a kitchen, which he supposes makes sense with the buffet downstairs, but it's familiar. Reminds him of their apartment, of that space they used to inhabit together, even if this one has one bed instead of two. Not that they'd never shared a bed before; when even all the blankets in the world weren't enough for Steve's small frame and all Bucky could offer was body heat.

And then there's that teasing that lights up Steve's face, but Bucky doesn't remember it, because he hasn't gone to war. He looks at Steve with a lift of an eyebrow, and instead of laughing mirth, there's a creeping sort of exasperation that he fixes Steve with. Because those words tell him two things. Both that he thinks maybe they won the war, which means Steve made it through alright, and also that Steve was in the war.

And he's not stupid, he'd suspected something like that. With Steve saying it had been before he'd shipped out, he could only guess it had something to do with that recruitment station and maybe some sort of crazy idea like that flying car he'd been so entranced by. But it's different to hear him give a voice to it, to so casually talk about getting a few days furlough.]

I can't believe you. All this just so you could sign up for the war.

[He shakes his head, sighing as he sits down on the edge of the couch, endeared and exasperated all at once. Because let's be honest- if he didn't admire Steve's refusal to back down from a fight, his stubborn refusal to accept the limits people placed on him they never would have been friends in the first place. And he does get it. He's seen how people treated Steve, the way that they talked about him. He's seen Doctors that didn't think he deserved treatment and that it would be better to let him die. So he knows why Steve felt like he had something to prove, and why Bucky could never talk him out of that- because it was the world he wanted to show something to, not his best friend.

Bucky could never be quite enough to shield him from that, no matter how much he tried. He shakes his head, holding out a hand in invitation for Steve to sit next to him.]

C'mon. Why don't you start from the beginning?

[ex_serum683]

❰ ...oh. right. 1943. bucky'd had no idea that steve ended up in the army. not that steve wasn't planning on telling him — he'd have to explain his new body sooner or later, and the army played a big role in him getting it — but if he'd remembered that bucky didn't remember, he might have led into it a little more... delicately. as it is, steve just looks at bucky with an expression that's almost sheepish... but only almost.

he always meant to join the army, bucky knew that, and steve doesn't feel bad about it. he might feel a little bad that bucky didn't know that he'd succeeded until steve was breaking him out of the factory in austria, though. ❱

Technically I got this way because I signed up, not so that I could, ❰ steve says, coming to sit next to bucky, trying to figure out how to explain it all. ❱ The night before you shipped out, after you left to dance with the girls, I was about to get my physical when a doctor came in. He knew I'd lied on my forms, but he didn't want to turn me in, he wanted to recruit me for a secret project.

❰ and so steve explains, briefly, the road to project rebirth. how erskine believed in him, what a spitfire peggy was, how proud steve was to be chosen, out of all the more fit candidates. he stops after getting out of the tank, not sure how to keep going. ❱

Peggy was so shocked, she touched me. I don't think she even realized she was doing it, she just —

❰ steve reaches out in demonstration, tapping his fingertips against bucky's pectoral and then snatching his hand back, as though he'd only just realized what he was doing. ❱

[commando]

[Steve sits down and Bucky listens. There's that moment of exasperation, of what did I tell you when he mentions that the doctor knew he'd lied on his forms, but then Steve continues on, and honestly, Bucky just real glad that he didn't get himself arrested at first. And it's so Steve, somehow. Of course he'd jump at the chance, sign himself up for something like this. Any sort of crazy scheme if it gave him a chance.

And Bucky can't blame him, not really, even if there's something that twists inside of him. He'd always assumed that Steve would be the brother he'd never had for all of his life. And there's that feeling from before, like he's lost something, even if he doesn't quite know how to explain it. And then it clicks, sudden and surprising -- he'd just assumed that Steve would always need him. And the simple fact is that he doesn't. He doesn't need Bucky looking out for him, beating off the bullies, trying to keep him from getting them in trouble.

And from the way he talks about Peggy, he's pretty sure he doesn't need Bucky setting them up on double dates, neither. He doesn't really know what to do with that. It doesn't make Steve not his best friend, isn't that he thinks Steve's gonna leave him behind, but it just-- changes things, somehow. Make it so that as he watches him tell his story, he doesn't see the small kid that he's always had to protect, but someone with all of Steve Roger's fire and courage and beauty who doesn't need to be looked after.

And then Steve's explaining what it was like, the process, and coming out of Howard's machine, and Peggy's response, and he's honestly proud of him, too. Knowing that Steve made it through gives him the freedom to not have to worry about all the ways it could go wrong, and instead focus on the fact that now the rest of the world could see him like he did.

Then those fingers touch against his chest, and it feels strange. His fingers are different, even though he can still feel the warmth through the layers of his uniform. He smiles, beaming as he rocks into Steve's side, bumping his shoulder into the other man's with a huff of pleased laughter.]

Always toldja you'd find yourself a dame. Sounds like a hell of a woman, too. Bet you knock them all of their feet, now.

[ex_serum683]

She is, ❰ steve says, earnest, careful to make it present tense and not past. no amount of deliberate phrasing can keep the words from coming out like he's been gutted, though, can't keep his eyes from going distant and sad. peggy was amazing — is amazing — but she was never going to be his. even during the war, when steve had been able to imagine some kind of future for himself, peggy was only a nebulous part of it. he knew he wanted her there, hoped she'd want to be with him too, but how they would get there... it was always vague. like some part of him always knew he was never going to get it.

except if that were the case, he wouldn't have been able to imagine a future with bucky as clearly as he always did. two houses, side by side, white picket fences and wives as close to each other as steve and bucky. parallel lives, from womb to tomb.

well, they'd gotten the parallels, hadn't they? just not the way steve would have ever wanted. ❱

Had a Private lay one on me. ❰ better to focus on the funny story than let bucky see anything before steve's ready to explain it. ❱ She didn't let me get a word in, just called me a hero and, uh. "Thanked me", for the women of America. Peggy saw, she was sore about it for days.

[commando]

[Bucky doesn't really catch it, that difference, but he does catch the way that Steve talks about her, the way that his voice goes sad and forlorn, but all he can do is conclude that Peggy must've broken his heart. And that makes his lips thin, his eyes sharpen a little. Steve doesn't volunteer that fact, so he doesn't push it, just lets his shoulder rest against the blonde in a slight sort of comfort. Steve's such a good man he can't imagine it being his fault.

Or well, not until he tells that story, and Bucky can't help laughing, a shake of his head. His lips curl into something like mischief, a lift of an eyebrow.]

I see. Steve Rogers, getting into trouble with the dames. You've always been a troublemaker.

[He's teasing him now, because it's easier. He likes hearing about what Steve's been through, knowing what's happened, but at the same time, there's a certain sort of pang to it. Not having been there, at his side. Of course, he'd been drafted, so it wasn't like he'd had much choice in the matter, no matter what he told Steve. He hadn't wanted him to worry, and also... how do you tell someone as brave as Steve that you weren't? It would have been one thing if he could have stayed. But being drafted... well, it had been easier this way.]

So we win? The war? And you...

[He sort of trails off there, his face shifting from playful to helpless earnest, intense. That slight tilt of his head as he looks up at Steve with those blue eyes. Bucky just wants to know that it ends okay. Which it doesn't, of course, but he doesn't know that. Steve had talked about the Liberation, and it sounds like the sort of thing he gets to come home from, some furlough where they get put up in the Ritz, mopping up the last of it and then coming back to Brooklyn.

But there's something about all of this that just feels a little off, like there's a piece he's missing. Not asking the right questions.]

...You get to come home?

[ex_serum683]

❰ bucky leans in, teasing and laughing, and steve presses their shoulders together tight. he's almost smiling himself when bucky pulls the rug out from him, asks the inevitable question that steve never wants to have to answer. his stomach bottoms out, leaves him feeling hollow, and he knows he's taking too long to answer but he can't get his throat to work. ❱

Yeah, Buck, we win, ❰ he says eventually, eyes down. he hasn't looked up at bucky in long moments, eyes trained on the floor in front of them.

it wouldn't be a lie to say he survives the war. he couldn't say he comes home, not really, home is seventy years away by the time he winds up back in new york, but he survives. that'd be enough for bucky, right?

thank god bucky hasn't asked about himself. thank god steve doesn't have to choose between the lie of a terrible death and the horror of staying alive. ❱

[commando]

[That answer is something, but it's not the important part, not the one that matters. The thing that he needs to know is what happens after, and Bucky isn't dumb, can read that there's something here, something big. Steve wont look at him, and he's letting that question trail unanswered for far too long.

He can think of a dozen different answers, but he doesn't like any of them, and isn't sure which one is actually the problem. So he sighs, letting his head tilt into the other man's shoulder, letting Steve have a moment more if he needed it, but they both knew that he was going to ask.

Part of him wants to make a joke, about Steve meeting some dame and getting married in France, but they both knew that Bucky would have followed him, stayed-- Aw, Hell. And that's the first time that he starts to feel it. That sense like stepping over your own grave, the inkling that he doesn't make it to the end of Steve's story. But throwing that at him when he's already so openly distraught seems cruel, so he just sits with it for now.

Instead he sighs, reaching out to catch one of Steve's hands with his own. Not quite handholding, but touching, reassurance. He's here. He's still here.]

C'mon, Stevie. You can tell me what happened.

[He smiles at him, trying to meet his eyes, to be something that he can lean on. But it's like that smile from the alleyway when he was shipping out; something he plays up a little, does for his friend because he wants things to be okay. Even when they aren't. When they can't be.]

[ex_serum683]

❰ bucky takes his hand, and steve looks down at the place where their skin touches. bucky's hand is dry, familiar, worn from work but soft with youth. bloodless. he hasn't killed anyone with these hands yet, not nazis or hydra or hydra's enemies.

he doesn't even know what hydra is.

the gulf of lost experiences yawns between them, wide and unfathomable, unfordable. steve has killed. steve has killed so many, needfully, to protect others — but there are some things you can't explain, which can only be experienced, and bucky hasn't had any of the experiences steve's had. seventy years stretches between them, vast and quiet and damning.

shared life experience echoes in his head, natasha's voice mocking him.

steve's jaw ticks, his eyes shuttered, as he processes his thoughts, before he takes a breath. ❱

I moved to DC, ❰ he says, rather than explicitly answer bucky's implicit question. he'll get there, he will, he'll find the words. just let him live one more moment with this bucky, bloodless and young and happy. ❱ I tried to stay in New York, but after everything... I needed somewhere new.