Fear Upon Fear [Log]

[worthallthis]

Who: Winter (Bucky Barnes) and OPEN
When: May catch-all
Where: Medical, the ADI apartments, the library, and the train
Summary: A modified daily routine, book fair, and then the awfulness of a train
Warnings: Continued struggles with personalization, PTSD, medical phobias, catatonia


I. Anti-Medical

After the assault on the circus, Winter spends all of one day in ADI's medical wing, and he spends it alternately flinching and huddling as far from any person as he can get, or completely unresponsive, staring blankly at a wall and letting the doctor poke worriedly at him and his burned leg.

Then in the middle of the night, he flees. Find him outside the the ADI apartment complex at dawn, huddled miserably on the lawn against the bars while waiting for the gates to open.

After that, he spends a few days recovering in his apartment and limping restlessly around the buildings even if moving around is clearly a bad idea, or sitting in whatever common room has the best light, trying to do repairs on his damaged left arm. It creaks and thunks rather than whirring like usual whenever he moves it, and the plates, though cleaned, still show scorch marks.


II. (Not) Well Read

Winter is the opposite of well-read. He has read exactly one book since stumbling into freedom from HYDRA, and he didn't even finish it. So he isn't even particularly interested in the book fair. It's only when people at ADI mention something off about the "quizzes" that he thinks he ought to at least drop by.

He looks distinctly out of place, even uncomfortable, in the library. Something about all the shelves, all the tables, the over-abundance of things to look at and choose, makes him feel off-balance and nervous. It's bad enough that being told he already has a library card elicits growls that make the librarians quail a little. "I have never been in this building before," he hisses at her. "I have never read a book."

Someone might want to distract him.

He doesn't even touch the computers with the quizzes on them, though he does eye them warily, and maybe hovers a little whenever someone he knows is using one. He doesn't trust anything about this. Honestly, he's gotten to the point where he doesn't trust much of anything.


III. Training Wheels Not On

He's not entirely recovered yet, and his arm is still maybe a little glitchy-- not a lot, just a little, and it looks repaired, anyway-- so Winter signs on for the away mission. All of his people are going, anyway, so of course he has to go and protect them. Besides, he doesn't need a working leg to shoot people. There's a rifle with a good scope in his bag, after all.

He makes it all the way onto the platform, but then he's confronted with... a train. The shape of it, the sound the engines make, the steam of it-- he freezes. He can't make himself move closer. Anyone looking close will even note him shaking a little as he stares at it.

And he has no idea why. Which actually makes it worse.


IV. Training Wheels In

Winter makes it on the train. Somehow. Maybe someone coaxes him, maybe someone drags him, maybe he just disassociates right out of his head and follows someone blindly. But now he's on this train, and it is not better. The motion of it makes him feel sick. The sound of it. The smell of it. Looking out the window is impossible. Moving from car to car isn't happening at all.

He spends most of the trip huddled in one of the sleeping cars, sitting on the bed with his arms wrapped tightly around his knees, wedged into the corner it makes with the wall so the motion doesn't rock him more than necessary. He sleeps when he passes out (which isn't often). He eats when people bring him things. He does occasional washcloth baths because he can't bring himself to use the on-car shower, so the stink of fear clings to him most of the time. He picks compulsively at the remaining bandage on his leg or at the plates in his arm or at his hair.

He does better with company. Please keep him company. He leaves the door halfway open at all times, even when he's asleep, in the hopes people won't leave him alone. But he can't quite bring himself to get up and seek people out, either.

Comments

let's start with III!

[punched_hitler]

Steve had tried to check on Winter before leaving for the station, maybe walk over together, but his apartment had already been empty, so there was nothing for it but to get himself over here. He's got his own bag slung over one shoulder as he approaches the platform and spots the unmistakable figure in the small crowd.

Steve's already picking up the pace to catch him when he realizes Winter isn't actually moving. And he doesn't seem like he's waiting, either, or he wouldn't have his back to the people arriving and his attention... on the train.

No, he's not waiting. He's not doing anything else, either. He's standing stock still, almost like a statue. (At least, Steve can't see the shaking from back here.)

He pounds up to Winter, slowing to a stop next to him and (possibly thankfully) aborting an instinctual motion to put a hand on his shoulder at the last second, grabbing awkwardly at the strap of his own bag again instead. "Winter?" he says, still catching his breath a bit. (He's still used to sprints costing him far less. Jesus, he feels spoiled.) "Hey, pal."

[worthallthis]

Winter isn't so caught up in his own head that he doesn't hear Steve coming. That's a bit of a blessing, it means he doesn't shy violently aside, he just twitches a little, then shudders once all over.

"I don't want to," he says, voice weak, just a thread of sound that Steve might not even hear clearly. "I don't want to and I don't know why."

[punched_hitler]

Steve just barely hears; it doesn't matter that the words are soft and strained, they still feel like a solid punch to the gut. Frankly, it's a wonder he doesn't stumble.

"Oh," is all that comes out for a moment, as he stares at the train - glares at the train, really. But a guy can only spend so long catching his breath before he has to say something of substance.

"I could tell you," he says, and now it feels like someone's got a knife in his gut instead, and they're twisting it. "There is a reason." It's not a hallucination or a compulsion, is what he means. Winter's in his right mind, and somehow, that's worse. "Or - if you don't want to know. We could just try to get you on."

iv!

[lowficharm]

Martin's using his nervous energy on this train by going between cars, pacing and generally just finding things to distract himself. He's really not used to travel this long, and the last time it happened he was in... well, a rather bad state he'd like to forget. So as he's drifting, it's not hard to run into Winter, or rather find him huddled like a cat in a dark corner.

To be fair, Martin probably shouldn't approach him with that in mind, and yet here he is. "Uhm... Winter? Is that you?" Yes, he's leaning down towards the bunk and maybe holding out his hand a little. "Are you okay?"

[worthallthis]

"Don't touch me," Winter's voice rasps, a warning, but without much heat. He shrinks a little further into his corner.

But if he leaves it sat that, Martin might leave. He doesn't want Martin to leave. That'd mean he'd be alone. "I hate trains," is the explanation that comes out.

[lowficharm]

He immediately flinches back, but doesn't run. Instead, he just keeps his hands very to himself, standing there and trying to make himself as small as possible-- which doesn't really work when you're a big and tall man in a train car.

"Oh, I-- I'm sorry, I didn't know." There's a pause, and then-- "Sorry about the situation, uhm, that is. And... yeah."

Thankfully for Winter, Martin is never one to let silences sit for too long. "So, uh... do you want to be by yourself? I don't mind keeping you company for a bit, but uh, o-only if you want."

IV

[failedpromise]

Trains are new to Cortana as well, but she's not particularly frightened by them. More intrigued than anything, actually.

She also doesn't need to sleep, so it takes her a while to even enter the sleeping cars, much less find her friend there all huddled up and alone.

"Winter?" He's seen her human form before at ladies night but it might still be a little jarring: same face and same eyes, but with pale peach toned skin and no glow. Her expression is one of concern.

[worthallthis]

He hasn't forgotten. And her voice is the same. He doesn't move, but his eyes do flick up to her face, then away, to one side of her. His face is half-hidden by his knees, curled in on himself with his back against the wall and feet-- still in their boots-- up on the bed.

"Cortana," he rasps back.

[failedpromise]

After a moment of consideration, she sits down next to him.

"I'm guessing it's not motion sickness that's got you hiding back here."

IV

[10billionpercent]

He hadn't had the opportunity to meet everyone who worked at ADI yet, and he certainly hadn't met Winter.

It wasn't that he was seeking out company himself, although that was part of it, but also the other man looked unsettled. He wasn't much for understanding exactly what he was feeling at the moment, but his body language was so blatant that even walking by Senku could pick up on it.

So he paused in the doorway. "...You alright?"

[worthallthis]

Winter peeks up over the top of his knees. New person. He's seen him around, but never actually been introduced.

The socially correct answer here is yes, he's fine, it's nothing. Winter is not good at the socially correct thing. "No," he says. "But there's nothing anyone can. Really do about it. So."

[10billionpercent]

That would definitely be the socially acceptable answer and perhaps the one he was quietly hoping for because he was not good at comforting people.

"What's wrong?" He asked, instead of just walking away, even Senku knew walking away would be rude even if he was out on an unsteady limb.

II

[musicdied]

Yelena has learned over the past several months to read Winter's body language fairly well, even when it's muted. This is not muted, and the librarian's obvious unease is even less so. She hurried over - as much as she can, with the tug and sting of still-healing burns warning her with each step that her range of motion is not what it should be - schooling her expression into one of embarrassed apology.

"I'm sorry," she says, words scrubbed clean of her usual accent and molded into the speech patterns of the girl from Ohio she might have been had her life taken a very different turn. "Pam set them up for everyone on campus, just to make things easier. There was supposed to be an email, but the distribution lists are still messed up - you know how IT is."

She gives the librarian a fleeting, sympathetic smile. "Sounds like you might be having some trouble too. Duplicate records are such a pain, right?"

[worthallthis]

The distraction is effective, even if it mostly serves to transfer his glare onto Yelena, briefly. He's sure she's lying. But she's lying for a reason, and he isn't ever going to actually be angry at Yelena, of all people.

So he stands down, reluctantly, shoulders up around his ears and expression smoothing out into something at least nominally polite. "Because I didn't read those books," he mutters. "It's more of the. Fear stuff." He's sure it is. Everything that turns up that's weird like this is.

[musicdied]

That's fine. Yelena is far more equipped to handle Winter's glares than the poor librarian, who doesn't so much perk up when that intensity is transferred away from her as...unwilt. Just a little.

She's more than happy to offer agreement - yes, it must have been a system glitch, a few people had mentioned discrepancies in their loan lists, she'll have someone look into it.

"Thank you," Yelena says. "I'm sure someone will be able to sort it out."

She isn't, even a little bit, because while the faint ringing in her ears drowns out Winter's mutter, she's come to a similar conclusion. Someone is fucking with them, and the more people distressed by it, the more that person will get from their games.

She turns a cheerful smile to Winter, and suggests, "If you're not going to borrow anything, you can help me carry my books."

IV

[bossyboiler]

Kate is one of the people who won't leave Winter alone. Why would she? He's one of her dearest friends. She doesn't like seeing him in distress and clearly he is in distress. However, she can't be with him all of the time. There are other tasks that call her attention but she does her best to check in on him at every given opportunity.

Right now the opportunity is food. "Lunch time," Kate says as she enters his cart carrying two brown paper bags. She has them a turkey club sandwich, chips, two bottles of pop, and because she knows that Winter likes his sweets there are cookies too. "Come on."

She won't take no for an answer.

[worthallthis]

He's been eating. Mostly. When people bring him food and wait patiently for him to make use of it.

He uncurls enough to slide his boots off the mattress and to the floor, though a tremor runs through him as he does and he keeps the metal hand locked tight on the edge of the bed, as if afraid he might fall off of it with the motion of the train. He feels creaky, his joints aching, more than just from the lingering pain of his burns.

"I'm not as good at holding one position anymore," he says, mostly to himself. Maybe it was a powers thing, not just a training thing, being able to hold still for so long... well, crap.

I.

[welladjustedwhitly]

Sometimes, insomnia reigns, and it isn't saved only for her brother. Sometimes, Ainsley wanders. She finds herself outside the ADI apartments for something of a late-night stroll. She can't leave, exactly, but she can wander the immediate property. She just doesn't expect to find anyone else outside at this, frankly, ridiculous hour.

"Hey," she calls out cautiously to the man crouched next to the front gates. "are you okay?" Not that she could do much to help if he had any kind of extensive injury or anything, but it seemed like the best opening line, at any rate.

[worthallthis]

He looks up at the voice, shivering and generally miserable, but stuck for now. It takes him a minute to actually crane his head around so he can see her. "I'm waiting for curfew to lift," he says, and he sounds about as wretched as he feels.

Ugh. He's losing control of his own expression or lack there of. That's maybe a problem.

[welladjustedwhitly]

"You look like you're freezing," she points out blatantly. "Why don't you wait for curfew somewhere a little more forgiving?" She mostly just means inside rather than anywhere specific.

There's something... she can't quite place about him that strikes her in a very specific way. A little bit like a wild animal, maybe? She isn't sure. "I'm Ainsley," she offers in introduction.

II

[abrightboy]

Malcolm is well read, but he hasn't come to the library to check out a book. His sister told him about the weird lists everyone has, whether they've been there or not. Maybe it's a clue about... something he maybe only vaguely cares about.

Then he spots Winter.

"Hey! Are you here investigating the reading list too?"

[worthallthis]

"The computer quizzes," Winter says, looking over in Malcolm's direction as he approaches. "Actually. Though the reading list is wrong. It says I've read books." Which he has not, in fact, done.

[abrightboy]

"Computer quizzes?" Malcolm questions, glancing towards the computers. Though the next revelation has him looking back at Winter. "What books does it say you read?"

IV

[musicdied]

Yelena doesn't stay with him the whole time. She can't stay with him the whole time, and it's more than just the fact that there is a sudden need to monitor the passage between cars so no one can do themselves harm in the throes of hallucination. But she visits frequently, bringing him food or water or just the distraction of a familiar presence.

It's water this time, and she crouches down by the bed he's claimed to offer the bottle to him. "I would steal some vodka to bring you," she says. "But I'm not sure if unconscious would actually be better."

[worthallthis]

"I don't want to be drunk," Winter says, voice rough but not uncertain. He's already figured on that much; even if it would take the edge off, he can't imagine letting himself take an edge off. If there was an emergency, he could function. Probably. Since there is no emergency, he apparently has license to go to pieces.

He adds, "Because I think I can be that now. Drunk. Without my healing, I think drugs will work on me." But he definitely takes the water, though he kind of just stares at it in his hands for a moment first.