apocalypsehowcomm | Log: Early days of May

Entry tags:

Log: Early days of May

Who: Steve Rogers and OTA
When: First half of May
Where: Prompts include Dogtown (Rivertouched), a random bar/the streets of Gloucester, and the train,. You can also catch him at ADI or in his apartment/around the ADI housing building, or hit me up if you have other ideas!
Summary: Steve has been here for a month and still feels like he's a little adrift. He doesn't like it. He takes the mission in Dogtown, then "investigates" some local haunts (i.e., bars) to try to relax, and boards the train with the rest of his colleagues for whatever lies ahead.
Warnings: supernatural compulsion, hallucination, suicidal ideation and drowning (past and potentially present) drinking/drunkenness, nyctophobia, burns/dead bodies

It's better than the Arctic
His conversation with Yelena shortly after arriving had piqued Steve's interest in Dogtown, so when the opportunity arises to check it out for himself, he takes it. Sure, he's got the ADI-issued GPS in his pocket, but he sure as hell doesn't plan on using it. (Maybe he'll change his mind. We'll see.)

All he's got to record with is his phone and he knows how to use it, but frankly he's more interested in simply finding out what's up with this place than actually documenting anything or earning any reward. He won't outright abandon his partner, of course, but they must have taken different paths back at the fork, because now he's standing at the edge of a river that he doesn't… think was on the map he'd looked up, but hadn't Yelena said something about maps being unreliable? He's much less interested in the why and much more interested in crouching down and running his hand through the water. It's warm. Nothing at all like the icy Arctic waters that had closed in over his head. That had been terrifying. He'd felt so desperate. This doesn't feel like that at all — and of course, why would it? It's just a river.

A pretty inviting river. And he's tired. He's tired, because he's stuck here, in a place where Tony is alive and where Bucky doesn't want to be Bucky, where the people he knows are different and he feels out of step, like he's been given a second chance but he's still out of sync with it. He still feels very alone. But that's how it's supposed to be, right? He always ends up alone.

At least this time, the water's warm, he thinks, as he leans closer, and closer. It's really so inviting. He could just… slip in. Then he wouldn't have to think about apocalypses or infinity stones or Natasha or Tony or…

I need a goddamn drink
After Dogtown, Steve does something… well. It's not stupid, really. It's normal to want a drink right? And hey, drinks even work on him these days, supposedly. So he's just going to test it. For science.

And maybe to forget that awful river. And the Arctic. And - everything. Just a little. Just bury it under a buzz. Just for a little while.

He finds a bar — something the locals seem to favor, something casual and laid-back and where his limited budget (and palate) is well suited. He orders a couple drinks. And then he orders a few more.

When he finally steps out the door, headed for home, it's late and he's definitely the floaty kind of buzzed. Not falling-down drunk — apparently his big-but-not-enhanced physique can hold its liquor like a true Irishman — but he feels… good. Ish. Better? Kind of. Good enough that it takes him a while to actually make his way back, to the ADI housing, to get up the stairs, to fumble with his keys outside his door. He's still a respectful roommate, somehow, beelining for his room and maybe only hits his shin once or twice if the apartment is dark. The cursing will be quiet.

Time for a train ride
Steve shows up at the station as requested, bag slung over his shoulder. When they get on board, he takes a seat by the window and plunks the bag down by his feet (it makes an odd, heavy, almost metallic sound when he does). He mostly spends the trip alternately watching the landscape go by and checking on Winter, sometimes getting snacks from the dining car for one or both of them. Anyone seated near him might get offered a bite or two, if they look interested.

While he doesn't manage to get caught between the cars, he's definitely by the window when they go through the tunnel. When the tapping starts, he tries to get closer, not back away (like a reasonable person). Still, he can't make anything out by the time the lights flicker back on.

His seat means he also sees the burned bodies; he doesn't know what to think about that, but anyone sitting next to him will get a nudge as he asks, "Do you see that?" Of course, when you look… there's nothing to see. And when he looks back, it's gone.

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[The why is because drowning is awful and Steve very nearly did it again. And it scares him, and he should've known better because people have tried to warn him, and so he feels small and stupid and a little out of his depth, and a lot like life enjoys pitching him curveballs.

And he is not inclined to say... any of that.

Instead, what Tony gets is,] Had a bad day. This's what you do after bad days, isn't it?

[It is, sadly, possibly the healthiest thing Steve has done after a bad day in a long time... which says a lot, probably. Given.]

It is what I do. [ Tony agrees without missing a beat. ] It could be argued that it’s what most people do, actually, in varying degrees.

But it’s not really what you do. [ He punctuates the ‘you’ by prodding Steve in the center of the chest with one finger, extra obnoxiously. ]

Correction, [Steve points out, waving his latest glass to make his point.] It's what I did.

[He does, on occasion, get very unhappy with the idea that he is... not a regular guy. Or that he never was.

(Okay, he never was. But he was more regular than a super soldier, for most of his life. Or - half of it, at least.)] This stuff used to work on me. Then it stopped. Now it started again.

B'sides, [he mumbles, almost more to the glass than to Tony,] I think I'm not supposed to get into fights? I'm not - sure.

[Because that's the other impulse: Get drunk and/or get into fights. But ADI had said something about not fighting. It feeds the Slaughter, if he does it wrong. And that's bad.]

Yeah, recreational fighting is usually frowned upon in most civilized societies. Good job.

[ Steve is sounding so un-Steve-like right now and Tony's worry grows, even if his traditional snark doesn't show it. He thinks he should probably steer the guy away from imbibing any more, if he's seriously so blitzed that he's forgetting basic social protocol. ]

How about we call it quits, big guy? I think you've done enough damage for one night.

Is it? I was gonna - do ultimate fighting. Sam said.

[Yeah, that probably doesn't make any sense out of context. Sorry, Tony.

But also, getting into fights is definitely a baseline Steve Rogers classic.

He frowns over at Tony when he suggests calling it quits, like he's not quite processing the request - or why it's being made.] But I still remember. Earlier.

[ Exactly. It makes no fucking sense, which is why Tony feels even more confident now in his decision that Steve has had Enough. He flags down the bartender, fingers drumming anxiously on the surface of the bar. ]

Hey, Big Shoots. Put his stuff on my tab and close it out, will you? [ After a lifetime of doing so Tony kind of pays for things on instinct; it doesn't seem to occur to him that he may not actually be able to afford this. Oops. As the bartender rings them up Tony regards Steve again, brow furrowing at his latest, seemingly nonsensical statement. ]

Remember what now? Gonna have to be a bit more specific there, Blondie.

[Well, if it makes you feel any better(?), Steve is also used to Tony paying for things and doesn't try to fight him on it right now.

He will pay you back later, buddy.

He makes a face at the question, though, features screwing up.] Dogtown. There was a - a river. It wanted me.

[And he had kind of wanted it. At the time. He knows that feeling. He really does. Maybe it's the fact that it was not unfamiliar that had driven him here in the first place.]

You been to Dogtown?

[ Tony is going to need a ventilator soon with how much sighing he's doing this evening. It isn't so much directed at the actual content of Steve's explanation (a 'river that wants people' is probably the least batshit thing Tony has heard of or encountered in this place) so much as his roundabout way of approaching it, but he'll play along regardless. ]

Dogtown? Can't say I've made a point of visiting it, no. For lack of transportation and lack of...interest.

[ He trails off that last word as the bartender returns with the tab, which he quickly pays before turning to Steve and then just. Stopping dead with a frown. ]

You can walk right? I may be making mad gains at the gym lately but I still absolutely cannot support your weight. [ The 'mad gains' is said with mad irony, by the way. It's been slow going but at least Tony isn't a walking skeleton anymore. ]

[Steve looks... belligerent.] Of course I can walk.

[He proceeds to demonstrate this by standing up a little too fast from the stool and grabbing onto the counter for balance, then frowning down at it like it's personally wronged him. Don't say anything, Tony. Don't say anything.

Fortunately, Steve isn't wrong. After regaining his balance, he slides his hands off the bar. And stays upright. And takes a step toward Tony. He's gonna be a little slow. Maybe grab a few chair backs on the way out of the bar. But he's got this. He'll sober up a little as they go, too. Yay, Irish genes.] Where're we going?

[Like there are a whole lot of options, here.]

[ Steve. It's Tony. Of course he's going to say something. At least he doesn't laugh out loud at Steve's fumbling; it's been hard to find cause for genuine mirth these days. He does venture a smirk, though it ends up looking far more fond than he intends it to. ]

You'd better thank the Stars and Stripes we're someplace no one recognizes you, or this would be going straight to Tiktok.

[ He moves close to Steve and walks alongside if spotting him, even though he's far more likely to be bowled over than to actually do any catching in the event that Steve does end up falling. It's the thought that counts, okay? ]

It's your call, Soldier. I'd suggest going home and sobering up, but I've never been one to put anyone out.

[Steve doesn't say anything about the smirk, at least, probably because he's working on walking in a straight(ish) line to the door. You know, everything would've been easier if he could've just, you know, stayed on that stool and kept drinking.]

Tiktok is dumb, [he mutters, and then adds,] People recognizing me is dumb. [Because it is. He's never liked it - with a brief exception from when he just hadn't known better.

They make it out the door and he pauses, hesitating.] I have roommates, [he says, like that might be a problem. It... might? Probably not. He can keep quiet.

Of course, the reduced filter between brain and mouth is why he apparently feels the need to tell Tony next,] They're dating. Each other.

[ Tony certainly won't argue those first two points, so he just lets them drop with the finality with which they were intended. He continues to hover around Steve until they make it outside, then watches carefully as he awaits his next move. At the mention of Steve's roommates, Tony scrunches his nose. ]

Well that's awkward. My condolences. We'd better avoid your place then, in case they're bumping uglies or whatnot.

[ Pauuuuse. Tony shuffles his feet about anxiously, avoiding Steve's eyes, and clears his throat before speaking in an offhand sort of way. ]

Decent-sized couch at mine. And I'm reasonably certain my own roommates won't be making the beast with two backs, considering one's laid up and the other's a robot.

[ Another pause. ] Again, your call. [ Why is this so hard. ]

[Jesus, Stark, can't you just say having sex like a normal person?

Okay, no. No, you can't, and Steve knows that.]

They've been... discreet, [he manages, and the pause is less to try to find the best word and more to find any word at all in his muddled, muddy brain.] Or maybe I just can't hear.

[Either way, it is kind of a relief. But he's also generally not out late, so he does sort of wonder if they might have seen this as an opportunity...]

Are your roommates gonna care?

[Also] I might knock something over. [He looks at his hands like they're foreign, but even he knows he's probably going to be like a bull in a china shop in there. It was... full of stuff, he remembers.]

[ Exactly, Steve. Tony is incapable of talking like a normal person. He's also incapable of not talking, which is something else Steve knows very well. ]

It's fine, I Jaeger-proofed the place a little while ago. [ Oh right, Steve might not know his roommates' names by heart yet. Which is fair. They're weird names. ] Meaning it's a little less hazardous for Charles Atlas types like you two. Are you done complaining now? I'd like to get a move on before things start going bump in the night.

[ In all fairness things go bump in the night even during the day around here, but it's harder to see them at night. Good enough reason to get moving. That, and...]

Not that I don't think you could protect me with those big beefy arms of yours even without your super-serum-iness, but you're drunk. I have no experience with Drunk Steve. Heck, I thought I'd never experience Drunk Steve at all til now.

[ He's leading the way toward the apartments now, keeping an eye out while he talks, talks, talks. A Tony specialty. ] Though I must admit I thought it would be way more fun than this, you being drunk. When I did think about it, I mean. Which I did sometimes. Because it's funny.

[Steve... has heard that name before. He thinks. Maybe? Regardless, he's not thinking entirely straight right now, so the clarification helps.

So, instead, he points out that,] I'm not complaining. I'm drunk. I think. Huh.

[Like he's just finally noticed this state of affairs for himself.

Still, he's following Tony, trying to keep an eye out, too. He's... going to be better at wildly swinging at anything they encounter. He won't be the one to see it first. Definitely not while he has to listen to and make sense of Tony at the same time.]

What did you think it'd be like? [he asks, almost sullenly.] This isn't fun for you?

Well, when I was imagining it we weren't stuck in a haunted town in the middle of an apocalyptic battle, for one. We were at home in the middle of an apocalyptic battle. Big difference there.

[ Is Steve pouting? Tony can hear him pouting. ]

And I didn't think you'd be all Captain Crankypants, either. It absolutely kills the vibe, y'know. So you gonna tell me about that river in Dogtown already or what?

[ Translation: I care about you and you were clearly drinking for Sad Reasons, so I'm worried. Tell me what's wrong already so I can help you. ]

Big difference, [Steve agrees. Actually, it is - you are absolutely right about that one, Stark.

Although now it's Steve's turn to pout.] I told you, right? There was a river and it wanted me.

So I went in. It was... bad.

[Except it had seemed nice at the time. Maybe that's the worst part.]

I'm fucking done with rivers. And oceans. No more water.

[That may or may not be enough to make the little "Hey, Steve has drowned or nearly drowned at least twice before" light bulb go off in Tony's head. Granted, he wasn't there for either time.]

[ No, Tony got that right away. He's something of a Trauma Expert at this point, after all. Heck, Tony even has his own trepidations about water; he'd been utterly unable to tolerate being submerged in it for months after Afghanistan. He totally understands Steve's aversion. ]

Yeah, got that part, Sunshine. It's the 'wanting you' bit that's throwing me off. I mean, any sentient being and I'd totally get it, but bodies of water typically aren't...that.

[ Is it a little more fun to flirt with Steve when he's drunk? Maybe. Also, you have no idea the sort of internal battle he's waging against the urge to make puns about 'thirsting' right now. Or 'cruising'. This is semi-serious business here. ]

I know, [Steve says, waving one arm a bit. It's overdramatic, sure, but at least it doesn't topple anyone over.] That's why it sucked. It... was sentient. Or conscious. I don't know. Something? It made me want to get in. Something did. I wanted it.

[And that's terrifying, Tony. It's terrifying, to be coerced. How do you fight that?]

[ Mmhm, yeah. Tony knows a thing or two about being coerced. This sounds like a very unpleasant situation indeed, so he slows down his walk (a little bit; he's still got way shorter legs than Steve), his tone adjusting to something a little softer and more cautious when he speaks. ]

And how'd it do that?

[ He asks the question in a simple and nonjudgmental way, just guiding Steve along. ]

I don't know.

[More arm-waving - actually, his hand clips the nearest building and,] Ow. Fuck.

[Normally, that'd hurt the brick a lot more than it would hurt him.

He frowns back at Tony. A nonjudgemental Tony is almost weirder than a judgemental one.] How does anything work around here? It just... seemed like a nice place. Somewhere I wanted to be. I don't know why. I was just - tired.

I was tired, [he repeats, more softly. He doesn't sound like he just means physically.] It made me remember that.

[It had gotten in his head and made him think about how things were actually not that great here in a lot of respects. How things have not been great for a long time. How just... stopping would be so nice.]

Easy. [ Tony yanks Steve a little ways away from the wall, a motion he’s able to pull off thanks the other man’s current wobbliness. ] Can you do your best to not seriously injure yourself within the next five minutes? We’re almost home.

[ Tony? Judgmental? Come on Steve, give him a little more credit than that. This is your mental health we’re dealing with here, not a ridiculously outdated pair of chinos you’re wearing. And what Steve admits next is particularly concerning, though Tony does his best to play it cool. ]

Right, well, when we’re tired we lie down. Like you’re about to do, on my couch, on your side so you don’t do a Hendrix on me. We don’t contemplate drowning ourselves no matter how fine the water is.

[ Tony keeps his hand on Steve’s arm as they near the apartments, as if there’s a river running alongside them that Steve is threatening to cannonball into right the fuck now.

And yes, Tony knows that Steve doesn’t just mean physically. He’d insist that Steve crash on his couch as opposed to going home even without the possibility of boinking roommates. ]

[Steve does indeed weave in the direction of Tony's tugging, still frowning at his own hand for a moment.

Then he frowns over at Tony.] I'm not supposed to lie down. Not ever.

[His voice is quiet. Contemplative, suddenly. Almost... worried?

He also leans against Tony's guiding touch, though, and doesn't try to wave his arms anymore or veer off course.

Of course, his filter is still a bit gone, so he finally has to open his mouth and comment on the last part:] I wasn't contemplating drowning. The first time. In the plane.

It's just what happened.

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Log: Early days of May

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cw: very very vague suicidal ideation

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