A Return and Regret [LOG/OTA]

[worthallthis]

Who: Winter (Bucky Barnes) and OPEN
When: Late June/early July
Where: On the road, buzzing around ADI, moping around town, and the beach
Summary: July catch-all
Warnings: Paranoia, grief, grumpiness


I. Road Trip!

Somebody (Yelena) has the bright idea to not subject Winter to a fucking train again, and they get a car. Probably rented. Possibly stolen. ... probably rented. Winter hardly uses the money he gets from ADI, he's got plenty to spare for the means to avoid going catatonic on a fucking train for two days.

So he, Yelena, Kate, and Steve all bundle into an economical sedan and take the long way back to Gloucester. They trade off driving (except for Steve, whose hands are damaged) and stay in cheap motels and eat roadside junk food and play a variety of music and stupid travel games.

It is possibly the best four days of Winter's remembered life. He's actually kind of smiling by the end of it.


II. Missing Friends

People Winter knows have gone missing before. It's impossible not to have lost people when you work for ADI and your friends consist pretty much entirely of people who get into dangerous situations weekly. Winter has not actually lost a good friend before.

He shows up at Meredith's old desk with an extra coffee and an extra donut and finds it empty. He searches the building, and can't find her. He goes back to the ADI housing and checks her apartment. He makes the rounds, looking in every place Meredith usually goes. He asks people, "How long has she been gone?" and "Where was the last place you saw her?"

And he looks morose when he doesn't get any helpful answers. Meredith is just gone.


III. Winter the Grouch (Birdwatching + Routine)

Though Winter gets back into his usual routine, he's kind of a grump about it. Meredith is gone. Things are about as awful at ADI as they always are. He aches all the time, which is normal, but lately it feels like it's getting worse. (Really, it is getting worse, because while he exercises kind of obsessively and is a fan of long baths to soak in, he doesn't really take care of himself in any other ways.)

He settles back into his usual routine: patrols with ADI during the day, teaching self-defense after work in the ADI gym or practicing alone if no student shows up, twice weekly forays into town for 1) lunch in a cafe, most likely with a friend, and 2) a prowl around Dogtown, though this time it's only around the outskirts, given the fencing.

He stares hard at the silent birds as he circles. Winter is naturally hypervigilant as it is, veering into paranoia at the worst of times, but it's not helping to have the feeling that all the birds are watching you even walking back to the apartments. It's bad enough that a flock of pigeons taking flight startles him into pulling his ever-present handgun and glowering at them over the sights as they fly away. "Fuck," he mutters, and hopes nobody saw that.

But of course somebody saw that.


IV. Not a Beach Bum

Though Winter goes to the beach thing, he resolutely does not have fun. He stays wrapped up in two layers of shirt (though the jacket gets ditched halfway through the afternoon), heavy jeans, and his combat boots. Someone who would recognize such things might note the shape of a gun holstered in the small of his back and there's certainly knives under his clothes, though those are harder to find.

He prowls around, keeping an eye on people and chasing off birds, and only takes a break from his impromptu patrolling twice: once for a plate full of food (fully one third of it is Kate's brownies), and once to prod at the sandcastle making equipment. Somebody show him how to actually make a sandcastle? Maybe he'll have some fun on accident.

Comments

[failedpromise]

"He did, did he?" She follows Winter's example precisely and doesn't try to push herself beyond it.

"I saw he had them bandaged up at the party. Is he going to be alright?"

Clearly he's alive and functional, but permanent damage to the hands is still a possibility, and could be crippling.

[worthallthis]

"Yeah, he'll be okay. Might have some burn scars though. I'm keeping an eye on him." Because Winter is nearly always keeping an eye on him, if he's not keeping an eye on somebody else.

This is probably plenty of stretching, so he steps back, and holds up his hands. "No fall practice today. Just escaping holds. And I'll go easy on you." That comes out almost teasing. Almost. He's getting better at tone things, honest!

[failedpromise]

"Good." He's probably lucky it wasn't worse.

She finishes her stretches and gets up, doing a mimicry of taking a breath.

"Got it." She nods.

[worthallthis]

Winter turns to face her fully, nods back, and with no more warning than that he grabs her wrist, the one he knows took the least damage. She should know this one, though it's been a while since he's shown it to her.

[failedpromise]

Cortana jolts but catches herself and transitions into the correct movement of attempting to break his hold by rolling her wrist towards his thumb and pulling back once the hold is loosened. It's a split second transition, the sort of thing that might be hard to catch that there was anything wrong at all.

[worthallthis]

He lets her complete the break, but then then steps back immediately. "That shouldn't have hurt. Where did it hurt," he asks, assuming the momentary freeze was from her injuries, not something else.

[failedpromise]

Cortana blinks, startled. Is he really that worried about her? She smiles slightly, softly, despite herself. Silly man.

"It doesn't." It didn't hurt at all actually. "It's just ...I haven't done this in a while." The thing about having perfect memory is that the horror of trauma doesn't fade. The last month or so has been full of physical pain and painful realizations, and it's hard to keep bad experiences from surfacing in her mind.

She shakes her head, attempting to clear it. "Sorry."

[worthallthis]

"Try it a few more times, then," Winter suggests, holding out his hand for her wrist. "Until it feels natural again."

He'll run her through that drill until he detects no sign of hesitation, and she's breaking away from his grip smoothly.

"Face protection next," he warns when she's back up to his standards, and aims a punch for her face. It's slow, and it's heavily pulled, giving her plenty of time to go with one of the two standard avoidance strategies he's taught her: side-step or grab and divert.

[failedpromise]

"Alright. Thanks, Winter." It won't take her long to be breaking out of wrist holds as though she's been doing this her entire life-seems like she really was just a bit rusty.

Or not, but right now it could easily seem like it.

She dodges to the side, no hesitation. Perhaps a bit more speed than is necessary given how slow Winter is moving, but she's seen quite recently what face (and particularly mouth) injuries can do, and she wants none of that.

[worthallthis]

"Good. A couple more of those," he instructs, and he'll keep punching, switching hands up now and then for her to practice either direction.

Then, unexpectedly, he turns the punch into a grab for her hair. It is a thing he's told her about before, and has walked her through twice, but he hasn't made her practice it at-speed with him as the aggressor yet. (He did make her do it to him a few times, to see how it works.)

[failedpromise]

She dodges again and again, falling into an almost sort of rhythm with her movements. Left, then right, then right again. It's almost fun, until he goes for her hair.

The startled yelp she makes is quickly followed by her stiffening then twisting in his grip in a manner totally ineffectual for actually escaping. Almost instinctively, a part of her wants to lash out but she is unable to she can't fightbackcant'getawaycan't-

[worthallthis]

He lets go immediately as soon as he registers the panic and backs several steps away, both hands held up. "Cortana. What did that hurt." Except that didn't seem like a hurt-flail. That seemed like a fear-flail. Why would Cortana be afraid of him? (Aside from, you know, the whole assassin thing. And the Stranger thing. And the bigger-than-her thing. There's a lot of reasons, to his silent dismay.)

[failedpromise]

The moment he lets go she stumbles and then whips around, fist headed for his face-she freezes.

"Winter?"

Her voice, her eyes, there's something distant there. She blinks. She's-she's not being attacked. It's not the Gravemind, as much as she'd love to finally get to punch that bastard. It's Winter, they were practicing... and she just tried to hurt him.

"I'm sorry, I..."

Even if her punch had connected it wouldn't have done much. There's not much weight to hard light and even with training she hasn't built much strength-it'd be foolish to think she could harm him.

...She's trembling.

[worthallthis]

"You didn't hurt me," he says, voice low, if not quite managing gentle, hands still up. "I know how to avoid that kind of attack. Did I hurt you?"

That's his first thought, though he thinks it's less likely than something-- else. He didn't think her scalp was damaged. And that reminds him far too much of his own reactions to being touched without expecting it. To his nightmares. To the moments when memory takes him over.

But he has to ask the physical problem first.

[failedpromise]

"No. I just ...bad memory." She sighs, defeated. Even now, it seems, he still has influence over her actions.

She doesn't look at Winter.

[worthallthis]

Winter nods grimly. "Okay. That happens to me, too," he says. Of course, most of the time for him, it's a new memory-- but not always. "Sit down on the bench. Breathe for a minute until it lets you go the rest of the way."

[failedpromise]

She doesn't breathe she almost tells him, but instead she just nods and sits, clutching her knees.

And then she just ...stares at the floor, thinking about what she knows now: that she never truly escaped High Charity and even long dead the Gravemind is able to hurt not only her but those around her by using her as a tool.

[worthallthis]

Taking a minute to breathe isn't necessarily for breathing, it's just for calming down. Winter comes to join her, sitting next to her on the bench, not touching, but close enough to if it turns out she needs it.

After a long moment of silence, he asks, "Do you want me to avoid holds that involve your hair? Or do you want to try and get used to it?"

[failedpromise]

"I..." she shakes her head. "I need to learn this at some point." She sighs, clenches her hands into fists. Someone, somewhere, is likely to try and grab her hair in a fight and she can't let the anyone get the best of her again.

She's trembling. "I want to be free of this."

[worthallthis]

But this isn't a place where you have to dive right into the worst thing possible. Winter considers this for a minute. What one can do that isn't the worst thing but might help, anyway. "May I try something? It won't hurt. Or it shouldn't."

[failedpromise]

She glances at him, still deeply distressed but also intrigued.

"Okay. Sure." What is he planning?

[worthallthis]

He shifts a little more on the bench to face her, and brings his hand up, slow and clearly telegraphing what he's doing, and sets it on her hair. Then he strokes slowly-- doesn't grab, doesn't pull, just pets her hair gently.

[failedpromise]

She blinks in confusion, then stiffens momentarily, mouth opening slightly in surprise.

He's trying to help her acclimate, she realizes, though she isn't sure if this will actually help: the context is different, she can see what's coming and she knows that Winter isn't going to hurt her. Then again, a new context to associate hair touching with might be just what she needs.

Either way, it's... sweet.

[worthallthis]

He's still for a moment until she relaxes again, then picks up the motion, slow and gentle, watching her reaction. "Won't fix it," he says after a moment. "But it's a start. Like me holding hands. Can't make me hug somebody. It's too close. But I can hold a hand for a while." He held hers, after all.

[failedpromise]

She relaxes completely soon enough-it's Winter, he won't hurt her-and eventually even smiles a little.

"Thanks Winter."

It's nice, she thinks, to be touched by someone who isn't ...hurting her. Even after she gained the capability to make herself solid in her world no one really did. Given that she was insane for much of it, she can't really blame them-she probably would have murdered someone for something as innocent as a hug-but...