bracchium | c o n t a c t

[When he's pulled back, Bucky is filled with a rush of gratitude. He didn't want to go back. Not now, not until the programming starts cooling down again. A hotel room will certainly allow them more privacy than a walk-in liquor cooler. From the distance, feeling his body move and shift pulls at his mind with a gravity of a sinking ship. While it's not impossible to stay rooted with Sam, it does grow more difficult. His feet are under him and Bucky slides more into his mind, despite his efforts to remain in Sam.

He remembers this sensation: his feet and hands held in boiling water. Of course, this sort of conditioning didn't happen as often as others, considering the difficulty of heating water in a pit in Siberia, but the few times it did stick in his mind. Phantom pain sears up his left arm, where fingers should be but no longer exist. ]

[ Sam hesitates when he feels Bucky slip back, when he gets the bleed over from the rush of pain. He stops moving, one arm wrapped tight around Bucky's waist, and he opens their connection wider to beckon Bucky back in.

They could push through it, probably, withstand the pain for long enough to get somewhere they're not likely to be interrupted or kicked out of. But it's not worth it to Sam. Bucky's been through more than enough pain in his life, and if there's something Sam can do to stop it, he'll do it every time. ]

( You okay if I carry you there? )

( 's fine. )

[His words slip through the link clumsily, without the confidence and surety to reinforce them. He does his best to anchor himself in Sam, to stay rooted in the cool breezes and cobalt waters, but every step he takes focuses him more on his body and the press of the hot irons in his mind. More pain follows the first wave, remembered bursts of heat that burn through his body, through limbs that don't exist anymore. He can deal with it, he thinks. It's not like he hasn't done so before.]

( Like hell it's fine. I've carried heavier than you, man, I got this. I don't care if you've handled it before, you don't gotta handle it now. )

[ Despite his words, though, Sam is hesitant to manhandle Bucky around like that without his permission. He settles for focusing on their connection, grabbing hold of his bond with Bucky and pulling as hard as he can. Everywhere Bucky tries to anchor himself down, Sam reinforces it, pulling him deeper and curling his wings protectively around him. ]

[Bucky doesn't argue, can't argue at this point with the programming burning white under his skin. This is another one of those times where he's used to doing things alone so he expects to do so again. He's already trying to put one foot in front of the other while Sam's rooting him deeper into his mind. Bucky's doing all he can, digging in deep, but at this point the easiest thing for him is to simply move and deal with it for however long until they find the hotel. Or, Sam, really, because Bucky is already starting to check out from the combination of the overheating and being spread between two minds.

Opening his eyes is a task all on its own, frost sticking his eyelashes together, and that alone is nearly enough to send him reeling. How many times did he wake up like this?]

[ Without thinking about it, Sam stops in front of Bucky and reaches out, thumb sweeping gently under Bucky's eyes and across his eyelashes to try to melt some of the frost. ]

( You're not alone, sunshine. Come on, I got you. Stay in here with me. )

[ Sam's just going to. Drape Bucky's arm over his shoulder, crouch down a little and try to haul him up into essentially a piggy back ride. ]

[When Sam moves in front of him, Bucky expects to be hit. He's not entirely sure why, until thumbs are brushing over the frost on his eyelashes. Once he's hoisted onto Sam's back, Bucky's beyond resisting. Sam feels cool in comparison and the invitation to rejoin Sam in his mind is met with enthusiasm. He crosses through the link again, with noted ease now that he doesn't have to focus on walking and mental efforts. Almost immediately, the sensation of being practically boiled alive grows more distant.

He's not light, especially not in the two years since HYDRA. Not having to live off rations and nutrient paste, unless self-imposed, has put a lot more meat on his bones.]

[ Sam's pretty damn sure why, but that's not a place he really wants to go. Gotta focus on the here and now, and now he's got Bucky on his back and settled in his mind. He'll take it.

Even if Bucky's ass is heavy. He's carried Steve before, sure, lots of times - but gravity's different in the air, and the one time Sam had to actually fight it and carry Steve, it wasn't for very long. Sam's pretty sure he can attribute the fact that he can manage it okay to the symbiote's physical enhancements rather than his rescue training.

He takes a moment to make sure his grip is secure - thanks to his symbiote ability, he's had a little better luck keeping the cold off, but his teeth are still chattering and he can barely feel his fingers - and then he sets off. He's gotta skirt the edges of the crowds as best as he can instead of shouldering his way through, and he's real damn grateful the hotel room is close by.

It's not too long before he's shifting to scan the lock open and kick the door in. He nudges it shut behind him and makes a beeline for the couch, planning on setting Bucky down on it. ]

[Bucky doesn't make any effort to object, isn't in the right headspace to refuse as he's hoisted onto Sam's back. It's easier to keep rooted in Sam's mind with the contact, as well as not needing to focus on walking. People jostle him from time to time, jostle Sam more like, but it's still less jolting than when he tried to walk on his own. Once more, the heat ravaging his body is distant like the sunset, something he doesn't have to surrender himself to.

Soon enough, though, Sam is moving him on purpose, shifting him and then his back is down against something soft. However, Bucky lurches up to keep physical contact with his broodmate, tangling his fingers in Sam's.]

[ There's a tight curl of affection when Bucky grabs his hand, mixed in with a little protectiveness and something like gratitude. He doesn't wanna lose physical contact with Bucky right now, either. Sam squeezes Bucky's hand, easing himself down so he can sit on the floor and lean up against the couch. His arm's propped up on the cushion so he can keep hold of Bucky's hand, and he pillows his head on his shoulder as he reaches out with his other hand to stroke through Bucky's hair. ]

( I'm not going anywhere, sunshine. Stay here as long as you want, all right, try to get some rest if you can? )

[Bucky's hair is still half-frozen to his face, damp from both sweat and the refrigeration. Releasing a sigh when Sam doesn't dislodge his fingers, he relaxes against the cushions and deeper into their link. For now, he doesn't have to think. Exhaustion, thirst, and hunger roll over him but none are more important than keeping the connection with Sam; everything else can wait. After all, he's got just the one hand and it's very much occuppied right now.

With a hum, Bucky acknowledges Sam, quietly content to sit like this for a while.]

желание I know you are the answer, but I forgot the question.	печь There will always be a lie in believe.
один Whatever is static is dead.	рассвет The world is too quiet.

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