bracchium | c o n t a c t

[ There's a resigned echo of Bucky's sad acknowledgement. A lot of the time, it wasn't so different when Sam served. Too many times soldiers were considered expendable to one degree or another.

Sam's spent his whole life trying to be the exception. First in pararescue, then at the VA, then with the Avengers - that others may live, no man left behind, fighting enemy combatants that wanted to take their lives and the demons and ghosts that lived in their minds and their own government that forgot about them so easily. He ain't gonna change that now.

His thumb brushes over the back of Bucky's knuckles, and he finds he's leaned in closer, trying to occupy more of Bucky's personal space. ]

No mission is ever gonna be worth losing you.

[The echo that follows his response is both expected and not. For all that Sam is a soldier--- for the battles and the death he's seen--- he's continued to hold onto hope for Bucky. That at the end of all this, Bucky was becoming a person and not the weapon he was crafted to be. The more time he spends with Sam, the more he realizes how he differs from anyone else he's ever met. Despite shooting him or throwing him by his face, Sam continues to stick by his side to help him fight against the programming that forms his foundation.

Sam leaning closer isn't surprising, but the words that accompany the action are. Just as Bucky finds himself mirroring Sam, until they're toe-to-toe and breathing the same air, Sam responds and Bucky balks.]

What?

[ Sam doesn't know how to live without hope. Or, well - he does, because he did, and he's never going back to that. Sometimes balancing weariness and practicality with hope and idealism gets hard as hell, but most days he manages to reconcile it okay.

He does almost regret saying it with the way it makes Bucky balk - but only because he likes getting to be this close to him, and he doesn't want to make him pull away. ]

You're not expendable, sunshine, not to me. I don't wanna do this - any of it - without you.

[Bucky knows he's important to Sam and vice versa. They've said as much to each other multiple times, more often when curled around and in each other's heads so deep Bucky can hardly tell them apart. Bucky would throw his life into the fire for Sam at the blink of an eye and trusts that Sam has his back in ways that others can't, more than one soldier to another.

Somehow, this is on a whole different level.]

This is bigger than us.

[It sounds wrong in his mouth, but right in his mind. The programming purrs, sends a rewarding rush of cold through his head that digs in under Sam's presence.]

[ This is on another level. Sam's helped on missions in the past where he could, usually got a little more caught up than he intended, but he still has a hard time following orders from those he doesn't completely trust. It'd been more about keeping his friends safe than about mission perimeters.

Sam opens their connection wider, pulling them closer together as he spills out warmth to try to chase away that chill. ]

There's a lot of stuff that's bigger than us. I've put my life and the lives of others on the line for what's right more times than I can count, and I'd do it again. [ More than on the line, really - it's not like he hasn't done whatever he needed to for the greater good before - but this is different. ] This ain't like that. It's always gonna be you, all right? Whatever the mission - you're always gonna be my priority.

[ The people Sam loves here - Bucky and Clint and Steve and Shiro, Damon and Misato and Shepard and Kavinsky, Katie and Nyx and Bellamy - they're the ones he's sworn to protect, and they'll always come first. Sam'll go along with any mission right up until it involves leaving them in danger. ]

[That chill settles deep in the cracks in Bucky's foundation, in the wounds still healing after the most recent fight against the programming. On Concordia and more on the Waypoint, Bucky had been content to stay away from the action if possible, as any time he got close, the Soldier emerged. They don't have that option this time around; the stakes are higher than ever and mistakes could cost lives.

--- shape the century--- echoes in the back of his mind. Sitting across from Pierce, bile in his mouth as he wanted, as he was selfish in the face of something more important than himself. He knew the man on the bridge, but he needed to do one more thing.

He shakes his head to clear his head of the memory as Sam's impressions of a wide circle of friends press into the vacated space. By comparison, Bucky only really counts Sam and Steve. Shiro is a tentative, as well as Shepard and MIsato, but nowhere near trusting his life to them. Or Sam's life to them, really.

In Steve's memories, the well-oiled version of himself with a clean-shaven chin hangs off the arms of dozens of people, all smiles and bright eyes. But here, Bucky is nothing like that or like Sam's quiet leadership that builds from the roots. What Cathaway says is true: Sam is the best choice for a leader, with the most passion and the sheer talent to build relationships. It makes sense to advise him further of the dangers this mission presents not only to those relationships but the Nest as a whole.

Sam can't afford to think of a broken toy soldier with stakes like that and Bucky can't distract him.]

I'll be fine.

[ They don't really have that option, as reluctant as Sam is about that. It's not that he thinks that they can avoid anyone getting hurt - someone always gets hurt - but whatever he can do to minimize it, he will.

Snippets of Bucky's memory bleed through, of Pierce, and Sam lets go of the surge of anger almost as soon as it comes up. His rage on Bucky's behalf won't help at the moment.

He can't help the way his mind turns to Clint, half an offer and half another impression, somewhere between you should let him talk to you more and they'd understand each other. There's a hint of a crackle of blue and an indistinct whisper that edges that impression, but Sam pulls his thoughts elsewhere before anything else comes across. As free as he is with his own thoughts and memories, that one isn't his to share.

Instead he focuses on what Bucky actually says, shaking his head. ]

I wouldn't be.

[ Without you, he means, you're not a distraction, you're a focus. He knows Bucky's gonna pick up on it whether he says it or not - but saying it outloud feels like a little too much right now, like maybe more than either of them can handle. Sam reaches out to tangle the fingers of his free hand in Bucky's shirt, making another point of contact as his mind brushes away the images of a ghost that Sam's seen only in Steve and Bucky's minds. ]

You know I don't want that Bucky, man, he doesn't mean a thing to me. He's not you, and I want you. Your broken pieces fit together just fine with mine, all right?

[Bucky brushes away the mental offer of Clint. He's not up to trusting anyone new right now, not with the stakes what they are. When Sam speaks again, Bucky doesn't look up to meet Sam's gaze; through the link he can feel Sam's sincerity. However, when fingers tangle in his shirt--- one of the new ones Sam gave him--- he does glance up. He's heard this before from Sam and Steve alike, but he can't help but draw comparison to the easy smiles in Steve's memories to Bucky's stiff efforts to the same.

Between them, the brood link hums strong, their shared mental space a blend of Sam's brilliant hues and Bucky's sedated blues and blacks. Together, they weave a glimmering brocade, seams nearly invisible. He knows as well as Sam just how well they fit together, but he can't help but continue to doubt his resourcefulness outside of battle.]

[ Fair enough, man, fair enough. Sam lets it go, at least maybe until after the mission - or until they have to pull off a last minute extraction plan of their own, and they need people they can trust.

Just like he lets go of the comparison that Bucky keeps drawing. No matter how many times that Sam says it, no matter how much Bucky feels that it's true - well, actions say things better than words, and ultimately it's gonna be on Bucky to believe it. Sam knows what it's like to compare everything you are to what you think of as the best version of yourself and come up empty.

This whole resourcefulness thing, though... Sam flattens his hand on Bucky's chest, thumb stroking absently. ]

Yeah? What do you think my resourcefulness outside of battle is?

You're a leader. [Bucky replies, not needing to wait to form and organize the words in his mind before saying them. Like Steve, Sam has a natural charisma that calls people to his side, but Sam also has the added benefit of being a soldier and counselor, knowing what to say and when to say it. If nothing else, his spread of influence is evidence of his resourcefulness outside of battle. He can organize people and earn the trust of even the most stubbornly untrusting individuals, with Bucky himself as proof.

Sam's gentle ministrations ease some of the burning behind his sternum, the residual guilt that never seems to quite completely disappear. Even when Sam is with him, it clings to his bones and eats away at his core.] 's why Cathaway talked to you.

[And not the one-armed supersoldier that can hardly hold a full conversation.]

[ That - is honestly not what Sam was expecting. The last time he heard that was from Ilde, only he's pretty sure she was trying to manipulate him into doing what she wanted. ]

People keep saying that. Man, the last call I made I sent most of our team to prison and got one of my friends paralyzed from the waist down. It ain't like I'm doing all that better here, I-

[ He cuts off. Sam can't save everyone, he knows that. He does. He learned it a long time ago and he's been reminded of it so many damn times over the years, and every time he does his best to come back from it, but - he can't do it alone. Sam can talk to people, he can listen to them and support them and challenge them and refuse to let anyone walk on him, but he ain't Steve. ]

I'm not a leader, sunshine, I'm just trying to do my best. Being friends with you, doing - whatever this is between us, it - I don't know, it makes things easier. Don't make me talk about feelings, all right, it's gonna make both of us uncomfortable. [ He'd rather just slide his hand down Bucky's chest, around his waist and up his back, keeping close. ] Who the hell knows why Cathaway does anything, anyway.

[Bucky bites his lip at Sam's response, at the reminder of the consequences of the airport, of trusting Bucky's word that there were more of him out there that needed to be stopped. More lives were changed and tainted from winter's touch. Bucky's more than happy to not talk about their feelings, content to ignore putting into words the bond between them that continues to deepen past the point of friendship and into something far more intimate. He welcomes the distraction and hunches his back enough that he can put his chin on Sam's shoulder, offering a soft grunt of acknowledgment.

As usual, the more points of contact, the quieter the programming hums. If Bucky had his way--- if he let himself be selfish--- he'd let the Nest go without him and Sam, just to get some true quiet time.

But Sam's too responsible and Bucky can't let himself want.]

[ Sam lets out a quiet exhale at Bucky biting his lip, squeezing his hand lightly. That one's his, Bucky, let him have it. He promises he won't hold onto it for too long, but it's still something he's gotta work through.

He doesn't say anything, though, content to splay his hand between Bucky's shoulderblades and close his eyes at Bucky's chin on his shoulder, leaning his head against Bucky's and nuzzling a little.

Something faint between rueful and amusement swirls at that bit about him being too responsible. ]

( You know me so well. ) [ It's more praise that recrimination. A lot of people see a part of Sam, some see more than one, but Bucky's one of a few that sees just about all of who he is. It's a relief, even if he doesn't always understand it.

He holds Bucky closer, until even their legs are pressed together, creating as many points of contact as possible to shut the programming even further out. ]

( You can want. It's just you and me, all right, this is our space. You can want anything. We'll go off by ourselves, even on the mission. I want it, too. )

[Bucky hums at Sam's initial response, his lips quirking as he snakes an arm around Sam's waist and tangles his fingers in Sam's shirt. When they're like this, he can hardly hear the programming at all, little more than a whistle on a summer breeze. He knows it won't last forever, not really, but an oasis like this is hard to resist, especially in the face of the upcoming mission.

When Sam continues, though, Bucky finds himself hesitating. Wanting leads to danger, wanting leads to erratic weapons. Weapons need to focus on the mission and Sam needs to focus on being responsible.

Knowing he doesn't need to verbalize this, Bucky instead sighs into the side of Sam's neck.]

[ Nothing lasts forever, Sam knows that. But like this - well, it's easy to believe that maybe they can do this, that maybe they can actually pull this off. This is why he fights, for moments like this when they can be happy. He'll hold onto it, and to their camping trip and their time on Waypoint in that shitty studio with all those alien baby birds.

He slides one hand up Bucky's back, enough to be able to play with the braids in his hair. ]

( I don't care about what we need to do right now. I want you, I want this. And it's okay for you to want it, too. ) [ There's a pause, and it's clear in Sam's mind that he's unsure, that he doesn't want Bucky to feel like he should want it just because Sam does. And he knows that Bucky does, he's felt him want Sam's presence before, but that doesn't mean he's gotta do it all the time. ] ( And it's okay for you not to, too. I know you can't always tell me, but I'll pick it up. )

[Bucky doesn't mind the fingers curling up over the ends of his braids. He hasn't seen fit to cut his hair since arriving on the station and it was long enough to braid before. Now, he's got some decent length on it, making it easier to maintain in the braids than before. Sam's memories mingle with his own, remind him that they have this at the end of the day, at the end of the mission.

Sam doesn't really need to ask if Bucky wants him, wants whatever their relationship has turned into, because he does, a whole heck of a lot more than he ever expected to.

Still, there are times that deserve verbalization and this is one of those times.] ( I do. )

[ It's something Sam appreciates, honestly, though he's sure as hell not gonna tell Bucky that he likes his hair long. Not more than what Bucky can probably pick up when Sam braids his hair, anyway.

Which is also something that Sam appreciates, mostly, the fact that they don't really have to talk to get things across sometimes - but he loves it when Bucky does, anyway. He's not sure he could explain why, except maybe some combination of liking Bucky's voice and it being a good sign when he's able to verbalize, but there it is. His free hand moves in absent circles, catches on the hem of Bucky's shirt, and settles, fingertips resting against skin. ]

( It's yours. )

[ All of it: the shared mental space, the physical contact, the mutual support, working together to chase away the programming, the teasing and hassling and goofing off, everything that's between them. As long as Bucky wants Sam, he's got him. ]

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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