thearena | [Open] The journey thus far...

Entry tags:

[Open] The journey thus far...

Who| Steve and Anyone!
What| This feels too much like sitting around and waiting to die. Or a catchall for before and during the first Hell-rena.
Where| Everywhere.
When| Weeks 1 & 2 (or the week before and week of the first Hell-rena)
Warnings/Notes| Mild language and violence, update as needed.

Watching videos of past arenas can only make someone so prepared for the real thing, but actually being here is far more chaotic and unpredictable than the videos ever depicted. This place is a veritable wonderland of possibilities. Steve really has no idea what to expect.

But still, he didn't expect it to be this, well, calm. Sure, he got attacked on the first day and he's had to fight off some nasty creatures here and there during the days after, even ran had a few peaceful encounters with people, but the fog acts as a blanket over a birdcage, making everything quiet. Too quiet maybe.

He just didn't know exactly what too quiet would lead to, but he was smart enough to know it would be no good.

When the sirens first blare, Steve immediately goes to find his allies, so he can get them somewhere safe; the noise is an all too familiar sound from his days in the war. But then the fog clears and temperature rises with unnatural speed, the walls dissolving instead of the telling sounds of planes and bombs, well, wasn't hard to catch on.

[ooc: I'm going to comment some prompts below, feel free to use them or, if you rather, you can leave me a prompt! I'm open to anything, including some scuffles. Just make sure to specify when it's for so I know where it fits in. You can use the prompts as an idea for what's going on during those times.

Also, prose or bracket RP is fine by me, I don't have a preference, so do which ever you prefer.]

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Normally, two lovers sleeping nestled together in a crumbling abandoned house is the stuff of perfect post-apocalyptic romance, or possibly the lead-up to a gory death in a horror movie. No one else is ever needed to complete the scene, except perhaps the monster or the slasher.

But though he falls asleep curled up against Natasha at the end of the first week in the Arena, Bucky keeps waking up throughout the ensuing hours to feel her shivering in his arms. She may try to hide it, because that's what she does, but he knows that despite all their warm clothes, she's gotten colder and slower than usual. He's afraid for her, but he can't show that. All he can do is tuck her more tightly against the right side of his body and try to doze off again.

At least, that's what he does the first time he awakens to feel her trembling against him. The second time, he's had enough of his pride.

"Sorry, Nat," he mutters, and before she can protest too much, he scoops her into his arms, stands up, and picks his way carefully through the house.

"Steve. Hey. We need your help."

That's what he says as he approaches now, Natasha stirring indignantly in his arms like a sullen captive princess. His voice is calm but urgent, and his expression is imploring.

"What the hell, James?"

Stirring indignantly doesn't begin to express the look of annoyance that spreads across her face as she tries to sit up in her beloved's arms. The fact there's a struggle to do so in the first place is a big warning sign, but she shoves it back down.

"m'sleepy..." Complaining in a petulant whine, she nestles back against his body with ragged breath, trying to warm the air between his shoulder and her face. "And what do you mean we need his help?"

Natasha Romanova definitely isn't herself if she's incapable of putting two and two together.

Steve doesn't sleep much here in the arena, a couple hours here and there, but most nights he's up keeping watch. The war had taught him he could function perfectly fine without much sleep, so he was all for using it here. The howls from those dogs startled him out of his sleep every time anyway.

The noise of someone coming his way already had his attention, but he knew the gait, so it didn't set him on alert. But the tone of Bucky's voice and Natasha's protests have him standing to meet them.

"What's wrong?" Even though he asks it, he's already made his way over to them, touching Natasha's shoulder and feeling how cold it is. "You do know I'm the only one around here allowed to be an icicle, right?"

Carrying Natasha across the crumbling house was the easy part--and she's a deadly trained assassin. What's about to happen now? That's going to be difficult for Bucky.

He stalls it by ducking his head to kiss the top of hers. "I mean we need his help. Come on." Anything to avoid actually looking Steve in the eye right now.

But it can't be put off forever, especially not when Steve asks him about it, even jokes about the situation. He takes a deep breath. "Yeah, that's the thing. Turns out you're the least icy person here for once. And--"

Is he turning slightly red in the face?

"I'm not keeping her warm enough right now. Maybe she's sick, maybe it's the arm, I don't know, Steve, just--" He looks away again. "Let's--for warmth. You know? Share a blanket or something. Just for a few hours till we can go deal with this damn arena again."

Steve's touch shouldn't be warm to her, but it is. Her lips turn downwards sharply in disappointment at the situation; not at James, but herself. He should be all she needs, who are they to demand a third person?

"m'not sick." As if to defy his words, she tries to scoot closer towards his left side as if the act alone will prove it isn't his arm either. "If I was, you'd be a damn fool to ask a third to risk infection just because I'm having a spot of trouble."

James is enough. He has always been enough. They don't need the help of a third person, so why?

Natasha especially doesn't need another Cap to hold her. She's lucky enough to have the one that matters right now.

Seeing Bucky embarrassed to ask this of him is another reminder that they don't share the same pre-war history. His Bucky would've never been embarrassed to ask that, they've huddled to share warmth enough times in the New York winters when there wasn't money to keep the heat on and Steve needed to keep warm or get sick.

Steve keeps that all to himself, giving Bucky an understanding look and a nod, "I have a sleeping bag we can use." That's more than enough answer to his request. But before he steps away, he looks at Natasha, rubbing his hand up and down her upper arm, much like the friendly gesture she did days earlier. "And you might not be sick now, but you will be if we don't warm you up."

Removing himself, he moves over to grab the sleeping bag he'd been sitting on just moments ago, unzipping it til it's more of a blanket. Without his jacket, Steve relied on it for warmth when he needed it.

Maybe if it were just the two of them, just him and Steve, it would be different. After all, it got cold enough out on the front during the war, and there was never any question then of how to deal with it. Then again, that was another lifetime. That kid, leaning up against his partner and mentor, had a lot less blood on his hands. He could consider Steve that partner and mentor, instead of something stranger, more distant, more complicated.

"I'm not asking him anything, Natasha," Bucky insists for now. "I'm making a suggestion he's real happy to take me up on, that's all. Ain't that right, Steve?" His speech patterns slip a little, despite himself, back into those of the rough-and-tumble teenager he was so long ago.

If he notices, though, he doesn't draw attention to it. Instead, he shifts Natasha to his right shoulder and crouches to start to pull the blanket over the three of them.

A futile gesture. That's what it means to fight with Bucky and so she must resign from it. While it's not often she backs down, picking a fight with her mentor and something more seems as though it'll be a waste of her time.

His slip-up is noticed, picked up by the person who prides herself on reading those around her, but it remains her secret for now. Natasha needs new ones after all to keep close since everything else she's known has been ripped out from underneath her.

"I need my sleep." She finally admits as fatigue takes a hold of her. Yawning loudly is for the rude and men, not for perfect spies who keep their masks up. It's only after she's let one out does she comprehend the seriousness of her situation. "I don't have super strength or anything to push me forward."

Natasha only has herself.

"On the nose," his tone is amused despite himself. The change in speech isn't unnoticed by Steve either, but it falls into something more familiar than how this Bucky normally talks, so it doesn't register as strange. It's just achingly familiar of something he never finished mourning before his life was flipped upside down again.

Honestly, he's not sure if he's upside down, right side up, vertical, horizontal, or sideways anymore his life has been flipped around so many times lately.

He doesn't dwell on it though, instead settling in along both their rights, helping pull the blanket over all three of them. To keep Natasha warm, he settles close to her, against her enough to transfer his warmth, but he keeps it gentlemanly, not wanting to invade her space and instead be a welcomed presence.

"Then sleep," he says it as he rubs his hand against her arm again, using the friction to build warmth. "Just use us muscle heads as your heated blanket."

The temptation creeps up on Bucky like exactly the kind of enemy he's supposed to be able to recognize and cut down. But it's so insidious that he finds himself giving in instead. In the presence of someone so much like his best friend and partner from so very long ago, along with his best friend and partner and lover of today, he finds himself relaxing.

He shouldn't. They're still trapped in an arena where they need to fight others to the death, where they'll be expected to fight each other to the death if it comes down to something so unfortunate. All the same, he relaxes, because for a few minutes this is the best of every part of his life: Natasha next to him, Steve next to her, and the three of them against the world, ready to be heroes.

Or at least, that's what he's going to pretend is going on. He tugs the blanket further into place. "You'll be fine, Nat. We're all gonna be fine here." He tips his head against hers and leans in close. And if that weight against her side pushes both of them a little closer up against Steve, too...he doesn't seem to mind.

That part of her subconscious that acts as instinct tries to warn her of the danger that comes with falling asleep in a compromising position like this. Soon enough she's turning on her side instead to face Steve out of the two, burying her stronger arm underneath her body.

She's no longer thinking for herself or else what happens next would never take place.

Her arm slips around Steve and holds onto him firmly, her face falling in against his hardened chest for warmth. Instinct says she'll be better protected this way and with the way Bucky pushes in down against her backside, it can't be helped. He's encouraging it in his own way, maybe he wants to also be close to his friend.

Natasha doesn't try to understand. Not right now. Shutting down her pride and her mind takes what's left of her energy, her grip lessening until the weight lifts to leave her in thoughtless sleep.

This is turning out to be a bit more like cuddling than huddling, but Steve doesn't mind. It's strange sure, but he lets them both press as close as they need. He's their space heater right now, so long as he keeps Natasha warm, he doesn't care much how it happens.

Once Natasha is more settled, he rests his arm across her, placing his hand against Bucky's side. It's a light weight to offer warmth, but also there to remind the two of them of his presence when they wake up later. He rather they didn't forget about him and punch him in his sleep. Not that he thinks they will forget, but he rather not chance it in such a high stress environment and with Natasha being so out of it. Better to play it safe.

He knows it'll be a while before he relaxes into sleep, wanting to stay up and keep watch as he lets them sleep safely.

Edited 2014-06-12 23:53 (UTC)

Despite how casually he leans on Natasha, Bucky tenses up just a little at Steve's arm wrapping around her to rest on him. The change isn't something that would normally be very noticeable, but Steve should be able to feel it this time.

He might've been able to safely curl up with his friend for warmth once upon a time, but now it's almost too much to ask.

It only lasts a second, and then Bucky's making himself relax again. "She's out," he murmurs, not just to impart the information, but to take attention away from his own reaction just now. "And she sleeps soundly, believe me. But I'm worried. She shouldn't be this cold and tired."

He does notice the tensing in Bucky by feel alone. Sure, he had his hand there for one reason or another, but if Bucky's uncomfortable, then he's not going to do it. Even if the tenseness lasts only a second, his friend's comfort is more important than a potential black eye.

So, he removes the hand, moving it to adjust the blanket ever so slightly, but in the end doesn't return it to it's original position against either of them.

"Do you know when it started?" he keeps his voice soft as he speaks, though it doesn't mask his concern for her. She's at a disadvantage like this, he doesn't want her to become a target for it.

There's a fleeting, apologetic look from Bucky as Steve pulls his arm away. And then it's gone, and he lets the subject fall. His concern for Natasha--that's way more important than a little awkwardness about what he can and can't share with this version of Steve Rogers.

"I'm not sure. It crept up on her slow." He studies her sleeping face for a long moment before glancing back to Steve, his expression suddenly open and vulnerable with worry for the woman next to both of them. "She's the only one of us who's been eating from the orchards, ain't she? Damn it."

Steve gives Bucky a short and small smile at the apologetic look, not letting it linger because of the topic, but trying to communicate he doesn't mind. It's sometimes hard to know what's different for this Bucky without some trial and error.

When Bucky mentions the orchards, it suddenly makes so much sense. Of course the gamemakers would poison the food grown here. Traps and hazards everywhere, he was warned of that.

"Then she's poisoned. Hell," Steve pauses for only a second to think over some ideas. "There's a chance if she stops eating from the orchards that it'll work itself out of her system," he doubts that, but he doesn't say that. "I have more than enough food to share."

"She's not gonna let you share easy." Bucky's gaze shifts from Steve to the sleeping Natasha, and it goes kind of distant. For a moment he's somewhere else, somewhere peaceful, with only her. "She's proud, she don't take help like that."

And even though he speaks of her flaws, the look on his face is soft and fond as he leans forward to rest his cheek against her jaw and gently kiss her chin as she sleeps.

"But we gotta try, Steve. The moment we start to forget that we're in this together, the Gamemakers have got through to us."

Seeing Bucky so head over heels for this woman is very reassuring to Steve. He can't stop the small smile he gets seeing it, even if he wishes he could give them their privacy. This isn't really a moment to be witness to, but there is no privacy here.

"That's something I won't ever lose sight of, I can promise you that," Steve is fighting so hard to survive here for his allies, to help them survive. Sure, he'd fight hard for himself too, but not as hard as he fights for others.

"Will she take your help? I could give you the food, she doesn't have to know it was mine," okay, he figures she would know anyway, but worth a shot.

But he's already shaking his head. "Even if she didn't figure it out anyway? She doesn't want to take food from me, either. I've tried. She'll find some excuse to brush it off."

He readjusts his position a little, pulling back just slightly from Natasha's sleeping form, and lifts his gaze to Steve, serious and worried. "You'll keep trying to help her, though. I know. You're like him that way even though you're from another world."

Steve meets Bucky's gaze effortlessly and he's glad that he has that similarity with his counterpart. It doesn't matter that these two are from a different world than him, there's no reason to try to help them any less than he would his own.

It was a statement, but Steve still gives a short nod, confirming that Bucky isn't wrong about him. "I have no intention of giving up."

After a moment of that steady gaze, though, Bucky lifts his brows. "Keep enough of your food for yourself too. You won't do anyone any damn good if you starve in here, or get sick."

He falls silent, then, looking away and frowning. Because he knows that no matter what he does, Steve is going to suffer and die in here. It may not be the Steve he knows, but the man is similar enough that it hurts to confront the fact.

He watches Bucky for a long moment, wondering and guessing at what the other man is thinking, possibly even internally agonizing over, but he doesn't realize it's about him, instead thinking it's about Natasha. If only they realized and caught on to what was happening sooner, stopped it sooner. Steve wants to do more, find a solution.

Still- "You do know, I'm going to make you eat some of my food too, right?" He gives the man a look that says he's made up his mind on the subject.

At those words, Bucky vanishes the worry from his face and looks back at Steve with a quick grin. "You think I'm stupid enough to resist? I know you--I know any version of you better than she does."

Any Bucky is likely to know him better than anyone else does, but it's sad how true it seems for this Natasha. The one back home would probably surprise these two.

But he doesn't show those thoughts, just returning the grin instead. "Seems you're the only one with enough sense to know I can out stubborn you all."

He tips his head, though, halfway serious again. "I got one demand you're gonna have to give in to, though. Just one. Save enough for yourself. No one's gonna be okay with your starving here."

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aboveangrybees - 2014-08-22 06:59 (UTC) - Expand

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[Open] The journey thus far...

pre-hell, casavengers.

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