No matter where we are [closed]

[tookthewheel]

Who| Bucky and Steve
What| It's Steve's birthday and Bucky tries to make it even a little bit cheerful.
Where| The castle
When| July 4th/week 6
Warnings/Notes| Talk of torture, maybe

It's Steve's birthday. That realisation dawns on Bucky not long after he wakes up from a uncomfortable, fretful nap. He's not sleeping well, of course, none of them are.

Given where they are and what's happening to them he'd probably be forgive for forgetting but last year he didn't remember either, he was with Steve but he didn't remember. This is different, he's not who he was a year ago, not by a long shot. Now he remembers and he can do something. He just... he wishes they were anywhere else.

The arena's no place for 'happy birthday' or presents, none of the normal things. There's not even a single Fourth of July firework in the sky for Bucky to make out as Steve's.

He can remember a couple of those nights, back when they were kids, staring up at a sky on fire.

Bucky would if he could. If he was in the Capitol he'd brave going out there if it meant fireworks for Steve, something to make him smile and assure him that Bucky was there and he did remember. Too bad that's not how it is.

Bucky's not sure if this Steve, small and hurting again, will appreciate him bringing up his birthday in this place - it's getting near the end, with hunger and illness setting in - so he's counting on the fact Bucky remembers being enough to cheer him up. It's a stupid idea but Steve's always made him a little stupid.

"Hey, Stevie." he approaches the spot his friend has claimed as his own. The choice of the more familiar nickname is intentional. Bucky twists his wrist, easily tossing what he's holding in his hand into Steve's lap. "Happy birthday."

Comments

[aboveangrybees]

Sickness has taken hold of Steve at this point, turned his breathing into constant wheezing and his every movement more laborious than the last. He's tired, so tired, but at this point his sleeping is so deep he can't even scream himself awake and so troubled that he wakes up more exhausted then when he fell asleep to start with. It's just not worth the effort, not when there's no food to make up for what sleep is unable to offer. So, he more often than not stays close to base, if not in the base itself.

Today he's shifted himself to look out the window next to his nest of blankets and fabrics, one of the sleeping bags he got around his shoulders. He sees little reason to get up and leave the camp unguarded when everyone else has gone out to scavenge.

Or he had thought everyone had gone, but Bucky speaks loud enough to catch his attention, the use of the nickname setting him at ease more than on guard. His mind had been wandering to some reach of his thoughts that he can't quite recall once disturbed from them, but with the faster beat of his heart, he decidedly doesn't want to return to them. So he looks up at the other man only to flinch a little when something is tossed his way. That something of which is a pine cone that now sits square in his lap.

He looks back up at Bucky, eyes wide at the next words. At some point he had lost track of time, but he hadn't realized by how much and now it's his birthday. Looking down at his lap again, Steve picks up the pine cone, holding it.

"I hadn't-" he shakes his head, trying to focus on the positive part of what's just now happening, the part that made his heart pick up in pace in a good way. When did it become so hard to be positive? "You remembered," he sends Bucky a small smile. The tease he offers next makes him seem a bit more like his old self again, "You really went all out, huh? Must have spent all morning finding such an intact pine cone."

[tookthewheel]

An invisible knife twists in Bucky's chest at every wheezing breath, a sharp reminder of how helpless he is in this arena to protect Steve from so many mundane threats. Mutt's, other Tribute's, those he can tear apart; not sickness and infection.

At this point, at every point in his life, he's known better than to show Steve how much it hurts him inside. All he can do is keep trying his level best to make sure his best friend keeps on breathing, hopefully longer than everyone else in this Godforsaken hellhole.

"I remembered." Bucky confirms for him, sinking down to settle crosslegged in front of Steve. All on my own he doesn't say, hoping Steve just gets it instead. There hadn't had to be reminder or an outright telling, he'd known without anyone's help. "What can I say, I'm a generous type of guy."

He says it with a lazy rolling shrug of his left shoulder. Each passing day, week, hour has made him feel more human, less machine. Maybe that's a thing to thank the Gamemaker's for - if he were capable of wanting to do anything more than spit in their faces before he slit their throats. There were real smiles that rolled over his face, gestures that felt as natural as breathing and so much more knowledge than he'd had before. No imitations here.

"Thought about some kind of fancy decoration but this seemed more you."

[aboveangrybees]

Bucky sitting across from him makes Steve instinctively lean back a little, but there is little fear in his posture or eyes anymore. Weeks of Bucky proving Steve can trust him has paid off, allowing the part of Steve that had never stopped trusting Bucky to overcome the fear, to become sure and strong again. Though the fear still frequently rears it's ugly head, it doesn't right now. At this time, Steve is comfortable with the other man, at ease in his company, even welcoming of it.

He turns the pine-cone over in his hands, looking at it with a fond smile. "Yeah, gotta say, Capitol's reinforced my taste for simple things. Back there, this would've been jewel encrusted."

That's an understatement. After seeing and experiencing the extravagance of the Capitol, after having it forced on him, he really has no taste for it. He never had a taste for it, but even less so now than before. He'll take a plain pine-cone and a quiet moment with a friend any day over what he would have gotten back in the Capitol. Though, he misses the fireworks now, hearing the pops and bangs and seeing the color in his mind, but there won't be any of that here.

"Thank you," Steve directs the smile at Bucky now, it growing warmer with the thought that Bucky remembered, that Bucky recalled and went out of his way to do this for Steve, to make it a special day even here in this hell hole. He's incredibly touched by it, more than he can put words to. A thank you is just not enough.

"I'm really glad you remembered. Would've been just another day if you hadn't," his voice catches slightly, but his smile doesn't falter.

[tookthewheel]

"Maybe I'll find you one of those when we get back." His lips quirk at the image of a jewel encrusted pinecone sitting in Steve's quarters, maybe a collection of them; hell, they're probably setting off a trend with this conversation right now. "One that's red, white and blue."

He makes a note to look that up whenever (and however) they're out of here.

"You're welcome, Steve." he likes using his name, working the familiar sound of it through his mouth, over his tongue. "Don't say I never do anything for you." he does, did, so many things for Steve and he doesn't regret any of them. "I'm glad I remembered too."

For so many reasons.

[aboveangrybees]

Steve gives a huff of a laugh, first honest one this arena, it feels almost foreign as it passes his lips, like something that shouldn't be there but filters through. He doesn't stifle it though, just lets the amused sound settle between them.

"You can keep that one, I'll take one that's just blue. Maybe blue and silver," Bucky can keep the one that is like him, Steve will take one that reminds him of Bucky. Even with the red on Bucky's shoulder, Steve can't fully bring himself to associate the color with the man.

"Yeah, that's one claim I'm not about to ever make," Bucky has done far more for Steve in his life than thinks he'll ever be able to figure out out a way to say thank you for. "Even if you're a bum about making the bed."

[tookthewheel]

Bucky blinks, then after a moment it clicks and his lips tilt up again. "Sure thing, Steve."

He's going to do that when they get back, just to see the look on Steve's face when he follows through. Probably not the dumbest thing he'll have ever done to get a laugh out of his friend. Bucky can remember flickers of cavorting round Steve's childhood bedroom when he was laid up sick in bed, reading books and comics in ridiculous voices to get even the briefest smile in response.

"It'll just be unmade again later." he plays along. "But I cna work on it if that's your birthday wish."