logsinthenight | Losing Family [Catch-all Log

Entry tags:

Losing Family [Catch-all Log - Open]

characters: Bucky/Soldat and OPEN
location: Aziraphale and Crowley's house, around Beacon, the church, etc
date/time: First half of March, up to the Wild Heart event
content: Soldat lost some really important people and is reacting poorly
warnings: Excessive sadness, a temper tantrum at one point, varying levels of ability to actually verbalize, and the usual disassociation for a Soldat post

I. Ferry Fears (Open)

It's normal to visit the ferry on the day it arrives. Soldat always helps unload, and this month they have things they badly want, anyway. They frown at the smell wafting off the lake as the ferry drifts up through the melting ice. They know that smell-- they know it very well. Why does the ferry smell like weeks-old dead bodies?

Well, that's a question quickly answered. Leaping on board even before the ferry docks-- thanks, superserum!-- Soldat is faced with... actual weeks-old dead bodies! What a surprise. They crouch to investigate them, because of course they do, looking for signs of cause of death, alert for potential danger still on board. And that facial structure and rotting clothing is... familiar. That curl of blonde hair. That--

"--holy shitting fuck," Soldat whines, scrambling back with a start. That would be the decaying body of one Misty Day, right there. But they saw her just this morning. She's fine. They, uh, dash out a quick text message to her on their tablet (Misty please tell me you are okay) and then pick themselves up. Gingerly. And start looking at more bodies, giving that one a wide berth but keeping it in the corner of their eye anyway. Other bodies reveal themselves to be other friends, including a Crowley and Aziraphale, and, wedged into a corner of one cabin room, their own rotting corpse-- metal arm still shiny and undecayed because the damn thing doesn't even rust.

"What the fuck," they mutter to themselves, before finally, warily getting busy hauling getting supplies off the boat. Maybe a little more quickly than usual. They wanna see people's faces in person, after this.

II. Frantic Searching (Open)

Only there are a few faces missing. Aziraphale is nowhere to be found (again) and Crowley is missing from his bed and Mewtwo is not at the armory. Soldat checks in with the others-- Sora, Misty, Ellever, anyone they actually know and find comfortable to talk with actually-- with one of the questions: "Have you seen Crowley? Tall, copper hair, kind of an asshole?" "Have you seen Aziraphale? Kind of round, white curls, awful bowtie?" "Have you seen a tall blue cat-like person that floats and talks in your head?"

Even after the weekly bulletin with Lucius and Aziraphale confirmed in the obituaries, that doesn't mean they're not coming back. Right? And Aziraphale will be pissed as hell if Soldat managed to lose Crowley hours after his untimely demise. So they keep looking, keep asking around, keep checking the various outlying buildings and holding up their lantern fully unshuttered to the dark woods in search of a glimpse, an echo of a voice, a goddamn scent of Crowley or Mewtwo. (Fully unshuttered means anybody passing by can catch a glimpse of that little green crack, too, for those inclined to be nosy and who might know what that means.)

III. Church Vigils (Open)

When the search falls short after a few days, Soldat's routine changes. Patrols are cut a little short. Visits to handlers are brief, a quick assurance for Misty and dropping off a meal for Javert. Lunches or dinners at the Invincible are made to go. Meals, network scrolling, and weapon maintenance all take place in the church, a pew near the back, while Soldat waits for Aziraphale. And maybe Crowley. And maybe Mewtwo. Maybe even Lucius.

After the first week, it's Crowley and maybe Mewtwo. And a fixed, carefully neutral expression. They go through two notebooks, writing not memories of before they died, but memories of a former handler and technician. Those are precious, too.

IV. Rattling Around the House (Semi-open, close CR only)

Four hours twice a day are set aside for sleep. Mostly, in the empty house, Soldat does not in fact sleep. They pace around. They make little armies of origami animals. They cook mounds of food and plow through it without tasting it, to make up for the nervous energy and the lack of sleeping.

They can be found here during the two four-hour segments of the day they normally sleep, if anyone wants to come by. Only close friends get an answer at the door, though. People Soldat doesn't feel comfortable being nervous and only partially verbal around don't get to come in.

V. Packing Up (Semi-open, close CR only)

After the second week of church vigils, Soldat stops going. Because no one stays dead that long unless they really are dead. After that, patrols and handler visits don't happen at all for about three days. One of those days is spent out in the woods behind the village punching trees and making a big, noisy fuss outside of the immediate earshot of anyone who might worry. One is spent in blank moroseness, locked up in the house, out of energy to make a fuss.

The third day is spent slowly packing up all the personal things that belonged to Crowley, Aziraphale, and themselves. (Including a weird-ass little ghost thing that seems to like being petted on top of the head and occasionally followed them around the house during their pacing. It's kind of cute, and it used to be Crowley's, so apparently Soldat is looking after it now.) Friends can come in this day, too, if they want to help in the packing.

Packing complete, Soldat starts sadly carrying armfuls of things to Misty's cabin or back to the general store.

VI. Back to Normal? (Open)

After that, things even out. Soldat is staying at Misty's house now, though the torch remains in front of Aziraphale and Crowley's house since she has her own. Their routine resumes, exactly as if they never stopped it. Patrols are on time and thorough, meals happen actually at the Invincible, they return to practicing at the gymnasium on days when there's no combat classes, and they actually sleep again.

Still kind of quiet, though, with little casual conversation and no singing under their breath, and there's been no catching various friends with a song and a dance like had maybe seemed like it was becoming a thing now and then. Soldat's going to be a while actually getting back to happy, sorry friends, but they never turn down company.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Will Sora commandeer the song choices, is the question. He wants them to have their jams, but like, man... sometimes you gotta save a pal from their sad song marathon. Like, it's not even a matter of whether he relates or not - he does, totally - but he knows that at some point he personally needs a break. And if they can't do it themselves, Sora's going to do it!

He's gonna grab a dish cloth, drag the soldier's tablet to him, Upbeat, but a little laid-back and melancholy. It's not really relevant to anything, he just needs a tiny change of pace.

The little twist of metal's long dried, so Sora's going to fiddle with it for another minute, testing its strength, before nodding and heading back to his backpack. He won't mind if the music's different when he gets back.

By the time Sora gets over to change the music, Soldat's finished the first knife and is on to the second, but they pause at the new tune to listen. ... huh. That's pretty great, actually. They collect the tablet to look for more by that artist in Songbird, and come up with this not exactly upbeat number, but it's pretty.

Back to knives. They're content to just sit quietly and work on their separate things together for a while, until Sora's ready for bed.

Sora's never heard this song, actually, or at least if he has, he's never given it much thought. He's bringing back his journal, and opens it up, spreads out his work. There are some memories getting written down, some drafts for some letters. He'll put those aside though, and spread a couple of reports on the table. The "Real" Organization. Ansem Code Conspectus, Excerpt 1.

And he'll start taking notes on those - marking down which reports he needs to get from Pluto next, a list of resources he has to trade. Some things he's starting to think he'll need for the transfer. "Power of Awakening." "Perfect memory." "People to show the way home."

But he does get distracted by the song, man. He's never listened to it before. Not really. "It's just a break-up, isn't it," he says out of the blue. "Just a really sad, messy break-up. Right?"

Edited (THERE WAS A WHOLE THOUGHT HERE I MISSED.) 2020-03-14 09:49 (UTC)

Soldat pauses with knife on whetstone, frowns at the tablet, then starts the song over. They have a tendency to not pay close attention to the lyrics of things. "I don't think so," they say after moment of listening, holding a knife but not working on sharpening it, so the noise won't distract from the words. "Grief, maybe."

"Oh. You think?" Despite where they are, that definitely wasn't the first thought that sprung to mind. Sora thinks about it again, picking over the words. Maybe it was the last few lines in the last verse that got him? Or that second verse. The feeling of someone leaving and then suddenly being a totally different person. No one to define him anymore.

Then again, grief is a slightly flexible word. (Sora thinks. Maybe. Hey, he's the one who keeps insisting they're alive here, right?) And Soldat is well within their rights to attribute that to the present.

A heart, a soul, and a body. That's what people are made of, where Sora's from. He goes back to his work. "Do you feel like he gets it? Grieving." And for that matter, it's kind of heartening to know that Soldat can pick out these things.

It just feels so permanent. Who would get so worried about their soul over a romantic break-up? But if someone was gone forever... someone important, who helped you be better... that seems much more worth singing about your soul. "Maybe. There's other songs that are better about it, but. I do like this one. He has a. Really pleasant voice."

Really, emoting through music choices is something Soldat's had actual practice in. They let this one keep playing, but search through their own folders of recorded music to find another good one for Sora. This one's a little more upbeat, but that doesn't seem to detract from the emotion any.

Oof. Not a romantic relationship. But. Sora's got a thought or two about breaking things off with someone who defined... well. A lot of his soul. Or what's left of it, anyway.

Sora's gotten a lot of mileage out of the idea that they're not really dead in a way that matters. Just very far away from home, with no way to get back. On the other side of the coin, though... if you break things off with someone and intend to never look back, how different is that from death? Other than the finality of the separation, anyway. The phrase "dead to me" exists for a reason, after all.

But, uh. Sora's not sure if he's ready to let that thought out of his head quite yet. "You know, I never got a chance to ask," he says, flipping to a fresh page in his notebook. "Did you ever get more memories from the aurora? Good ones."

Soldat has never intentionally broken a relationship with anyone, that they can recall. Maybe. That One. Did with some of the girls he danced with, but it doesn't seem like they ever really mattered much, from this end of things. The only losses they've ever suffered had been involuntary.

Might be another reason this is so hard for them to deal with.

"Oh. Yeah. Eighteen total, good and bad. Though I smashed two." The ones with Words, like they mentioned last week in the church. They go back to sharpening their knives. "So there's sixteen left. Four from before the war. Three of those were good. One good one from after the war. Which was unexpected. Namine found that one."

Sora would not suggest this experience to them, but he also supposes that it's better than feeling nothing at all! Don't worry, if someone ended up breaking their heart, they'd have Sora to deal with! For what that's worth, anyway; Sora would probably just end up grumpy and emotional for their sake.

A firm nod at the smashing. Same opinion as last week: better off gone. "After?" This seems a bit weird to Sora, and the inclusion of Naminé in the story is a surprise! "Wait, what happened? Did she bring you one?"

"I know, weird, right? Wasn't expecting anything remotely good from being the Soldier." Soldat sets the knife down and heads for the stairs, to the little bag in their trunk by the bed where they keep the opals. They return a moment later with said opal, setting it on the table within Sora's reach. Willing to share it. "Naminé found it and returned it. Then found the memory for me with their names, because I didn't remember on my own."

The memory, should Sora choose to experience it, is this one. It may help explain why Soldat not only loves teaching, but is pretty damn good at it.

Sora would choose to experience it, thanks! Because he doesn't know what's good for him. And he sets down the stone directly afterward and puts his hands over his mouth and rests against the table for a moment, because it was sweet in its own way, but.

"They're so little," he says quietly. Yeah, that's the first thing he caught. He'll get to the rest later, promise, but he can't help that kneejerk reaction. They shouldn't have been there. Neither should Soldat. None of them should have been.

"Yeah, I know." Soldat collects the stone again, looking down at it sadly. "Wasn't right, what we did to them. Little girls shouldn't have to know how to kill people." Most people shouldn't have to know how to kill people.

They don't know what else they could have done, though. Every scenario they can come up with ends in death. They close their metal fingers over the stone, not activating it, but keeping it safe and close. "Was the only kinda love the Asset knew, though."

Sora thinks about his own little sister in that situation at any point, shakes his head. No. She would have died there. Too willful. Refused to be anyone but herself. (Kind of ran in the family, now that he thinks about it.)

"I hope they're okay. They really liked each other." They really liked you, Sora wants to say, but isn't sure if that's exactly true or not. "They liked the music." ... And wait, wait, oh! "You said you have their names now, right? 'Cause of Naminé." What were they?

"Lenushka, Mitrushka, Anishka. Yelena, Mitra, and Anya." A pause, then the explanation for two sets of names: "I gave them pet names. The first ones are Russian diminutives of their names. And. They knew I liked the music." Which they feel is important. It's a sign that maybe they loved the Asset, too, a little bit. Why else would they bother, every day, to give it music?

Which is even more sad, when they think about it. Which they do often. If the little girls had nothing in their lives to love but a big, forgetful bear of an assassin, what must the rest of their lives have been like?

"They cared about you," Sora repeats, and it's not too pleasant or kind. It's just the truth. It makes perfect sense to Sora, even if it's in sort of an abstract way. Kids are more willing to accept that things that shouldn't have hearts do. That's why imaginary friends exist and stuffed animals must be named, even if real people are there and tangible and give love back in more visible ways. The heart just sees things differently at that age, for better or for worse. Sora doesn't see anything wrong with that.

Sora nods, trying to at least keep the second names in mind. He doesn't want to stumble over the first set trying... and anyway, Sora's just had a thought. Stuffed animals must be named. "Do you remember what they called you," he asks. "Were you their teacher? Just... sir, I guess?"

"Probably just Soldier. Soldat," they translate, using the Russian the kids would have used, the name they've adopted now. It's still better than the English for it. "It's what the Russians called me. I doubt they used 'sir', nobody ever did." They were a thing, after all-- a tool. Maybe not to the girls, but to the guards, ever-present and ready to shoot them all if anyone stepped out of line. And that lesson stuck very well. "But I don't remember for sure, so that's just a guess."

Sora is very quiet for a moment, trying to measure up this situation. Time, place, location, context. How bad he wants this information, and if it's worth bringing up when Soldat was nonverbal when they first opened the door.

Did you have another name? Did you remember it then? Do you remember it now?

"Then that's okay," Sora says instead, swinging his legs as he starts writing another list. Letters he wants to send. "You can still love someone without knowing what their name is, I think. Or if the name isn't real. They definitely loved you for real, even if it was only for a little while."

Probably for the best. Bringing up that name would probably not go over well no matter what kind of mood Soldat is in. "Hope so." Since Sora doesn't know that name. Neither does Ellever. Neither did Aziraphale or Crowley. Misty does, but she claimed to love them before she knew.

"I have another memory stone," they say quietly, rolling this one between their hands. Now that the event is over, it doesn't activate without a fist closed around it, so it's just a small, stone-veined rock, for now. "Those three girls. Older. Teenagers. Told to test them. I didn't remember them, but they remembered me." And it made them ashamed even in the memory, even though they didn't know why, other than nobody should respect a murder machine like them.

Sora figures! Names are very important, after all. They connect people, they're given, they're created as disguises and new identities, they can change people. He understands that. It can wait. Sora can wait forever, if need be. He's kind of a child like that.

Test them, huh. Sora leaves off of his writing, crosses his arms and puts his chin on top of them. "What happened?" It seems like the only thing to ask for. He doesn't want to assume that they remembered what it was like to love their old teacher. Bonds fade. This is something Sora also understands.

Soldat makes an attempt at explaining, but words don't come. How do they even explain the way those kids looked at them? How that made them feel ashamed, rather than proud or pleased? How wrong it seemed?

Instead, after a moment of silent frowning at their hands, they go back upstairs to collect the second opal. Like before, they set it on the coffee table for Sora to pick up if he wants to.

Sora pops his head up a little bit to watch them leave, but then goes back to resting on his arms, staring into space a little. Just vibing until Soldat gets back. He figures they'll have an answer, and when they come back and set that stone down, Sora slaps his hand on top right away, confident that this will at least give context.

And it does. At least a bit. "That must have been confusing. No memories, nothing to work with. But something still didn't feel right, right?" Sora isn't saying this like he knows the answer. He doesn't, he's still tossing spare thoughts in the air! No, it's just sort of a... reevaluation. Getting them to walk him through the strange anxiety.

They nod quietly. Silently. Nothing ever felt right unless it was the familiar rails: mission prep, mission briefing, gear up, travel to the mission site, kill someone. Even that. Not right. Just... the way it was supposed to be. The way it had to be, in order to be finished and go back to cryo.

"Nothing to admire," is what comes out, staring at their hands, folded between their knees. Still true, ain't it. Couldn't stop Crowley and Aziraphale from dying, from going away. Couldn't stop Scarlett. Couldn't stop hurting Steve until it was too late.

Oh. That's shame, then. Sora feels like he doesn't need to explain that to them. It's more like... Sora thinks for a moment. He has the feeling in his head, but the words aren't coming for either the problem or the solution. They need a way to cope with the fact that they're an unwilling creation that had no greater purpose than to murder and that people they cared for wanted to be like them. Because they admired them. So... guilt.

Sora puts his head down and closes his eyes. He can't relate, not at all. He can't really absolve them of guilt, either. All he can do is feel for them. (In the classical sense, not the other one.)

"You were someone who was there for them when there could have been no one at all. Or just each other." He opens his eyes. In that moment, what they had in that bond was real, Sora thinks. It was fleeting, but how long a bond lives isn't a factor in whether it was real. Or important. "What happened after that was out of your control. They were... planning on that, probably. On them wanting to be like someone who cared about them." Sora's voice goes down to a hush. "Evil people are smart. It's not like they don't know how the heart works. They do. They just don't care about whether they hurt or not. They're tools to them, even though hearts aren't tools. And the way they used those bonds isn't your fault."

"So I was just one more method of control." They hadn't even looked at it that way, not really capable of seeing it from that angle from the inside until now, but Sora makes sense. Not only did those kids get someone to teach them who was better than everyone else, they got-- a role model. Something that cared about them, that they could care about back... something that did exactly as it was told.

Soldat stares at the opal in Sora's hand, expressionless. "Sometimes I wish those fuckers from HYDRA were here so I could kill them all again."

Sora puts the rock down and looks back at them. It's not pretty, but Sora's been used like that before. Not in the same way, but it's close. It's getting easier to see how and when it happens, even for a dummy like him.

Sora keeps staring at them levelly. "Me too," he says finally, but it's sad. "They won't stop, will they?"

He knows and is definitely angry about what they've done, and he understands that this is deeply personal to Soldat... but this isn't his fight, so the next best thing he can think of is figure out how to cause the least harm. This is it. This is the least harm. Funny how coming to the same conclusion as Soldat makes him sad.

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