Family and Attempts at De-Escalation (June Catch-All)

[worthallthis]

characters: Bucky/Soldat and OPEN
location: All over
date/time: Most of June
content: Dealing with various developments
warnings: The usual swearing and disassociation, probable awkwardness


I. Growing Family - Early June - Closed to Misty and Javert

The idea starts late in May, but it takes until the first couple days of June to get things ready-- and to work up the courage to do it. Soldat brings Javert to the mostly-repaired bed and breakfast, with its small rooms and welcoming air and Misty-- who has been warned, at least, that Soldat is hoping to add a new resident.

So it's only really a surprise for Javert when they open the door and say, "Sir." Even as friends, now, the title hasn't gone away. It's practically an endearment, at this point. "I don't want you to be alone. There's a room for you here."


II. Like Always - Open

For most of the month, it's same old same old: Soldat follows their usual routine, does a whole lot of building projects with Javert and Jason and anyone else who seems to need help, and teaching and sparring at the new location, the armory, three times a week. (Seven times a week, technically, since they go on non-class days just for themselves.)

People can run into them at any of those places, if anyone wants to chat, get them to help with something, learn how to defend themselves, or just catch up!


III. Nope Number 1 - Labs

They try to make themselves go to the labs. Really, they do. It doesn't even look like a lab, not really, not from the outside, and there's no actual doctor inside anymore. So surely they could work out some way to help. But appearances apparently don't count for much, and the knowledge that someone brought them back from the dead inside, pieced them back together, hovered over them while they were unconscious-- the fear won't go away. Every time they get within a few feet of the door, they just stop and tremble and finally bolt.

But they do manage to get up to the door itself once, long enough to drop a box off, full of records on the portal, courtesy of Pluto. They even actually knock on the door, and then take several steps back, hoping someone comes to get it before a spirit decides it's good nesting material or something.


IV. Nope Number 2 - Masks

Soldat does visit the mask-making party, but between the weird parade-like music and the realization that the spirits want them to put something on their face... they nope out pretty quick. Literally: the materials in their hand drop (those the spasmodic fisting of the metal hand didn't crush, anyway) and back hastily away, out of the group.

They kind of hover around the edges now and then, watching people having fun making things. They start off wishing they weren't such a goddamn nutcase, but by the time people are dancing and getting picked up into a... parade-like group... they're kind of glad. And a little worried.


V. Nope Number 3 - Violence

Even under normal circumstances, Soldat monitors their behavior and internal reactions to things pretty closely, both for their own attempts to understand why they do the things they do, and to keep others safe from their occasional blow-ups and freak-outs. To try and head off blow-ups and freak-outs before they actually start.

So when they feel the urge to lash out at someone-- anyone-- they stop and breathe and think of folding paper.

It doesn't help. It just makes them more frustrated.

(Yesssss..)

The fury takes an edge of panic, and they flee for the inn-- not the bed and breakfast where he, Misty, and Javert are staying, but the inn, where the walls are sturdier and there are empty rooms to hide in. Several people (Misty, Javert, Sora, Pudding, and Rosinante) get a text message: Not safe. Please don't try to find me.

For the next couple days, until things settle inside their own head, they keep inside their chosen prison room at the top of the inn, pacing and growling under their breath and talking with the Sergeant and the Asset and even the goddamn Bottomless Pit, doing strength training and knife throws to wear themselves out, and wrestling with extremely violent nightmares. But the Winter Soldier has a lot of practice at keeping quiet and out of the way while full of bewildered fury, and now they have people they don't want to hurt, so while it sucks, they stay put. No coming out. Not even to eat.


VI. No More Nopes - Post-event

By the time Soldat emerges, they've eaten all the paper they had on their person, chewed through both pens they carry, and spent some time gnawing on bedclothes and their own fingernails, which are down to the quick and kind of hurt now, and the serum has no fuel to really fix that with. Their shoulder hurts a whole damn lot, too.

They make a hasty patrol, looking for anyone who might need help, trying to ascertain if anything changed, largely unaware that everyone was experiencing the same problems they were.

And then they visit the scrapyard, and set about making a new accessory: a thin but well-made metal chain, clearly strong enough to withstand super-soldier tugging and chewing, with several tabs of various materials hanging from it like charms. On patrol or in class or even making lunch with the scant ingredients left, they can be seen idly chewing on the tabs, keeping their mouth busy so they can't fucking eat anything on accident.

It might look kind of silly, but hey, it works.

Comments

[worthallthis]

Soldat doesn't twitch. They'd heard her footsteps, her approaching heartbeat. The smile turns briefly on her, for her equally brief appearance. "Misty. Thank you." Then, after she retreats, they add, "Sir, have you been introduced? I know you've. You've both been around, as long as I have, but." But actually knowing her, speaking to her-- Soldat hasn't seen it, but they're not as all-knowing regarding their (former) handlers as they'd like to be, really.

All they know for sure is Misty helped heal the survivors of the mission that killed them, downtown. Whether she actually helped Javert in particular they don't know.

[policier]

Javert composes himself at once, reaching for the brim of his hat at the sight of the woman in the doorway. She disappears before she can take notice, but he takes it off regardless. His posture resumes its military-like rigor, hands at his sides, he answers crisply,

"We have not." He wasn't much in the mood for talking, then. It took some doing to even get him to sit still, never mind get his wounds tended to. He doesn't make a move toward the hall, instead allowing Soldat to go first.

[worthallthis]

"You don't need to do that," Soldat says after a pause and a blink. They recognize the clear change in demeanor. "She's good. I promise. And if you do that every time you see her, it's going to get exhausting. Since she lives here, too."

They know. They've been there. And it was exhausting. They still do it with some people, after all.

"Come on. There's not much food, but there's a little. And if you don't have a little. She'll be disappointed."

[policier]

"Forgive me, then. I would not be so familiar with a stranger."

Despite everything Soldat's told him of her, despite their friendship, and his trust in him, it doesn't feel right. He's often quite stiff around those he doesn't know, unless they are irritating criminals themselves, and he doesn't know Misty as well as Soldat does. He doesn't argue the point about eating, though, his demeanor a little more passive and agreeable, falling silent.

[worthallthis]

"Then we'll have to make it so she's not a stranger. It's okay if it takes some time," Soldat decides. They lead him back into the little kitchen, and it's only their general aversion to touch that keeps them from grabbing his wrist to bring him along, like a child dragging their friend to some new experience. There's something of that to their demeanor, though, when they reach it, even still. "What did you scrounge up, Misty?"

[shadowsran]

Finishing slowly with the plating and place-setting process, she peeks up in the midst of filling the last of three bowls.

"Jambalaya," she answers simply. Easy enough to conjure one iteration or another, filling, serves multiple people comfortably. And bread, which doesn't feel hard enough to prepare or important enough to merit mention. They'll spot it. And once she recalls - still getting accustomed to more people around - she hastens to clarify, "Not spicy. I don't add anything for that until I know somebody's tolerance for it."

For, you know, Javert's hypothetical benefit.

[policier]

"Thank you," he answers mildly, stumbling over his words a bit at the end so he doesn't address her too formally. He's trying. It doesn't feel right to treat Soldat's dear friend without respect, though, and so when he approaches the table, hat still in his hand as he takes off his gloves, he does so stiffly and without taking a seat.

"I would not know. I've never had it before." He's not picky, however, and the smell of the dish alone promises that it will be good.

[worthallthis]

"Rice, meat, vegetables," Soldat explains. "Usually some spices. But not today. Though I'm not sure what kind of meat it's gonna be. We're running really low on that." Rice, they have, because it stretches well. Canned veggies, there's still some left. But meat? They're impressed she found some.

[shadowsran]

"Spices for flavor," she clarifies, "Just not heat. I won't make someone fight a meal, but anything completely unseasoned is a little sad." The surprise is noted, met with a bitten back grin and bow of her head. Javert is evidently no guest, but the principles on treating them still ought to apply. With this settled, she sinks into her seat.

"There's not much rhyme or reason to meals now, weird as the variety of cooks is getting. Hating one thing will probably mean liking another, we're all getting a rhythm for it."

[policier]

"You needn't worry about that, mademoiselle. There is very little I won't eat."

Growing up poor and living a life of privations leaves little room for him to be picky. The only thing he is not fond of is sweets, but there's nothing of the sort here. The meal itself is almost a little too indulgent for him, but he doesn't say so, taking a seat only after Misty has taken hers. He sets his gloves and hat aside, and removes his coat, his appearance a little less severe without it.

"Soldat has told me of you, and that you have taught him how to cook."

[worthallthis]

Settling into a chair when Misty does, too, Soldat puts in, "And she's the one who decided to fix up this house. Since the old cabin was ruined in the flood. And really, too far away for safety, now." Misty makes good decisions, is what they're trying to say here. They lean over to start serving everyone, since Misty made it and Javert clearly isn't going to start.

[shadowsran]

"Thank you." Directed to Soldat, for both serving and, she expects, making some attempt to talk her up. "I don't know about too far from safety, but fixing up's always going to be easier than flat-out rebuilding. And Soldat helped, don't let him duck away from any credit."

[policier]

"It's a fine house," he agrees, pleasant and polite, and since Misty insists, he adds, "You've both done well to tend to it."

Soldat wise to take the initiative in serving. They may have been waiting all evening for Javert otherwise. He plays with the cutlery along the side of his plate as the other man portions the food, arranging them so that they're in a perfectly neat row before asking,

"Will it still serve as an inn? I suppose there's little use for it when there's no newcomers arriving."

[shadowsran]

"Nail on the head," Misty concedes, with a nod. "Part of the reason it seemed fair moving in. Better someone be getting use out of it, you know? Maybe if things are fixed up and there's some other cabin to head to-- or we could just build additions," this dips toward stream of consciousness, thinking aloud, "Nothing as complicated as bathrooms, but extra bedrooms aren't especially complicated. We'd have the summer to think on it before the weather turned on us."

A beat.

"Again."

Another.

"Hopefully."

[worthallthis]

"Pudding still lives here, too, so there's only one extra room. It's really more like an actual home now," Soldat admits. "Than an inn. Even if the kitchen is tiny." They set full bowls in front of Javert and Misty, respectively. Misty then gets a sympathetic nudge before they serves themselves-- with luck the weather won't do that to them again until the spring. (Or at all.)

[policier]

"I know the girl." Not well, mind you, but in a few weeks, at least, he'll be getting to know the pointy end of her blade a little better. He doesn't take a bite of the food just yet, waiting instead for Soldat to finish serving himself before picking up his fork.

"An addition would be simple matter, once we are able to retrieve supplies again. I could help. Perhaps we could even make the kitchen a little larger." Since Javert may be the only housemate here who doesn't cook.

[shadowsran]

"That'd be a relief. People here before weren't cooks and we weren't imagining so many people here full-time." It's entirely livable, but being a long-term settlement means it ought to extend more toward comfortable. "Those poor cabinets won't survive us all otherwise."

A good topic, productivity. Lighter.

[worthallthis]

"Especially since Pudding cooks, too." Soldat settles down with a full plate, now, and half a smile. "Gonna have to make a schedule. Or else we'll all try to make something the same night. Get in each other's way. Maybe expanding is a good idea."

[policier]

Javert frowns a bit, more so at the idea of everyone cooking at once, and all the food that it would create and that he may be required to eat, but he doesn't argue. He says, "You needn't include me in your schedule. I will be content enough to help with the dishes, if I must."

Which isn't to say he's incapable of cooking. He can, he just chooses not to, and prefers that someone else do it.

[shadowsran]

"I think with the number of busybodies around you wouldn't even be held to that much," Misty muses, after her first forkful's swallowed. "Can't speak for Pudding, but I know from experience Soldat and I keep a pretty neat kitchen."

Habit, maybe. It's a nice benefit to prior roommateship.

"And if we're champing at the bit to cook, you wouldn't be indebted or anything for eating."

No chore toll, is her real point. Provided no one makes a mess of the place or destroys it, it seems fair.

[worthallthis]

"Cooking is as much for us as it is for anybody else," Soldat agrees mildly, and digs into their own dinner. "It's relaxing," they say between bites, always careful to swallow first. They are a polite murder machine. "Dishes sometimes, too. Aziraphale. Before. He would use his magic to clean them all the time. I finally had to ask him to stop."

[policier]

It still doesn't seem right to him, but their insistence leaves little room for Javert to say otherwise. He takes a few slow, measured bites of the food, his head down and looking away in a humbled sort of awkwardness. "If you insist. I do not wish to overstep."