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

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

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.

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It's not far along in the month when Pudding doesn't show up to make breakfast. Or to help with lunch.

After lunch, though, when he's cleaned up and is back on his way home to rest - a few days is plenty of time for Pudding to learn someone's home schedule - Soldat will see a familiar pink light peek out of the door to the B&B. There she is!

And, in the lantern light, her cheeks and forehead are clearly streaked wet.

"Soldat? Soldat can I talk to you before you sleep, I'm sorry, it's just... no one else is here right now and I need to talk to you, if that's okay, I hope that's okay -"

She's very, very clearly in a state to keep rambling until she's stopped.

Soldat's schedule is ridiculously easy to learn. She probably picked it up the very first day. (Which was probably actually at least a week ago, now.)

They stop short at her expression and voice, blinking a few times. "Uh. Yeah. Yes, sure, of course." They can probably honestly guess at least some of what this is about. They spent a whole afternoon a couple days ago looking for Fjord, and they know she and Fjord were friends, too. They can sympathize, and once the surprise filters into intelligent thought, they make sure their voice and expression soften a little, for her. "My room? Yours?" For comfort and privacy, in case Javert or Misty come home. They can put off sleep a little while.

Pudding shakes her head, not at anything Soldat says, or does, it just. Happens. She tries wiping her eyes with the back of her wrist, but doesn't accomplish much. "Mine's fine. Thank you." Her voice is thick, edged a little toward her put-on softer persona, only because that's easier to control - she has a lifetime of experience controlling herself while crying on command.

But. Her room. Her room because if Soldat feels the need to get up and run from her it shouldn't be out of his own.

Fuck, that makes everything worse; she's already had the thought but having it break upon her again, here, while he's here, just redoubles... everything. She grits her teeth, choking down back a noise in the back of her throat until she can make it to her room, set her lantern down on the vanity, and sob.

It breaks out of her as soon as both her hands are free to hold over her face, press against the eyes she feels like she'll cry right out of her head. Loud awful cries and hiccups, wails, wracking her whole torso, for the third or fourth time today.

"Fjord's gone," she chokes, almost immediately. No need for Soldat to have to coax it out of her; she's already had her nonverbal, inconsolable sobbing, alone. "He hasn't been in for breakfast and he's not answering messages and I haven't seen him in days and he's just gone, isn't he?"

Oh no. Oh hell. Soldat hovers just inside the bedroom door, awkward and worried. They've hugged three people in his stint here, two when they were crying. Not even sobbing like this, just quiet tears. But none of them have been teenaged girls and they're really not sure if hugging is allowed here. Or if they could handle the sobbing so close, all that shaking and noise sounds like it might wind them in a freakout, and that won't help anybody.

They inch closer to put a hand on her shoulder, at least. That's okay. They know that's safe and it might help her. "Probably. I haven't been able to find him, either. And I've been looking out further than you go. I'm sorry. I know you were friends."

The sobs stop, for a moment, at that touch. Her head snaps up, all eyes wide and wet to look at him. That's - is that okay? Making him feel the need to touch her, being a problem for him like this already when - stop. Stop. Stop it. He touched her knee that once, to make her feel better, this is okay.

For now. For now, this is okay.

The shock only shakes her to a standstill for that moment though, and then her eyes screw back up and she presses her fists at the two "normal" ones to try to press the pressure out, to scrape at tears that didn't stop flowing even when the rest of her startled.

"We were friends - we were friends" - her voice wavers and rasps so much on that word - "and he was good to me and I hurt him, and I can't fix it, I can't take it back, if I could find his lantern and fix it I could take it back and I could say I'm sorry but I can't find it and I looked so hard, I tried, I really tried!"

They nod a little at her worried look. It's okay. They can do this, and she doesn't seem to mind. They even keep their hand there, moving it only to pet slowly from nape to the edge of her shoulder a few times. "Pudding. I'm sure he'd forgive you. Knowing you felt so badly about it, I'm sure he would." They can't imagine anything she could have done that would be that bad, that Fjord wouldn't understand and let it go again.

"But I'm a monster!" Bakemono. All the horrible words ever said to her about her eye, and they all turned out to be right - just, about the wrong thing. "I can't stop hurting people, it's easy, it's easier than being good, what if I'm just like this?" The touch, though, god, she appreciates it so much. And the guilt wracks up higher in her chest for that, too - for Soldat to be stepping outside his comfort zone to comfort her -

They do remember her saying she'd done awful things before dying. It's okay, Soldat did awful things, too. This, they get, because this is something Misty and Sora and Javert and everyone keep trying to tell them. (Hey. And you, too, Sarge. Damn straight.)

So they know what they'd been told, here. "You're not just like this. It's just what you're used to. Yeah? Sometimes you'll slip up because the bad stuff is what's familiar. You just gotta keep trying." They pet again. "Even if maybe sometimes you gotta go punch trees to keep from punching people. Or whatever it is you'd normally do."

Pudding swallows, though it sticks in her throat a little on the way down. She wants to laugh, even just a little, at the suggestion - the image - of punching trees instead of people. So that's how Soldat blows off steam, hm?

But her throat is too tight, and she shakes her head a little as she tries valiantly to clean the slowing tears out of her eyes.

"I..." He'll never want to look at her after this.

But he was friends with Fjord, too, wasn't he?

If she can't tell Fjord what she did...

"I hurt people like those doctors hurt you."

The twitch back actually happens at the word "doctor", before Soldat's even processed what she means. They blink a few times, hand hovering in the air now, looking vaguely alarmed as the words sink in. "What?"

Pudding... tortures people...? Tests their pain tolerance? Kills and revives them? (She did that to Fjord? But that doesn't make sense. He'd not be her friend if. Ready to comply. Fuck.) Did she make-- Words? Program people? Wipe memories? The doctors did a lot, and now Soldat's brain is now running in panicked little circles of what all that could mean, awaiting some kind of confirmation.

She expects it. She expects it, and doesn't even flinch. Doesn't turn to look at him.

Pudding sniffs hard, once. Looks down at her hands. It'd be so easy, even now -

- no, it wouldn't. Soldat is far faster than she is, has much better reflexes. It's why she's telling him like this. Outright. Not facing him. She can't give into the impulse if she wouldn't be able to pull it off if she tried.

"I don't need equipment for it. I can just - reach inside people's heads and pull their memories right out."

She flicks her wrist, snapping her hand easily into a perfect-form knife hand. The swish is audible.

"It's easy. I just pull out the reel of film in their heads, and edit it how I like." She does laugh now, once, the sound hollow. "It doesn't even matter how mean or crass I am while I do it, because it's not like they'll remember anyway."

That. Definitely clears that up. Soldat's hand stays where it is because moving it would require thinking about it, in mid-air, until she makes that weird gesture, and then they step instinctively back. There's the fear. It's perhaps Soldat's biggest fear, losing what they've finally started to get back, which is really saying something because Soldat is afraid of a lot.

"And you've done it here. To Fjord." To anyone else? (To us?) The fear doesn't show in their voice, except in that all expression has dropped from it. It's not a shut-down, not exactly, but it probably sounds like what Pudding saw of one during her rage at them during the floods.

Yes, if Pudding tried anything right now, she'd wind up with a broken wrist.

Pudding stays carefully, perfectly still when Soldat moves. He's a warrior, she'd know that about him if she'd never spoken a word to him. And, he has split-second reaction time. She absolutely is not about to provoke him.

(She uses that stillness to swallow the snivel that wants to pull back up onto her face.)

Her hand loosens, both pulling up to fold over her chest just below her throat. "Yes. To Fjord." And she hates herself for it.

That's new to her. Regret, in the first place, over using this power. She especially never expected to hurt like this from wishing she hadn't.

"It was petty and self-serving and stupid, just to save face, and now I can't - I can't undo it, and I like him, he's my friend, and I've never wanted to give the memories back before and now I can't do it. I'm - terrible. I'm a bad person. And I ca-can't fix it." Fuck, shut up, tears, you're not welcome here right now!

"If you never wanna come near me again I'll understand. I can move somewhere else. I can make sure breakfast is cleaned up before you come in to make lunch. I'll stay out of your way."

Edited 2020-07-22 11:42 (UTC)

There's a long pause while Soldat processes. Compares reactions to previous reactions. Compares her to the other two people they've met who could alter memory, or at least bring memories back. Tries to wrestle terror back under control. Namine didn't frighten them quite this much, but then, Namine had also kind of upset them, which might have helped. She had the same sweetness-and-light demeanor as Pudding's prime persona, only Soldat couldn't find any signs of the trauma underneath that she swore she went through. It made them worry that it was just hiding more deeply. And worry that they were somehow lesser because they were so clearly fucked up by similar sorts of problems and she wasn't.

This, from Pudding, is almost reassuring in that way. They can both be fucked up. Soldat isn't the only one. "Pudding. I'm afraid of everyone. Even you. Even before I knew this. That doesn't stop me from liking people. Or talking to them. Or cooking with them."

They take a slow breath, bracing. This might be harder for her than moving or avoiding them, but they have to ask. Have to try. "But I would like you promise that you won't do that again. Won't take memories without permission. Can you promise me that."

Edited (flat tone still, no questioning lilt) 2020-07-22 22:43 (UTC)

Comically, cartoonishly even, Pudding's lowered head snaps upright in surprise, even though she doesn't dare turn. Soldat's -

Afraid?

Of her?

...Of anything, honestly? She wouldn't have expected that.

...Well. Then again, how long did she fool even herself - maybe especially herself - into thinking she wasn't afraid of anything anymore?

She's known that Soldat has triggers, protective responses, but she wouldn't have expected those to equate to fear.

Her hands tighten, one squeezing the other, listening but contemplating.

If it's... if it's okay for Soldat to be scared... if he can be scared and still do everything he does...

He asks for her promise, and her jaw sets, mouth tightens until it hurts, and when she tries to swallow, she finds her mouth and throat too tight and dry to work her palate enough.

"I don't... I don't know if I can. I want to - want to promise, I mean, I - I don't want to... I don't want to hurt people I like, but I've never had anybody I like before, and I don't - know how to do this."

She doesn't even hear the admission, to have never had anyone she likes, anyone she cares about. There are a couple exceptions, but siblings and homunculi who know her "real," nasty personality hardly count, especially for this. She knows very well how fucked up that is, has pointedly not told a single person here that she's never had actual friends. But it just falls out with the rest; the rest is far more important.

"What if I promise and I still... what if I really am just like this?"

The admission hardly even phases them. It's not like they don't know that feeling, surrounded by actual hostiles on all sides, not just people who make you nervous. Not remembering what it feels like to like someone. There wasn't much to like among handlers and techs. They're re-learning that, and that means so can she. Maybe it'll be slow, maybe there will be set-backs.

"Then. You admit to it, apologize, make it right. And try again to be better." They look at the back of her head a moment, then offer, "You can change what you're like. If you really don't want to be that way. It's just behavior. You can change that."

This time, Pudding manages that hard swallow. It takes work, her tongue and soft palate dry and swollen, but she sets her jaw and works her throat and takes a measured, slow breath through both lips and mouth.

Can she really change this?

Just behavior. (Programming.)

. . .

Does she want to change this?

It's easier, isn't it - just being like she's been her whole life. It's not like anyone has to know. (Even Soldat, if she can't reach in and pull this back out, now or later (sometime when he's sleeping maybe (it would be easy enough to slip a little sleep-inducing something into a drink or snack with how hungry he always is)), he wouldn't have to know what she did to anyone else if she never said. This could be a one-off, this could be a fluke, even a mean and terrible lie for attention because she's fucked up over Fjord -)

Fjord. Not like Fjord had to know, had to remember her fuckups, had to remember her horrible face -

(Soldat isn't bothered by her face.)

She only realizes she'd been holding that breath when her lungs protest and it blows back out again in a rush, a couple quick coughs through her sticky throat.

Shit.

"Can you help me?"

She still doesn't turn. Kind of doesn't dare.

"Can you help me learn to be better?"

What kind of a question is that. Jesus, Pudding. "I'm already trying. Not gonna stop now."

Good luck drugging them, though, kiddo. That eating thing isn't just from dying that second time. Soldat burns through drugs fast, and they've been drugged so many times they'd recognize the sensation pretty fast, too.

But Soldat's made a promise, now, and they're going to get started on it. For her sake and their own-- the easier she finds changing for the better, the less threat there is to their memories. (Maybe we'll... go write this down. Right after this. Yes.) So they ask, "What do you need. To make it easier to keep your promise."

Pudding shakes her head, causing a few wavering tears at the edges of her eyes to spill, tracking down her cheeks and nose and pattering onto her dress. "I don't know. I don't know how to fix me." Her hands are clamped so tight to her chest that her sternum aches.

"I - I promise. I promise I'll try to be better. I..." This feels like a lie. It feels like a lie and it's hard and it's scary but if it's what she needs to do to be better, to stay Soldat's friend, to actually be real friends with anybody at all...

The breath she sucks in shudders.

"I promise I won't take anybody's memories without permission again."

Her fucking throat closes. One hand claps over her mouth to try to hold back a retch. The words are foul on her tongue, spiky in her throat, and her third eye clenches shut so hard it sees spots. She doesn't know how to do this. Doesn't know how to make that not be a lie. Doesn't know how to... how to protect herself without it.

God, what am I even doing?

"Thank you, Pudding," they say quietly. "That helps."

There's a pause, then the sound of footsteps, first to one side, then, slowly and haltingly, towards her. A warm weight drops onto her shoulders-- a quilt from the bed. Soldat can't touch her, not right now, maybe not for a while. But they can make a substitute for touch. It's the best they can manage, right now, but by god they're trying.

And that's the thing, after all. She's got backup, now. She doesn't have to protect herself alone, anymore. "I'll try to help you keep your promise. If you get tempted. If you. Think it's your only way to fix something. Call me up. Come find me. We'll talk it through. Figure out something better, that won't hurt anyone."

Pudding's head turns fractionally at the sound of steps toward her. Not enough to turn and look at him, and the rest of her doesn't shift; just enough to let him know she hears him coming, she won't be startled. Though, her teary eyes widen, breath pulling deeply between her lips - behind that hand - unobstructed, suddenly, with her throat clear instead of tight.

She understands. If she hated touch as much as he does, she wouldn't wanna touch her ever again either. But he's still - he still got close enough to do this. Reflexes and strength and actual danger notwithstanding, no, it's about comfort and (she can still barely believe) fear... and he stepped that close to her anyway.

The tight clamp twisted to the end of the pin in her chest loosens.

She listens to him talk, and god, he's so sweet. He's so good.

Why was no one at home ever this good?

She takes a slow breath, pulling the quilt snug around herself.

"I get scared."

...That'll be the smallest Soldat's ever heard her voice sound.

"Most of the time... at home... it was planned out. It was part of a strategy, or at least a contingency. But sometimes..."

She bites her lip. Brushes fingers up along her forehead, just tickling at eyelashes.

"Fjord saw my eye." There's a waver in her voice, now. "The way he looked at me..."

Soldat could ask that very same question. Why was no one out in the world good? (Steve.) Okay, why were so few of them good? The people in Beacon have been kind and patient and helpful, understanding and gentle with an awkward, broken thing like them. If they'd had people like that...

... it wouldn't have mattered, really. Because they wouldn't remember them. Nothing would have changed unless those good people got him out. Maybe it's the same for Pudding.

"And you thought. It would be the same as everyone from your world. Yeah? Because that's all you know. But Beacon isn't like what either of us know, is it."

Pudding swallows hard, nods slowly, still without looking back at Soldat. "I ran. To start. I didn't want to hear him say it. But I forgot my lantern. I fell. And... I'm fucking terrible. Like, looking back, he was just... worried. Because I ran away in the dark. But all I heard was him telling me not to yell and saying he freaked out when he saw it and I just..."

She gestures vaguely, away from Soldat, and nothing like her motion from before.

"I just ripped it out so I wouldn't have to hear him call me an ugly three-eyed monster."

Soldat is quiet a moment, thinking. "You know. When people say the word. 'Doctor'. And I'm not expecting it? I freak out. Even though I know that there aren't any, I know that most of them aren't going to hurt me or anyone else anyway. It's programming, too. Not my fault. Not anyone else's, who's here. Fault if the doctors at HYDRA." They crouch, closer to her level, but still ready to move just in case. "But I'm getting better. Because I keep hearing it. And knowing it's the wrong reaction."

That's so many damn words. They have to stop and regroup. Maybe she'll get what they mean without further elaboration. Maybe they'll have to continue-- they'll see in a minute, after they scrub the flesh hand on their cheek, as if to help it recover from so much talking.

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

II, a little after they're suddenly newly housemates!

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