[ Bucky snorts. Yeah, he has some fuzzy memories of that. His favorite was the judgmental look on Great Value Cap's face when they were indulging while not on a mission. ]
Did we sleep together that night? I remember passing out on the bed, but everything's blank past that.
Yeah, you're right. I wasn't at the time. Or, I didn't think I was until it hit me you were leaving.
[ It doesn't make a lot of rational sense, but connections like this rarely do. There just seems to be something intangible between them, something undefined (or at least, unable to be defined traditionally. Bucky doesn't really want to psychoanalyze himself or why they're practically attached at the hip now. ]
[He breathes out a sigh and turns his head slowly to look at Bucky, thoughtful. Now is hardly the time to psychoanalyze anything, delve into reasons, or wonder how healthy any of this is.
Not as close as they are to-- a possible end.]
I had not felt that... normal in a very long time, as a matter of fact. The same applies to our current situation as well. Living with you... remembering what it is like to have company outside of my own and a cell.
It sounds so wrong like that but nothing about it is factually incorrect. Zemo does in fact sleep with Bucky, in his home-- hell, he even keeps clothing, food, and toiletries there!
Okay so they're living together. Or maybe Zemo is living with Bucky. It's all a bit much to analyze. So he opts not to. ]
Yeah, it kind of makes me feel like I didn't actually miss out, you know? I'm getting the chance to really live my life this time.
[He is fully aware that Bucky's home is not his, not in the sense that his Riga home is his. He wouldn't ever make a presumption like that... but it is nice, to be allowed to stay for now.
He wishes they were there now, actually.
Debating dinner, talking-- even making certain that Bucky catches up on modern cinema is enjoyable in its own way.
This-- not so much.]
Well, some would say that it is about time you did.
[ Zemo's not wrong: Bucky might have been born over a century ago, but counting all the actual non-freezer time he's been walking around, he's still thirty-something. Not far behind really (and only on a technicality). ]
I dunno, this feels like grief to me.
[ He kicks a piece of rubble to punctuate the comment. ]
[He lets out a sigh and rolls his shoulders, trying to ease out some of the tension.]
Although I suppose it isn't quite that. No scheduled meals, no guards looking for reasons to remind others who is in charge, none of the usual scheduled monotony. Just-- nothing beyond the knowledge we are trapped.
[He's not certain which is worse, to be honest.]
I was trained to withstand the worst tortures, to endure pain and starvation and any mental abuse that could be thrown my way. Still, I found myself questioning my own sanity at times in that cell. Even more so when so many lives were taken away and mine was not among them. It seemed rather cruel.
[He tilts his head back, though his eyes stray to Bucky.]
[ So he survived the Snap. Cruelty wouldn't even begin to describe that, Bucky thinks. The disappointment of not being able to finally reunite with his family, the starvation for even monotonous human contact...the desperate, wild relief when everything suddenly reset.
Bucky can't help but extend his hand between them, palm up. ]
[He looks over at the movement, managing a brief smile before he takes Bucky's hand. He gives it a slight squeeze.
No, he supposes he's not alone, not yet. But they aren't in the best of predicaments right now.]
Neither of us are at the moment, that much is true.
[He hesitates for a brief moment before he lets his head tip back, hit against the wall they're leaning against with a dull thud.]
I am not certain that's how I would prefer things. I would rather you be out there.
[Whether that's because Bucky could have potentially saved him from this predicament a lot easier or because he'd just rather not see the man die quite like this, it doesn't need to be delved into or said, does it?]
[ there are half a dozen reasons why a secondary exit makes sense, not the least of which is basic fire safety. But bad guys aren't exactly OSHA-compliant as a rule, so Bucky just has to hope that whoever carved this place into a rock had some level of competency.
They walk, shuffle, and clamber through narrow corridors and rubble blockades. Minutes pass, maybe half an hour. Progress is slow, but right as they hit a juncture, Bucky pauses. ]
[At least not these sorts of bad guys, but Zemo is willing to look. It's better than sitting and growing more claustrophobic by the second, or waiting for all of the ghosts to catch up to them.
His attention is drawn towards Bucky at the question, brows furrowed.]
What is it?
[His attention is drawn towards one of the corridors.]
[ But he's too preoccupied with watching the strand, waiting to see if it some burst of air disturbs it. After what feels like an eternity (yet just before he's about to discard the thing entirely in frustration), the end flutters. ]
[There's sudden urgency, something that feels like hope that he doesn't quite want to feel. It never goes terribly well, letting one buy too much into childish hopes or fantasies.]
[ Bucky scrambles after him, clawing over and through rubble in a nearly desperate rush. As he pulls at some rebar protruding from the wall, bending it to keep it from stabbing them, he feels a rumble.
Bucky stops, waiting for the building to stop shuddering and settle. ]
the shaking sends a jolt right to his very core. His eyes go towards the ceiling as if he's expecting it all to come falling on them, buried alive.
He is not an easy man to scare, but for a moment, all he can think about is his family encased in rubble, how it felt to dig them out, how it felt to see--]
James, stop. Just-- stop for a moment.
[He needs to think at least, consider this-- predicament.
[ Bucky pants, nearly frantic with the wild instinct to run and get free. His body is starting to vibrate with the adrenaline, they don't have time for this- ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Daniel looks cute when he smiles ok /shallow
Did we sleep together that night? I remember passing out on the bed, but everything's blank past that.
He does!
No, but I would be lying if I said it had not crossed my mind. I did not think you were interested at the time, however.
[Hadn't he been proven wrong there?]
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Yeah, you're right. I wasn't at the time. Or, I didn't think I was until it hit me you were leaving.
[ It doesn't make a lot of rational sense, but connections like this rarely do. There just seems to be something intangible between them, something undefined (or at least, unable to be defined traditionally. Bucky doesn't really want to psychoanalyze himself or why they're practically attached at the hip now. ]
It was nice to feel normal for a few hours.
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[He breathes out a sigh and turns his head slowly to look at Bucky, thoughtful. Now is hardly the time to psychoanalyze anything, delve into reasons, or wonder how healthy any of this is.
Not as close as they are to-- a possible end.]
I had not felt that... normal in a very long time, as a matter of fact. The same applies to our current situation as well. Living with you... remembering what it is like to have company outside of my own and a cell.
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It sounds so wrong like that but nothing about it is factually incorrect. Zemo does in fact sleep with Bucky, in his home-- hell, he even keeps clothing, food, and toiletries there!
Okay so they're living together. Or maybe Zemo is living with Bucky. It's all a bit much to analyze. So he opts not to. ]
Yeah, it kind of makes me feel like I didn't actually miss out, you know? I'm getting the chance to really live my life this time.
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He wishes they were there now, actually.
Debating dinner, talking-- even making certain that Bucky catches up on modern cinema is enjoyable in its own way.
This-- not so much.]
Well, some would say that it is about time you did.
[And Zemo hopes he gets to continue it.]
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[ He mock-huffs, exaggerating a dramatic clutch of imaginary pearls. ]
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[There's a soft laugh.]
But you have been through an exceptional amount of grief in that time. A break is not a terrible thing.
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I dunno, this feels like grief to me.
[ He kicks a piece of rubble to punctuate the comment. ]
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[He lets out a sigh and rolls his shoulders, trying to ease out some of the tension.]
Although I suppose it isn't quite that. No scheduled meals, no guards looking for reasons to remind others who is in charge, none of the usual scheduled monotony. Just-- nothing beyond the knowledge we are trapped.
[He's not certain which is worse, to be honest.]
I was trained to withstand the worst tortures, to endure pain and starvation and any mental abuse that could be thrown my way. Still, I found myself questioning my own sanity at times in that cell. Even more so when so many lives were taken away and mine was not among them. It seemed rather cruel.
[He tilts his head back, though his eyes stray to Bucky.]
And so does this. Everything was going so well...
๐ญ H E L M Y ๐ญ
[ So he survived the Snap. Cruelty wouldn't even begin to describe that, Bucky thinks. The disappointment of not being able to finally reunite with his family, the starvation for even monotonous human contact...the desperate, wild relief when everything suddenly reset.
Bucky can't help but extend his hand between them, palm up. ]
Hey. You're not alone.
He's fine!!! ๐
No, he supposes he's not alone, not yet. But they aren't in the best of predicaments right now.]
Neither of us are at the moment, that much is true.
[He hesitates for a brief moment before he lets his head tip back, hit against the wall they're leaning against with a dull thud.]
I am not certain that's how I would prefer things. I would rather you be out there.
[Whether that's because Bucky could have potentially saved him from this predicament a lot easier or because he'd just rather not see the man die quite like this, it doesn't need to be delved into or said, does it?]
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[ Bucky clambers to his feet, dusting his trousers off and offering a hand to help Zemo up. ]
There's gotta be another way out-- assholes like this always build escape routes.
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Unless they truly didn't want any of this information getting out.
[Which has certainly piqued his curiosity, but-- they don't have the means or the time to look at the moment.]
Very well, James. I suppose it is something to do.
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They walk, shuffle, and clamber through narrow corridors and rubble blockades. Minutes pass, maybe half an hour. Progress is slow, but right as they hit a juncture, Bucky pauses. ]
Did you feel that?
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His attention is drawn towards Bucky at the question, brows furrowed.]
What is it?
[His attention is drawn towards one of the corridors.]
The one to the left.
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I swear I just felt a breeze.
[ Or a draft from settling rubble. ]
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[He shifts his weight, watching Bucky closely.]
Where?
[It isn't long before he joins him - it's the only slight hope they've gotten so far.]
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[ Before things can get too weird, Bucky holds the hair aloft, inspecting it to see if the draft moves it. ]
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A bit of a warning next time, James.
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[ But he's too preoccupied with watching the strand, waiting to see if it some burst of air disturbs it. After what feels like an eternity (yet just before he's about to discard the thing entirely in frustration), the end flutters. ]
Bingo. To the left.
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[There's sudden urgency, something that feels like hope that he doesn't quite want to feel. It never goes terribly well, letting one buy too much into childish hopes or fantasies.]
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Bucky stops, waiting for the building to stop shuddering and settle. ]
That doesn't sound good.
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[He's going too fast and while he understands--
the shaking sends a jolt right to his very core. His eyes go towards the ceiling as if he's expecting it all to come falling on them, buried alive.
He is not an easy man to scare, but for a moment, all he can think about is his family encased in rubble, how it felt to dig them out, how it felt to see--]
James, stop. Just-- stop for a moment.
[He needs to think at least, consider this-- predicament.
He isn't certain they have time.]
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[ Bucky pants, nearly frantic with the wild instinct to run and get free. His body is starting to vibrate with the adrenaline, they don't have time for this- ]
I don't wanna die down here.
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