dappered | (no subject)

[ It's Tuesday in Avengers Tower.

A lot of the particulars of this arrangement had gone over his head, given that he'd been all but catatonic from shock and exhaustion through half of it (turns out using the Cube for a major temporal displacement actually took a lot of energy from the bearer, in this case him) but it seemed to include a lot of shouting and posturing while he'd suffered a fatal disconnect over which Steve he was supposed to back up, the tiny angry one or the big angry one. But the gist of it, explained by Howard Stark's son, is this: the Tesseract fucks with time, and sometimes deigns to answers wishes. Even those not spoken out loud. One flash of blue light later it had dumped all four of them here in the future in some kind of 'temporal bubble,' whatever the fuck that was, and it's keeping them here indefinitely.

Stark promises he's working on fixing it, but the future has things like inhalers and endless amounts of hot water, so there's that. Bucky's not in any big freaking hurry to head back to the war front in any case, even if being stuck here means staring at the frankly terrifying person who is supposedly future-him, or one possible version of future-him.

They're all under what's effectively house arrest in Stark's future robot building, given leave to go wherever they want in the Tower. They've all got their own bedrooms, their own kitchens, even their own floors if they want them, but Bucky had shown up at younger Steve's door at first opportunity and hadn't left him since.

(Part of him thought that maybe, maybe he should be throwing in with the other one, the older one with shadows under his eyes and a look on his face like someone had just kicked him in the stomach, the one Bucky remembered from Europe, but stress had brought on one of Stevie's attacks and Bucky couldn't leave him alone for that.)

He'd been kicked out eventually, though, told to go do his worrying and hovering somewhere else and take his stupid glowing alien box with him, which meant that Steve wanted some space to be upset in peace and that was fine, that was all fine, Brooklyn Steve didn't really know him since he'd been taken off to the camp and. Yeah. He's different. He's killed a lot of people since then, has watched his best friend waffle between science experiment, propaganda darling and one man army with maybe 10% of the training he needs to do the jobs they've got him doing. He's got a glowing alien box that always comes back to him, no matter how he tries to get rid of it. It bothers Steve that he's different. Not a one of them really know each other right now.

He drifts into the kitchen out of lack of anything better to do, still dressed in yesterday's clothes because he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep while Steve rasped in the bed next to him, mechanically opening cabinets and going through drawers, staring in something like hopeless frustration at the array of supposed edibles. The packages are all brightly colored and there are three kinds of everything, all declared to be low-fat or pure organic or a good source of vitamin whatever, like it wasn't possible for a guy to just get milk anymore without having to make some kind of choice about it. The labels are in every kind of language possible, of which he can only read three with his fragmentary French, Italian, and German. There's butter, more than he knows what to do with, and real meat, impossibly fresh, and the house robot has told him that if there's anything he wants that isn't there, he just has to ask for it and it'll be delivered.

All he wants is a goddamn loaf of bread and some cheese to make a sandwich, jesus. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

All this-- you know. [ he waves a vague hand. does he mean the future? the kitchen? it is a mysterious mystery. ]

Hard to believe this is all just an accident.

You don't?

[It comes out half a question, but half a statement too.]

I'm not sure I do either. It's all a little too convenient, the four of us all together. The only thing I can't figure out is why drag us into it? If they're really...us, future us.

[Steve sighs heavily.]

I don't much believe that either.

[ yeah he's got an idea about that, and it sits uncomfortably in his stomach. There's only one thing being zapped into the future is supposed to teach you. ]

Oh, you don't believe that you'd volunteer for some hare-brained science experiment to turn you into a super man? Cos I can vouch for that one.

[There's a little self-deprecating snort at Bucky's words.]

Good to know you're still you.

[And he ain't wrong either. Steve looks over at him, the Bucky that he knows too, and he knows that he'd give up what he becomes if it would somehow save Bucky from the same thing.]

C'mon, Buck. Tell me what's eating at you.

I'm always me.

[ except that rings a little hollow in light of certain future events, and his shoulders hunch despite himself. ]

You're really gonna play that game with me?

[It's an odd turn of the tables. No, I'm not sick. No, it doesn't hurt. Steve's insisted that so many times, and Bucky Barnes has seen through it every last one.

Steve scoots closer to him, glancing at his shoulders which were normally so broad and strong, his entire body carefree. Not hunched up like this.]

Can't help but feel we're supposed to be learning some lesson from all this. You know. See the future, see where you're headed. Maybe wise up about some decision you're gonna make down the line.