Im So Ready For A Nap

snowfall slicked the rooftops and turned the streets below into a dull smear of neon reflections and black ice. his target—allison daws, a former operative now in bed with the enemy—had hunkered down in hells kitchen, hoping to disappear. a standard job. he'd done it a hundred times, but something felt . . . wrong.

it was too quiet. no patrols, no sentries. just the low hum of a faulty streetlight and the distant wail of a siren that never got closer. the soldier stared down his scope, watching the safehouse window where the blinds had been pulled for movement. all it would take is for his target to pass by. one quick, clean shot and it would all be over.

a whisper of movement behind him, too smooth for a mercenary and too measured for a common killer. the soldier turned quickly, primed to defend. // @kenosky , a semi - plotted starter .

❝ then i'm not saying it right, ❞ bucky mumbled, because what he was asking her to do was the hardest thing he'd ever attempted. coming back from a lifetime of war, blood, pain, and violence was a constant work in progress and most of the time he felt as if he were performing for some invisible judge, jury, and executioner. ❝ it's not easy. it's the hardest thing you'll ever do. you'll fail, you'll try again, you'll fail again. ❞

bucky turned the mug of coffee absently in his hand. watched the steam rise from the surface and tried not to lose himself in the ordinariness of the motion. he didn't look at her when she asked about him, instead, his jaw clenched and his brow furrowed. truth be told, he tried not to think about it.

❝ i don't know, ❞ he said finally, ❝ but i believe it matters that we try. ❞ he nursed his jaw for several short seconds before he met her eye again, ❝ i don't have all the answers. i'm making this up as i go, but i do know this: you're not too far gone that you can't come back, kara. ❞

kara let the silence stretch between them,  let it settle around her like a weighted blanket,  unfamiliar but not unwelcome.  no history.  no past.  just now.   she traced the rim of her cup with a fingertip,  watching the way the steam curled  &  disappeared.  ❝you make it sound easy. ❞ the words weren’t an accusation,  just an observation.  she wondered if he really believed it — that the weight of the past could be shrugged off so cleanly,  left outside like a coat too heavy for summer air.   

her fingers flexed against the ceramic.  ❝maybe it is.  for some people. ❞ she glanced around,  watching the other patrons — people who belonged here in a way she never could.  the man at the counter flipping through a newspaper,  the couple sharing a plate of fries,  the waitress moving through it all like she had done this a thousand times before  &  would do it a thousand times again.  ❝i don’t know if i can be one of them. ❞  but she wanted to be.  what she wasn’t sure of was what she wanted from him.  reassurance? permission? maybe just the chance to sit here  &  pretend,  for a moment,  that she belonged.   

the waitress set a menu down in front of her with an absent smile,   &  kara nodded her thanks.  the gesture felt small but significant.  normal.  she wrapped her hands around the warmth of the coffee cup,  inhaling the scent of something burnt  &  bitter  &  real.  she looked up at bucky again.  ❝&  what about you?❞ her voice was quieter now,  but steady.  ❝do you believe that? that we can just …  exist?❞  her gaze shifted from him. ❝ do you think we can ever have … more? ❞

more random dialogue prompts ,

“why do you have that look on your face?”

“finish what you’re doing, we have to talk.”

“what have you done to yourself?”

“did you do something different with your hair?”

“it doesn’t do any good to get worked up.”

“when was the last time we had a real conversation.”

“are you in the witness protection program, or what?”

“there’s something wrong with me.”

“no, i don’t hate you.”

“hey stupid.”

“we’re aren’t them.”

“looks like i’ll live long enough to make you pay.”

“you know you’re wrong.”

“i don’t understand, why are you doing this?”

“now, before i say anything, promise me you’ll stay calm.”

“what makes me so special?”

“you have no idea what i’ve been through.”

“you really don’t have to do that, not for me.”

“did you really think you’d get a second chance?”

“how about we don’t do that.”

“i have a lot going for me, but humility is not one of them.”

“you’re the worst.”

“i don’t need you right now.”

“don’t just stand there, looking at me.”

“i thought you were supposed to call me.”

“take my hand.”

“i need you.”

“you’re allowed to need help sometimes.”

“for someone who doesn’t like to feel things, you sure feel a lot of it out loud.”

“when this is all over, i want it to be you and me.”

“why won’t you tell me what happened?”

“you don’t know what this means to me.

“i know it doesn’t make sense.”

“i’m trying really hard to keep it together.”

“i know you’re new, but we do things a little differently here.”

“your voice is putting me to sleep.”

“did you find what you were looking for?”

"you knew and you didn’t even warn me?”

“well, i guess that’s broken.”

“i thought it was part of the act.”

“you think u don’t know you’re only here because they sent you?”

“you promised to call me if you didn’t know what to wear.”

“you can keep a secret, can’t you?”

“how could you do this to me?”

“put the gun down, dearest. i have news!”

“i know you don’t have any reason to trust me, but you need to know something.”

“if you’re here to tell me what happened last night, someone beat you to it.”

“people think i’m weird.”

“i think i’m losing myself again.”

“you can’t be here.”

“i wish you’d come to the funeral.”

“do you know what today is?”

“so, you broke my favourite mug… and you’re breaking up with me?”

“i need to get out.”

“it’s like i’m cursed or something.”

“you are remarkably well-behaved tonight, what have you been up to?”

“you gonna eat that?”

“sir, the pony rides are for children only.”

“i don’t want you to worry about that anymore.”

“we’ll never make it in time.”

“you’d be late for your own funeral.”

“you should have seen it coming.”

“oh, good, you’re here! hold this.”

“why can’t you just be happy for me?”

“on a scale of one to ten, how do you feel about nachos right now?”

“is this how you flirt with everyone?”

“how much longer till we’re there?”

“what have you done?”

“it’s time for you to repay that debt you owe me.”

“where did you get that? who gave it to you?”

“what kind of mother has thoughts like that?”

“i know I haven’t been what you needed, but i’m here, and i wanna help.”

“i never want to hear you say that again.”

“you’re all i have.”

“i know it’s not perfect, but i did follow the recipe this time.”

“i was doing so well until you showed up.”

“don’t eat that! i made it ‘specially for our guest.”

“it’s not that i don’t like my life, it’s that i don’t have the energy to enjoy it.”

“how can you stand this place?”

“don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t exactly blend in.”

“you need to stop.”

“i don’t like that look, what happened?”

“is that seriously your password?”

“what’s your problem?”

“you had no right to use it without asking.”

“oh, wow, you weren’t kidding.”

“i couldn’t trust my own parents to protect me.”

“i’m surprised you haven’t been arrested yet. wait, no, i’m not.”

“why do you want to help me?”

“ten bucks for that piece of crap?”

“we have to hurry, they’re coming!”

“hey, look what came in the mail!”

“do you want to get a drink or something?”

“please tell me you didn’t eat that.”

“the worst part is you didn’t even notice.”

“if i wanted help, i would have asked.”

“wanna tell me what’s going on with your grades?”

“you need to leave.”

“talk to me, okay? i need to know what’s going on.”

“i do blame you.”

“sometimes life deals you a bad hand, but you can still play your cards right and win.”

“you’re no longer useful to me.”

“i’m not good with sarcasm: if you don’t like me, just say it.”

he didn't flinch, he rarely ever did. not when people raised their voices, not when they started flailing like they might be carrying a contagious form of hunted by mine enemies. he just watched, quiet and measured with a single brow raised in silent question. booster's outburst seemed . . . misplaced and strained. there was more to the random attack than was on the surface, booster had obviously been the target but his attackers had been, strange. trained and well-armed, and yet not only did bucky not recognise their particular brand, he also didn't recognise their weaponry.

bucky folded his arms across his chest, one shoulder leaning against the wood of a floor to ceiling sized dresser. the stench in the motel was familiar. old sweat, burned wiring, fear trying to hide behind sarcasm. bucky knew the smell better than he cared to admit. it was the kind of smell that stuck to ones skin like regret. ❝ they come after someone i'm standing next to, that makes it my fight. ❞ he said carefully.

booster had handled himself in the fight, that wasn't up for debate, but now that the danger had come to a brief pause, bucky could look at him—really look at him this time—and he saw the fray around the edges of a carefully sculpted facade. the patchwork suit, worn and scorched, the dangling earpiece. the exhaustion crawling just beneath the surface. bucky saw it all because he'd worn that same look a thousand different ways.

when booster turned from the window, that false bravado peeling off him in layers, bucky's expression softened. sure, walking away would be the smart play. cleaner. safer even. his gaze lingered on booster's hand, the way it gripped the window frame like it was the only thing tethering him to this moment.

❝ until this is over, you're stuck with me. ❞ bucky said, and it wasn't because he had to, but because he chose to. ❝ so, tell me what we're up against. ❞ // @goldbiz , continued from here .

the detective flipped through a notepad, a stalling tactic no doubt meant to make him nervous enough to slip up. james murphy, you said? they asked while staring down at the drivers license he'd provided. bucky neither confirmed or denied, only waited. he could've stood there all night while they poked and prodded, but he didn't have to.

[ ALIBI ]: the sender provides a false alibi to protect the receiver from legal issues.

steve fell into position at his side and the detective nearest him shifted instinctively. he was with me last night, steve lied. the detective studied steve for a beat before flicking a glance back to bucky to reassess. he'd been an unknown before, an enigmatic question mark but now, standing next to captain america, that question mark became something else entirely—something that didn't fit neatly into whatever theory they had been building about the gunfire fight down at the docks.

❝ we played cards, had a few drinks. ❞ bucky added smoothly. // @sh1elded , right place prompts .

tag dump .

.     ic .     ›     wardrobe .

.     ic .     ›     ships .

.     ooc .     ›     back on my bullshit .

.     ooc .     ›     psa .

.     ooc .     ›     resources .

.     ooc .     ›     my  creations .

. ic . › musings .

.     connection .     ›     steve rogers .

.     connection .     ›     sam wilson .

it was a jarring thing to be seen. she was looking at him the same way people looked at a wreckage after the smoke cleared. not horrified. not curious. just . . . seeing it for what it was. he'd spent years perfecting the art of being unreadable, it was strange to have her open him up to the right page so quickly. he didn't flinch, but his gaze flicked—just once—to the window beside her, tracking nothing. an old habit. ghosts didn't show up in glass, but that didn't mean they weren't watching.

❝ i had to relearn everything, ❞ he said, voice low and worn. he wasn't talking about muscle memory, knives, guns, languages that came back faster than his own name, those things were easy. but other things. how to sit without waiting for orders. how to want something without being punished for it. how to tell if he liked or disliked something and making decisions based on that instead of necessity. now drinking shitty coffee in an aging diner and remembering how to talk to people who weren't trying to kill him was a victory.

❝ simple life isn't so simple for people like us, ❞ bucky said, ❝ but it's a start. ❞

kara watched him,  really watched him,   &  for the first time since stepping into that diner,  she saw it — the same war-torn silence beneath his words that echoed inside her.  he wore his survival like old armor,  battered  &  ill-fitting,  but familiar.  the kind that didn’t protect you from everything,  just enough to keep moving forward.  she’d been so focused on her own fracture that she hadn’t remembered he had the same cracks mirrored in him.  different names,  different ghosts,  but the same kind of ruin.  the kind that teaches you to doubt your hunger,  your wants,  your worth. 

she looked down at her hands,  then back up at him,  quiet for a beat.  ❝you’ve had to relearn this too, ❞ she said softly,  not quite a question.  ❝all of it.❞  there was no accusation in her voice,  only recognition — a kind of dawning understanding that pulled the sharpness from her edges.  she hadn’t been alone in the dark after all.  he’d just learned how to live in it longer.   &  maybe that was what he was trying to teach her.  not how to escape it,  but how to carry light in the meantime.  a flicker.  a match struck against the inside of the ribcage. 

her fingers tightened around the mug.  ❝that’s why you brought me here. ❞ not to fix her.  not to promise something clean  &  untouched.  but to show her what survival looked like when it wasn’t being measured in missions or obedience.  to show her the messy,  ordinary way forward.  the healing that didn’t look like victory but like two people arguing about breakfast in a booth that smelled like grease  &  time. 

SEBASTIAN STAN as THE WINTER SOLDIER CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE WINTER SOLDIER (2014)

I will get up again. And again. And again.

it was a strange thing, to see another walk so evenly in his own footsteps. he'd spent years hunting the remnants of hydra's survivors. going beyond just those that had controlled him, or those he had assisted in gaining power, influence, control. he'd had a list, ever growing, never ending, he'd soaked it in vengeance and justified it. it had taken him a long time to realise that it wasn't helping, that for every life he took, he'd only ever felt worse.

but maybe here, maybe now, he could at least help someone else reach that point earlier. she met his gaze and he held it. hoping she could find whatever it was she was searching for, beyond the memories of blood and violence, there was something else. not peace exactly, not comfort, but something that didn't feel like death warmed over.

❝ slowly. ❞ bucky said, ❝ small ways at first. mundane . . . boring. help someone with their bags. walk someone across the street. pay for someone's meal. ❞ anything that would remind her that she was flesh and blood and not a weapon primed to fire.

❝ eventually, it'll get easier. become more natural, and the people that need help will find you. ❞

kara stood frozen,  the weight of his words settling into the spaces she had tried to keep empty.  she had spent years chasing ghosts — her own,  the ones left in her wake,  the ones she had been made to create.   &  yet,  here was bucky,  telling her the truth she already knew but couldn’t bear to accept.  that the blood she spilled would never be enough to wash away what had been done to her.  that vengeance would never quiet the voice in her head whispering,  this isn’t justice.  this is just survival.   

her fingers twitched at her sides,  aching for something to hold onto.  for years,  her purpose had been defined for her,  her will overwritten.  now,  even free,  she found herself caught in the cycle of retribution,  mistaking action for atonement.  but bucky had seen through it.  he knew because he had lived it,  because he had been here before.   &  still,  he had found something beyond the nothingness.  she met his gaze,  searching for the place where his own ghosts ended  &  something else — something lighter,  something almost like hope — began.   

her throat was tight when she finally spoke.  ❝how?❞ it was barely a word,  just breath given shape.  but it was a question she had never allowed herself to ask before.  because wanting something beyond survival,  beyond punishment,  meant believing she still had a choice.   &  for the first time in longer than she could remember,  she wanted to believe him.