worthallthis | The Last Voyages: IC Inbox

The Asset also shows up early, though not as early. He might not have gotten much sleep, because he's basically a big bundle of neuroses right now, and some kind of unfamiliar training happening in the morning activated like half of them. He's... 80% sure Steve won't do anything to hurt him, but that doesn't make his brain shut up about the other 20%, or about how much else could potentially go wrong. He couldn't even research it, because that would require one, the library, or two, asking someone, both of which are big nopes.

But it's fine. He's good at working on less than the normal amount of sleep. Also good at hiding anxiety, so he just has the normal expressionless face on when he taps metal fingers on the slightly open door.

Steve just calls, "Come on in," at the sound, not really looking up as he sets his shoes neatly aside. "You can leave the door open or close it." He doesn't mind, although, "There're a lot more occupied cabins on this floor than there used to be. Used to be pretty quiet in this corner."

Not that you can hear the noise from cabins outside their doors, or between the walls.

Oh, he is closing the door. Immediately upon stepping inside. He's aware of about how many people are on each floor because he prowls around a lot and he's not leaving that avenue open for anyone to try to join them or notice his inevitable panic attack or memory malfunction or... whatever happens in here. Because he's not going to hold his breath that another interaction with Steve isn't going to follow the pattern.

He takes in the set-up, is relieved at the positioning, and kind of slouches over to prod at the cushion with one booted foot. He's guessing he's supposed to sit on that?

That is exactly what you're supposed to do, pal. Steve motions to the cushion, saying, "Sit down, if you want," and then going about untwisting the cap of the thermos and pouring them both some coffee, pushing one carefully across the floor to sit in front of Bucky's cushion. "I brought coffee. If you want some."

Okay, that's two if you wants right in a row, but Steve's pretty sure Bucky can handle it. He may be more of an incurable optimist when it comes to things Bucky might be capable of.

"I wish I had a candle or something, that's what the Vulcans use. But I figure we'll just go really basic."

There's a moment of hesitation, but then he does at least sit down-- not cross-legged, because that's too hard to get out of at a moment's notice, but his usual on-the-floor position with his knees up a little. And since there's coffee sitting right there, he's going to take it. " ... Vulcans?" he repeats in confusion, holding the coffee cup in both hands.

"Yeah," Steve says, with a little smile. "My - she wasn't my first inmate. Just the only one I graduated. Her name was T'Pol, and she was Vulcan. Her people need to meditate regularly, so I learned so we could do it together. They use lamps, sometimes, is all. Something to concentrate on."

He takes a sip of his own coffee, figuring they can ease into it. It's not like they even have to do a lot, this first day. "D'you know anything about meditation? What it is, or why people do it?" It feels a little condescending, to ask, but he figures it's the only way to find out.

He briefly considers reminding Steve that he'd never heard of it before the guy brought it up, but that feels more snarky than it needs to be, and he's already pretty nervous. Not going to make more of a problem before he even knows what he's getting into. So he just shakes his head.

"Okay. It's... not necessarily easy, but it's painless and probably the worst it's going to be is kind of boring."

He blows out a breath, trying to think of the best way to put it. "It's... there are a lot of ways to do it, but they all come down to calming your mind. To focusing on just one thing, to the exclusion of others."

He pauses again, before he says, quietly, "Maybe like waiting to take a shot, I'd think. That... frame of mind? But finding a way to get to it anytime you need. When things are overwhelming."

That gets a lopsided smile. "Y'know. Like dealing with me."

That... does not sound particularly appealing. Or unfamiliar, actually. There's a little more going on in his head lately, maybe, after so long without maintenance and so many people demanding he talk about feelings and opinions and shit. But he still knows the feeling of only caring about one thing. (Well, maybe two. The mission, and finishing the mission so he could go back into cryo where nothing hurt.)

"Mission focus," he surmises flatly.

"Sort of," Steve agrees. "But the mission is the focus?"

Yeah, that probably doesn't make sense.

"I think I'm explaining it badly. But it's a way to find calm when you need it. For some people, it's like mental decluttering, but." He offers Bucky a wry, lopsided smile. He probably doesn't really have too much to declutter.

Except, "It might make it easier when you go through more breaches. Maybe?"

Well. Decluttering the mess of train-guy's memories doesn't sound... terrible. And anything to help with more breaches is worth trying, at least. He can do mission focus again. It shouldn't be hard. He's been doing it forever. It's a standard skill, even if he hasn't exactly been practicing it for the past few weeks.

He sets the untouched coffee back down. "Okay."

"Okay."

Steve watches him for a moment, but then nods a little, and settles just a bit more on his pillow. "I'm gonna close my eyes," he says, "but you don't have to."

He actually starts to close his eyes, then, but pauses. "Actually. Would you feel better if the door was locked? I can lock it so no one else can come in."

His gaze flicks to the door, then back to Steve's feet, and he nods. He would absolutely feel better if the door was locked, and didn't in fact realize it wasn't, now. As far as he can tell, his own locks as soon as it's all the way closed.

This one doesn't lock automatically, and in fact, when Steve lived here, he'd always just left it unlocked.

But it does lock and, given that it's his cabin, no one else can get in if he doesn't want them in. He doubts either of their wardens will even come looking for them, for an hour.

So he nods and gets up off the cushion, padding over to the door in socked feet and, making sure Bucky can see, in case he needs to unlock it, Steve engages the lock. Then he comes back to his cushion, plops down on crossed legs, puts his hands on his knees, and closes his eyes.

"Okay," he says again, on an exhale. "Like I said. You don't have to close your eyes. But if you don't, I want you to pick one spot and look at it, and only that spot. Maybe the door, or whatever makes you feel safest to watch."

He takes a slow breath, and then figures, after a few seconds, they might as well jump right in. "All I really want you to do is just... breathe. You can match my breathing if you want, or not, but just breathe, and only breathe, and don't think about a whole lot else for a couple of minutes."

Maybe it has to do with the relative feeling of safety of the occupant, whether doors automatically lock. He watches Steve move, handle the lock, then move back, eyes on hands and feet, then on Steve's chest once he's settled. He can still see the door out of the corner of his eye, and watching the only moving thing in the room is the probably going to go better for his nerves, anyway, so that's where he stays.

This is... very much an Asset thing. Look at one thing, don't think about anything, and breathe. It's the only thing he did that wasn't mission-related, directly ordered by a handler or tech, or the result of a flare of fear. It's practically the only coping mechanism he really has.

So this is easy. It's also not helping him relax in the slightest.

Steve is starting to think maybe he should have prepared better, but given that he generally flies by the seat of his pants, why should this be any different? He gives it a few minutes, trying to listen for Bucky's breathing, trying to gauge when it's at least steady and even - if it gets steady and even - before he says, softly, "Okay. Now I want you to... think about being up on deck."

He's noticed that Bucky seems pretty taken with the view, the few times he's spotted him up there. Steve can't really blame him. It's a hell of a view. And imagining it doesn't require Bucky to remember anything he might not, or hopefully anything associated with terrible connotations (except being stuck on this goddamned Barge, of course).

"Think about the view. I know it's always changing, and that's fine, but think about looking out at it. Think about that, and not anything else, except breathing and looking at the stars."

His breathing is even. His heart rate is under control. He's maybe halfway disassociated (not that he knows the term), but that's okay, he's used to that. It's what usually happens for mission focus, and especially post-mission focus when people are just talking around him and he doesn't have to listen except for warning tones and approaching hands.

It takes him a minute to focus on Steve actually saying something, because nobody who talks like that is a threat to track. It's weird. What he says is weird, too. Stars don't have anything to do with mission focus. That doesn't make sense.

He tries, though, because he's an obedient Asset. Most of the time, anyway. It's easier when he is, and it's a harmless enough order. It's hard, though. Stars don't belong. They aren't right. They don't. Fit. Though he keeps his breathing an expression under control, his heart rate's going up. That's the safest sign of stress, anyway, because usually nobody's paying attention to his pulse.

Steve is listening primarily to Bucky's breathing, admittedly, and that's steady and solid. He does fall silent for a few minutes, though, because the point is not to talk at Bucky the whole time, and let him actually visualize the things Steve's asking him to.

He also knows that the point is probably not to ask questions that require answers, but today's kind of an exception to the rule, so he does ask, eventually, "Is that working okay for you?" At worst, he figures, he'll break Bucky's concentration, get an eyeroll he can't see (his eyes are still closed, trying to keep himself as nonthreatening as possible) and they can start over again.

There's no response, because he's still struggling with the whole "think about stars" vs "sit quietly in the Chair and not get anyone's attention" problem, and because that wasn't an order. Nobody asks the Asset if something is working okay, unless it's the arm, and the arm isn't even being worked on right now. It probably wasn't even directed at him. Too gentle-sounding.

Yeah, he's definitely not thinking he's on the Barge anymore.

Whether it's wise or not, Steve lets it go for a few minutes more. The point is quiet meditation, after all, and he'd never doubted that Bucky could pick up the basics pretty quickly.

So he wants those few minutes, just breathing, maybe subconsciously matching his breathing to Bucky's, before cracking one eye open to ask, a little louder, but certainly not in any way barking an order that demands a response like the Asset might expect, "Buck? How're you doing, buddy?"

Edited 2020-09-14 03:19 (UTC)

Still no response. He's just kind of staring blankly at Steve's chest, and while the metal arm is still and quiet, there's a little tremor running through the flesh arm, fingers stuttering very softly on the cushion. He's very still, otherwise. Not a hair is moving, not a rustle of fabric as he breathes.

He's waiting. He failed the stars order, because it kept slipping out of his brain. Stars don't belong. It's just in his head, so maybe no one will know, but it's still a failed order.

Okay, yeah... that's probably not good. Sure, the quiet breathing and stillness are what meditation is supposed to be, but...

No, it's probably not good. Steve sure is good at messing things up, and sitting here staring at the absolute lack of expression on Bucky's face... Steve's starting to think maybe he really messed up, here.

And the only thing for it is to slide off his cushion and kneel down in front of Bucky, reaching out to put one hand on Bucky's knee. "Buck," he tries softly, first. He'll try again, louder, if he has to.

The fact that he might get slammed against the opposite wall is just part and parcel of being Bucky's best friend. Steve's not particularly worried about that.

Though the usual method of breaking these episodes is a slap, a touch to the knee is enough to at least get a reaction. For once, that reaction isn't lashing out, though after a quick, hard inhale and a couple blinks to reorient himself, he does lose control of his breathing into short, shallow gasps. He looks down sharply, chin nearly to his chest, hiding his face in hair, and both hands fist up on the cushion to either side of him.

He's not entirely sure where he is, yet, only that someone is touching him and that's never a good sign.

Steve's first instinct, is, naturally, to move closer. To tighten that grip on Bucky, to slide down next to him and wrap his arm around him. To let him know he's okay, he's not alone.

He also knows that's probably going to make it worse, and instead pulls his hand back, clenching it at his side so he doesn't reach out again.

"Hey," he says, softly. "Hey. Sorry, I - thought that was a good idea. Probably should've known better, huh?"

God, Bucky's got to be sick of Steve apologizing to him. "Do you want me to back off?" he asks, quietly, admittedly already shifting a little, assuming the answer will be yes.

His eyes flick up briefly, peeking through hair, because that's-- handlers don't talk like that. He doesn't want things, he's just an asset.

That's. The target. The-- not target. He'd decided not to use that, because he's not hitting that face again. He knows this. "Rogers," he croaks as the name comes back, and with it, memory of where he actually is, what they were supposed to be doing, and oh hey, how he fucked up something again. Mission focus, like hell.

The stillness is gone, and he's shaking, and bringing his hands up to grind his palms into his eyes. "Fuck."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

smart edit, pal

and yet I still missed the typo XD

that's okay I don't even see the typo

NINJA TYPO

no subject