worthallthis | The Last Voyages: IC Inbox

[Elbow it is. Ellie puts her hand there to guide him, opens her door, gets them in, and closes it.

And then she steps away, over to where her sofa is.]

Okay. You can look.

[So.

Bucky likes blankets.

Ellie has gotten dozens of blankets in all colors, different textures, different thickness, moved aside her coffee table, and essentially made one giant blanket pile on and in front of the sofa.]

Taadaaaah.

[It's so padded that when she falls backwards onto the floor, she sinks.]

[He looks around for a beat in confusion, but then something like a startled laugh makes it way out.]

Ellie. Have you decided you like blanket nests, now?

[It looks very cozy. He's not quite connecting that maybe she's done this for him yet, but he'll get there.]

[It takes effort to sit up in the pile, but she manages, and pats the spot next to her. She knows he doesn't get it.]

I do, but this is for you. C'mere.

[He does look kind of baffled by the statement, but he comes over anyway to settle down in the piles of blanket, patting around for the softest one in reach to twine his fingers into.]

What for.

For your birthday. I missed it.

[She helps move some blankets around.]

And just... for you, because I know you like it. It's what friends do.

[Oh, that. A flicker of discomfort crosses his face, but it's brief, and then he's tugging blankets up around his knees, focusing downwards.]

Never imagined a friend would layer their whole cabin in blankets. Where did you even. Get all these.

Admiral. I just asked.

[She shrugs.]

You deserve it, B. Nice stuff. I would have probably done this sometime soon even if it wasn't your birthday, so don't grump.

I'm not. Grumping.

[That word doesn't sound right, but it's grammatically consistent, so he's owning it. He gathers one of the blankets over his lap, petting it idly.]

Just seems like a lot. That's all.

[And he's still not all there on the birthday-slash-person thing. And also life is kind of awful in general right now.]

[She grins a little--ha, got him to say grumping.]

Oh, fuck yeah, it's a lot. But I'm happy to do it for you, B.

[There's not much rhyme or reason to the blankets after a comfy base layer was established, so Ellie finds one to push towards him. And another. She wonders how far she could get with walling him in with blankets until he noticed.]

... you're using that arm of yours to haul all this shit back to your cabin once we're done hanging out, though.

[That takes him even more by surprise.]

I get to keep these? Well. Some of them?

[He really doesn't need this many. He'll put some into storage for other people, maybe drop some off with people he cares about. But some, definitely.]

However many you want. Enough to make a fort, definitely.

[Blanket forts are universal. ]

A fort. Blankets aren't sturdy enough for that.

[The skeptical look fades into something thoughtful, kind of abstracted. There's a memory in there.]

Would need pillows for that.

Looks like I dropped the ball, there. Including sofa cushions, I have like... seven pillow-like things in here. Sorry, B. Ruined your birthday surprise.

[She's kidding, and grins as she shoves some blankets onto his legs.]

Maybe next birthday.

[He doesn't seem to mind her insistent burying. He gathers the blankets up amiably enough, in fact, as he looks around, calculating her pillow percentage.]

Bet we could still do it with only seven pillows.

An Ellie-sized fort, maybe. You wanna? My night is yours.

[She literally has no other obligations aside from Zero.]

Sure.

[Seems like a worthy passtime. And the familiarity isn't making him want to punch anything, so maybe all the blankets everywhere is helping. He ought to take advantage of the situation.

He pushes the blankets off his lap, again, and climbs up to start collecting pillows from around the cabin.]

I need to talk to you, anyway. Actually.

[Ellie stands to tear the pillows off the sofa.]

Yeah? What about?

[He'll go with the easier thing, first.]

If I die. If I ever die here. Don't bring me to. To medical to wake up. If I wake up in there. I'll panic and hurt someone.

[It's not even "probably". It is a certainty.]

[She visibly tenses. The sofa cushion in her hand just gets sort of dropped onto the blankets, and she looks to Bucky with a frown.]

Why are we talking about this?

Steve said if people die, their wardens usually have them brought back in medical. If it happens. I can't wake up there.

[He's not saying it's going to happen. But if it does, he knows himself well enough now, knows how much of his programming has degraded, to know that he will lash out and try to escape.]

Well, you're not dying, for one.

[It's an irony she's thought about, of course, because everyone either dies or leaves her.]

And no, I probably wouldn't take you to medical.

[Her first concern would be getting at whoever the fuck killed him. Ellie crosses her arms over her chest, sitting on the arm of the sofa.]

Did you piss someone off or something?

No. I was attacked by nine people during the port. In three separate events.

[He's really not sure why she's so unhappy about this.]

It's just a contingency plan, Ellie. I'm not planning on pissing anyone off or dying. But just in case.

Fine. I get it. No medical, just in case. I'll be happy to never use this information.

[She idly kicks at a bunched up blanket.]

Anything else, B?

Thank you.

[Then he... hesitates. And turns away for a moment, collecting the pillows she pulled off the couch and crouching down to slowly start propping them amidst the sea of blankets.

The death thing was easy. This thing is hard. But he did promise Godric.]

What do you know. About. Right and wrong.

[Ellie is absolutely not helpful at all, just sort of sitting there, trying to figure out what he's trying to get at.]

I know what's my right, and my wrong. I know there are things that are generally right and wrong, and that there are exceptions. What's up, huh? You can talk to me.

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