hadriel_logs | i will keep calling you to see [closed]

i will keep calling you to see [closed]

Who: Steve & Bucky
What: Trying to stay awake during the dreamwalking event.
Where: Their apartment.
When: Latter part of the event.
Warnings: n/a

[Steve's tired of these "gods", their games and their compromises. He's tired of his best friend being compelled to be a murderer, and tired of knowing that he did little more than hug a jar of bugs for days.

Right now he's just tired, period. He doesn't want to have any more dreams. Some of them have things in them that Steve's pretty sure he's got no business seeing. The only alternative seems to be to stay awake for as long as he possibly can.

It's not going very well. Steve's sitting on his bed, Bucky seated on the opposite end and facing him. Unlike Steve, he doesn't seem to be struggling at all, unless the number of times that he's had to nudge him when his chin starts to drop counts.

Steve jerks his head up yet again when he feels Bucky's foot give his shin a light kick, instantly scowling.]

What? I was just resting my eyes.

[Cranky and a terrible liar.]

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[This is a bad idea. The soldier knows that he's capable of going several days without sleep, and much longer with only short periods of rest, but Steve is not like him. Steve needs rest. But Steve has insisted, so here they are.

However, sitting around staring at each other is not going to help their cause.

The soldier snorts, not believing a single word out of Steve's mouth, his arms crossed, scowling.

This is a bad idea.]

We should at least be doing something.

[Steve's life has, thus far, been composed of bad ideas. It's a bad idea to speak up against guys three times his size. It's a bad idea to join the Army. Signing up to be a human guinea pig for an experiment that might kill him is a bad idea. Hell, with his list of health conditions, leaving the house probably counts as a bad idea.

He can't sleep. Steve knows what will happen if he does.]

Fine. [He leans forward a little bit.] Let's train.

[Steve's always willing when it comes to that. Holding a knife and a shield in his current condition is probably a bad idea too - but he's stayed alive so far.]

You promised you'd teach me how to take a knife away from someone anyhow.

[Yeah, that one's probably a bad idea too. But at least they'll be doing something. He sighs and stands, motions to Steve to get up.]

Alright. Come on.

[And he walks out into the living room, where there's more space to move around, pulling out one of his many knives as he does so, flipping it idly between his fingers.]

[Steve stands, taking his shield from where it leans against the wall, and the dagger that Bucky chose for him. He follows him into the living room, taking a deep breath before lifting his defense.]

The past few weeks have been pretty rough.

[More on Bucky than on him recently.]

I'm not sure if I even thanked you for keeping me alive during the whole fireflies thing. So...thanks.

[Steve smiles at him. And then he lunges, blade aimed at him.]

[He huffs a little.]

You would've done the same for me.

[Because he knows Steve would have, maybe better than he knows his own mind, he knows Steve would have helped him.

Steve lunges, but he's slow, and the soldier steps aside easily, coming into Steve's space and grabbing his arm, twisting it behind his back and plucking the knife out of his hand.]

Yeah, I would have. I'll even bring stuff to you if you need to be off your feet for a couple of days.

[He is slow, and he knows it, so he had to think of something a little different than the average frontal atack. Of course Bucky would go for the knife. Bucky likes knives.

Steve sort of favors a shield for some reason, which he still has. And he grips the edge of it, putting all of his weight into it as he drives it down into Bucky's foot.]

I'll hold you to that.

[Slow and telegraphing his moves. The soldier steps aside again, a knife in each hand now, but he doesn't move to attack.]

I thought you wanted me to teach you to disarm.

Doesn't have to be tonight. Maybe we should save something for tomorrow night, just in case.

[Another twenty four hours without sleep might just be the end of him, but Steve either doesn't realize it or accept it. Or both. He slides the shield onto his arm, eyeing the weapons in Bucky's hands.]

Come on. I'm your mission, right?

[The soldier is absolutely certain Steve won't make another few hours without passing out, let alone a full day. But he doesn't say that. He just shrugs, spins the knives in his hands.]

That mission doesn't apply here.

[Steve. Are you trying to taunt him because it's not working.]

So you're gonna train me, but you won't risk hurting me.

[Steve arches a brow at him.]

That's nice. I wonder if what's out there will be that considerate.

[He gives Steve a Look.]

Are you asking me to hurt you?

I'm asking if you can.

[Bucky's taught him some things, and Steve's sure that he has plenty more to teach him. But he's very aware of how careful Bucky is, and it doesn't really surprise him.

He sighs, goes a little softer.]

I don't want you to do anything you're not comfortable doing. There are other people offering to train folks.

[He tilts his head, considering that. It seems ridiculous at first glance, but... it's a reasonable question.

He doesn't want to hurt Steve. He doesn't want Steve to be hurt at all, by anyone.

But getting hurt during a fight and getting hurt during training are two different things.]

Training doesn't mean I'm trying to hurt you. But it doesn't mean I'm avoiding it either.

Fine.

[Steve sighs, and maybe he's just too tired to argue for a change. More likely, Bucky isn't someone he's keen on arguing with. He holds his hand out.]

Give me the knife back and show me.

[He flips the knife around in his hand to give it back to Steve hilt-first. Then he proceeds to walk Steve through a method for disarming that would be adequate for someone of his size and carrying his shield and knife.

He's a patient teacher.]

[He always was. Steve can't help but think back to their boxing lessons, how there was no fault in Bucky's teaching. Steve's arms and wrists just weren't strong enough, he got out of breath too easily. But he gets the move down enough that he could probably surprise someone and get the knife away from them that way.]

You know, with any luck I'll never even have to do this. The folks are nice, it's the monsters...

[Steve trails off, his head dropping forward slowly. Yes, he just might be falling asleep on his feet.]

[The soldier is satisfied with Steve's progress. It's good enough for one session, anyway, and with any luck Steve will be able to master more as time goes on.

Sleep deprivation isn't doing him any favors, though. It's pretty damn adorable that he's falling asleep on his feet. The soldier steps forward and taps Steve on the shoulder gently, trying to wake him up again.]

Steve.

[It's a light touch, but enough to make Steve jerk awake again, the knife in his hand gripped and lifted. The sleep deprivation might actually be a boon to his reflexes, but he's quickly apologetic.]

Buck, sorry. I- [He tries to think of an excuse, but he's already used that 'just resting my eyes' one. Sigh. He should probably just fess up to it, it's not like they both don't already know.] Guess I fell asleep.

[He doesn't flinch, doesn't even blink at the knife lifted against him. He pats Steve's shoulder gently.]

Maybe you should just sleep.

[Is it really such a bad thing?]

[That depends on which dream he has. Steve puts the knife down, lowers the shield too. He doesn't instantly reject the idea, which suggests that he's at least thinking it over.

He looks up at Bucky, knowing that he's been awake at least as long, probably longer. It doesn't seem to be affecting him, but it still can't be good for him, can it?]

One condition. You have to try to sleep too.

[Well it can't be that bad, can it? The soldier knows he could stay awake for much longer without too much impediment to his performance, but sleep... would be beneficial.

The dreams, though...

He sighs. If it'll get Steve to sleep...]

Alright. Come on.

[He sheaths his dagger and heads to Steve's bedroom.]

[He can keep an eye on him, which is undoubtedly the same thing that Bucky's thinking. Though as tired as he feels, Steve doubts he'll be able to keep an eye on anything for very long - he won't be able to keep them open.

Steve sighs as he slides across the bed, feeling his weight settle against the mattress. He waits until Bucky gets settled too, thinking back to all the times they did this sort of thing as kids.]

Don't forget to say your prayers.

[Steve gives him a sleepy smile before closing his eyes.]

[He snorts at that, because honestly, what god would listen to him? But he climbs in next to Steve, and watches him as he falls asleep.

He really could just lie here awake and be fine, but he promised Steve he'd sleep too.

After a moment watching the easy rise and fall of Steve's chest, his relaxed face, the soldier carefully wraps an arm around Steve's waist and closes his eyes, and falls asleep.]

[Steve used to fall asleep to the sound of Glenn Miller playing from his radio, the one with the bad speaker. So it's not too surprising that he hears his music in his dreams too. But then there's images to go with it, decorations and dancing. His tinny radio becomes a live band.

He takes the scene in entirely, watching, before looking at the soldier by his side. Steve knows he's a soldier, even if he's not dressed like the others, wearing black leather instead of drabs and khakis.]

Do you remember this song?

[He doesn't dream much. Not like this, anyway. But it seems right that if he were to be dreaming of a dance hall, Steve would be there with him. He looks around, looks over at Steve, and thinks, listening to the song carefully.]

It seems... familiar.

[He's not sure if he remembers it exactly, but it doesn't feel new to him at all.]

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