fandomhigh | Fandom High Welcome Picnic, Front Lawn of the School, All Day: Part II

Entry tags:

!event: welcome picnic

Fandom High Welcome Picnic, Front Lawn of the School, All Day: Part II

As the picnic continued, there were tables and chairs arranged on the lawn, the food smelled delicious and inviting, and no one was going to be bitey without explicit consent. Hopefully, everyone would take some time to enjoy themselves!

[OCD is up! This is the picnic post for general mingling. Roommates, fake siblings and teachers are all here. Since it's outside, the picnic is open to all students, teachers, and townies!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Shit.

Well, making a break for it by running was going to draw too much attention. So Bucky kept walking, choosing to instead head right towards the gate to at least get off school grounds and away from the crowd. He knew Steve was going to catch up to him, but -- he'd just deal with that when it happened.

He'd have a better shot at losing Steve in the streets, anyway.

Steve carefully wove through the crowd, eyes on the ball cap the entire time, and then went back to a quick walk.

He really didn't want to lose him.

Bucky made it out of the gate. Darted from view off to the side. And then he --

Stopped.

Pressed his back against the wall and silently waited for Steve to come through. Maybe Steve wasn't the only one losing his good sense, though at least Bucky had the general state of his brain to point to for a reason.

Anyway, if he had to do this, he'd rather do it on his own terms.

Steve stepped through the gate a moment later, eyes scanning the area a bit frantically.

Where'd he gone, where'd he gone?

At least he didn't have to wonder for long.

If only because he got grabbed from behind and then slammed into the wall, getting pinned against it with Bucky's forearm pressing against his chest. It probably felt all too solid even through the hoodie. Metal limbs were like that.

Also, at no point had Bucky's narration claimed his 'own terms' would be gentle.

At this point, it would be weird not to be hit by a Bucky.

"Hey, pal," Steve wheezed out. He was going to have a lump on the back of his for a bit, so thanks for that, Bucky.

Bucky was sorry. Probably.

At the very least, he knew it could've been far, far worse.

He was staring at Steve from a very close proximity. His voice sounded forced - that tended to happen when you were speaking through gritted teeth. "Why are you here?"

Considering everything he'd already uncovered in his memory, that was... kind of a complicated question.

Not stabbed and shot=winning!

"I teach up at the school," Steve said, meeting Bucky's eyes as well as he could and projecting all the earnestness he could muster. "Wilderness Survival this summer."

Bucky had been with him in the war. He probably knew Steve knew...basically jack-all about wilderness survival. "I've been on the island for years, Buck."

"Because it's a multiversal nexus," Bucky said, with a hint of bitterness as he shoved himself away from Steve. Yes, he'd been talking to locals.

He'd stepped back but the sort of desperate steel in his gaze, still fixed on Steve's eyes, wasn't going anywhere. "You're not him."

But the problem was there'd been two Steves for a long time. He had memories about this one, too.

"No, but I'd like to help anyway," Steve said softly, biting his lower lip. "Let me help."

Goddammit, every time he talked to people he'd known here -- It was like the opposite of what HYDRA had done to him over and over again.

But still just as painful.

His voice wavered, just a tiny bit. "You should leave me alone."

Edited 2019-05-06 20:24 (UTC)

"Why would I do that?" Steve asked.

A very tiny voice buried deep inside Bucky's brain suggested 'because fuck you, that's why' was a reasonable response.

"You can't help me." He sounded very definite for a guy that couldn't even decide what to call himself, half the time. "I can't be helped."

His voice was tight, and then tinged with anger on the last few words.

Steve wanted to wrap Bucky in a giant hug and assure him that they'd figure it out, but he also wanted to not get hit again, so--for once--he restrained himself.

"Of course you can be helped," he said instead. "I live with an honest to God genius."

It might've been more likely to be shoving than hitting, but being cautious was still a very good choice.

"Stark," Bucky huffed.

Yeah, he'd been snooping. Though that wasn't why he sounded so bitter and -- defeated about it.

Steve's forehead did that wrinkly thing it did when he was concerned. "What's with the voice?" he asked quietly.

As if Bucky was going to answer that question. He didn't have even half the words to explain it.

Everything about him was tense. "You should leave me alone," he repeated.

"If you remember me at all, you know that's not gonna happen," Steve said.

"You should try anyway."

He could remember - for his own value of remembering - times when there would've been at least some kind of warmth to those words, exasperated if nothing else. But there was nothing of that sort now.

He just sounded gruff and anxious.

And that tone twisted something inside of Steve's stomach.

"You're my best friend," he said. "I'm not walking away just because you're having a tough time."

Way to understate things, there, Steve.

Okay, now the exasperated, the incredulous bubbled up, but still without any warmth. It was a dry, rough sound - didn't even count as a laugh.

"A tough time," Bucky repeated, the words heavy with just how much of an understatement that really was.

"I was trying to be delicate about it!" Steve said mulishly, getting a lot more Brooklyn than he usually did. "I want to burn Hydra to the fuckin' ground for what they did to you but I was trying to be nice."

Bucky physically recoiled a little, because hearing that tone was like being hit in the face with a wave of memory fragments, not just about Steve but home and both their families, except it had always felt like one family to him, hadn't it, for as long as he'd been able to remember when he'd been able to remember, and now 'family' and 'home' were just concepts he could hopelessly and blindly try and grab at in the dark and --

Yeah, he flinched backwards.

"Fuck off, Steve."

The words were out of his mouth before his brain caught wind of them and for a second, maybe he sounded just like himself.

Steve was not expecting that and he laughed, the sound coming out completely involuntarily. He'd always hoped Bucky was still in there somewhere.

"Oh, make me, jerk."

Hopefully without getting shot or stabbed this time?

The anger drained from Bucky's expression, from his posture, from his everything.

But only to be replaced by sadness. He would've guessed that was what it was, anyway, if he'd been asked to name it. Felt a little more complex, though.

He just... shook his head.

Re: General Mingling [Summer 2019]

Re: General Mingling [Summer 2019]

Re: General Mingling [Summer 2019]

Re: General Mingling [Summer 2019]

Re: General Mingling [Summer 2019]

Re: General Mingling [Summer 2019]

Re: General Mingling [Summer 2019]

Re: General Mingling [Summer 2019]

Re: General Mingling [Summer 2019]

Re: General Mingling [Summer 2019]

Re: General Mingling [Summer 2019]

Re: General Mingling [Summer 2019]

Re: General Mingling [Summer 2019]

Re: General Mingling [Summer 2019]

Re: General Mingling [Summer 2019]

Re: General Mingling [Summer 2019]

Re: General Mingling [Summer 2019]

Re: General Mingling [Summer 2019]

Re: General Mingling [Summer 2019]

Re: General Mingling [Summer 2019]

Re: General Mingling [Summer 2019]

Re: General Mingling [Summer 2019]

Re: General Mingling [Summer 2019]

Re: General Mingling [Summer 2019]

Re: General Mingling [Summer 2019]