when the day is long and the night is yours alone

[ex_enlisted288]

WHO: Steve Rogers
WHERE: House #18, Village Environs
WHEN: Late November/Early December
OPEN TO: Steve + Bucky, Steve + You
WARNINGS: PTSD and associated triggers

---

[ House #18; Closed to Bucky ]

[ The illness afflicting half the village brought more than a debilitating fever and hallucinations with it. It brought memories, visions of people that Steve hasn't thought about for a long time. That he hasn't let himself think about, frankly, because going down those particular lanes are not conducive to fighting a war.

He went into the ice as a soldier. He came out as a revered national icon, twisted into some legendary figure whose weight he has no idea how to carry. It doesn't stop him from carrying it, because that's what Steve does, but he's occasionally thought it would be a nice thing to set down. One of those five-minute breathers they allowed in basic before the drill sergeants kicked everyone's ass back into gear. He hasn't thought about Lehigh often either, but that's mostly because of the computerized Zola and all the revelations (and maybe some lies) that led him to bring down SHIELD.

All that swirls around in his head now. There's no enemy to fight here, outside the wildlife and whatever the Observers have planned. No enemy, nobody to train, and sometimes Steve thinks that it might be better for the village if he just wandered off one day and never came back. It'd leave a space open for someone more acclimated to this kind of life. Someone better suited to helping the other villagers, instead of a down-on-his-luck former supersoldier. And the problem is that most of this is subconscious. He's not wandering around looking for a good place to commit suicide. Or trying to shut himself off from other people. (At least not anymore.) He's just pushing forward, taking things one day at a time, and struggling not to suffocate under it all.

And then, after everyone has endured the three-day fever and recovered enough to escape the hospital and go home, Steve starts having nightmares. Like the nightmares he used to have every night after they thawed him out. He still has them frequently, but it's been more 'couple of times a week' steadily, and now it's every damn night. He watches his mother die, he watches Bucky fall, he watches helplessly as two people he cares about try to kill each other in Siberia. He watches himself lie down in the superplane, shield clutched against his chest, and wait to freeze to death. Every single night, it's the same jumble of images and emotions.

Then one night he wakes up screaming, trying to fight his way out of the covers, and tumbles out of bed. His body lands on the floor with a distinct thump. ]

Ow! dammit -- son of a fucking bitch. [ at least it's a quiet string of curses? ]


[ Village, Early December ]

[ Without the serum-aided healing, Steve is not bouncing back from the edge of death in a mere week or so. He's stuck on the longer way around to getting better. This means he's taking walks in the morning, instead of runs, and keeping to more well-populated areas. Like his house. Or the Inn. Or the schoolhouse. He might even drift by the forge a few times to see what's going on.

The point is that Steve has to take it slow in order to heal up and get back to his normal self. And moving slowly tends to make him grumpy. (No, really, ask Bucky. He'll tell you stories of Steve's shorter, younger sick days.) The point is also that he probably wouldn't mind a little distraction in any of the places he frequents. If it's anywhere near his home, though, be prepared to share his attention with Martin, the ragdoll cat who actually runs the household. ]

Comments

[unraisehell]

[ Wynonna is doing very much the same as Steve. She doesn't have healing mojo to miss, but she's used to being a healthy person in pretty damn good shape, with access to things like antibiotics and not acid-trip worthy snake venom that made her see her twice-dead sister.

With the ghosts of dark circles still under her eyes and a pallor that still hasn't completely faded, she looks a little surprised to see someone else in the forge that isn't the person she's used to stopping by to pester. But it makes sense, Tony's probably feeling as shitty as she is.]

Oh. Hey. Looks like he cleaned up my graffiti before we all got sick. [ There were zoom seeds, and a lot of soot dust, and- well, that's just a recipe for cartoon dicks on every surface when you add an Earp to the mix. Or this Earp, anyway. ]

[ex_enlisted288]

[ Steve was looking for Tony, who is clearly not here, and has been trying to look around at the various projects without touching anyone of them. Just what he can visibly see. It's good that the other man has some workspace, even if it's far lower tech than anything at Stark Tower. ]

People were getting from your graffiti? [ He raises an eyebrow. Sure does sound like a story there, Wynonna. ]

[unraisehell]

[ She smirks a little, and points at some of the leftover scrawlings in the soot dust- or the faded remains of them anyway. ]

I kinda had a little zoom seed party for one before we all started dying. Actually, it was hard to tell I was even sick at first, since- well.

[ She waves off the story ] Are you a friend of Tony's, or just looking for something pounded? [ She grins again, and nods towards the hammer where it's resting by the forge. ]

[ex_enlisted288]

I'll bet that was an interesting party.

[ He almost asks if she remembers much, but he's not up on the properties of that particular seed, and decides not to pry. ]

Uh, I know him. Just ... I was just.

[ checking up on the guy. ]

Anyway, it doesn't matter. Tony ain't around.

Village

[can_fight_ugly]

[Part of Anne's tactic for adjusting to this new place was to establish a routine that was as familiar as she could make it to her life in San Francisco. Morning coffee was out, as was any time updating on recent events through various news channels, but she could keep her morning jog.

It's brisk and cool before breakfast, perfect weather to keep a steady pace down to the spring and back.

She catches sight of someone else that's so familiar in her world, it's like she's meeting another celebrity. She wasn't exactly inexperienced in such regards, given where her career as a corporate lawyer had taken her, so she knew how to behave, but it's a wonder how all of these very particular people came to be all in this one place, and how is she connected to any of them?

She slows down and veers course to approach with a friendly wave, a little out af breath coming off her jog.] Hello, I couldn't help but notice a friendly face from my world. At least, you do look very similar to someone I've seen on the news quite a bit.

[She offers her hand in greeting,] I'm Anne Weying.

Re: Village

[ex_enlisted288]

[ Routines are good practice for keeping your head on straight. Steve would go so far as to consider them necessary. Especially in a place like this, where sudden shenanigans and loss and general craziness gets rolled up into one big 'well that happened' almost daily.

So seeing someone out and about doing their own jog is a nice thing.

Several things happen at once: Steve slows his own walk the minute she veers, there's a fleeting look of panic, and then his demeanor shifts from random walker to The Captain. ]

I'm sure I've been on the news more than people want me to be, Miss Weying. [ He extends his own, almost managing a professional smile. ] Steve Rogers.

[can_fight_ugly]

I'm sure you weren't particularly crazy about the air-time either. [Not all of it had been flattering. She had to take a neutral tone of it when discussion the matters with her fellow law-minded colleagues - and a lot of discussion had been had - but there had always been a part of her that pitied the predicament they had found themselves in.]

Have you been settled here long?

[ex_enlisted288]

Some things you just have to ignore and keep going. [ That goes for teammates who don't like you, military superiors who don't like you. Civilians who decide you aren't who they want as a representation anymore.

He releases her hand and shrugs. ]

About four and a half months. What about you?

Village, Inn

[ombranera]

[ Another day, another free bowl of soup, another round of wondering who's shrine he'd pissed on to earn himself smack in the middle of new and exciting winter surrounded by strangers and strange creatures. At least back home he'd have his knives- here? He has no such luck.

But-

There is the obvious benefit in that nearly every person here? Is some manner of beautiful. Weary and pallid as the man might seem, Zevran cannot help casting a long, lingering look at the breadth of Steve's shoulders and cut of his jawline. ]

There's more room by the fire if you do not mind company.

[ex_enlisted288]

[ It's not that Steve has to wonder what he did to land him here. He thinks he knows; this is punishment for being selfish, for holding his best friend's life above everyone else. And he'd still make most of the same choices all over again so it's also not like he thinks he's leaving anytime soon. Irish-Catholic guilt is a potent thing.

But he does sometimes wonder if this means God does have a sense of humor after all. ]

I don't mind company. [ he's also generally oblivious to people looking him over, so Steve simply settles down in the other free chair, balancing his stew bowl on one knee. ] If you don't mind me eating lunch.

[ombranera]

I have always found a good meal is enhanced by pleasant company.

[ And Zevran knows himself to be quite pleasing. Assuming his companion would likely be the same- perhaps that is generous. He is at the very least pleasant to look at and sometimes? That is more than enough. ]

To that end, I do not mind at all. Where are my manners- I am Zevran, Zev to my friends-

[ He offers a hand across the table. Bold of him to do so back home but- elves are not so common a thing in other realms, it seems. The stigma is less. ]

[ex_enlisted288]

It can be, [ Steve says slowly like his mouth is relaying an opinion as the man decides on it. In real time, is probably what the internet-obsessed public would say back home. ] But a good meal in and of itself is enhancement enough sometimes.

He forgoes digging into said meal long enough to reach out and shake Zevran's hand politely. Being an elf is interesting and clearly not a friendship deal-breaker. ]

Steve Rogers. My friends call me "Oh god, what now". Nice to meet you, Zevran.

village, schoolhouse

[demiurgency]

[Despite having a room and a bed and everything else in the house he's now sharing with Tommy, Billy's spent a lot of waking hours since his arrival in the schoolhouse trying to study up on wilderness survival like he's cramming for finals. Today is no exception, and when he hears a set of footsteps walk through the door, he doesn't even look up at first.]

Hey, Alex, where's that book you were talking about that had the--

[That would be the point where he looks up, and realizes who exactly has just walked through the door.]

Oh. Sorry, Cap--Steve, er, Mr. Rogers. Sir. I, uh, thought you were someone else.

[ex_enlisted288]

[ Steve is kind of half-expecting Bruce to be holed up inside, pouring over books and taking notes. But maybe he's off with Tony, sciencing it up. The person who is inside is one he's never seen before. One of the new arrivals, maybe? ]

Uh... [ He says, a little startled despite himself. Then blinks and offers a small, sheepish smile.] Steve is fine. I don't hold rank anymore.

[demiurgency]

[He's a newish arrival, yeah, but he seems plenty familiar with the inside of the schoolhouse, and also apparently with Steve, given the way he's staring. And then abruptly not staring, giving Steve a slightly sheepish smile of his own before shaking his bangs out of his face.]

Uh, sure. Steve it is. I'm Billy. I'm--a friend of Wanda's. I don't think we've met yet.

[That's definitely the less complicated answer. Less complicated is probably better, right?]

[ex_enlisted288]

[ Steve weathers it about as well as he weathers staring from kids back home, and just raises his eyebrows in a silent invitation to continue. ]

Ah. Well, if you're a friend of Wanda, then you're a friend of mine.

[ Sometimes, but not always. ]

[freightcars]

[ He sleeps better here without the serum than he ever did back home with it; he can manage a full eight hours on a good day, and he takes every single one of them he can get. It's especially easier sharing a house with Steve, lacking the noise and presence of the Inn. A lot of things may have changed, he may have adapted a hell of a lot better than Steve, but one thing he still hasn't managed?

Sleeping through sounds. Any footstep, any shutting door, any creak, any voice outside his room has him up and alert with a hand searching beneath his pillow for a weapon he doesn't need here anymore.

The walls aren't thin enough to hear Steve wake up gasping, to hear his nightmares, but screaming?

Bucky's up like a dart with his hand on Steve's door around the time he hits the floor. He jerks it open without so much as a knock, hair in disarray and sticking up like a god damn lunatic, shirtless, barefoot, naught but sweatpants on him and with a wild look in his eyes.

Expecting... something.

Sleep-addled, his eyes search the dark of Steve's room for signs of intrusion, of threat, of anything, and all they find is Steve in a god damn mess on his floor tangled in blankets.

Confused eyebrows creep up, lips part, and he searches for a second for words he's too sleepy to find. ]

...d'you get in a fight with yourself?

[ex_enlisted288]

[ Steve would like to get that much sleep. He really would. He'd also like to display a little envy, but Bucky went through so much horror that being anything other than outwardly supportive makes Steve feel guilty. He is glad and relieved that his friend is doing so well, make no mistake about that. But sometimes he does get a little jealous.

And then there are nights where he wishes Bucky's hearing wasn't quite so good. Like this one. ]

Yes, [ He huffs, remaining in a heap just long enough to catch his breath. Or catch some of his breath, and then braces one hand against the floor, pushing himself up halfway into more of a seated position.

It still feels a little like a train hit his chest. ]

Didn't mean to wake you up.

[freightcars]

[ As soon as he gets that huffy yes, Bucky's inviting himself into Steve's room. Crossing the thresh hold with a limber gait, and reaching out with a hand that isn't so much an offer as a demand for Steve to let Bucky help him up. It comes in the form of a flesh hand wrapping around Steve's bare wrist, and a gentle but insistent tug. ]

I'm tellin' the landlord.

[ He threatens wryly, voice raspy from sleep, throat dry. Come on, buddy. Don't worry about it. ]

House

[minus1twin]

[Wanda doesn't know if she's going to find Steve at home but she wanted to talk to him and it's the only place she can think to work. She knocks on the door and then tests to see if it's open.]

Steve?

[She really hopes he's home.]

Can we talk?

[ex_enlisted288]

I'm in here, [ He calls back. In here, of course, means the living room and Wanda will realize that as soon as she steps inside. Hopefully without having to be invited in because she's family.

Steve is curled up on the couch under a blanket, his Shakespeare book propped open against his chest. ]

You okay?

[minus1twin]

[Wanda quickly closes the door behind her, her feet whispering across the floor as she steps into the living room. A light smile plays across her lips when she spots Steve on the couch. She's used to things like this after living at the compound together and it's something she's missed.]

Yes

[A beat.]

Maybe no.

[Wanda takes a seat on the couch and slips off her shoes. She then wiggles her feet beneath Steve's blanket and then relaxes against the back of the couch.] I was going to move houses. I don't know where yet but I wanted to let you know first. In case you needed to find me.

Forge Probs

[constructionzone]

[ When Steve comes by the forge, he looks hesitant, and honestly Rhodey can't blame him. Rhodey wonders for a second if Steve even knows he's there - but then, probably. This place is too small for anything else.

Rhodey appears to be messing with connecting a hook to a stick to a weight when he looks up, and for a second there's something of a searching look. Tony's talked, a bit. ]

Stevie Wonder. I was curious if I was going to see you soon.

[ Look, it's still Rhodey. ]

[ex_enlisted288]

[ He's never sure of his reception in the forge. He shouldn't care. Honestly, he has rarely truly and deeply cared what someone thought of him and every single person that did can be counted on one hand. A lot of this mess is his fault, but some of it is Tony's as well. Steve isn't going to shoulder this burden alone. They both screwed up.

But it is very much like walking across eggshells (or fire) every time he stops by to see how the other man is. And today Tony has been replaced by ... James Rhodes. The surprise is evident but it vanishes quickly. As does the flicker of uncertainty about the look Rhodey gives him. ]

Colonel Rhodes. [ He'll have to forgive the formality. Steve has too much respect for the man (and his career) not to tread lightly here either. ] Welcome to our enforced vacation.

[constructionzone]

[ Nine times out of ten, Rhodey will do what's expected - take Tony's side. It's probably extra expected, given he was the guy who was around after Steve stabbed Tony in the chest with the shield Howard Stark made. It's like a blueprint of how to make the man hurt.

But he's not going to take sides, explicitly. Taking sides got them to a really bad place, back home. His smile is a little rueful, and it could either be his internal monologue or the title. ]

See, now I feel like I should have opened with Captain Rogers.

[ He make minute adjustment and lifts the spindle to see if it'll spin. Not quite there. ]

I also feel like any vacation, enforced or no, should have a higher rate of umbrella drinks.