chuju | fighting for something

[ Bucky shifts on the mattress and obligingly takes hold of the edge of her hoodie, and gingerly works it down the line of her back, then tugs at the sleeves, around the bend of her elbow and then over her bandaged arms. He's the most careful when getting the hoodie off her forearms: trying not to bump those fractures or bruises, trying not to apply any pressure, trying to pull the hoodie loose with it barely touching her skin. At one point, when his hands curl against the fabric of the sweatshirt, his fingers — both the metal and the human — brush against her skin instead.

So he's slowly undressing Daisy Johnson in his bed. This is fine. Everything is fine. Jesus christ.

He tamps down on that entire train of thought, smothers it like a fire without any oxygen to feed itself any longer, and in the end he drops a crumpled hoodie in her lap. His eyes are riveted to her arms, now that he can get a better look at them. When he speaks up, his voice is low, worried. ]

You should've taken a turn in the pod.

[ The way he removes the article of clothing from her body, the extreme level of care he puts into each and every touch... it takes her breath away. He's treating her like glass, not because he sees her as breakable but because he's trying not to break her further. It's a fine distinction in her mind but it changes everything. There's nothing sensual about what's happening and yet this is the most intimate she's felt with anyone in a very long time. ]

I was more worried about you. [ She admits it quietly but without shame or regret. Because that's who she is: Daisy Johnson puts everyone else before herself, she always has and she always will. ] You needed to get out of there and I needed to make sure you were okay.

[ He tilts his head. Looks at her askance. They haven't known each other very long, all things considered, but he's already picking up on some things. Her perpetual concern for him, even when they were complete strangers. Always redirecting away from herself, and wheeling the attention back onto the other person instead. Daisy has this large found family in SHIELD, and yet he wonders— ]

You're always looking after other people. Do others look after you?

[ Daisy goes very still, feeling like a deer in headlights. Something in her wants to cry, to rage that no, no one ever takes care of her. She's Quake, she's the strong one, the heavy hitter, the best fighter SHIELD has. She wants to tell him that she can count the number of people who have ever taken care of her on one hand and still have fingers left over. But there's a part of her that's terrified of saying any of that aloud. What if it's too much for him to deal with? What if she doesn't deserve that? What if this is her role in life and she's not meant to have anything more?

So, after a long moment of watching Bucky with a conflicted mix of fear and longing, she lets it all fall away, pulling up her mask of being Okay because it's the only armor she has right now. There's even a bit of humor in her voice when she answers him, trying to make a joke out of something that's so important. ]

Come on, Barnes. Everyone knows the superhero's supposed to take care of herself.

[ Nevermind that she does a shitty job of it. Just look at the state of her. Which is a perfect way to deflect the conversation and move it past this very uncomfortable subject. Grabbing his bag, she moves it closer to him, the bottles rattling with the motion, and then picks up her own. ]

We should take these.

[ She dumps the bag's content on top of the hoodie in her lap, the three bottles clinking dully against each other. A white bottle with a complicated name she's never been able to pronounce and two prescription bottles: one with a pain killer suited to her injuries and the other with the equivalent of extra strength tylenol. It's the white one she goes for first, twisting off the cap and tipping a few out of the bottle directly into her mouth. She doesn't even go for the water yet. ]

[ And there she goes again, bricking up those walls. Bucky's a king of skittish avoidance himself — he hasn't even been telling his therapist the whole truth — and so he knows. He knows. He gets it. Probably more than he should.

And yet, even he knew that it was a back-and-forth. He'd looked out for Steve in all their youth, and then Steve had repaid the favour later, refusing to leave Bucky's side even when the whole world turned against them, even when Bucky himself didn't remember the man. How did that saying go— when you can't run, you crawl, and when you can't crawl, you find someone to carry you?

He fishes around in his plastic bag, although unlike Daisy, he does go for the glass at the same time. He takes a deep swig of the water and a mouthful of the pills (the dosage neatly typed up on the side of the bottle, carefully-measured and tripled against his metabolism, SHIELD doctors evidently on the ball). He tips his head back and swallows, letting the moment sink and settle between them before he eventually loops back. Quietly poking holes in her logic. It both was and wasn't a joke, and he could tell. ]

Y'know, being a superhero doesn't mean doing it alone. I mean, that was one of the very first things I learned. When Steve was Cap, he had me and the Howling Commandos with him. Then there were the Avengers later. When he went rogue — to help me out — others stuck by his side.

[ It's probably too serious. She probably wants to escape this particular topic — god knows he would — but he couldn't let it sit without saying something. ]

So, I mean, I'm just saying. People gotta help each other out, have each others' backs in the trenches. [ A flicker at the corner of his mouth. ] Annnnd now you're off the hook and I'm letting this drop.

[ A team. That's what Steve had. It's something Daisy hasn't had in a few years now, not a steady ride-or-die one like she had before. Ever since they'd gone their separate ways after the fight with the Chronicoms, she's bounced around from group to group, helping out on mission adhoc and then going back to doing her solo thing. The talk of Bucky joining her sometimes was the first time she'd really considered what it would be like to have a partner again, something she hasn't had since Mack took over as Director. Someone to have her back, to know her strengths and limits, to be there...

She can't be alone for long. Things go badly when she's alone, her mind twisting around all her insecurities and fears and digging her deep into a hole she has trouble climbing out of. Depression is the simple word for it, though she's not sure any therapist could even begin to tackle her mountain of issues.

A few moments of silence pass as she fiddles with the bottles, then she glances over at him in unmasked gratitude. ]

Thanks. For all of it. [ More fiddling, now specifically with the full-strength painkiller. When she speaks, it's hesitant and quiet, like she's afraid to even ask. But after what he'd just said... ] Could I stay for a while? I don't really want to be alone when I take this.

[ His blue eyes drift down to the bottle, the label, realising the strength of the meds and that they'll probably either knock her out or make her loopy. Side-effects he really hasn't had to worry about in a long, long time himself — you practically need horse tranquiliser to put a super-soldier down.

All of which means Daisy's probably going to be stuck here at his place for a while tonight, but. When Bucky tests that idea in his thoughts, like probing a loose tooth with his tongue, he realises that he doesn't mind. He hadn't wanted to be alone while he licked his wounds either, and it's good to have someone keeping an eye on her if she's going to be so dosed up.

So, case in point. The whole not having to do it alone thing. ]

Please. And I figured you would. You promised me a movie, remember?

[ It's a small lifeline, a ghost of humour. ]

[ If he'd said no or that he wasn't comfortable having her around when he might fall asleep, she'd have understood. It would have been back to her original plan of saving the heavy hitting meds for tomorrow when she took a turn in the healing chamber, even if it meant being uncomfortable in the meantime. But he says yes and she's so grateful she could cry. ]

This wasn't exactly how I pictured our first movie night, but I'll take it. [ She smiles easily. Next time, they'll do it right. Snacks and drinks and not being in horrible pain. ] What should we watch?

[ They'd talked about options before but she's not sure what he has available. Considering they'll both be exhausted, possibly loopy messes, anything requiring paying too much attention should probably be out.

She twists off the cap of the bottle and tips out a few pills (of a much lower dosage than his), popping them in her mouth before finally reaching for the glass of water to wash them down. And then it's done, an act of trust Bucky probably doesn't even fully comprehend. ]

[ Bucky eases himself back on the bed until he's flopped back against the cushions; he tries not to do the tired old-man grunt as he settles in, but he winds up doing it anyway, sagging into the pillows like a marionette with its strings cut. And then he casts his mind through the list of movies scribbled in his notebook in both his cribbed handwriting and Steve's tidier one, and considers one which feels like it might be even vaguely relevant to Daisy. ]

Sam told me to watch Men in Black. They're kind of like SWORD, right?

Kind of, yeah. Just with uniforms and ridiculous codenames.

[ She drops the bottles back into her bag before setting it aside next to the glass of water, choosing not to tease him about sounding like an old man just then. The injuries are a good excuse, but if he does it again when he's back to full strength, all bets are off.

Adjusting her position, she leans back against the cushions beside him, letting out a much more dignified sigh as she relaxes into them and tries to find a good way to prop up her left arm. Oh yeah, she's not moving for a long time. ]

It's a good one, though. I think you'll like it.

[ He turns the TV on with the remote and then starts to fuss with the apps, trying to figure out how to pull up the relevant streaming service. God, he'd been around when TVs were first invented, and now look at them. Right when it seems like Daisy might have to step in and intervene, he figures it out and manages to pull up the movie. ]

I will point out, [ Bucky adds with a flicker of mischievous innocence, as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, ] that you've got a codename and I heard Coulson always wore a suit.

[ She watches him struggle but refrains from offering help. He'll get it eventually, she has full faith — and she's actually proud of him when he does. Is that weird?

Her arms hurt too much and he's too injured to reach over and give him a good playful smack to the chest, so instead she moves her leg to nudge her foot against his. ]

Coulson's fashion choices are his own, thank you very much. You'll never catch me in a suit like that unless I'm trying to break someone out of jail. [ Yep, she's done that. ] And my codename is a lot cooler than theirs. You'll see.

Jailbreak experience. Does this mean you should be my one phonecall if I ever wind up in lockup again?

[ Amused and warmed by that playful nudge, he glances over at her; for the moment, still a bit too entertained and absorbed by Daisy to kick off the movie just yet. ]

Although in the interests of full disclosure, I guess I gotta say that I have jailbreak experience, too.

I guess that means you'll be my one phonecall then, too.

[ She gives him a bright smile, amused and so glad for the way their conversations always seem to get back to even ground where they can both relax and enjoy themselves. Being with him is comfortable and comforting, two things she could stand to have a lot more of in her life, and she's pretty sure he could too. ]

[ It really has been the most pleasant, unexpected surprise: how easy it is to settle into this groove with her. The back-and-forth, the teasing patter and the jokes and the serious confessions and the careful peeling-back more details about each other. Getting to know each other better. It's a constant excavation, and Bucky's always startled at how much he isn't getting tired of it. There's always more and more to learn about her.

Right now, though, his energy's humming along at a low ebb, and so it's all he's got in him to press play and then become one with his pillows. The start of the movie is immediately engaging and despite his tiredness, he finds himself following along. After the alien crash-landing in upstate New York, he remarks aloud, ] Movies like this must've felt weird after the Chitauri.

[ No matter how enthralling it is, though, Bucky's already accepted the fact that they're definitely not going to get through the whole movie, so he doesn't mind talking throughout. Behind a yawn, he adds, ]

And I'm gonna need your official additions to my pop culture watchlist, by the way. Sometime.

[ Daisy's used to running on empty, pushing herself well past exhausted and burning fumes until she practically collapses. There are some days it's the only way she can make it through, the only way to escape the nightmares that torment her, the only way to survive the loneliness that tries to eat away at her. But sitting here with Bucky... She lets herself feel it. Lets herself sink into the warmth of the bone-deep weariness without fighting it.

She nods her agreement with his statement about things being different after the Chitauri. Everything had been different. Sometimes, it's hard to remember what life had been like Before. ]

That's easy: Terminator. [ She yawns as well, his prompting one of her own before she can add: ] One and two. We'll have a double-feature night. [ And there's a second yawn. ] But you don't have to write it down now, I can remind you later.

Holding you to that.

[ His notebook's in his non-combat leather jacket in the closet, so all the way across the apartment, so basically on another planet.

Bucky's trying to concentrate on the movie, but he finds himself hyper-aware of her presence beside him: the weight of another person on the mattress, the fact that she's the first person to be here, to sit here, to see where he lives. Thankfully, she took the side of the bed which means his right arm's against her: warm flesh and blood, a soft human cushion radiating heat, rather than cold jarring vibranium.

When the villainous alien eats the pest exterminator and takes up shapeshifting residence in his discarded skin like a sagging meat suit, he makes a thoughtful noise in the back of his throat, a sort of huh. ]

Okay so thank god Skrulls don't actually do it like that—

[ Back when the team was still together and whole, they'd have the occasional movie night, everyone crammed onto a couch together or spawled on the floor in front of the TV, personal space practically nonexistent as they all clung to the physical reminder that everyone was safe. Tonight with Bucky is kind of like that... but it's also very different. She can feel the warmth radiating from him, feel his heartbeat echoing through her body. It's nice. It's really, really nice. If they were closer emotionally, she'd love nothing more than to curl up against him and soak up that heat while using him as her own personal pillow.

The thought makes her smile, though Bucky's comment turns it into a comical grimace. ]

There's a species out there that does it like that. I don't remember what they're called, but we left that planet real fast.

You know, you're really taking the shine off the whole 'jaunting across the stars' thing. [ Bucky's nose wrinkles, amused and barely serious. ] In general— Was space full of wonder or full of nightmares or kinda both?

[ If this movie is anything to be believed, it's both. He still wonders what it's like out there, too. Never got the chance to leave the planet like some of the other superheroes had. ]

[ She grins at his comment, her heart feeling lighter for his presence and good humor. This evening would have been very different if she'd just gone straight back to her own apartment alone. ]

Kinda both, just like here. [ Glancing over at him, her smile softens. ] But the wonder is pretty damn great.

Do you still get to fly around in the spaceship? Just, y'know. Wondering. [ Har, har. ]

Are you asking me to arrange a field trip, Sergeant Barnes? [ Her eyebrows raise for full teasing effect, but then she laughs. He really is adorable. ] Because I could probably do that. We could go visit Fury's super-secret space station.

[ Bucky jolts, now fully distracted from the film as he props himself up on his elbow and swivels, the better to turn and stare at her. Half-laughing: ]

Wait, you— look, you can't just keep offhand dropping shit like "Fury's super-secret space station". Of course I want to go visit a super-secret space station, what the hell. This better not be a joke, because I am entirely down for a field trip.

[ A beat, a small ripple in his easy demeanour like an accidental skip in the record. ]

As long as he, uh. Doesn't hold any grudges about the whole "trying to assassinate him" thing.

[ Daisy had maintained that SHIELD didn't have anything against him despite all the ruin left in his wake, but Bucky still suspected some agents were more wary of him than she was — and then, Fury hadn't just been accidental collateral damage either. He'd been a specific target. The director may have faked his death, but the two sniper rounds through the wall and into his chest had been real. ]

[ Oh no, he's being adorable again. Her heart aches in that exquisitely painful way that makes her want to do something supremely stupid that neither of them is ready for, so she pushes those pesky feelings aside as best she can and focuses instead on reassuring him. It is a totally valid concern, and she can guess at how much these things bother him — a whole lot more than he ever shows. ]

I mean, he may not want to have brunch with you, but he's also just not much of a Brunch Guy in general. [ But this deserves more than just a flippant joke, so she lets the humor fade away for the next part. ] If Coulson and I vouch for you, it'll be fine.

[ But she can't just leave it at that, so her tone perks up again as she informs him: ] So before our field trip, you'll just have to meet my dad. Easy.

Oh, is that how it is? We're at the meeting-your-parents stage?

[ His voice is already warm, but before she can panic or think she overstepped, he adds, ]

I'd love to. Like I said, I've only heard good things.

[ Those bloodstained trading cards in Steve's hands. They'd left an impression. He'd told Bucky about it during those long months on the run, when he'd been filling his friend in on everything he'd missed, on the origins of the Avengers and that initial battle which had brought them all together. Phil Coulson died still believing in that idea, in heroes. Well, it's an old-fashioned notion. ]

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