farsickness | your heart was glass, i dropped it [open]

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your heart was glass, i dropped it [open]

WHO: Bucky + OPEN
WHEN: June
WHAT: Missing Steve so, you know, going to the inn and pretending to get drunk because he actually can't.
WHERE: The inn.
WARNINGS: TBA

The day Steve disappeared, Bucky felt it. He doesn't know why he felt it or why he'd gotten the inkling but he hadn't been shocked when he couldn't find him in the usual haunts. He gave it two days before calling it, though, searching the woods to see if he'd just gone off camping or something equally stupid, and then he decided the best course of action was to go to the inn and go through the motions of getting drunk.

He can't really get drunk, not with his metabolism, but he can give it a good try and he's doing it now with the ale that the inn sells in pints and quarts. He picks a table where he can see the exit and his back's to the wall, naturally, but otherwise he isn't hiding in shadows like he might have been a few months ago.

He and Steve have been through everything together and maybe it's rich of him to be missing him when Steve has had to go through the pain of thinking he'd died and then would never get his memories back but here he is and there's nothing he can do about that. Here, they had a chance to just be two boys from Brooklyn again, though, and that's something that Captain America and the Winter Soldier would never get in the world they're from.

The barmaid comes by to clear his empties and he says to just keep them coming. It's the principle of it, trying to get drunk, and maybe if he keeps drinking it'll eventually happen. There's gotta be a limit to how much alcohol one body can process, right? His liver isn't going to keep up forever with this and eventually he's going to be able to actually get the drunken stupor he's aiming for.

"Here's to Captain America," he says to no one in particular. The name isn't relevant here, is it?

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"Two? Three? Doesn't matter, he's not coming back. It's not how places like this work."

In as much as he knows how places like this work - he'd only every known this one and the one that Steve described. He doesn't know if Steve went back there or back home or somewhere in between but right now, Bucky feels like a shit friend. He'd wanted to spend more time with Steve and he'd done a bad job of it, living with Merlan and spending his time at the Forge, and now he's being punished.

"My shit luck, right?"

"I came back after being gone. Nothing is impossible," she reminds him gently. "But yeah, it's shit luck he's gone. I wanted to meet him. He sounded like a hell of a friend."

She settles her chin into her hand, drink forgotten as she takes the sight of him in. This was his best friend and he had every right to feel rotten about his absence. She'd never had someone like that in her life, someone she'd known from when she was small. They'd never been encouraged, friends. If she could fix it, somehow, she would have but she's just an angel.

Instead, she pulls her chair next to his and leans her head against his arm. She's here and maybe she's not Steve but she's here.

"I'm so sorry, James," she says, her words just for him, soft and gentle.

"I came back too," Bucky says. Anecdotal evidence says that it can happen, genuinely, but he doesn't want to think about that. What he does want to think about is trying to get drunk and he hates that his body won't cooperate with what his mind desperately wants.

Merlan draws up closer to him and says his name in that soft, gentle way of hers and he feels a little of the sadness recede but only for a moment. Nothing is going to heal this, not for a while. Maybe not ever.

"I'm used to everything being taken from me. This is just another chapter in the book."

"Mm," she murmurs and it's a quiet acknowledgement of everything. "I know it hurts every time, there's no denying that. I wish it wasn't so hard on you. You're the last person who needs it in their life."

Her own life has been much the same, parents and friends taken from her without warning or explanation, she gets it. The thing is, it never gets better and you have to live with that ache day in and day out. If she could fix it for him, she would have. In her opinion, he needed only good things in his life, now.

"I wish I knew how to make it a little better. All I can do is be here when you need me." She can't make it better, she knows it, but if wishes were horses, as the saying goes.

"I know. And you are," Bucky assures her. "It's just hard to lose over and over again. Tomorrow I'll wake up and it'll be you and I don't know what I'm gonna do about that."

He'll have to move on the same as he always does but it would leave a hole in his heart that he doesn't think will heal for a long time, if ever. He's never been in love with someone before and this is the first time someone has really touched him down deep. It's going to be hard to shoulder a loss like that.

"You'll let me keep you close?"

"I know," she says. "It never really gets easier over the years. The places people are supposed to be are empty of them and you notice them every day. I wish it did get easier, though, but the edges do get a little less sharp over time." The loss of her parents, her uncle, are less sharp now but the spaces the ought to inhabit were still empty of them. The loss of her universe is still jagged like the loss of her humanity. Sometimes that loss was a yawning abyss she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to cross. It's a different loss than his, but it's still a terrifying struggle when she thinks about it. She tries not to, burying herself in work or in him. Somehow, he makes those edges less sharp. It's not something she thinks she can explain properly, either.

Merlan sighs a little, pressing her cheek against his shoulder.

"It would hit me extraordinarily hard if you were gone. I'm used to the shape of you in my life, James." Her voice was soft and small but rich with emotion. "I'm not sure what I'd do without you, either. I think I'd spend the rest of my life hoping and waiting to see your face again, as maudlin as that might sound."

She knew she would, because even when he woke first, she reached for him in her sleep, throwing an arm out as if to pull him back to her. Merlan knew the sound of him working by ear, the sharp crack of an axe against wood, the sound of metal against anvil and hammer as he worked on his knives, the jingle of a lock as he moved about the forge. He fit. And to think of the absence of him, now was a sorrow she couldn't really face without half-drowning in it.

Her lips thinned as she pressed them together, silent for a long while, trying to ignore the tightness in her chest and the way her eyes brimmed with tears. She blinked and they scattered down her cheeks as she half shook her head.

"That tomorrow," she whispered, her voice cracking, "I hope it's a long, long time away. For once in our lives, we deserve better."

She's silent for a beat, her throat tight.

"Keep me as close as you can," Merlan murmurs in a voice that might still be small but there is a ferocity in it that rings true. "I don't want to have to miss you anymore than is absolutely necessary."

No, Bucky doesn't want to particularly be alone right now and the warm weight of Merlan pressed against him does a good bit to stave off the melancholy. He's miserable without Steve and he's going to be miserable for a while but he also knows that he has to pick himself up and dust off or he's going to slide back into the depression he was in before Merlan and before he started doing something with his life.

Her voice is a little small and he presses a kiss to the crown of her head. "I think we'd do better if we weren't in public right now. I can't get drunk anyway - I was just giving it a shot for the appearance of it. I might as well go home and spend time with you instead of downing ale and pretending it works."

The ale's good but the solace from Merlan's arms is better.

"Mm," it's a soft sound and her eyes close for a moment as he kisses her head. "I think we'd do better elsewhere, too." She loves him and seeing him miserable makes her ache. But what she can do for him, she will. She's not meant to take it all away, but she'll give him what she can and soothe the hurt the best she knows how.

The ale doesn't really help either of them. The only thing they can do that helps is drown their sorrows in each other. She's alright with that, she always is.

"You wanna carry a sorry sack of a drunk back home?" He's neither drunk nor so sorry he can't walk on his own but the joke has him giving her the shadow of a smile before it fades away as soon as it appears. He covers one of her hands with his right, thumb rubbing over her skin.

"I don't wanna feel so alone, if you can manage that. Think that's in the angel's bag of tricks or do I need to knock at another door?"

"I can manage an awful lot," she murmurs, leaning to kiss his temple. "For you, I'd manage more than that. As long as we're on the same world and even if we aren't, I'm with you, James. Always. I'd even carry you home if you really wanted."

She gently booped him on the tip of his nose and smiled. She wasn't going to leave him alone. It'd take less than a minute to miss him.

"Well, let's go home. Might as well get out of here and stop taking up space just being depressed."

If he's gonna be depressed, he'd rather do it back in his own house with his own girl there to patch up his broken heart. He kisses her lightly in response to the nose boop.

"Love you."

Home is better, she agrees her face lighting up at his soft response. She cups his cheek for a moment, searching his face before kissing him gently.

"Love you, too," she murmurs against his lips. It's a firm answer, soft and full of emotion but quiet, just for him. She unwinds herself from him almost reluctantly, stretching a little.

"Gonna walk, run, or ride?" she asks a few moments later.

"Walk, I think. We can at least admire the beautiful things about this place while we make our way back."

It's a decent walk back to the Forge and their house and it's nice weather today. Bucky thinks it'll lighten his spirits a little to take a walk in the warm sun with Merlan. He reaches for her hand.

"Come with me?"

"Always," she murmurs the word light on her tongue. If he'd asked her to pack her bags and roam with him, she'd have said the same. Where he goes, she does. Her fingers are petite, curling around his hand to hold it.

She'd flown just to fly, earlier, so the walk is accepted, her hand in his. And it is a nice day, just the sun and a light breeze and the trees that will shade them, and they don't really have anywhere to be. Their timetable is their own. There isn't much save getting merchandise out when needed and the only things she spends any real money on are the horses, honey, and the flour for pancakes — if those last two could be considered a luxury. There's enough money to go around that life is easy enough that their time isn't set to a daily grind.

Magic helped an awful lot, though. She lifts her head to the wind and smiles, leaning into him a little just for the contact as they walk.

It's so simple, walking hand in hand, but it feels right in a way that a lot of things don't. He feels normal with Merlan, like he wasn't the Winter Soldier for years, and when they actually reach the Forge and their house, he stops and turns a bit, offering his arms to her.

"Let me hold you for a moment? I just need to have you close so I can make sure you're in the here and now and you're not an elaborate dream."

She wraps her arms around him without hesitation, burying herself against him, her cheek against his chest. Merlan needs it, too, that revelation that this isn't some dream.

He's as real as she is. Sometimes, sometimes she has moments where she's not sure it is real. They come less and less made so by James' presence, she thinks. All of this is theirs. The clearing, the Forge. Everything they do, now, it's theirs.

"I'm here," she murmurs. "No dream, just me." Her wings curve around them, too, protectively, shimmering gently.

Her wings folding around him make him feel more grounded and solid than he has since he discovered Steve was gone. It's such a simple thing, to be held, but he'd gone so long without it that every touch from Merlan feels like a gift.

"Well, I hope you don't ever leave me. If you do, I'm coming with you."

"I hope I don't leave either," she murmurs. "I honestly don't think I can bear a life without you in it. So, we'll go together, whenever, wherever."

Her lips curve in a smile as she looks up at him.

"I'd never leave you behind."

"Good. I've been left behind a lot. Not by choice, I'm not saying Steve wanted to leave, but it definitely isn't the first time I've been separated from who I love."

Bucky kisses her forehead. "You want to watch me try to make knives again and give me pointers?"

She knows she'd never leave him behind by choice but this world had a habit of wresting people from their places more often than not. Merlan would fight it if she could. She was supposed to be a celestial being right now, surely she could. Her fingers came up to stroke his cheeks gently and she closed her eyes for a moment.

"Mmm," she murmurs, "I can do that. They are getting better."

"They've got to be good enough to use. I gotta earn my keep," Bucky teases. He's getting better at getting the weight even on his knives but the balance has to be perfect to throw them; he's been able to use them as handheld weapons but nothing so good to throw so far.

"I'll give it another go this afternoon with you supervising. Banging the hammer will probably get my mind off losing Steve and everything else."

"I'd say you already earn your keep in spades," she says with a soft laugh, then hums gently and nods. "Swinging a hammer always distracted me pretty well when I was in need. It's good, hard work. Feels good, too, once you get into the right rhythm."

She can think of other distractions, too, but working the Forge is always a go-to for her. That and enchanting weapons, making potions, and the general use of magic. But right now, she's fine with their arms around each other as she leans into him.

"Hey now, just because I'm good at sex doesn't mean I'm earning my keep," Bucky teases. "I definitely could do more around here."

He works very hard, honestly, but he can't help but tease Merlan a bit while he has the chance. It helps take his mind off Steve, honestly, so he'll take the laugh even if it's a brief one.

"Mmm, there's that, too," she murmurs, her eyes crinkling as she smiles up at him. "But I suppose there's always something to do when it comes to the care of this place."

He does work hard, she knows it, sometimes too hard but she can't say much on that matter. Merlan works just as hard, too, for good or ill. Her hands wander across his back some and she lets out a soft sigh.

"I have no complaints to lodge," she adds with a gentle laugh. "It all looks good, the crops grow well, and the horses lack for nothing. Which reminds me, we should get you riding again if just to get used to it. The mare is gentle enough for an easy ride. I keep meaning to name her but nothing seems to stick. Maybe that's your next job, mm?"

"Yeah, I should learn how to ride. I just think about being too heavy, you know? Is that a stupid thing to think?"

Bucky thinks it might be. Surely he's not the heaviest person to ever sit a horse but he's mindful of just how dense his body is and how heavy he can be with a hunk of vibranium for a left arm. He guesses a horse wouldn't mind as long as he was gentle with her, though, and he wouldn't be anything but gentle with another living creature. Everything deserves his care and respect.

"We don't really ride horses where I come from and I grew up in the city. I didn't have a chance."

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/eyes DW, where was my notif?

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