juststeverogers | Evening of the First Night--- for heirtothearcane and westfallcorndog

Steve is much more careful in the way he eats than Harrow was, mostly because Viatorus' clothes are very nice and he doesn't want to make a mess of them. The soup is as good as it smelled, and Steve is glad Harrow liked it. Having working taste buds again must be weird for him.

When he's finished, he looks between Harrow and Viatorus carefully. They have a point. It has gotten rather late since all of this started. Between the panic and the running around, Steve hadn't really noticed it. But it was already dark when he'd gone to get the udon.

"What would you prefer I do?" He asks Viatorus quietly. "If it were my body, I'd grab a shower and get to bed, but...is that allowed? Would you rather I didn't?" To Harrow, Steve nods.

"You don't get a choice in the matter with all the soup. You need to give my body at least a wash." He's laughing while he talks though, so it's clear Steve isn't upset.

Current Mood: exhausted

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From:

westfallcorndog

When Steve leaves, Harrow looks up at what V motioned to. Runes above the bed! Harrow's very first instinct is to roll off the bed, and he finds it's surprisingly easy to land on his feet when his legs aren't ten miles long. He's able to escape, though, and so they must not have been runes to trap intruders. Sensing that there isn't any danger he very carefully crawls back into the bed and looks up at the carvings once more.

"What exactly do they do?"

He smiles to see Steve return and pats the bed. Join your body in the boudoir, Steve.

"And Steve, I promise I won't make it weird. I had to share a bed a whole lot smaller than this growin' up, I know how it goes. No stealin' blankets, no talkin' in the middle of the night, and mind your hands."

From:

heirtothearcane

The reaction surprises Viatorus but other than blinking a little at the rolling away, he doesn't react much. It does take him a second to answer though. "It's protective. It keeps things out."

Steve gets a smile and Viatorus nods, rubbing at his wrists again. "I'll go and make your tea." Then he looks to Harrowheart. "Would you like anything? Tea? Milk? Orange juice?"

From:

juststeverogers

"I wasn't worried." Steve's reply is pleasant but drowsy. He nods politely at Viatorus's offer of the tea and then sits down on the bed. Harrowheart gets a sidelong glance from Steve, and then a faint smile. "I'll be here in case anything happens. You've got your inhaler I packed for you?" He's sure the other does so he doesn't worry much.

The bed is remarkably comfy. Maybe. Yeah Steve stretches out a bit. That's better. He'll just...just rest his eyes until Viatorus comes back.

Shouldn't be but...a...minute....

From:

westfallcorndog

To the question of his inhaler Harrow grunts in the affirmative. It's someplace within arm's reach... if anyone can summon the will to move in this bed, that is. Is it only so comfortable because it's been so long since his body needed sleep? Could there really be this much of a difference between a good bed and everything he's ever known? Maybe Steve's body just really likes sleep.

It's scary to think about, though, despite all of the excitement. Sleeping is a little bit like dying. What if he dreams? What if they're unpleasant? As his eyelids begin to droop the image of the rune atop the bed slowly fades into darkness. It's there to protect from bad things. That means bad dreams. That means it's safe to sleep.

Sleep. And when he wakes up, all of this will be over...

From:

heirtothearcane

The incredibly comfy bed does have something to do with the fine bedclothes, perfect mattress and specially chosen pillows. No expense is spared for the Dreamwalker's bed. Who else knows the value of a good night's rest more? And, of course, it's all perfectly tailored to bring sweet and numerous dreams... Even though he never does any dreaming there.

Viatorus meanwhile, is pottering about the kitchen. When he does make the cup of tea he just about finishes when a thought interrupts him. He's pretty sure he saw a magnificent looking book on possession or bodyswapping or something along those lines in the library. If he could grab it, or read through it, it might help them immensely. As long as nobody has taken it out... He glances out the window. Late as it is, the library has no reason to close. Maybe he could just dash out and read through it. Steve and Harrowheart are safe here, and he doesn't have to be long...

He brings the mug in and sets it on the bedside locker, rushing to grab keys for the apartment so that he can lock them in and let himself back inside. "I won't be a minute, I've just remembered something that might help. I'll be as quick as I can. Lyall is there if you need anything. Remember to drink the tea!"

Does he notice that the two of them have fallen asleep? No. Everything is weird in this body. He doesn't understand half the things he's seeing and hearing.

From:

juststeverogers

Viatorus' warnings have fallen on deaf ears. Steve is already curled up under the duvet letting darkness wash over him in a gentle wave. There's a sense of drifting in the inky blackness, of things moving and shifting beyond what Steve can see. He's not aware, not at first. Just existing in this sea of the Unconscious feeling the ebb and flow of the collective tide.

It wants to drag him off. Somewhere else--away from here. That is the first sensation Steve has. He doesn't want to do that. It's nice here. As nondescript as here is. He begins wading into shore, enjoying how effortless the decision seems to have made his movements. His clothes aren't wet in the least, which is good. These old hand me down suits are paper thin under the best of circumstances.

Rather than a beach, Steve finds himself inside almost as soon as he's out of the water. The creaky floors are familiar. Up three flights past Mrs. Nelson's door. He'll have to thank her for allowing him to use her sewing machine later, when they have a little extra after rent. Someone's selling papers outside--Steve can hear them through the window as soon as he lets himself into the apartment. Bucky's not home yet, but somehow Steve doesn't feel like the place is empty.

And sure enough, there's a knock on the door. How long was he waiting? He can't tell, and it hardly matters. It's still bright outside. Steve heads for the door.

"Harrow? It didn't take you long I hope. You ready for that tour I promised you?" It's the most natural thing in the world. He'd been meaning to show Harrow his world, and now's the perfect time to. Harrow's in his own body,a s is Steve, and why wouldn't they be?

From:

westfallcorndog

Steve's apartment. Of course. The layout isn't the same as he remembers, but it isn't different, foreign. This is Steve's apartment, new and exciting. Though he couldn't remember the exact moment when he set his meeting with Steve he was certain he must have done it. To be greeted at the door like this felt right.

He smiles at the sight of his friend and nods at the offer of the tour, but he doesn't invite himself in. Something tells him he can't see this place until Steve will let him.

From:

juststeverogers

It's smaller, much smaller. And everything is done in cream and brown hues. Steve steps aside and pulls Harrow in after a moment.

"Come on, I'll show ya around here first, before we head out. My ma's place was a little bigger, but not much. I couldn't afford it after she passed on." There's hooks up behind the door covered in suit coats and hats, and a narrow hallway that leads to a tiny kitchenette slash bedroom, with an itty bitty bathroom off around the corner. The place is cramped but homey, obviously well lived in. And at the end of the bed, jammed up along the wall next to a dresser is a small writing desk, with a couple of Steve's sketchbooks sitting on it.

"Eh? Not bad for a coupla bachelors doing odd jobs day to day, right?"

From:

westfallcorndog

Inside of an Earth home. Steve's Earth home. This is an exotic place to be sure, no matter how familiar the setting may seem after some of the things Harrow's seen in the Nexus. He wanders through the dreamscape behind Steve, mindful not to touch anything as he absorbs the memory of this place. What he sees as he looks around brings a soft smile to his face. It is a nice place for two bachelors, he thinks, and though he doesn't appear to open his mouth to say those words Steve ought to be fully aware of this opinion.

He lingers curiously near the sketchbooks but doesn't attempt to touch them, then returns to quietly examining the room. The sight of the bed makes him smile, and though again he doesn't open his mouth he seems to be laughing. Without speaking he thinks aloud "I wanted to make a joke that sharing a bed wouldn't be strange if you imagined it was like back home, but I'd be the Steve and you'd be the Bucky. I didn't realize you only had one bed."

Harrow looks around, suddenly very conscious that someone else does live here. Where is he? Will he arrive?

From:

juststeverogers

"Hm? Oh, the bed. It used to be a couple of cots, but it got so damn cold in the winter that we ended up shoving them together anyway. Bucky's mom was getting rid of some old stuff, so we decided it'd be easier to just toss them and put a bed in there." Steve shrugs, easy as can be. With space a premium, it ended up being more efficient that way, and it's not like Steve ever had to worry about bringing a dame home.

The expectation of another person washes over Steve, and he turns to look out the window. It'd be nice if it wasn't...it's not winter outside. The leaves are all shades of yellow and orange. A smile breaks out across Steve's face.

"Come on. It's not far, I'll show you where I go to school and we can see if Buck's done at the factory yet or not."

From:

westfallcorndog

Factory. Harrow doesn't understand, but he doesn't ask. If he's going to see it soon he doesn't matter that he knows what that word means now. He smiles too at the sight of the warm-colored leaves. It's a city, sure, but the colors remind him of home. He hold out a hand for Steve to guide him by. He's full of all Steve's energy to see the school – a place that might as well be as foreign as a factory to him.

"I've never gone to school," he says-thinks. Under normal circumstances he might be ashamed of that, but somehow here he doesn't feel that way. This is a pleasant place and it fills him with honesty and positivity. "Will you tell me what you study?"

From:

juststeverogers

The details aren't quite right, but for the moment Steve doesn't question it. Dreams are never exactly right. They're outside almost instantly, walking down the busy sidewalks past cars as big as boats. Harrow will smell popcorn on the brisk autumn breeze, and more than a couple people say hello to Steve and harrow as they pass by.

And really, the most odd remark they give Harrow is that he ought to get a coat. But all in jest. All friendly. That's admittedly some wishful thinking on Steve's part. He likes the camaraderie of the Nexus. Wishes it was more like that back home. The nondescript brick building Steve points out a few blocks down from them yet looks empty today.

"I take art classes there. Every other evening cept' Sunday." It's taken him longer to get a degree since he can only attend classes when they have the money to spare for tuition. But Steve is all smiles as he leads Harrow down another street. The gridlike pattern of New York city is easy to navigate. "I haven't seen how much the city has changed since I lived here." Steve admits as they walk. "I hope it still has the charm of this one."

From:

westfallcorndog

So much warmth and goodness in this place. Brooklyn is a city of peace and prosperity for sure. Every sight and smell conjures up implications of things he can't see and fills Harrow's unaware mind with a vivid sense of depth of reality in this dream. He smiles at people in kind as they smile at him, but for the most part keeps his hands to himself and follows Steve, mindful not to bump into anyone or anything.

And there's the art building! He nods seriously but doesn't feel very serious as he does it. His thoughts are occupied with a desire to see the place, though the scenery changes quickly and he forgets that small wish as soon as the dream shifts around him.

"I think any place you go will be charming and friendly. You have that effect on people," Harrow think-says with a bright smile.

From:

juststeverogers

A thought occurs to Steve as the shifting autumn sky sends leaves blowing around their feet. They make a rustling that seems to echo off the tall buildings that are reaching up to the sky. But not in Azerothian smooth towers and spirals. Blocky buildings of brick and metal.

"Is this the first dream you've had since you became an undead?" Because Steve knows they're dreaming, now. It took a while for it to dawn on him, but now that it has he wonders how he missed it, with the way everything is fuzzy around the edges. He concentrates harder, and they're approaching the Brooklyn Bridge from the bank of the East river. Steve points out at it.

"That's the bridge I'm always sketching." Things are shifting, moving around him as Steve thinks. An old movie theater with news reels running updates on the war effort. "Here's the theater I got beat up behind."

Edited Date: 2016-01-30 01:03 am (UTC)

From:

westfallcorndog

Dreaming? This place? Harrow looks around, confused and yet suspiciously content. When his eyes land on Steve again he laughs quietly, and with it comes a casual shrug. "If this was a dream I couldn't be here. You said you'd show me Brooklyn, remember?" He doesn't remember the exact moment Steve said it, of course, but he believes it to be real. It's been too long since he's had to separate dreams and reality, and this is such a pleasant one, no matter which it is.

He marvels quietly at the bridge, hands in his pockets, and spends a breath imagining the smell of the water and the metal and stone and all the people who make up the city. By the end of his breath they're at a movie theatre. It's so well-suited for movies! The seats are all tiered just slightly, the screen is so big. What a wonderful place to enjoy movies. He imagines how it must feel for the room to be full. Strangers all around in the darkness. Would they talk like they do when he shows movies, or would they keep their thoughts to themselves? Hopefully not the latter.

"Those people who hurt you, are they still here? We could get even," he suggests, his tone as friendly as it was before.

From:

juststeverogers

"I don't remember what they look like. I got beat up a lot. After a while all bullies start to look the same." Steve dismisses it with a wave of his hand, though for a brief moment--as though he couldn't help but remembering--there's the alley and the trash can lid sitting at their feet like a discarded shield. Steve's nose is bleeding, he's got a black eye. But there's a yell and a holler from the alley entrance.

"Hey, punk! What'd I tell ya about hanging out back here?" There's worry in the man's voice, and as soon as he trots over he gives Harrow a once over. "You're bringin' tourists home now Stevie?" He extents a hand immediately. "James Barnes. You can call me Bucky."

"Or Jerk."

"Stuff it, Rogers."

From:

westfallcorndog

Steve's hurt? There's a sensation of tension that shakes Harrow into a momentary lucidity, but before he can react the dream is changing again. A man is approaching, and before he even introduces himself Harrow knows who it is. He feels familiar, somehow, like a long lost friend. He's seen him before in Steve's sketchbook on the day they met, but more than that he's aware because Steve is aware. This is Steve's dream, after all, whether Harrow will admit it or not.

"Ha-hey!" Harrow greets, laughing. Something must have changed his perception of himself as a part of his new reality that is Steve's dream; he speaks with his mouth moving and isn't afraid to interact with parts of the world. He swigs his arm wide and comes in for the shake with gusto. "Bucky! Man, how you doin'?"

From:

juststeverogers

"I see my reputation precedes me." Bucky's everything Steve isn't at first glance. Tall, broad shouldered and confident. A crooked grin and an easy to get along with persona. "Harrow, right? Steve's told me all about ya. Thanks for lookin' out for the guy. Punk doesn't know how to stay outta trouble."

"...I did, didn't I?" Steve's smile has turned distant. Remembering Bucky in his normal clothes is hard. Not because Steve can't, but here, seeing his lifelong friend...all he can think about is that he's leaving. "When I couldn't go to sleep. I'd tell you all about my friends. About Verity, and Harrow, and Amelia..."

From:

westfallcorndog

"Me? Look out for him?" Harrow laughs. He claps a hand on Bucky's shoulder and moves to stand beside him with a good view at Steve. "I think it's the other way around. Steve must be making up for his past. He's the one who keeps me good and honest, man. Guy's ten pounds of morals in a five pound bag."

He goes to laugh but to his surprise finds he can't. A pang of sadness that he can't explain hits him in the chest. Suddenly the things he's feeling are conflicting, confusing, overwhelming. Steve has nights where he can't sleep? The friends he's made in the prison dimension he's trapped in are on his mind in those moments? Bucky has to go away soon. He has to go to war.

A heavy realization slowly forces its weight down on his mind. Six years of undreamt thoughts of war come to bear in a single moment and before he can stop himself the words are tumbling out of his mouth.

"I didn't mean to lie to Steve that you wouldn't die. I didn't mean to lie but we'd just met and he cared about you and I think about that shitty lie all the time, Bucky! All the time! He's gonna get back home and find out you got ground up or blown up or shot up and I didn't mean to lie but I couldn't tell him the truth! So just stay here. Just stay here and don't go! Let's all just stay here. Let's just stay here in Brooklyn. Let's just stay here and... Don't go..."

From:

juststeverogers

"Don't worry about it, Harrow. I ain't fixing to die that easy." Bucky smiles again before walking over to Steve and putting both hands on the man's slim shoulders.

"Steve. You can't keep doing this to yourself. It ain't healthy. Coming back here all the time, pretending things ain't the way they are...You gotta wake up, Stevie. Now you're bringing folks with you? You gotta live. I know it ain't home, but you can make it one. I don't think Harrow here wants to see how these dreams end." Bucky gives Harrow a sympathetic smile.

"You know you gotta go, right Steve?"

From:

westfallcorndog

Bucky is so understanding. But of course he is. He's the ideal friend. Steve wouldn't care so much about him if he weren't such a good man. Despite how frantic Harrow had been a moment ago he finds himself pacified by the calm demeanor of the man and the dream around them.

But he doesn't want to go. Someone's finally taken him to see Earth. He's in New York, for Light's sake! Him! And it's so inviting, and the people are so kind. From where he stands he shakes his head at Steve.

"I wanna stay," he says. "Don't go, Steve. But if you do... I'm staying."

From:

juststeverogers

"Steve. Stevie." Bucky pulls Steve into a hug, even as the smaller man is withdrawing, holding himself. "It's not your fault. You didn't do this."

There's something off about the voice. All of the light has left it. It's empty. Rough. Tired. The voice of a man who has been through hell. His left arm is entirely gone, replaced by a metal one. His hair is longer and unkempt. His expressions are muted, but he tries to smile at Harrow and Steve. It's a twitch of his lips and nothing more. Weak. Sad.

"...It's not your fault." The Winter Soldier says, letting go of Steve. He gives Harrowheart a long stare. "He needs you. I'm not there. You are."

From:

westfallcorndog

Okay, things are getting unsettling now. Harrow looks around, worried, but the Bucky he thought he knew is gone. These new eyes that stare at him are as unliving as any corpse's he's seen. This stranger is in Bucky's place, and there's something beneath his hollow surface that raises the hairs on the back of his neck.

Harrow doesn't break eye contact, but instead follows the advice of the dream ghost. He reaches out for Steve and tries to pull him closer. If they have to run from this man he's not leaving Steve behind.

From:

juststeverogers

"...It's Bucky, Harrow." Steve says quietly, standing his ground and meeting the Soldier's gaze. "He's not trying to kill me, or blaming me, so this isn't a nightmare." His own eyes are sad, but strong willed as ever.

"Bucky, huh?" The Soldier shakes his head, but he's not fighting or lashing out. Just standing there watching the pair of them. "Maybe. Somewhere deep down. I know you. That's enough, right?"

"Till the end of the line, pal." Steve finishes, taking Harrow's hand and turning to walk away. "Til the end of the line..." New York is fading in a swirling mess of emotions and shapes, unstable and unsteady as Steve begins losing all control of his dream. He hadn't been able to fully control it, allowing memories and emotions to shape it more than he'd meant to. But he's waking up. Stirring, and then clawing himself into a sitting position as he looks around the strange room.

He's not home. He's--and there, sleeping next to him is his own body. Steve reaches up to touch at his face, and sighs deeply, drawing his long legs up and hugging them close to himself.

From:

westfallcorndog

Harrow's eyes close tighter before they slowly open. For a long while he doesn't move. He stares at the runes on the top of the bed. There are so many thoughts in his head that he can't consider any of them. His mind is blank. After much hesitation he turns to see who's moving beside him.

Viatorus? He's in bed with Viatorus? Before he can process it a deep wave of shame washes over him. He draws the blankets up defensively until they bump his chin, and that's when he notices his hands.

Peach. Warm. Small. Steve. He's Steve. Steve is V. He took a shower. He's in bed now. Time feels like a blur, but... He hadn't fallen asleep. Had he? He'd just been awake! They had their bodies back. Steve found his portal home. They were touring Brooklyn. He saw the river! He saw the bridge! The school, the room, the theatre, the alley... Bucky. And then the man with the metal arm and the wild hair that Steve thought was his friend.

His chest starts to rise and fall too rapidly. He's breathing out of control. He has to get a hold of himself. Just calm down. Count. Breathe. Slowly.

Slowly...

Calm...

Okay.

He stares at Steve-as-Viatorus, eyes wide. His lips part, but it's a while before he can speak. What should he say? What can he say?

Finally he whispers, his voice as small as it can be, "Is everything okay?"