Visions of Another Day
Title: Visions of Another Day
Fandom: Avengers, Once Upon a Time
Characters/Ship: Steve, Jefferson, referenced Bucky, March Hare. past!Jefferson/March Hare, referenced past!Jefferson/Alice, slight Steve/Jefferson
Wordcount (if relevant): around 750
Warnings: Slash, previous death, violence.
A/N: What you need to know about this is that I use Chris Evans (Our Captain) for the face of my March Hare counterpart in a OuaT AU I've been plotting. Thus, relevant.
--------How Do You Take Your Tea? --------
“Wait…WAIT!” The desperation, strangling the throat of the speaker jolted him. There was something strangely familiar about the tone that sent Jefferson’s pulse in to rapid motion. Tilting his head slightly from the corner of his eye came a flash of color.
When the man stopped inches in front of him he had the strange impression that the gasps of breath weren’t from exertion but a concentrated effort not to fall apart. The face, eyebrows knotted and face full of disbelief, scratched at his memory trying to claw its way out. This couldn’t be him. He was too broad, too put together. Yet… he had seen so many strange things. Silence moved across the other man’s lips until he finally managed to speak in strained tones.
“You’re alive. How are you alive?” A hand, much larger than Jefferson recalled it to be, came the crook of his shoulder and neck as the man’s disbelief required physical reassurance.
“You remember me?” The misplaced man didn’t recognize his own voice.
“Of course…” Jefferson couldn’t tell if the speaker was offended or befuddled. “I could never forget you.”
The surge of images hit Jefferson like a dodo mallet into his midsection.
A crooked smile as he pulled him out of bed with the former night’s companion still passed out. A strong arm holding him from toppling over the edge. A whirlwind of limbs as the twin of this stranger tried desperately to avoid Dormy’s ‘prettifying’. Stolen moments before his honor took him to another. A voice carrying into the night. The touch of lips to the stomach of a woman most hated for the precious life within as the mother slept unaware. The whirlwind of the tavern’s flickering lights as he was pulled into a frenzied circle. Two hands covering his sight with the warmth of tempting breath at his ear. Tears over an unmarked grave. A hand ruffling the hair of a young, speechless, child. That same hand finding his chin and forcing him to see the light when all that was before them grew dim. Closed eyes just millimeters away from his own as the sun peaked over the horizon.
But the last…the last. How he had tried to forget it. Card soldiers with spears in hand. Boots smashed into lean shoulder blades. Bruises around the welts as an insistent voice shook him into reality to run. Not before seeing the shame engraved into eyes, as his companion was knocked unconscious and drawing into a sea of white and black.
“Are you real?” He breathed, his mind itching with the many delusions the queen of hearts and this world had inflicted upon him.
“I could ask the same.” There was light amusement bordered with disbelief.
Heart taking over mind Jefferson’s hands flew forward, catching the other’s face between his palms. He pulled himself up swiftly to let his lips dance with a pair that used to be so familiar. Used to be. The momentary reaction faded quickly as the other froze. Jefferson let himself fall back, his spirit crashing back into place as he did so.
“B-Bucky?” The other asked with a hint of fear.
“...You’re looking for someone else.” Jefferson said through gritted teeth as he ripped himself away, ignoring the sputtered protests that started when he was several steps away. His own sorrow drowned the words out.
Damn this place. Damn her. Damn memories. Da-
An arm caught his wrist. “WHAT?” He screamed as he once used to in his psychosis.
“I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to apologize for.” He mumbled trying not to be arrogant as he shook free of the other.
“You look like a friend of mine. From a long time ago.” He started to explain.
“You look like…Well…” he snorted.
“He’s gone?” the stranger guessed.
“Taken. Occupational hazard.”
“War?”
“Something like that.” Jefferson crossed his arms over his chest defensively. These were dangerous lines of thought.
“That’s…that’s how I lost…well, the not-you.” Jefferson only nodded, shoulders slumping. “Captain Steve Rogers.” The other man held out his hand.
“Captain.” Jefferson acknowledged, providing his own name.
“Well, Jefferson. Maybe you can help me. This place is…rather unique.” The captain mirrored his posture.
Jefferson snorted. “That’s putting it nicely.” Steve smiled.
“Can you tell me anything about it?”
“That might take a while.” Jefferson chewed the inside of his lip. A thousand secrets he kept. He had been dying to scream them.
“I’ve got a while.” Persistent. Forward. Gentle for all of his brawn. So much like--- the look of concern he was receiving halted that thought.
“How do you feel about tea?”
Fandom: Avengers, Once Upon a Time
Characters/Ship: Steve, Jefferson, referenced Bucky, March Hare. past!Jefferson/March Hare, referenced past!Jefferson/Alice, slight Steve/Jefferson
Wordcount (if relevant): around 750
Warnings: Slash, previous death, violence.
A/N: What you need to know about this is that I use Chris Evans (Our Captain) for the face of my March Hare counterpart in a OuaT AU I've been plotting. Thus, relevant.
--------How Do You Take Your Tea? --------
“Wait…WAIT!” The desperation, strangling the throat of the speaker jolted him. There was something strangely familiar about the tone that sent Jefferson’s pulse in to rapid motion. Tilting his head slightly from the corner of his eye came a flash of color.
When the man stopped inches in front of him he had the strange impression that the gasps of breath weren’t from exertion but a concentrated effort not to fall apart. The face, eyebrows knotted and face full of disbelief, scratched at his memory trying to claw its way out. This couldn’t be him. He was too broad, too put together. Yet… he had seen so many strange things. Silence moved across the other man’s lips until he finally managed to speak in strained tones.
“You’re alive. How are you alive?” A hand, much larger than Jefferson recalled it to be, came the crook of his shoulder and neck as the man’s disbelief required physical reassurance.
“You remember me?” The misplaced man didn’t recognize his own voice.
“Of course…” Jefferson couldn’t tell if the speaker was offended or befuddled. “I could never forget you.”
The surge of images hit Jefferson like a dodo mallet into his midsection.
A crooked smile as he pulled him out of bed with the former night’s companion still passed out. A strong arm holding him from toppling over the edge. A whirlwind of limbs as the twin of this stranger tried desperately to avoid Dormy’s ‘prettifying’. Stolen moments before his honor took him to another. A voice carrying into the night. The touch of lips to the stomach of a woman most hated for the precious life within as the mother slept unaware. The whirlwind of the tavern’s flickering lights as he was pulled into a frenzied circle. Two hands covering his sight with the warmth of tempting breath at his ear. Tears over an unmarked grave. A hand ruffling the hair of a young, speechless, child. That same hand finding his chin and forcing him to see the light when all that was before them grew dim. Closed eyes just millimeters away from his own as the sun peaked over the horizon.
But the last…the last. How he had tried to forget it. Card soldiers with spears in hand. Boots smashed into lean shoulder blades. Bruises around the welts as an insistent voice shook him into reality to run. Not before seeing the shame engraved into eyes, as his companion was knocked unconscious and drawing into a sea of white and black.
“Are you real?” He breathed, his mind itching with the many delusions the queen of hearts and this world had inflicted upon him.
“I could ask the same.” There was light amusement bordered with disbelief.
Heart taking over mind Jefferson’s hands flew forward, catching the other’s face between his palms. He pulled himself up swiftly to let his lips dance with a pair that used to be so familiar. Used to be. The momentary reaction faded quickly as the other froze. Jefferson let himself fall back, his spirit crashing back into place as he did so.
“B-Bucky?” The other asked with a hint of fear.
“...You’re looking for someone else.” Jefferson said through gritted teeth as he ripped himself away, ignoring the sputtered protests that started when he was several steps away. His own sorrow drowned the words out.
Damn this place. Damn her. Damn memories. Da-
An arm caught his wrist. “WHAT?” He screamed as he once used to in his psychosis.
“I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to apologize for.” He mumbled trying not to be arrogant as he shook free of the other.
“You look like a friend of mine. From a long time ago.” He started to explain.
“You look like…Well…” he snorted.
“He’s gone?” the stranger guessed.
“Taken. Occupational hazard.”
“War?”
“Something like that.” Jefferson crossed his arms over his chest defensively. These were dangerous lines of thought.
“That’s…that’s how I lost…well, the not-you.” Jefferson only nodded, shoulders slumping. “Captain Steve Rogers.” The other man held out his hand.
“Captain.” Jefferson acknowledged, providing his own name.
“Well, Jefferson. Maybe you can help me. This place is…rather unique.” The captain mirrored his posture.
Jefferson snorted. “That’s putting it nicely.” Steve smiled.
“Can you tell me anything about it?”
“That might take a while.” Jefferson chewed the inside of his lip. A thousand secrets he kept. He had been dying to scream them.
“I’ve got a while.” Persistent. Forward. Gentle for all of his brawn. So much like--- the look of concern he was receiving halted that thought.
“How do you feel about tea?”