[ The tug on his sleeve brings him to a wobbly halt, and it's a could thing too, because he's not sure he could have stopped on his own volition. The ground beneath him slides in a fit of mud from the rain, Bucky's hands on his thighs as he leans over, tries to drag something other than water into his mouth.
His lungs are burning. ]
Shit. Shit. Hey, hey, Rogers. You okay? [ He doesn't have the energy to straighten for the moment, lets his worry convey through his voice and stay there. ] Christ. Oh crap, man. That was -.
[ Then he's swinging around in a stumble, hand curving around Steve's shoulder. ] Talk to me, sweetheart. Let me hear those dulcet tones.
[ Snorting. ] Don't go soft on me now, Rogers. I need your magical eyesight t'find us somewhere to stay tonight. Won't help if you're mixing tears with the rain now, will it?
Not sure if'd make much difference at this point. [ He nudges him teasingly, but he quickly turns his focus back to their surroundings, searching for any signs of shelter. ] I'll save the tears for later.
[ The sounds of the downpour might help to keep them covered, but it unsettles him how it hinders detecting whether or not someone's approaching, but he knows Bucky's probably right, no one else will be out here in this weather, and if they are they're mostly injured. And that's when he sees it, pulling him out of his thoughts - a small wooden hut in the distance, only just visible through the rain. He points towards it, grinning with relief. ] Over there, you see that?
Sure do, and ain't that the sweetest sight y'ever did see.
[ His pace doesn't pick up simply because he can't go any faster, feels his limbs heavy and pained with every step. But still, he's grinning, wide and wonky. ] Can we jus' - y'think anyone's in there?
The second, maybe, but it's looking pretty damn good from this angle.
[ The question is something that's already crossed his mind, and looking at how even the promise of warmth and rest doesn't add any bounce to Bucky's step worries him. ] You good if I run on ahead when we get closer to the thing? Check the place out and make sure it's desolate.
Sure. I'll try not t'connect with the mud. [ Bucky's smile is rough but genuine, adjusting the straps on his back and nudging his head forward in the direction of the hut. ]
[ Steve walks backwards a few paces, watching Bucky to make sure, and then flashes shim a grin. ] If there's trouble, I'll scream.
[ He picks up speed, finding energy that he didn't know he still had left, and makes it to the small hut in no time. The mud makes it hard to remain in stealth mode, but at least the rain impairs both vision and hearing, and with the shield in hand he checks the perimeter first and then inside.
There's not a soul in sight. The roof of the hut is old and rotten in places, which allows the rain to drip in slowly, and the floor could be cleaner, but there's a tiny fireplace where they can warm themselves, a bundle of sticks already gathered and relatively dry, and there's enough space for two to find rest. It's not exactly home, but it'll do.
Steve drops the bag and the shield, and heads back out to Bucky, a grin spread wide as he shouts over the storm. ] I give the all clear on this one, and it's not half bad.
[ It's pure relief that spreads across his face upon Steve's return. Bucky's mouth twitches and he crosses the muddy mess of ground towards his friend, shoulders hunched against the wind and the rain and the general ache of moving.
Hopefully inside they won't have to yell at each other to be heard.
Bucky falls in line easy, hands curled white around the pack straps, but he gives him a soft grin, nudges him a little. ] As long as we get t'stop, I don't care much what it looks like.
[ To help Bucky make it to the hut in one piece, Steve pulls the bag down his shoulder and takes the strap out of his hand, throwing it over his own back instead to lighten his load. He looks done in, and Steve can handle it. ] Don't worry, Bucky, once we're instead you can collapse for the evening.
[ He walks them around to the front in silence to save further shouting and pulls open the door, holding it as he nods for Bucky to go first. ] Home sweet home. Ladies first.
[ Bucky laughs, lets Steve take the load of his pack even though he shouldn't. But it's just them two now, no need to worry about arguments of favouritism or any snide comments about how close they are.
He enters the hut with a faked saunter, but it's lacking in his usual characteristics, he's exhausted, but with it enough to understand that Steve's worried for him, needs reassurance. ] Smells just like home.
[ Closing the door, Steve slides the rusted bolt above the basic latch across and into place - if they are to come under attack during the night it might not do much in terms of safety, but it could buy them enough time to become alert and ready to fight back
He dumps the backpack down with the other. ] It'll do us until this storm clears up. [ He nods to the tiny makeshift fireplace. ] You think it's safe to light this thing? It won't do much to keep us warm, but it might dry out our gear.
I think we're good. It's too dark for anyone to even see the smoke, right? And if we keep it down low enough they won't see the embers through the window.
[ He stretches for a moment, back cracking. ] What's the orders, boss?
The rain's got us covered good for now, too. [ He crouches down before the fire, grabbing up the firewood and spreading some of it out, and then drags his pack closer, hunting through it's contents, which has mostly been protected from the rain, and fishes out a box of matches and a flask.
He spares a glance up at Bucky. ] Sit your ass down and make yourself comfortable. Those're your only orders.
Hey, no. Lemme help. [ Bucky's dragging his feet as he moves, but he's still trying to keep going, face scrunched up at the ache. ] C'mon man, you're drained, same as me, I can't let you take the wheel on this one, okay?
[ There's something slightly strained in Bucky's voice, like his worry is amplified. Maybe seeing Steve fight isn't as easy as he makes out. ] What can I do?
You worried I'm gonna take the entire place down with me? [ He flashes him a goofy grin, but the exhaustion still shows through in it. ] I'm not stupid enough to start a fight with you, so let's get this thing going.
[ He hands him the flask, which is filled to the brim with whiskey - for a rainy day. ] Splash a little of that on there and then help yourself to it. I'll see to the rest. [ The hut is dark and it's difficult to make out some of the shapes around them without the flashes of lightning seeping in to help, and as he passes the flask over their hands touch, linger longer than might be appropriate, and his eyes meet Bucky's. ] You're freezing. Once we get this thing on the go it might be better to take off some of the clothes, hang them up to dry.
[ Bucky's shiver has nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with Steve's hands, bigger now, broad in a way he's not going to get used to. Without a word, he does as he's told, splashes the booze down on the wood and then takes a gulp, too close to the man beside him, and Bucky shudders.
Shrugging. ] Yeah, maybe. Y'think they'd make this stuff more withstandin', huh?
His lungs are burning. ]
Shit. Shit. Hey, hey, Rogers. You okay? [ He doesn't have the energy to straighten for the moment, lets his worry convey through his voice and stay there. ] Christ. Oh crap, man. That was -.
[ Then he's swinging around in a stumble, hand curving around Steve's shoulder. ] Talk to me, sweetheart. Let me hear those dulcet tones.
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[ The sounds of the downpour might help to keep them covered, but it unsettles him how it hinders detecting whether or not someone's approaching, but he knows Bucky's probably right, no one else will be out here in this weather, and if they are they're mostly injured. And that's when he sees it, pulling him out of his thoughts - a small wooden hut in the distance, only just visible through the rain. He points towards it, grinning with relief. ] Over there, you see that?
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[ His pace doesn't pick up simply because he can't go any faster, feels his limbs heavy and pained with every step. But still, he's grinning, wide and wonky. ] Can we jus' - y'think anyone's in there?
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[ The question is something that's already crossed his mind, and looking at how even the promise of warmth and rest doesn't add any bounce to Bucky's step worries him. ] You good if I run on ahead when we get closer to the thing? Check the place out and make sure it's desolate.
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Go on, I'll catch up.
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[ He picks up speed, finding energy that he didn't know he still had left, and makes it to the small hut in no time. The mud makes it hard to remain in stealth mode, but at least the rain impairs both vision and hearing, and with the shield in hand he checks the perimeter first and then inside.
There's not a soul in sight. The roof of the hut is old and rotten in places, which allows the rain to drip in slowly, and the floor could be cleaner, but there's a tiny fireplace where they can warm themselves, a bundle of sticks already gathered and relatively dry, and there's enough space for two to find rest. It's not exactly home, but it'll do.
Steve drops the bag and the shield, and heads back out to Bucky, a grin spread wide as he shouts over the storm. ] I give the all clear on this one, and it's not half bad.
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Hopefully inside they won't have to yell at each other to be heard.
Bucky falls in line easy, hands curled white around the pack straps, but he gives him a soft grin, nudges him a little. ] As long as we get t'stop, I don't care much what it looks like.
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[ He walks them around to the front in silence to save further shouting and pulls open the door, holding it as he nods for Bucky to go first. ] Home sweet home. Ladies first.
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He enters the hut with a faked saunter, but it's lacking in his usual characteristics, he's exhausted, but with it enough to understand that Steve's worried for him, needs reassurance. ] Smells just like home.
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He dumps the backpack down with the other. ] It'll do us until this storm clears up. [ He nods to the tiny makeshift fireplace. ] You think it's safe to light this thing? It won't do much to keep us warm, but it might dry out our gear.
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[ He stretches for a moment, back cracking. ] What's the orders, boss?
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He spares a glance up at Bucky. ] Sit your ass down and make yourself comfortable. Those're your only orders.
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[ There's something slightly strained in Bucky's voice, like his worry is amplified. Maybe seeing Steve fight isn't as easy as he makes out. ] What can I do?
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[ He hands him the flask, which is filled to the brim with whiskey - for a rainy day. ] Splash a little of that on there and then help yourself to it. I'll see to the rest. [ The hut is dark and it's difficult to make out some of the shapes around them without the flashes of lightning seeping in to help, and as he passes the flask over their hands touch, linger longer than might be appropriate, and his eyes meet Bucky's. ] You're freezing. Once we get this thing on the go it might be better to take off some of the clothes, hang them up to dry.
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Shrugging. ] Yeah, maybe. Y'think they'd make this stuff more withstandin', huh?
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