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tinyboxxtink · 3 years

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"Reunion" A Sam Gardener/Paige Hardaway "Fix It" One Shot *Atypical*

Alright, I should have been working on my series but ya'll I finished ATypical last night and I was FUMING. Actually I still am fuming. So fuming I had to write a "fix it" fic for the ending of the Sam and Page story. It will NOT end at the Olive Garden. I refuse to believe that.

So I spent all day writing this. I don't care if anyone likes or agrees with it, this was for me. In my heart this is how they ended up. Okay? Okay.

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“My my my, Sammy you are lookin’ FLY!” Zahid stepped back and admired his work. Sam had reluctantly let him pick out his outfit for tonight. He felt very uncomfortable in the soft cotton t-shirt NOT the regular cotton t-shirt, distressed jeans NOT regular and non-holy, and an unbuttoned dark blue flannel, NOT a normal polo. But he wanted to look a certain way for tonight, something he thought she’d like. He needed tonight to go perfectly, and not because his atypical brain needed it to. His heart needed it to.

“Thank you Zahid, I’m very uncomfortable. That’s how I know I look good to other people,” Sam nodded.

“So true,” Zahid nodded. “Now are you sure you don’t want me to come with you tonight? Be your wing man?”

“No,” He shook his head as he studied himself in the full length mirror. “I need to do do this on my own, no birds necessary,”

“That’s my Sammy Sam,” Zahid beamed. “Always so literal,”

“Well, I’ll see you after the party ends. Probably before,”

“Unless things go well..” Zahid wiggled his eyebrows.

“If they go according to plan I will still come back home, you know this is the one of the only three places I can spend the night. The other two being my childhood home and Antarctica,”

“Yes I do know that,” Zahid nodded. “I am so proud of you for spending two months in that popsicle freezer, by the way,”

“I didn’t see one popsicle while I was in Antarctica, but I appreciate your praise Zahid,”

“Anytime, Sam. Permission to hug?”

“Permission granted. I’d normally say no in fear of wrinkling my clothes, but I’m pretty sure they’re already as wrinkled as they can be,” Sam raised his arms, gesturing to the crinkled flannel and jeans.

“Alright, well go and get her man!” Zahid wrapped Sam in a huge, tight hug.

“I hope so,” Sam nodded before walking out the door and down to his car that he could legally drive now.

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When he arrived at the school, he parked and went inside, He glanced down at the invitation he needed to enter the party:

“REUNITE WITH YOUR FELLOW OWLS! 5 YEAR REUNION FOR THE CLASS OF 2019!”

He couldn’t believe it had been five years since he had walked down these halls. It seemed to go by so fast; from going to Antarctica to graduating from Denton to getting a job at the aquarium as a vendor selling his drawings of Stumpy and the other marine life. He would even take long term commissions or draw guests right there on the spot. He didn’t like doing those so much though.

He approached the table apprehensively, hoping he wouldn’t be met with any of his tormentors from high school. But to his absolute relief and delight, there to greet him was the very person he had come to see. Her blonde hair was missing it’s usual blue streak, but other than that she looked exactly like he had remembered her: Beautiful.

“Sam!!” Her eyes lit up when she saw him walking up. She ran around the table and met him before he even reached it. She almost went for a huge hug, but she wasn’t sure if they were still in that stage where he trusted her enough to do so without permission.

But to her absolute shock, Sam opened his arms and welcomed her embrace unprompted. Tears lined her eyes as she hugged him as tightly as she could.

"Hello Paige," He simply stated as she had her arms around him. Suddenly she was catching something she’d also never thought would happen

“Sam, are you wearing cologne?” She asked him softly in his ear, not wanting to let him go just yet.

“Yes,” He nodded as he pulled back just a little to face her, but still his arms around her. He usually hated soft touch or holding of any kind, but with Paige everything was different.

“But you hate foreign smells, especially on your body,” Paige blinked in disbelief while also mentally noting that Sam was not letting her out of his grip.

“Yes, I do,” He nodded again. “But I read that this cologne produces pheromones for the female human,”

“Sam!” Paige blushed, biting her lip and looking at the floor. “Why would you need that?”

“For the ladies obviously, buddy,” Sam used his line for lying, dropping his arms around her. He couldn’t focus on more than one social skill at a time. “You look very nice tonight by the way, Paige,” He added the compliment to complete the lie.

“Oh,” Paige’s voice fell a little soft and disappointed, but Sam was unable to detect it.

“Are you done with your duties? I’d have some things I’d like to discuss with you,” Sam gestured to the table where two other women were taking “tickets’”.

“Absolutely!” Paige replied over excitedly. “I’ll just tell them I’m taking my break,”

“I don’t want to break anything, Paige. I’d just like to talk,” Sam said in a distressed tone. He didn’t want Paige to think he was going to attack her.

“Oh no no no Sam,” She laughed nervously. She missed how literal Sam was. “I meant a rest from work,”

“Oh, right,” Sam shook his head nervously, picking at his fingers. He should have known that, he knew what a break was. Paige just made his thoughts foggy.

“Shall we?” Paige pointed down the hall. Sam nodded and followed her into an empty classroom where they could talk uninterrupted. She pulled up a chair at a desk while Sam did the same, then she realized where they were.

“Oh my goodness,” She whispered.

“What? Did I do something wrong?”

“No!” She waved her hands dismissively. “Not at all Sam. It’s just--” She paused and looked around. “Do you know where we are?”

Same studied the room for a moment, when his eyes caught a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower.

“We’re in the French Classroom, where I brought you your penguin necklace so you'd be my girlfriend again, and then you kissed me for the first time,” He informed her matter of factly, but with a small smile, a thing he never did for anyone else.

“Yes,” She nodded with a small smile while her cheeks turned red.

“That was a very good day,” Sam nodded while recalling the memory. He would never admit it to anyone, but that was his first kiss.

“Yes, yes it was,” Paige nodded as well.

“That relates to what I’d like to discuss with you, Paige,”

“Oh?”

“Yes,” He nodded while looking at the floor. He was extremely nervous to do this, but he wanted to do it now before he lost his nerve.

“Well, I guess first of all I should ask-- do you have a boyfriend right now?”

“Sam!” She blushed even more; she forgot how blunt and honest Sam was, straight to the point.

“That’s not yes or no,” He stared at her.

“It’s...complicated,” She played with her hair nervously.

“How is it complicated? You either have a boyfriend or you don’t,” Sam was confused.

“Well the short answer is no, I don’t,”

“Okay then,” He started to continue his line of questioning, but Paige put her hands up.

“Wait wait,” She stopped him, trying not to laugh at his eagerness. “Don’t you want to know the long answer?”

“Not really, but I have a feeling you’re going to tell me,” Sam shrugged.

“Yes I am,” She agreed as she took a deep breath to explain her story. Sam was not looking forward to a long story, but he loved hearing Paige talk. Also he could block her out at any time if he got bored with her words.

“Well, while I was working in Georgia my managers realized what a great foreman I would make,”

“How can you be four men?” Sam asked quizzically.

“No no,” She giggled. “A FORE-MAN, Sam. It basically means I tell people what to do at the building sites,”

“Oh,” Sam shook his head in understanding. “Well you are good at bossing people around,”

“Thank you,” She half laughed. “So, I moved up and up and now I’m a manager myself,”

“I thought you hated being a manager," Sam's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "That's why you used your magic birds to quit Spud E"s,"

"I did hate it there," She chuckled as she remembered that day. "But just because it was at Spud E's. You can hate or love something depending on your happiness in doing it,"

"Oh," Sam just nodded, even though he didn't understand it.

"Anyway, so while I was working my way up the ladder, I met this guy Daniel," Paige's voice lowered as she said his name, she saw Sam's face turn to distress.

"Oh," Sam looked at the floor. "So Daniel is your complicated boyfriend,"

"No no no!" She wanted to take Sam's eyes to make him look up at her but she didn't want to make him more upset.

"No, we did date for a while. And then last week, after I got the invitation for this thing, Daniel took me to dinner," Paige paused, not wanting to push him further emotionally by saying the next thing.

"And he asked me to marry him," She said softly. To her surprise Sam's head popped back up with an even more distressed face.

"So you don't have a boyfriend you have a husband,"

"No!," She once again started going for his hands instinctively to comfort someone, but she knew it was different with Sam. Everything was different with Sam.

"Sam, will you let me get through the whole story before you ask questions, please?" She knew she had to flat out ask him to follow social cues.

"Yes," He nodded.

"Okay," she put her hands in her lap to finish her story.

"When he asked me to marry him, I sat there and I thought about it. For a long time. And I thought back to that afternoon when I got the invitation to come here. I was so excited to come,"

"You do love it here," Sam nodded. Paige gave him a look. "What? You said no questions, That was an observation."

"Right," she nodded her head with a laugh. "Well, then I realized I was more excited about coming back here than I was about the prospect of marrying him,"

"Oh." Sam simply replied while looking at the floor once again. Paige wondered if he understood what she was trying to tell him. Finally after several seconds, he raised his head and looked her in the eyes.

"Paige, now may I ask you a question?"

"Yes Sam," she nodded.

"Good," he nodded looking back at the floor. He wanted to pick the right words, he knew he had only one chance at this. He was so lost in his head he didn't realize how long the awkward pause was lasting.

"Um Sam," Paige's voice knocked him out of his thoughts.

"Right," He nodded, rubbing his sweating hands together.

"Paige," He took a deep breath. "Did you say no to marrying Daniel because the archaic institution of marriage disgusts you, or did you say no because you didn't want to spend the rest of your life with him?"

Paige's smile grew bigger at the question. He did understand what she was saying.

"I didn't want to spend the rest of my life with him." She smiled.

"Good." He nodded, making Paige softly giggle. He didn't hide his thoughts, that's for sure.

"Paige may I ask another question?"

"Yes, Sam,"

"Good." He nodded. This was it, the big question. If he could survive 54 days in Antarctica, he could survive this.

"Paige, would you say yes to marrying someone if you wanted to spend the rest of your life with that person"

"Yes Sam," she nodded with tears in her eyes. "If the right person asked me, I would definitely say yes"

"Paige," he didn't form the statement as a question this time, the one time she was hoping for a question.

"Yes, Sam?" She asked with a very anxious tone, tears threatening to fall down either way this went.

Once again he looked at the ground, furiously picking at a loose stand in the flannel sleeve. She debated whether to say something this time, she could tell he was thinking very hard about something and she didn't want to throw him off. Finally, he looked up once again with the lightest hint of wet pupils.

"....I'm the right person" He said with a very matter of fact tone. He didn't ask, he spoke it as if it was the truest fact in the whole world. He was never absolutely sure of anything, but this one exception.

Paige couldn't hold it any longer, happy tears dripped her face. To her surprise Sam was holding his hands out for her to take. The one other time this happened their love story was ending. She had said that day that maybe someday, they would pick up where they left off. And that day was here.

She gently placed her hands in Sam's as closed his fingers so they intertwined with hers. She looked at him with the same look of love she had when they parted.

"I think you're the right person too," She answered him with a tear filled smile.

To her delight his face lit up with overwhelming happiness, something very rare for him. Even better, he pulled her up out of her seat with his hands still holding hers and kissed her.

It was very softly at first like she was accustomed to given his apprehension with displays of affection, but to her continual shock that evening she suddenly felt his lips press harder against hers, the hardest they'd ever been in fact.

The surprises continued when his mouth ever so slightly, and his tongue traced the very littlest bit of the inside of her lip.

She went as slow as she could, following his lead. She absolutely did not want to ruin this for either of them, and she knew what a huge and probably terrifying event this was for him.

Sam slipped his tongue into Paige's mouth little bit by bit, as slow as Edison's movements. But as he felt the roof of her mouth against his tongue, he began to panic at the thought of the germs they were trading right now. His instincts wanted to abruptly push her away from him, but he couldn't do that to Paige.

Instead he removed his tongue and his mouth away from her, quickly but as gently as his neurosis would allow. To his relief, Paige was smiling from the encounter.

"Wow, Sam that was--" She tried to find the words. That kiss they had just shared was even more intimate than any time they made love.

"That was amazing,"

"I practiced that from a video I saw on YouTube," He smiled proudly. "And Zahid,"

"Zahid?!" Paige almost laughed at his last statement. "You practiced kissing on Zahid?"

"What?! No?" Sam made a disgusted face. "I'm not Casey, or Magic and Sphen,"

"Who are Magic and Sphen?" Paige asked curiously.

"Gay penguins," Sam informed her.

"Of course," she shook her head with a soft laugh. She had missed his affection for penguins.

"Anyway Zahid just showed me how, with his girlfriend Honey," Sam continued.

"You know we don't have to talk about how you learned it, Sam," She laughed awkwardly. "I'm just curious, did you--- did you practice that for girls in general, or me?"

"You, of course," Sam replied in an obvious tone.

"I've never wanted any other girl's germs in my mouth, but for you I wanted to make an exception. I read that physical affection is important in a relationship, and if we're going to be in one for the rest of our lives I thought I should learn more,"

"Oh that's so sweet!" Paige grinned.

"Yes, I know." Sam nodded proudly once more. "If we both brush our teeth profusely and use the strong mouthwash we can try it again,"

"Oh, well that should be--" Paige started to respond but Sam was busy opening the backpack he brought everywhere.

He soon pulled out two toothbrushes still in the package along with unopened bottles of mouthwash and toothpaste.

"Oh you meant right now," Paige laughed in amusement.

"Of course right now, we're going to be together for a long time, we should start practicing now," He shook his head in an obvious manner.

"Sound logic," She agreed.

"Wait, I almost forgot something Paige," He went back into his backpack. He was so focused on getting through the proposal he forgot the best part.

"Oh?" She tried looking where he was rummaging.

"Yes," he finally pulled out a sparkling rock from the backpack and stood up.

"This is a rock from Stumpy's tank. I work there now. Not in her tank, but the aquarium." He explained.

"Oh thats--"

"Paige, can you wait to ask questions until I finish my story?" He mimicked her question to him like a parrot.

"I--" Paige started to correct him by saying she was making a comment not asking a question, but she thought better of it. "Yes Sam,"

"Good," he shook his head in approval.

"Like I was saying, this is a rock from Stumpy's tank. I made sure it was one none of the penguins would miss, but was also very shiny and pretty." He explained as he presented the rock. She just nodded, encouraging him to go on.

"When a male penguin wants to mate with a female penguin, he searches and searches for the perfect pebble to present the female. I didn't have time to find the "perfect' one, and its not a pebble its a rock--," Sam noticed Paige's start to make the face she'd make when he was over informing her.

"Anyway," He dismissed the rest of his penguins fact buzzing in his head. He was already on the ground when he pulled out the toothbrushes and the rock, but he knew there was a specific way you had to be on the ground to ask this question.

He moved one leg so he was kneeling on one knee. He presented the rock more towards Paige, who was crying once again. Sam had to remind himself that people cried when they were happy as well as being sad, especially females. So he didn't have to worry if she was sad.

"Would you accept this rock?" He asked nervously.

He didn't know why he was nervous she had already said she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him, but this gesture meant even more to him, given that penguins were his favorite thing. Next to Paige.

"Of course I will Sam," she nodded happily as she took the rock from him.

"Oh also," He pulled a small diamond ring from his pants pocket and held it out to her.

"My mom said its better to give a girl this so they can wear it, but diamonds aren't a rock," He laughed to himself like it was the craziest thing in the world to give a girl a silly mineral opposed to a sturdy rock.

"Oh my god," Paige softly whispered as he slipped the ring on her finger.

He had told his mother he was going to ask her to marry him. He had planned this ahead of time, even though he had no idea what she would say. He loved her so much, and she truly loved him as much in return.

Finally done with everything he had planned to do, Sam got back up off his knees and gave Paige a small peck on the lips.

"I love you, Paige," He smiled.

He had practiced saying those words longer than he had practiced kissing. He started saying it in the mirror at first, then saying it to his mom, then his dad, then Casey.

He had always felt the emotion for them, he just never felt the need to announce it. But he knew it was important to hear for neurotypicals, especially Paige.

When he had said he was in love with her before the lock in, she had needed several minutes to process it. He hoped she wouldn't need minutes processing this, he wanted to practice kissing again.

To his relief she only took about 30 seconds to accept that she wasn't dreaming or hallucinating, he had actually said the words out loud to her for the very first time.

"I love you too, Sam," She kept crying from happiness as he gently kissed her once again.

And they did indeed spend the rest of their lives together, just like penguins.

#sam and paige #saige #sage #sam gardner #paige hardaway #atypical #fix it fic #i love them so much #jenna boyd #keir gilchrist

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freshjuicywriterstuff · 5 years

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Making Character Profiles - A Juicy Guide

Sometimes it’s best to keep a fact file about your characters so that you are always working on-model. This is a good idea if you’re going to be drawing your characters or having others draw them for you, but also as a writer. Nothing is more frustrating than realising you got something wrong about your own character in your prose or script piece! It’s especially important for those who work in visual mediums like film, comics or other sequential arts.

I’ve been making character fact files and profiles since I was old enough to write wish-fulfilling Ben 10 fan-fiction on scraps of lined paper. I’ve learned a lot over the years about how to put together the most cohesive files for long-term use, and I’m simply going to share a few tips and basics on how to improve and streamline your fact files! I hope this can be helpful for someone, in the very least - whether you’re creating a fan character purely as a creative exercise, or a major character for your latest project.

Under the cut is a fairly detailed explanation on a few vital things to keep in mind while recording information about your characters.

Firstly, tailor your profile to its purpose.

Are you making something visual or will it just be a text? If you’r going to be drawing or live-action casting your character it may be a good idea to include drawings. You’ll need to make sure you’ve got a thorough understanding of their visual look. This is important to include as reference - character profiles are most useful to yourself, so it makes sense to keep written and visual reference together just to streamline your work process.

Will your character be appearing a lot? You might not want to include a whole lot of information on a character who will only play a minor role. Of course, your main cast will need much more information recorded. It’s a good idea to keep the amount of recorded information in parallel with how much they will appear in your work. This can obviously be adjusted or changed according to the story but as a starting point it may help.

What is the nature of your fiction? If your fictional setting is particularly unique you will need to make sure all universe-related info is included. If you’re working with sci-fi or fantasy for example, there may be a particular faction they belong to or they may belong to a fictional race. Of course, if all your characters are human and from earth these are details that won’t be needed, but the nature of your fiction should play a hand in how much you include. If your story is centred around a war or conflict it may be necessary to note which side they’re on. If it’s closely focused on an emotional arc it might be important to include things like personality alignment and psychological hang-ups. Make sure you’re working to suit your genre or mood.

Question Your Tools

Depending on what kind of writer you are, you may construct your profiles very differently to someone else.

Whatever you find easiest and most efficient to use should be what you always use. Your chosen tools should serve you more than they serve anybody else. Use whatever type of word processor, notebook or writing utensils you prefer when it comes to recording information. Choose a font that you find comfortable to read - most people prefer rounded fonts like comic sans or typewriter fonts, as their eyes can process the characters a little bit faster. If writing by hand, be mindful of your handwriting so that you’re presenting the information in a way that reads very efficiently. For some, whether or not they use cursive can make a big difference based on whether or not they prefer to read cursive. You might even choose to write some things in all-caps or in different colours.

Even your writing utensil can make a difference - does your pen give bold, easy to read characters? Is your font the right size, digitally or on paper, to present the information effectively? Take some time to adjust your formatting so that your character profile will be easy on the eyes for you personally, and will serve as the kind of reference you are most comfortable with.

Ask yourself, is this necessary?

You’ll naturally start by writing out their name, age and other really simple information. Now it’s time to ask yourself what you actually need and what you don’t.

You wouldn’t want to over clutter your profile and make it difficult to refer to. It’s very important that your profile is easy to use as reference. Each time you’re including a statistic or feature ask yourself if it’s necessary. Do you need to include the character’s height to show clear differences when making visuals? Do you need to mention who their family is or will their family not appear in the story? Do you need to mention specifics about their physical appearance or will we not see their face?

Everything you include should be somehow necessary or functional. Whether this is just to aid the visual aspects or to enhance the story’s plot, ask yourself if it’s needed before you include it. Whether or not things are needed will vary based on what you’ll use the profile for, which is why this is the optimal step to take after defining purpose. You will need to create boundaries for yourself based on how much you think would be too much, and how much you actually need.

Precision and Concision.

Not only will you need to ask yourself what information to record, but also in how much detail.

Will you record measurements in metric or imperial? Will you need to include the character’s entire date of birth or just their age? Is there a more concise way to record the same information to make it easier to read and find?

It might be tempting to either rush through the profile and keep things relatively minimal, or to get very stuck in and fill in all fields in a lot of detail. However, both of these can limit the function of your profile. A very bare-bones profile might not contain enough and you may forget to include a detail that’s vital to the story. On the other hand, a profile that’s extremely detailed can become very lengthy and hard to navigate. Both of these problems could slow down your writing process as finding key traits of your character is harder.

It’s usually a good idea to include detail in some fields but not in others, and to write things in an easy to read note format. Including sub-headings in bold font, using lists and brackets, and even using coloured highlighting can help keep your character profile precise and to-the-point. Be mindful while constructing the profile, and trim down wordier phrases into things that are easy to quickly spot and utilise. Try to get as much information as you can into your profile in as few words as you are comfortable with using.

Serve your profile’s function efficiently by trying to store just the right amount of information and formatting it in whatever user-friendly way that you prefer.

Put it somewhere that serves you.

Where you put your character profiles is an equally important thing to think about, because it will depend on your work flow.

Some artists prefer to keep accounts on sites like DeviantArt and ToyHouse, where they store and share information on their characters easily. This can be extremely useful for the creator who frequently collaborates - if you commission artworks and writing about your characters often it may be a good idea to create a page like this. You could even build yourself a website with a free hosting service, create an online document via something like google documents or create a password-protected tumblr page. This will depend on how private you want the information to be. Some sites, like World Anvil for example, exist specifically to store information on your fictional universe. This is recommended for those who will be building anything expansive.

If you’re working on your project especially privately, you might never need to use the internet to store these things. Maybe creating a folder on your computer to store all the image and/or text files will serve you nicely enough. Maybe a physical notebook will work for you, if you prefer analogue work over digital. This is a good idea if you are nervous about information being lost or stolen.

Make sure you are thoughtful in where you store your character information - maintaining your particular work flow can be vital for creatives depending on how motivation works for their particular brain.

For more informative posts, inspiration and ideas to help you improve as a writer, follow this blog! I post as often as I can and also take requests for specific advice. I am funded by your donations, so any support is appreciated!

#writing advice #character profiles #learn to write #beginner writer #creative writing #young writer #juicespo #writespo #article #how to write #becoming a writer #writer resources

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cuthian · 6 years

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In Hell, We Stand By You Chapter Two

I'm excited to get this thing on the road! I am currently in my exam period too, so while there shouldn't be any delays in updating, since everything in this part has been written, if it is delayed, you will know why :D

Thank you for the lovely response so far!

I hope you'll enjoy this chapter and the rest of the story!

Next update on Friday!

Love, Annaelle

Chapter Two

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Much has been said on the subject of Steve Rogers and his journey of becoming Captain America since information on Project Rebirth was released in 1995, on the fiftieth anniversary of his noble sacrifice. A subject that is, however, very seldom discussed, is the relationship Steve Rogers shared with his sergeant and childhood best friend, James Buchanan Barnes.

…Academics and numerous sources confirm that the two men were closer than brothers, and that, when the two men were put into a fight together, whether on the streets of Brooklyn or in the war in Europe, they were unstoppable.

Sergeant Timothy “Dum Dum” Dugan, non-commissioned officer in the U.S. Army and part of Captain America’s Howling Commandos said, “Cap and Sarge were two peas in a pod. Didn’t even need to talk to know what they were gonna do.”

…Sergeant Barnes’ family has been notoriously close-lipped about the relationship between the two men, but it has not stopped speculation that there was far more than platonic love between the two iconic soldiers. Such rumors have found traction in the face of previously unseen footage of Captain America and the Howling Commandos, which shows the Captain and Sergeant exchanging looks and touches that are being interpreted as more than platonic by various sources.

…The question remains: did we know Steve Rogers at all? Was Captain America merely a façade behind which a queer man hid in a time where his sexuality was grounds to have him killed?

—A.J. Branwell, Captain America and Steve Rogers: the man, the myth, the legend, 2001

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6th avenue, Park Slope, Brooklyn, New York City, New York, United States of AmericaSteve

He still felt off-kilter, unbalanced in a way he couldn’t quite contribute to any one factor. He supposed waking up seventy years into the future after essentially committing suicide to save his country—and because he was so, so tired and he just wanted to go home—did that to a man, but it was an unsettling feeling, and Steve had never dealt with unsettling feelings very well.

The last time he’d felt this unsettled had been when he’d had to introduce Peggy to Bucky and had try to find a balance between the two loves of his life because they had been born in a world that prevented them from being with those they loved most of all.

Of course, it had turned out exceptionally well, but that was neither here nor there.

This situation was far from similar, even if his levels of anxiety were.

He couldn’t even stare out the window, because the world looked so radically different from the way he remembered it that it’d probably send him right back into another anxiety attack—and three was more than enough for a single day.

Rebecca—because calling her Agent Barnes had nearly made him vomit, and calling her ‘Becca’, like she had requested, seemed overly familiar and far too soon—had been kind and discrete, and Steve had been a little bit awed when she had essentially cussed out each and every agent who’d tried to stand in their way when they’d left S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ, and a little bit nauseous when he realized that all he could see when he looked at her, now that he knew her name was Barnes, was Bucky.

Everything about her, from the shade of her hair to the icy blue of her eyes to the way she leaned slightly to the right when she was talking to someone she didn’t like and wanted to get away from—

Everything reminded him of Bucky and it ached.

It ached in a way that left him breathless and wishing for asthma attacks, because at least when he’d had those, he’d had Bucky with him to hold his hand and help him through it.

Now, trapped in a futuristic car, travelling through the city he’d died to save but that looked and felt nothing like it anymore, all he seemingly had was Agent Rebecca Barnes. She certainly seemed friendly enough, but she resembled Bucky so much it actually pained him to look at her—

He glanced out the window again and winced, his stomach twisting painfully, because he’d loved this city, before and during the war, so much he’d been willing to die for it—even though he had barely even been alive at that point, because the biggest part of him had died with Bucky—and now, he was afraid that without Peggy, without the Commandos, without Bucky…

Nothing would be enough.

“Where are you taking me?”

The words were the first he’d spoken since Rebecca had ushered him into the car, and his voice felt raw and unused, even though he’d only been silent for half an hour at most.

She didn’t reply right away, and Steve watched, curious and wary, as she drew her lower lip between her teeth, chewing at it exactly like Bucky always had when he was nervous and stalling for time. Her fingers tightened around the steering wheel, and though Steve had only known the woman for a few hours at most, he could already tell she was a little unnerved by how direct he was.

She reminded him of Peggy in a way; a woman in a man’s world, tough as nails and awe-inspiring, but soft and kind when they were given the room to be.

He could tell she was unsure of what to tell him, but the way her entire demeanor softened when she glanced towards him spoke of a kind of wonder and trust he hadn’t been afforded in a long time.

“Brooklyn,” she finally admitted, eyes darting back towards the road as she spoke, but Steve didn’t miss the way she fidgeted with the leather clad steering wheel. “We’re going to Brooklyn.”

He frowned, but her breathing remained even and she didn’t fidget beyond that initial little twitch.

Not a lie, then.

“What’s in Brooklyn?” he demanded as a follow-up, mentally trying to list reasons why she’d be taking him to Brooklyn, turning his torso her way so he could keep her in his line of sight constantly. She had been nothing but kind and honest to him, and he had no reason to suspect she would break that tentative trust, but he had not made it as far as he had in life by relying on dumb luck and trusting the wrong people.

Though he was sure that if Bucky were here, he’d argue that the only reason Steve got as far as he did in life was by relying on dumb luck.

The thought made him smile fondly, though the brief moment of happiness slipped away the second he realized Rebecca had parked the car and was now watching him with an indecipherable expression. He remained quiet as he returned her steady gaze, keeping his expression void of emotion as he arched an eyebrow and waited for her reply.

“Home,” she finally sighed, shaking her head a little as she slumped back into her seat. “Brooklyn is home, Steve. I’m trying to… I don’t know, give you back as much of your home as I can.”

Before he could reply, she undid her seatbelt with a swift gesture and stepped out of the car. Steve remained in his seat for a few long, drawn-out heartbeats as he attempted to process what Rebecca could possibly have meant with that.

“What does that mean?” he cried out, struggling with the seatbelt—it took him embarrassingly long to remember how to unclick the admittedly simple safety system—as he stumbled out of the car, glaring a little when Rebecca laughed at him for stumbling over his own feet.

“I told you my name,” she said instead, pushing her hands into her jacket’s pockets as he stepped up beside her. “I didn’t tell you that I was named after my grandmother. She raised me when my parents…” she trailed off, and then shifted uncomfortably before waving her hand dismissively. “Whatever, not important. They wouldn’t take care of me anymore, so my grandmother took me in and raised me, and she always told me stories about you…” she trailed off again and eyed him speculatively before she gently continued, “…about you and uncle Bucky, too. How you two were the bravest two men she had ever known.”

His breath left his lungs in a whoosh, and he felt like she’d punched him square in the solar plexus, because it was one thing to know, intellectually, that an entire lifetime had passed—even though he was still struggling to wrap his head around it—but it was another to actually think about it, to realise he and Bucky and the Commandos had been stories to other people, that they’d been figures to look up to.

“Steve? Are you okay?”

He breathed in sharply, drawing his gaze back up to Rebecca as he swallowed thickly. “You were named after your grandmother,” he reiterated hoarsely, studying her features more closely than he had allowed himself to so far, searching for the similarities he knew he’d find—the long, straight slope of her nose, the unique color of her eyes that Steve had only ever seen on Bucky and his father, the way that she was only ten, maybe fifteen centimeters shorter than him, tall and beautiful like all the Barneses—to know.

“You’re Becky’s granddaughter,” he breathed, struggling desperately to wrap his head around little Becky Barnes being old enough to have a granddaughter. She’d been seventeen when he’d last seen her, barely on the cusp of becoming a woman, sweet and innocent and sincere, like she’d been when she was six and he and Bucky had been fifteen and she’d promised to marry him so he could be part of the family forever and he’d never have to leave them.

He had, admittedly, been too shocked when she revealed her name to really consider her relation to Bucky, to the family—he’d been too overwhelmed by everything to really think about it.

He glanced towards the house Rebecca had parked in front of, heart pounding as he realized where she’d taken him.

The closest thing to home she could give him.

“She’s in there?”

Rebecca nodded, her smile soft and sympathetic, and his fingers twitched towards his neck involuntarily, curling around the familiar warm metal of his dog tags reflexively.

It was a habit he’d developed shortly after Bucky had… fallen. They’d exchanged their dog tags right after they’d marched back into camp and Steve had been chewed out by both Peggy and Colonel Philips.

It had started raining and Steve had been cold, miserable and wet by the time he’d made it back to his tent, the euphoric high he’d been on after the men had cheered for him long dissipated, and he hadn’t expected to find Bucky in his tent. He’d never thought the other man would kiss him as soon as the tent flaps had flapped closed behind him, but he had not protested whatsoever.

If he focused hard enough, he was sure he could still feel the silky strands of Bucky’s hair between his fingers. Steve cherished the memory of that kiss, of the way Bucky had gasped against his lips when Steve had tugged on his short hair, of the way they’d had to stop, because while the tent had provided them with a modicum of privacy, it was far from ideal.

They couldn’t afford to be caught with their hands down each other’s pants.

He cherished the way Bucky had demanded to exchange their dog tags, demanded to be given a piece of Steve to carry with him always—as if he didn’t already own Steve’s heart.

Steve had laughed, called Bucky a sap, and had immediately complied.

He tugged urgently until the chain slipped from beneath the tight white shirt he’d been changed into, so he could press his fingers into the familiar curves and grooves that spelled out Bucky’s name, that reminded him that it had all been real and th—

He stopped dead, glancing down towards his dog tags in confusion and with growing horror.

Rogers, Steven G. 987654320 T42 O P

“No,” he breathed, rubbing his fingers over the grooves and indents in a desperate plea that he was seeing things, that he was just imagining his own name written on the tags where it should’ve been Bucky’s name and information. “No, no, this isn’t—where—” He turned towards Rebecca desperately, breath wheezing in his lungs and tears burning in his eyes. “These aren’t mine. Where are they?”

“I don’t—”

“No,” Steve exclaimed, ripping the fake tags from his neck and shaking them at her, desperate to make her understand, she needed to know¸ he needed the tags back, they were all he had— “These are not mine,” he insisted. “Mine were Bucky’s. These aren’t the ones I was wearing, I want—where are they?”

“I don’t know,” she replied honestly, clutching at the fake tags he’d shoved at her with a frankly bewildered expression. “I don’t know, but I’ll—” She glanced down at the tags and shook her head. “I’ll try to find out. If they were with you when we found you, I’ll find them for you. I promise.” She looked him straight in the eye as she offered the promise, and he could see the sincerity in her eyes.

He blinked rapidly against the frustrated, fearful tears that still burned in his eyes, taking a few deep, shuddering, steadying breaths before he nodded shakily and released the death grip he had on the tags.

“Thank you,” he offered unsteadily, taking a step back as he concentrated on getting his breathing back under control. His neck felt strangely naked without the solid, comforting feel of his tags on his skin, but the chain that now limply dangled from Becca’s fingers held no value to him. They weren’t his.

‘She’ll find them’, he assured himself silently. ‘She’ll get them back for me.’

They remained quiet for a moment before Rebecca gestured towards the modest brownstone in front of them. “You ready to go in?”

Steve looked up at the door and swallowed thickly as he saw the small plaque on the letterbox, tracing his eyes across the silver letters that spelled out ‘Barnes-Proctor family’. His heart was pounding and he felt a little lightheaded, but he wanted to see Becky, and he wanted to feel like he belonged somewhere—but he was so scared.

He hadn’t seen her since before he’d shipped out, and he hadn’t even been allowed to send her and the rest of the Barnes family letters to tell them he was doing okay. He didn’t even know if they’d ever learned what’d happened to him and Bucky.

“Yeah,” he breathed finally, steadying his trembling hands. “Yeah, let’s go.”

#writing #my writing #fanfiction #stucky #stucky fanfic #lisa writes #IHWSTBY #In Hell We Stand By You

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