bakerstreet | Sensory deprivation meme

Sensory deprivation meme

the SENSORY DEPRIVATION meme:
You know those things you rely on to navigate you properly through life?
Senses? Yeah, well, kiss those goodbye.

(TRIGGER WARNING: This meme deals with the loss of senses:
blindness, inability to feel. If the concept of blindness, deafness
and/or the loss of any of your senses bothers you, please do NOT play this meme)

✖ Post with your character name/fandom/options for scenarios
(ie; het/slash fluff/smut) and your prompt.
✖ Use RNG to pick your numbers.
1-5 for regular senses, 6-10 for moral sense, 11-16 for cracky senses.

The Basic Five

1. Sense of Sight - Whether you woke up that way, had an accident, a brain tumor expanded or you had a bad reaction to something, you're now blind. Fully and completely. Watch out for that bu--*wince*

2. Sense of Smell - Did someone step in dog crap? It could be you, but you'd never know. You've lost your sense of smell. I guess there's no stopping by the roses for you, huh?

3. Sense of Hearing - "I'M NOT YELLING!!" Yes, yes you are. And no matter how loud you crank AC/DC, you're never hearing Highway to Hell again. Guess I shouldn't have gotten you the Stones compalition CD's, huh?

4. Sense of Taste - No, it doesn't taste like chicken. In fact, it doesn't taste like anything. Perfect time to get that friend that burns everything to cook for you - at least it'll make them happy and you can smile through the whole ordeal.

5. Sense of Touch - Where'd you get that bruise? Or that gaping knife wound? No clue. You have utterly lost the ability to feel anything, like your body is enveloped in fuzzy packing tape. Punch the wall all you want, you ain't gonna feel anything.

The Guiding Factors

6. Sense of Right and Wrong - Tripping people that get in your way? Taking candy from babies? Killing someone that hurt you and yours? All sound like pretty good ideas right about now. Your entire moral code has been thrown into the 'grey' area. There is no right or wrong, only what you want.

7. Sense of Decency - Things that just 'aren't done' are in play for you now. Evicting old ladies and orphans because they can't pay? Pff. Good. Lousy Mooching leeches. Hitting on that underage and naive little thing? Puh-leeze, they're an easy mark. Deflower, deport and debauch yourself to your heart's content.

8. Sense of Self - You don't even know who you are anymore. What are you doing with your life? What's it all mean? What the hell's it for? Why even bother to get up in the morning? Are you going to go try and 'find' yourself? Or just give up?

9. Sense of Preservation - Your life? Means about as much as a mouse fart. Why should you step out of the way of that speeding train? You were there first. Mouthing off to that huge, angry, overpumped steroid-faced goon sounds like a good idea too. He took your seat. And he smells.

10. Sense of Empathy - That ability that lets you put yourself in the shoes of others, to relate to them? Gone. No, you don't know what they're feeling, and quite frankly, you don't want to. You have your own things to deal with, and they're much more important. Why? Because they're yours.

The Quirky Ones

11. Sense of Humor - Wait, am I supposed to laugh now? You have to take your cue from those around you, laughing when they do, usually a little bit late and a little too long. Not even a fart joke will crack a smile.

12. Sense of Direction - You couldn't find your ass with both hands. Literally. You tried. And wound up getting thrown in the clink for inappropriate conduct with a nun. Don't drop the soa-- Too late.

13. Sense of Modesty - So what if you're using a belt as a skirt. It looks good, right? Bending over and showing off too much isn't an issue for you, neither is changing in the middle of the store if you just have to wear that cute little shirt now.

14. Sense of Fashion - Yes, you think a pink polka-dotted bikini top goes just smashingly with the neon green bellbottoms. Bubblewrap tops? Freakin' awesome. Put it on and flaunt it, and watch people's eyes bleed.

15. Sense of Timing - "What do you mean now's a bad time?" Yes, because you think trying to pick up a girl at her husband's funeral is a good thing. What? She's single. You're late to everything. A clock? Wassat? Strange, foreign words...

16. Mix and Match - You poor bastard, you've lost more than one sense. 2? 3? The whole lot? Who knows, that's up to you.

(reposted from memebells@lj, originally here)

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Natasha curls her other arm around Sharon's shoulders. She's not used to seeing the woman broken down and so stressed. But she's still human and it's sometimes easy to forget after spending enough time with Steve or Thor that human beings were, sometimes, fragile.

"The first time you brought James around and told us to trust him... I thought you were crazy, Sharon." The Winter Soldier, though, wasn't a leader, wasn't able to influence others. That had all been stripped from him.

"But he trusted you. And the Soldier doesn't trust. He obeys, compelled by fear and pain." Natasha sighs again and runs her fingers through Sharon's hair.

"I look at James and only see the Soldier. Steve looks at James and only sees Bucky. And I think we're both wrong. I think you're right. He's James and nobody else."

Her eyes drift close as Natasha strokes her hair.

"And now..." Now he was trusting her with pulling the plug if they couldn't cure him. And she'd do it. She'd have to do it. She understood a fraction of what it meant to him, not to be a prisoner anymore. If they couldn't help him, she had to let him go.

She takes a breath and forces herself to close her eyes and concentrate on Natasha's fingers until she feels calmer. "I thought I was crazy at first, too. I'm still not sure why he didn't kill me right off the bat." She grins shakily as she thinks about him before the Salazar mission, followed immediately by the thought of how helpless he now is. "Except for how he's an asshole."

"Who's watching out for him?"

"Bruce is at the hospital with him. Thor's there too. I think Tony's trying to just avoid the whole thing, but he got some pretty amazing doctors set up for James, so he's trying to pretend the whole thing isn't bothering him."

Natasha sits back and gently pulls Sharon sideways so her blonde head is resting in Natasha's lap. "Try and rest. Clint's a good pilot and if he drives us through turbulence he knows what's going to happen." She smiles and keeps running her fingers through Sharon's hair, trying to be soothing.

Sharon's eyes close slowly. She knows she needs sleep. She'd been tired enough that she'd been tempted to sleep on Natasha's shoulder. Her captivity with Salazar hadn't exactly been restful, and neither is the sleep she gets now. As much as it comforts her that the Avengers are protecting James, it doesn't make up for the fact that he's in a coma right now.

But having Natasha close helps, and the hum of the plane as it carries her home helps, too.

When next she wakes enough to try and talk, they're in US airspace. She forces herself to sit, rubbing her eyes. Despite Natasha's efforts, she feels even more tired than before.

"Peggy. I didn't ask about Peggy." This was the longest she'd gone without talking to Peggy in years, particularly now that Peggy had dementia. Sharon could never tell which conversation would be the last that Peggy could remember her.

"She's doing fine. I went to see her right before I left to come get you." Natasha immediately reaches out to steady Sharon. "When I left, she seemed to remember the conversation we had, though..." It was impossible to know if the memory of that conversation would stick around or not.

"How far out are we, Clint?"

He turns in his chair. "About twenty minutes. I radioed ahead, they know we're coming and Steve's already there as well."

She jolts up to pack, forsaking Natasha's hand only to fall back into her seat. She has nothing to pack and nothing to prepare. Nonetheless, her nerves are humming with energy.

"Have they had samples for long? Have they had any luck?"

"Salazar was kind enough to pack a few poisoned samples. But they're no closer than they were six weeks ago. They're trying their best, and the research Steve's bringing back should help a lot."

Natasha gets up and moves to the co-pilot's seat to help bring the quinjet in for a landing. There's already one landed, and it's a tight squeeze for the second.

But then they're landed and Natasha gets back up. Clint's hot on her heels and he offers his hand to Sharon. "C'mon, I'll take you to see him and Natasha's going to go check in with Steve."

She nods, already at the door. She grabs his hand. She isn't as comfortable holding hands with him as she is with James or Natasha, but she finds herself appreciating the feel of someone holding her hand. Damn it. This assignment has made her a sap.

"If I can't keep up, just keep pulling," she tells him.

She looks at the hospital door with apprehension. But James is there, and he needs her. She's out and running as soon as the plane door is open.

Clint follows Sharon while Natasha heads for another door.

Still, he does take the lead once they're in the hallways. He takes Sharon down into the ICU ward. It's clear which room is James's because Thor's standing guard outside, his huge arms folded over his chest.

Clint approaches. "Hey, man. Look who we found." He grins at Sharon.

Thor turns to Sharon and grins as well. "Lady Carter! Good to see you. Sargent Barnes is inside." He pushes open the door then steps back.

Bruce is sitting in the recliner in the corner, a book open on his lap. He looks up when the door opens then gets up. "Sharon..." But he doesn't move towards her.

James looks terrible. He's hooked up completely to wires, intubated with a machine forcing his lungs to work. He's pale and looks in pain even though he's in a coma. He also pretty obviously hasn't shaved since he got back to the states and his hair is overlong.

"Thanks, Thor." She barely looks at him, all her attention focused on the other side of the door. She darts inside, then comes to an abrupt stop when she sees him. She's seen him hurt before. She's seen him weak. She's seen him blind and helpless.

And now she realizes that she's never seen that until now.

She forces herself to take a step, though the first step is more her stumbling forward. She swallows and takes another, then another until she's near enough to touch him. Her hand shakes as she reaches out to touch his hand. She gasps and bites her lip as she reaches with her other hand to stroke his cheek. She bites her lip harder, willing herself not to cry.

She jumps when she realizes Bruce is there, and she sits on the edge of the bed and gives him a forced, helpless smile. "Bruce." Her throat closes up. She can't think of anything to say. What is there to say?

She swallows thickly. "Could you- could you get me stuff to shave him with and cut his hair? He- I was supposed to do it before, but-"

She clenches her jaw. She's going to cry. There's no way around it. Her first day back on American soil and who knew how long, and she was going to spend it crying, shaving her friend's face, and watching him move closer to death unless science she didn't understand could save him.

God, she hopes it can save him.

He nods, but doesn't head to the door right away. Instead he heads for Sharon, resting one hand on her shoulder gently. "Sharon... Poisoning can be a tricky thing. But..." He hesitates. His people skills aren't the greatest, but he needs to reassure her. "He's strong. The doctors say that the toxicity levels in his blood have been going down over time. Very slowly, but he is getting it out of himself. If we give him enough time, he could come out of it on his own."

But what sort of lasting damage there would be was impossible to know.

Then he steps back, ready to go talk to Clint and Thor about finding something to shave James's stubble away with.

She looks back at him quickly, but it's still too late for him to see the gratitude on her face. He's given her more hope than she's had reason to expect since Natasha rescued her. She doesn't call him back, though. She's not sure her voice will work, and she's not good with emotional situations like this one, as evidenced by what she says when she finally gets her voice working.

"Hey, asshole." She leans over and freezes inches away from his face when she realizes what she's doing. After a moment, though, she kisses his cheek. It's quick. Almost careless. But she'd done it.

She moves to lie against his side, cautiously moving his arm around her. She doesn't know if he's aware of it, but she doesn't find it as comforting for herself as she'd hoped. It's different when she knows he can't move his arm at all. Can't even wake up to see that she's all right.

She keeps talking nonetheless. "That was me, by the way. Not Steve. And I'm back. Natasha and Clint saved me. Steve got papers. We might be able to save you after all." She loosely tucked an arm around his waist. "And if not, I know what you'd want. I'll do it. I won't like it, but I will."

"You look terrible, by the way. You look like you mugged Bigfoot and stole most of his hair."

Her grip tightens around him. But she'll help him look like he did before. She'll take care of him, even if it means keeping her word.

It's Natasha who comes back in, carrying a razor and a bowl of water with a rag. She sits on the chair Bruce had vacated. "The nurses said there's a hair clipper you can borrow tomorrow. They have to bring it back in. But I went and bought a razor. Should be able to shave this stupid man's face between the two of us, maybe?" She smiles at Sharon then scoots the chair in closer. "We have to be careful not to mess with his tubes or anything, since they're what's keeping him breathing."

Sharon could honestly cry right then and there, but instead she cracks a grin and carefully extricates herself. She doesn't understand what she'd done to warrant a friend like Natasha, but she's never been so grateful in all her life for a friend like her.

She sits beside James and wipes her eyes. "Thanks. Not just for this. And not just for the rescue. But-" Sharon falters. "Thanks."

Quickly turning her attention back to James, she grimaces. "If we don't do this right, he's going to have a Hitler mustache..." She looks at Natasha, her eyes still wet, but now holding a wicked glint. "Maybe a handlebar?"

Natasha laughs. "Handlebar sounds good to me. He was dumb enough to get himself into this, he gets to deal with the silly facial hair." She's glad to get Sharon to smile and moves to sit on the edge of the bed. She picks up the rag and gets it wet, starting to dampen James's face so they can shave him.

She strokes his cheek with a thumb, thinking about how she'd be dead if he hadn't kicked her out of the way. She'd been so angry at him at first. And then turning around to see him on the ground... She'd thought that would be the worst of it.

She stops herself from asking about antidote again and instead withdraws her hand so Natasha can dampen James's face. Instead, she strokes his hand. It's almost like a compulsion for her, a way of assuring herself that he's still alive and assuring him that she's there. She's not even certain he can tell, and it makes her sick.

Natasha watches Sharon stroke her fingers over James's hand. "Sharon, I hate to have to ask, but... Are you and James... I know you're partners and you're close, but are you together?" She'd been around both Sharon and James (and both of them together) more than any other Avenger. It was impossible to deny that there was something there.

"No?" Sharon doesn't sound particularly certain, though. She's quiet for several seconds and finally shrugs. "I don't know. We're partners, and we're close, but- but when he first lost his vision, he liked putting an arm around me. I thought it was because- I don't know. But then before we left, he kissed me on top of my head? It could have been maintaining an act. I-"

She shakes her head and draws a breath before giving a helpless shrug. "We're close. If it isn't that kind of love, we're still- I just want to help him, Natasha." Her grip tightens on his hand. She doesn't want to lose him. She's not sure what will happen to her if she loses him.

Natasha nods. She reaches out to touch Sharon's hand gently. "We'll get him back Sharon. He's a fighter." She met Sharon's eyes, her expression softened, worried. "He survived seventy years in Hydra's hands, he's not going to let some goon with too much money on his hands kill him now." She turns to look at James. "Isn't that right, James?"

There was no response, of course. James continued to lay still and silent, aside from the machine forcing his lungs to swell and contract.

Natasha sighs at James then reaches up to stroke her hands through his greasy hair. "You'd better come back, you stupid man."

Sharon draws a shuddering breath and nods. "Too stupid to die. Can't figure out how it works."

At least the coma would keep him from feeling pain, right? Though he'd looked so pained when she first came in...

"I've never shaved anyone's face before. Let's do this."

Natasha smiles. She sits back a little and offers the razor to Sharon. "Here. At least if you cut him he won't be able to react, the big baby." She carefully adjusts the tubes one more time. She's careful not to move them, just move the straps out of the way a little.

Sharon takes the razor, then hesitates. She takes another breath to steel herself, then starts shaving, so careful that most of her SHIELD teachers would have been surprised. She shaves close to his face at first before using the wet cloth to wipe everything away, then cutting closer, all the way to the skin.

She's even more careful with his neck and jaw. Despite her care, she still spots a cut on his jaw and curses as she presses the towel to it. Again, she's tempted to cry, and she closes her eyes and takes several deep breaths before she goes back to shaving him, moving bit by bit across his face.

Natasha watches Sharon carefully and once she's done she takes the razor and stands. The water is dumped into a nearby sink. As she comes back she picks up the tablet that was left on the side table. She opens up a video then quickly pauses it. She passes it over to Sharon. "Shortly before he was unable to breathe, he recorded this for you. None of us have watched it, it's just for you." She offers the tablet then says, "I'll be back." She smiles and heads for the door.

Sharon's smoothing James's hair out of his face, as if no one else had ever thought to do that with him, when Natasha hands her the tablet. She stares at it, then Natasha, then stares back at the tablet as Natasha leaves.

She sits there for almost a full minute, unmoving.

Finally, she speaks, her voice rough. "This had better not be you saying goodbye."

Her finger presses play in a jerky movement before she can put it off for any longer. She grips the tablet with both hands and bites her lip.

There's a bit of a scrabbling noise and darkness at the beginning of the video, then the tablet is adjusted and James comes into focus. He's sitting up in the hospital bed, an oxygen line hooked on over his ears. He looks weak and shaky, and it's obviously a struggle breathe. "Hey... So I'm not planning on saying goodbye in this video, but I guess I might..."

He sighs and shifts a little. "I just got off the phone talking with you, and I guess I'm not sure how long it's going to be before you see this, but..." He's hesitant, a bit unsure. "I hope it's not too long. Natasha's coming to get you, which is good. I made her promise that if anything happened to me that you would be fine.

"I've never trusted anybody the way I trust you, Sharon. You've had every right to kill me, to be one of the people locking me up. I probably should have been locked up, after everything I did. I'm not apologizing for any of that, by the way. Just that you would have been right to do what you thought was necessary.

"I guess we need to talk after I wake up. THere's some things I've needed to tell you for a long time, but it was never the right time. Now I know that there might never be a right time. I just hope you'll be able to forgive me if I die and I never get to tell you those things."

James blinks tiredly. "The doctors don't know what's wrong with my eyes. They still apparently respond to light, there's no cloudiness, but it's like my brain forgot how to see. They're going to do some brain scans soon, see if it's neurological or what. I guess you'll learn the results of that. I won't get to."

He sits back a little and the tablet tilts so it's not quite pointed at his face anymore. "I should go. It's getting harder to breathe. I... I miss you, Sharon. I really hope you'll be there when I wake up."

Then the video ended.

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