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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Clint nodded. "I know a couple of places. But let's not talk about it here." He leaned forward to touch James's hand. "Get some rest, man. Steve and Thor and I are here, we'll keep Sharon safe."

James nodded as well, then closed his eyes obligingly. He told Clint, voice thick with sleepiness, "Tell Nat about the Soldiers."

"I will." It would surprise absolutely nobody to learn that even with Natasha in deep cover, Clint would have some way to reach her.

They'd keep her safe, she echoed wryly in her mind. She wasn't the one she was worried about.

She dropped her gaze to James. But she was the one he was worried about.

She bit her lip and carefully moved down to lie beside him. "Let me know as soon as something happens," she told the others, her voice soft. "I don't care how small it is."

She settled down beside James and wrapped a protective arm around his chest. She was too worried to sleep, but SHIELD training had taught her how to overcome that. She made a note to tell Watson what had happened when she woke and let herself drift off.

Clint nodded.

As soon as Sharon laid down next to him, James relaxed. But as tired as he was, he couldn't sleep. All he could think about was the Soldiers. He had known about them, in a vague sort of sense, while still with Hydra, but as far as he had ever known, the attempts to create more assets like himself had all failed.

Obviously that wasn't the case anymore.

When Sharon awoke, the light on the windows indicated that the sun had slipped low into the sky. She yawned and settled her cheek against James' shoulder, holding that position until it occurred to her how ravenous she was.

She sat up and tucked the blankets around him more firmly, not wanting him to get cold now that she was no longer there. She watched him for a moment before turning her attention to the windows. From this vantage point, it didn't seem like the outside world was troubled in the slightest.

Her hand found his and covered it. She might be hungry, but this was one of the more peaceful moments they'd been able to have lately.

James had only managed to doze fitfully, his thoughts and worries keeping him awake. He listened to her move around, allowing her to tuck him in firmly without letting her know he was awake. He wanted to try to gauge how she was doing, without her trying to disguise anything.

But she wasn't talking, just moving around before returning to his side. Her hand curled around his, but it was starting to not be enough.

"I'm sick of being in this bed. And I really have to pee," he said abruptly, turning his face towards her.

She jumped when he spoke. The room had been so still and quiet - he had been so still and quiet - that the words were doubly startling.

She chuckled at his words. "I'm glad you mentioned that before I lie back down." She looked over her shoulder toward the doorway. "How do you want to do this? I can go get Steve... There's got to be a wheelchair around here somewhere, too. Want me to go look?"

She wasn't sure how much use she'd be if he felt he could only use a bedpan. She wasn't even sure he'd want her around for that. She didn't think she could support his full weight to carry him to the bathroom, either.

"I can't move..." James grimaced a little. "You're going to have to get Steve... Or Thor, or somebody." A catheter would probably be the best idea, but he still hurt from the one they had pulled to move him out of the hospital.

"I'll get Steve." Impulsively, she leaned over to give his cheek a quick kiss. She was gone before it occurred to her that she'd forgotten to warn him about the kiss beforehand. But he hadn't struck her. That was good. And she'd remember next time.

She barely stuck her head out the door before she spotted Steve, and she explained the situation before settling in to wait beside the door. She grinned wryly. There's been a time when the bodyguard gig would have come with a room across the hall.

It was almost fifteen minutes before Steve emerged from the room. "He's done. And back asleep again, I think." He leaned on the wall next to Sharon, sighed, then immediately winced and held his side. He was mostly healed, but not fully, and hauling James to the bathroom and back hadn't been easy - his legs hadn't been working much at all and he hadn't been able to support his weight.

"Thanks, Steve."

She grimaced as he winced, all too aware that he'd gotten injured protecting James. "Why don't you get ice and lie down?" she suggested gently. "I'll watch him for a while."

"I'm fine," he said, chin jutting forward stubbornly. Then he sighed and relaxed a little. "The tranquilizer seems to be worn off now, at least. We just have to get his limbs back to working and maybe soon his vision will come back." He turned to look at the door to James's room, arms folded defensively over his chest.

Sharon joined him in watching James as his chest gently rose and fell. He looked as peaceful as he could, under the circumstances.

"He was making progress pretty quickly last time. Maybe once he wakes up..." She slipped into silence. She couldn't guess how James would recover. They knew too little about the poison and how it might affect his physiology.

She almost told Steve about her and James previous plans, with her asking Watson to work alone and James retiring, but she remembered Clint's warning and kept her mouth shut. She didn't want whoever might overhear to use the information later.

Steve nodded. "Yeah. It's... weird, seeing him stuck in bed like that. Usually it was me in bed and him watching over me. Strange with it being the other way around."

He turned away after a moment, "I think I am going to go lay down. Do you need anything before I go?"

She shook her head. "I'm good." She moved toward him and gave him an awkward hug. "Thank you, Steve. For everything. I'll look after him for now, and soon he won't need anyone to watch over him."

She pulled away and gave him a nod before she went back into the room.

This time, she didn't climb into bed with him. She didn't want to fall asleep when he was this vulnerable. Instead, she pulled a chair next to his bed and covered his hand with hers.

[So uh.........]

James stirred a while later with a small groan. His hands curled at his sides, gripping Sharon's firmly. He let his head fall to the side she was sitting on and asked tiredly, "Are you awake?"

Her head rose as soon as she heard him groan, and she grimaced when he squeezed her hand. She moved in closer.

"I am, yeah." She reached out to smooth his cheek. He was going to need another shave soon. "How are you feeling?"

He blinked and raised his left hand to weakly rub at his eyes, trying to get the grit out of them. There was hardly any strength in his arm, but his right hand was still almost completely defunct. "Thirsty. And hungry. And I think both my feet are asleep."

She nodded and moved down the length of the bed. She gently started massaging his feet and calves to get the blood circulating again. "JARVIS? Could you tell someone we need some food and something to drink in here, please?" At the computer's affirmative, she addressed James. "No new attacks. Nothing's changed otherwise. You chose a good time to sleep, I guess. You haven't missed anything."

She grinned at him, though her cheerful expression didn't last. "Can't see any light yet?"

James shook his head. "No... Still dark. And I'm pretty sick of it, to be honest." He managed a smile for her, though. He could feel her hands on his feet rather distantly and it did feel good. He curled his toes weakly, glad that despite being tranquilized his body was still processing out the poison and he was starting to regain mobility in his legs at least.

Sharon watched his toes curl and let loose a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. "You'll get it back," she said more confidently than she felt.

"You're awake again, starting to move on your own, you've finagled yourself a massage. I'd say you're going to be fine, Barnes." She patted his leg and went back to rubbing his legs, harder than before. His current state of helplessness was a strain neither of them needed any longer than necessary.

James chuckled. "Maybe I should get poisoned more often, if it gets you to give me a leg massage," he said teasingly. He uncurled and curled his toes several more times then let out a small sigh. "It does feel good to move my feet again though."

"Maybe I'll call Steve in next time," she teased back. "How are your arms?"

She concentrated on his calves. Once he got some feeling back, maybe they could bend his legs a little.

James laughed then immediately coughed as his lungs weren't working well enough to tolerate it. He curled the fingers of his right hand then tried his elbow. He couldn't even get his elbow to 90 degrees, but it was more than nothing. "Better than my legs."

"Keep working at them." She watched him move his arm as she kept working at his legs. She only pauses at the knock at the door. It's the food she'd asked JARVIS to eat, and she didn't envy James. In her experience, green drinks should never be trusted except for St. Patrick's Day.

She put on her most cheerful face and turned back to him. "Looks like a healthy selection." She set the tray on the bedside table and found the control to lift the bed, placing it in his hand. She waited until he was settled before sitting on the edge of the bed and setting the tray in her lap. "What do you want to start with?"

James wrinkled his nose slightly. "Oh boy. Healthy food." He knew it was important for his recovering body, but still. He'd eaten nothing but bare nutrients for decades while with HYDRA, he wasn't a big fan of stuff without sugar or fat or anything.

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