bakerstreet | If there's no one beside you

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( shipping meme )

In a more normal time, this person would never be your type, if you even had one. But these days are nothing like "normal" in the least. The world, as it was, has ended, after all. The means don't matter: fire, ice, apocalyptic continent shift, zombies, despotic government that makes you wish for the former. All you're left with is the ashes of our former world and danger at your tail because you, lucky you, have survived. Having your pick or your type is a luxury you don't have; even if you did, it would be an extremely low priority.

As such, this situation, this relationship with this person hardly started out with any romantic intentions. It may have not even begin friendly. You came together out of necessity in order to survive, yet things got dicey as you learned to rely more and more on each other. When both of you feel as though you've lost everyone who'd ever been important, human contact is taken where you can get it. The more you rely on to watch your back, the more you rely on them for mere survival, the more you begin to rely on them for everything, in a way. While what you have between you started differently, it's grown and changed into something you can't describe. Still, you hold on for dear life, because even if you don't want to live for yourself anymore, you owe it to them to survive. This isn't love. It isn't healthy. It's codependency, probably, but it's a way to live.

What if they're not as much of a survivor as you, though? What if they're weak? What if you are?

...what if you lose them like you've lost everyone else?

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[ hey! sora shares a voice actor with her husbando so how do u feel about doin something? ]

[ It was Sam Bucky'd woken up to in Wakanda, as the facility was being evacuated. Six months gone, a lot changed - a pandemic, people turning into monsters, steve caught up inside a quarantine, so Sam had to come defrost him. Most communications down, cities in chaos. They're the dream team right now. Find the guy who released the virus, get it to banner or stark or someone somehow, make the world sane again. do the hero thing. still something he feels very out of place with.

something what's left of the global militaries still feel he's out of place with as well, they find, as they move from country to country, chasing the trail, and ending up with a few too many guns pointed in their face. well, mostly bucky's face. either way, they learn to start avoiding blockades. and wear hats. and sunglasses. which bucky no longer allows sam to be in charge of acquiring, given the last set he'd brought back from the abandoned gas station they picked through. they were hot pink, and glittery. the opposite of covert. it's like he wants them getting caught.

they didn't, then, and got through the refugee camp with only some mildly judgmental looks (made they were effective after all, if only in proving a solid distraction from the rest of his face). they're on their way to prague, traveling through austrian countryside, with sam at the wheel of a hummer that's been reinforced all to hell - metal grating over the windows, cattle guard on the front, turret soldered onto the roof. apparently bucky drives like a psychopath and his choice in music is offensive, so he's been exiled to turret duty, should they come upon a herd of the infecting blocking the road, or trying to scale their party bus. it's ended up with a lot of odd conversations, from the spectrum of pop culture back to old war protocols and how they've changed. It's odd, that they've gotten to know each other strangely well, locked into a speeding hunk of metal for hours on end.

hoever, sam's also been spartan about bathroom and sleep breaks, not only for bucky but himself as well, so when the hummer drifts towards the shoulder of the interstate, and a loud thrumming jerks Bucky awake from his nap (the path of ruts dug into the side of road to wake up sleepy drivers), it's clear what's going on here. ]

That's the third time in two hours - gimme the wheel or stop at the next building, you'll get us killed like this. [ said with metal arm reaching out to grab the wheel, correcting their path. ]

[ He feels like he woke up on the wrong side of the bed after too many shots of tequila and a weekend pass for the exact same thing an hour later. It's just been one thing after another, jumping through hoops and around and under, and after he'd dragged Barnes from the freezer, all hell had really broken loose. Sam vaguely remembers arguing with Steve the last hour they'd had together before he'd flown his way out for help, and he'd hated leaving like that, fingers at the comm to apologize before the line had been severed. That wasn't the first thing he told Barnes the second he relayed the information, the basic state of the world, and it's not something he feels comfortable talking about now. Instead, after the quick and fast rundown, they'd taken off to do something about it.

The blockades didn't help, how fast they got turned away and then decided not to risk it after the first few wanted Barnes' head. And the hats? Well... Sam had been sort of pissed that afternoon for some reason or another he can't remember now, probably a bad case of the End of Days Grumps, and he'd insisted the color went pretty damn good with that stupid star stamped right into his freaky metal bicep. He eventually, subtly made it up to him after they'd gotten through one of those camps, and now, the road seems pretty clear from here on out. Sam hasn't asked why Prague, but he figures that'll come up sooner or later in one of their talks. It's not as if they haven't had enough of those (and then some) in the last several weeks.

But he's tired, running on fumes, and he's far from supersoldier status to be doing this nonstop without any sort of vacation planned after, instinct guiding him the second he jerks the wheel back to straighten out the vehicle to slap that hand down. ]

I got it. I'm good. [ Which he's not, but their next designated stop isn't for another few hours. Sam hates being grounded like this; his wings would've come in handy had they not gotten busted all to hell shortly after leaving Wakanda. ] Last time I let you drive, you almost backed us into that lake. Don't think I'm falling for that again. [ If he really wants it that bad, he'll just have to climb into his lap and take it from him. ]

[ Why Prague? Because there's an old, underground HYDRA safe house there, or more so, an old assassin safe house there, and with Sam's wings busted, they could use the arsenal. It's also closer to where Steve was last heard from, in Berlin. They aren't getting past a UN quarantine with charms and wits alone. Especially considering Bucky's short on charms, and he'd argue Sam's short on the latter. Maybe. For the sake of being contrary he would, despite the fact Sam's proven a good ally to have at his back, and a solid combatant. Something he's taken perhaps more note of than he should, the Winter Soldier corners of his brain still observing and assessing, setting habits into categories, making mental note of weaknesses. Sometimes he has to just not watch Sam's side of the fight to make that cycle stop.

Driving is something easier. No real technique in that, despite whatever rant Sam wants to go on about Bucky's manner of it. It means more conversation, but it's something that hasn't been as awkward with Sam as it is with the doctors and nurses at Wakanda. And, sometimes, Steve. Somethings it's just very difficult to look into those eyes that are so damn invested and so hopefully and tell him yet another thing that'll crush him. Over the last several hours, in the anti-zombie Hummer, they've gone from Heavy Shit to Stupid Shit to Talking Shit fairly quickly. As is evidence with the return of the Lake Incident. ]

They wouldn't have followed us into the water either. [ he's just saying, it was a good plan. it's not like stealing another car would've been hard, and are you really going to cry about getting wet in the goddamn zombie apocalypse, sam? no, he's not, because he's too busy swerving around, and trying to keep his damn eyes open. another few hours his ass. ]

Like hell you're good. [ Metal hand reaching out to grasp at the wheel again, after allowing it to be slapped down at first. Nah, we're not doing this dying for pride crap. ] We're no good to Steve dead - pull over or I'll do it for you.