July Catch All

[unclesam]

CHARACTERS: Sam Wilson & You (Open + Closed Starters)
LOCATION: All Aboard the Ximilia
DATE: Post Fox and the Hare
CONTENT: Catch-all prompts for post mission feelings
WARNINGS: Will be added to Top Levels

Closed/Open Prompts in the comments:

✪ [OPEN] Simulation Room
✪ [OPEN] Infirmary
✪ [OPEN] Lab/Tech Storage
✪ [OPEN] Training Room
✪ [CLOSED] Natasha

If you want to wildcard anything or want a closed starter, too, feel free to hit me up via PM, Discord: inkcharm#4573 or Plurk: inkcharm

Comments

Open: Simulation Room

[unclesam]

✪ You Put Up Your Defences When You Leave.

[ CWs: references to death, ptsd and grief. ]

[ For a while sometime after the mission, Sam just... disappears. For exactly three hours exactly. That's how long he can lock the sim room for, that's how long he can withdraw into a painful memory and keep everyone else out. Holding Karli's lifeless body, and letting his mind go painfully blank. Redwing chimes a notification at Sam when, three hours later, the locks automatically disengage, allowing anyone else to enter the simulation room. And Sam immediately switches away from this reconstruction. The simulation seamlessly changes before anyone enters, whether they're looking for Sam, or for any other reason whatsoever - they'll find themselves in a simulation currently running.

The setting is a T shaped pier jutting out into the water in Delacroix, Louisiana. The pier is home to a fishing business, faded signs declaring it 'Wilson Family Seafood'. The Louisiana air is hot and thick with humidity, but a gentle breeze blows in from the water and further inland through the cypress trees. The sun is setting, bathing the pier in rich golden hues. There's music, faded into the background - people seem to be having a cookout; rather a crawfish boil for those familiar with the region. The mood is good, laughter is in the air, overlapping the sound of children playing and the faint cacophony of cicadas in concert. The focus of the simulation is the boat anchored to the pier though, a small and old fishing boat that's recently gotten some loving work and a fresh coat of paint. The name declares it the Paul & Darlene. Sam's sitting perched on the bow of the boat, shoulders slumped and unaware of the company, though there's an unmistakable tension in his body that he can't quite seem to shake, and his gaze seems far away without actually going to the distant, wide horizon.

If someone joins him, though, he shifts, pops open the lid of a cooler. There's a selection of alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks. Local beer, mostly, and some soda, and whatever else one might desire. It's a quiet invitation for company to be kept. ]

---

[blackfire]

（ as much as he is willing to ruthlessly utilize genjutsu to disable his opponents, there is a distinct difference between what he does there and the nature of the simulation room. here, it is someone's direct imagining — he does not often venture in unless invited.

but sam had told him once he should stop by, and that is impetus enough, he supposes.

the sounds, the smells — they are nothing like his own world, but there is a nostalgic air that settles over everything, bringing it close to home regardless. even the pier is not entirely unlike the dock that brackets the nagano lake.

he does not take the ramp up the side of the boat, simply leaps and lands soundlessly, coming to sit beside sam without a word. he does not accept the offer of drinks — the mind may make it real, but he is in no hurry to use such illusions on his own perception. ）

Sam.

[unclesam]

You gotta tell me when your birthday is. I'll get you a bell.

[ Yeah, Sam flinched a little. But his tone is amused, the line a soft quip without annoyance. Ninjas, man. Literally, in this case. Expecting someone to show up and having them be silent as a shadow is a different thing entirely. Besides, Sam's thoughts keep getting pulled outwards like the tide, towards the sun that isn't dipping further down in the simulation. It's a weird effect, to trap the simulation in this specific moment of lighting, when your body knows the sun should dip further, the sky should darken, the mood change. Fleeting moments aren't meant to be caught and held quite like this.

Sam glances towards Itachi. Offers: ]

I was planning to take the boat out for a fishing trip, but then I came to the Ximilia instead.

[ He'd have tried to push Bucky in the water. Good times, honestly. ]

nakano, not nagano, wtf brain

[blackfire]

（ he snorts, which is almost a sound of amusement if sam cares to squint. ）

You've missed your chance, I'm afraid.

（ is he going to offer literally any more context than that? no.

he pulls one knee up, the other foot dangling off the prow of the ship. he seems perfectly at ease here — he has always been drawn to water. it is difficult to say if it was because of the uchiha's proximity to water, shisui's death or his partnership with two mist shinobi that cemented it, but it has always called to him.

he created a lake on viveca's world, pure water born of chakra. now, he wonders if it was the right choice.

after a moment, he leans forward and rests his chin on his forearm where it's draped across his raised knee. ）

Do you think you made the right choice?

（ coming here, becoming enmeshed in all they've done. ）

[unclesam]

Good to know.

[ No seriously. Goddamn good to know.

But Sam's not gonna get deeper into that for now. Missed your chance implies there might have been a birthday none in the not too distant past. And Sam gets not making a big deal - barely anyone here knows his birthday for a reason, too, and not just because he's in his 40s.

He does take note of how at ease Itachi is here. Thinks he might invite the guy out to the water in the future. This is a safe haven for Sam in more ways than one, peace of the kind that's only rivaled by flying. Might be something they could share. Maybe they could splice that upside down temple in with a boat on water... ]

When I picked up the shield you've seen me carry, I swore to myself I'd use it in defense of those who get left behind in the world. When I came here, I figured... the mission's worth it, long as I don't pretend like whatever I want to change and fix is more important than the people we meet along the way. Just 'cause they're not our worlds don't make them less real. Or less impacted. So... I don't know about 'right'. [ He thinks about his combat tours. And then he very deliberately does not think about them. ] What I do know is that we all can and should do better.

[ Sam doesn't look at Itachi. Just keeps gazing out over the water. Eventually, quietly: ]

I'd have rather failed our mission than the Fables.

[blackfire]

（ i defense those who get left behind. it's a sentiment he can appreciate, even if it isn't something he has had much occasion to put into practice in the way sam does — with decency and righteousness, a sense of what is just and fair. he understands well what it is like to make yourself a bulwark against the world for the sake of those most vulnerable to its cruelties, but he went about it in the wrong way, diametrically opposed to sam's approached. he was misguided, then.

he leans back on his hands, face tilted up to the sun. ）

There is a balance to be struck. I do not know that we found it.

（ it's neither agreement nor denial of sam's expression of desire. he cannot say that he would do the same — failing these missions is not something he considers to be a viable option, given what he is working towards.

the happy shriek of a child draws his attention, and for a moment his expression is something other than placid stoicism — there's a faint upwards quirk at one corner of his mouth as a young boy races down the length of the pier. part of the simulation, but it speaks to the love and care that went into building it. ）

'Better' is also subjective. What it looks like to us, what it looks like to the residents of the worlds we visit, these things will always differ.

Open: Infirmary

[unclesam]

✪ So Others May Live.

[ CWs: angst, references to past trauma, references to medical procedures, discussions of wounds, blood ]

[ Quite frankly, Sam feels like shit. He doesn't quite catch up on enough sleep after the mission, too many thoughts and feelings warring in his mind. But what can be counted on is that he'll show up for his shifts in the medbay.

So, granted - it's quite possible Sam's trying to distract himself. Quite possible. Not at all improbable, even. He's lucky in that his days as pararescue and his duties in the medbay here lend themselves well to that. The worst hurts were taken care of during their extended stay, of course, but anyone needing help, needing a checkup, or just needing a bandaid for a fresh paper cut. He's easy smiles that almost reach his eyes to every patient, and keeps his attention on the tasks at hand even when his thoughts want to wander. Forces himself to stick with medical equipment, bandages and disinfectant. No thoughts, head empty, helping hands. The Sam Wilson way. ]

---

[karaoqi]

[ It's after they've arrived back on the station that people are shuffled into groups — those that are well enough to head to the showers, take naps, find something to snack on; and those that require a little more help and actual aid to the infirmary, either by way of a couple orbers lending their strength, arms slung over shoulders, or a simple escort.

Shang-chi heads in on his own a little later, following a couple of others. He'd sustained some light injuries, maybe a few bonks on the head from blasters hitting his rings before he could properly dodge, and could use a surface-level check-up. He might be a little more durable than most but he isn't Wolverine or anything.

When he spots Sam, he lifts a hand to wave, partly to catch his attention. ]

Hey. I think I probably just need a couple bandages, it's not a big deal.

[unclesam]

[ Sam feels relief with every familiar face that shuffles in and can be sent out with nothing major going on. They got a few broken bones and other wounds of that level that need seeing to as well, but for the most part Sam's on light duty today, and that suits him. He's dead tired, physically as well as emotionally, after all that's transpired.

Shang-chi is genuinely a sight for sore eyes, light injuries aside. Sam likes the guy, what can he say. Good company. Good sparring partner too, even if Sam is hopelessly outmatched. Or maybe especially because of that - can't be Captain America if you let being nothing but a normal dude stand in the way of tussling with people well past your weight class. ]

You want me to dig for any band-aids with cartoons on them?

[ He pats the free exam bench he's standing next to though, indicating for Shang-chi to sit as Sam goes through a mental list of standard checks to run through with him, just to be safe. ]

You're the type to be honest when I ask what's hurtin', yeah?

Open: Lab and Tech Storage

[unclesam]

✪ White Crippled Wings.

I love you and all, but come on.

[ A sigh. The statement isn't heated, but rather exasperated. If someone follows the voice, they'll find Sam sitting at one of the work stations, staring incredulously at Redwing.

Using some of the tools at hand, Sam opens Redwing's chassis up, connects a small device with the drone's innards, running some diagnostics. On a nearby table, his wingpack is sitting, similarly gutted open with some routine maintenance running on it. His gear's taken a beating - Sam's used every part of himself during the fight to protect people, and while vibranium is sturdy, some of the electronics have gotten dinged up and then some. Fixing it all is a longer project. ]

Pout all you want, this is for your own good...

[ The drone, being an inanimate object, gives no indication of feeling inclined to answer. It doesn't stop Sam from fussing over Redwing as if he's a pet. ]

---

[malta]

Ah, thank you my friend, I love you too.

[ joe is looking for... well, honestly, he's forgotten by now because he was too busy just looking around the lab and had distracted himself from his intended task of retrieving something. the madrasahs when he was young focused on "rational sciences" like, astronomy, astrology, geography, alchemy, philosophy, mathematics, and occultism, any further scientific studies were done in the royal courts. yusuf has never been all that scientific minded anyway, he prefered maths and art. the lab is delightfully newfangled to him, even if he wasn't the oldest man on earth.

he looks up from peering at a case full of colourful chemicals, sparkling in the light, and offers the man he just confessed his love to a smile. he recognizes sam, though he doesn't think they've met yet, perhaps only pre-coffee nods in the kitchen when joe is no more cognisant than a sleepwalker. ]

You sound like my husband trying to give a stray cat a bath.

[unclesam]

[ It's a weird reality of life on the Ximilia - the fact that you are constantly surrounded by nearly 60 other crew, and you get close to some of them while only meeting others informally over amicable nods while getting coffee or passing each other in the hallways.

Nevertheless, who is Sam to rebuke a love confession? ]

Speaking of, you gonna bring him to our next date, love? High time we made introductions.

[ Never let it be sad that Sam Wilson passes up an opportunity for some casual flirtation and stupid jokes. ]

And I mean.. [ He gestures at the tech spread out on the work station in front of him. ] ... Redwing basically is a stray cat in need of a bath. Which is ironic for a bird.

[malta]

[ joe chuckles, warm and bright. ] We can have a dinner party.

[ he moves away from the chemical cabinet, leaving behind the array of rainbow liquids to step closer to sam's workspace. he can't really tell what redwing is, a bird, but a metal one? a stymphalian bird, maybe. ]

What kind of bird is Redwing?

[unclesam]

[ It's a vibe Sam appreciates, the casual messing around and borderline flirtation without any intent behind it. ]

Combat and recon drone, actually. But don't tell him he ain't a real bird. You'll hurt his non-existent feelings. And mine.

[ Mostly Sam's. The way he talks about Redwing and to Redwing, you'd be forgiven for thinking that's a sentient machine. ]

[malta]

Hm, hm, so he's a cardinal. [ red... wing... LOOK. this is a fair assumption, but joe peers curiously at the colours of the parts, trying to puzzle it out together in his mind to imagine what it really looks like when it's whole. ]

Or, hm, maybe a kestrel, a little falcon.

Open: Training Room

[unclesam]

✪ By My Side On The Frontline.

[ Daily, Sam can be found in the training room. Find him engaged in various training exercises, with and without his shield. Mostly he's practicing throws with his shield, a variety of acrobatic martial arts maneuvers, or even using his wingsuit in the limited space to practice recklessly fast, nimble maneuvers in the air. Sam puts in the work - tirelessly so. He's a man who knows he needs to put in twice as much effort, and so he does - and then some. And hey, if anyone's in need of a sparring partner, he's happy to provide. Sam's a talk, muscular man, but surprisingly nimble, and his fighting style is much more based in martial arts and acrobatics than brute force. Feel free to join him in combat or general fitness training, force him to take a break, or observe him eventually on his back, exhausted, dark skin glistening, arms spread out and legs comfortably bent, muttering an emphatic: ]

Fuck me.

[starer]

[It's rare that he goes anywhere near the training room. Not through any belief that he somehow doesn't need to use the room. He might be a supersoldier, but even he needs to practice to stay sharp. But there's too many bad memories associated with room like this that he'd sooner find himself a spot in the Sunlight room, or pull up a simulation instead.

But after their last mission, after all that time spent apart, the knowledge that Sam was heading that way today was enough of an excuse for him to break that trend once again. For him to detour by the kitchen for a couple of drinks, before slipping in to the training room in silence and taking up a space in the corner to watch.

It's only once Sam ends up sprawled out on the ground that Bucky finally makes his way over to him. Just in time to hear those two words. Something that earns Sam an amused look, and an equally as amused sounding-]

That a request?

[unclesam]

[ Sam opens one eye halfway to look up at Bucky, meet that amused gaze.

And he'd be lying if he said the quip didn't make his brain tip elsewhere. So sue him. They've spent a lot of time kissing and cuddling, and then they spent a lot of time apart. Sam's deeply affected by what happened to conclude their mission - but as usual, he keeps those pains tucked deep down. Just works harder, sleeps much less, and doesn't talk about it.

And genuinely, for a moment, all he wants is to play the tease straight, ask Bucky to just take him to bed finally.

Instead, he grins. ]

That an offer?

[ He reaches up a hand, still breathing hard, wiggles his fingers slightly - maybe for the drink, maybe for Bucky to pull him up, who knows. And as usual - he diffuses the situation, lets Bucky off the hook he put himself on, because he's genuinely curious: ]

You avoid this place usually. What gives?

[starer]

[He has a response there. An admission that's a step closer to anything he'd usually say. But after the last few months, he's learned not to take what they have for granted. That however long they have together here, he needs to make sure it doesn't go to waste.

But then Sam's reaching up for him, and Bucky, well-]

Maybe I was just bored. Felt like coming to watch the show.

[His expression turns fond as he finally takes Sam's hand in his, tugging him back up to his feet again. Bringing him close. Leaning in.

And then promptly shoving the freezing cold bottle of water up his shirt.]

[unclesam]

[ Sam's eyes immediately start closing when Bucky pulls him up - and fuck, the effortlessness is never gonna fail to make something flip low and delicious in Sam's guts, won't even lie. He leans in, too, looks up at Bucky from underneath long lashes.

And then he immediately lets fly a string of curses when Bucky shoves the ice cold bottle under his shirt, uselessly punching against Bucky's chest and pressing close in an effort to get away from the unexpected cold. ]

You asshole!

[ And he's going to squirm, trying to dislodge this undignified attack on his person. ]

Shoulda punted you into the bayou...

[ And if he's trying really fucking hard not to laugh, well, that's nobody's business. Bucky's the one being a damn child here, after all, not Sam. ]

Closed: Natasha

[unclesam]

✪ Walking on a Tightrope.

[ Three hours in the simulation room is the maximum that you can lock yourself in. After that, the locks disengage automatically. And Sam has no intention of getting caught in the simulation he was actually running.

Except... the alert from Redwing he gets suggests that it's not just anyone making their way to the now unlocked simulation room. It's Natasha.

And so, Sam doesn't change the simulation to a sunset over the Paul & Darlene - not yet at least. Instead he stays where he is, Karli's lifeless body in his arms.

For once, and without really knowing why, he lets himself be found and seen. ]

[deaddrop]

[Natasha doesn't spend all that much time in the simulation room, not on her own. She comes to check on Sam. For a while she lets him mope on his own, leaving him with his feelings, but at some point she doesn't want him to stew alone.

He's a friend.]

I heard there was a resemblance, but I didn't realize just how strong.

[She observes mildly, giving him space as she stands to the side.]

How long have you been like this?

[unclesam]

They could be twins. Bucky tell you?

[ In more ways than one, though Viveca seems softer around the edges where Karli hardened herself. Until she broke and was just a kid bleeding out in his arms. He smoothes a hand over her red curls, then lowers her down onto the ground to sit back, blinking. His neck cracks uncomfortably when he rolls his shoulders. ]

The lock disengages after three hours.

[ Only place to be alone, really. ]

[deaddrop]

[She doesn't point out that he might have been doing something else. His answer makes it clear enough that wasn't the case.]

Not in so many words. [She smiles very slightly, self-deprecating.] Heard, might be the wrong word. Maybe inferred would be more accurate, but it doesn't roll off the tongue as well.

[But Natasha saw how Bucky reacted to that android, and she's smart. She put together enough.]

What's her name?

[unclesam]

Karli.

[ Sam rubs his hands together, clenches his fingers a little. Sometimes, it still feels like his fingers are going numb, like he's about to fall to ash and dust all over again. ]

Remember the freedom fighters I told you about? She was their leader. 19. Angry, justifiably so. Very romantic and violent ideas about revolutions.

[ Sam pushes the goggles off his head, blinks hard. ]

I told her I agreed with her fight, just not the way she was fightin' it. Couldn't save her in the end. Some first outing as Cap.