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[wipedclean]

[The soldier is usually pretty stern, intimidating, all that jazz, but right now he's downright grumpy. And... snarly. Clearly he's not in a good mood.]

Why. The fuck. Are these fucking fireflies everywhere?

[Speaking of, here's one fluttering against his shoulder right now. His hand slams down on top of it, squashing it. He growls.]

They are getting in the way and they are making Steve forget he has to eat. Is there a way to stop them other than crushing them one by one?

Comments

[wormintheglass]

[Bianca, on the other hand, is in a fabulous mood.]

You could always just take food to him, dearheart.

[wipedclean]

I did. But he tried to feed the bugs first.

[He's definitely snarling.]

[wormintheglass]

And of course they didn't leave him a bite. So greedy.

[She's not openly giggling at him. But only just not.]

[wipedclean]

[She might not openly be laughing but he can tell she's amused and he doesn't like it.]

This isn't funny.

[wormintheglass]

Of course not. Food-stealing firelies of happiness are clearly a serious threat.

[She is so amused.]

[wipedclean]

He's not himself.

[A note of desperation creeps into his voice.]

All he does is sit and stare at the bugs and talk to them and he doesn't care about anything.

[wormintheglass]

They are rather potent. I suspect it will wear off, as time passes - or they'll be taken away. Somehow I have little faith in the permanence of joy here.

[Okay, that caught her on her soft side.]

Taking them away seems a little harsh. Perhaps you should just stay with him?

[wipedclean]

I have been.

[His concern has calmed him down some, or at least transferred his anger into a quieter worry.]

I don't... like seeing him like this. It's not right.

[wormintheglass]

I truly don't think it'll last long, dear heart. Are they not affecting you?

[wipedclean]

[He sighs, shrugs.]

Not really.

[The truth is, he's not really letting them. After seeing what happened to Steve when he caught so many, he's reluctant to accept even a glimmer of happiness from a single firefly.

More than that, he's a weapon. He doesn't deserve happiness, not without earning it. And he hasn't earned it.]

[wormintheglass]

Sweet boy. I'm truly sorry to hear that.

[Bianca is a little surprised to find that she is sorry. Perhaps the fireflies are making her mellow. Perhaps it's only that Bucky is reminding her strongly of Rey right now.]

Go be with him, dearheart. Take food. Sit beside him and let him share his joy with you.

Does he care for you as much as you for him?

[wipedclean]

[He's not sure he likes being called sweet boy and dearheart, but it's not the worst he could be called. So he brushes it off. He shifts a little, looks away.]

He says he does.

[wormintheglass]

And you don't believe him? Why is that, lovely boy? Is he in the habit of lying?

[wipedclean]

No.

[He frowns a little, shifts again.]

I'm... not... used to it.

[People don't care about him. They treat him as a weapon, they use him. Having Steve around is... overwhelming, sometimes.]

[wormintheglass]

There's only one cure for that, dearheart.

[And she doesn't mean pretend it's not true or shoot everyone.]

Go. Make some sandwiches first. Share your food with your friend. Let him share his happiness. There's not such an abundance of it in this universe, is there? Too little to waste any.

[wipedclean]

[He sighs a little. Maybe that really is all he can do. As long as Steve eats... is it really so bad?

He still doesn't really like it.

But he nods.]