6802/Departure Into Unknown Lands

Departure Into Unknown Lands
Date of Scene:	04 July 2021
Location:	Delacroix Island, Louisiana
Synopsis:	Sam and Bucky go on a roadtrip! Nothing terrible happens for once, but they still need Morrigan to show up for a Hail Mo(ry).
Cast of Characters:	Sam Wilson, James Barnes, Morrigan MacIntyre

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Sam Wilson has posed:
    It works out that the drive is going to happen mostly overnight anyway, which suits Sam just fine. The sun will probably be up by the time they corner-hop across Georgia into Alabama, but that's not a big issue. Timing it to avoid the traffic around DC is really what Sam cares about here, even if it's a shame to miss out on the mountain views in the Appalachians.

    Which, given that Sam's gonna be behind the wheel, isn't something he'd really be able to appreciate anyway.

    "Pack a bag," is what he tells Bucky, maybe an hour or so before he's planning on leaving. "Seriously. Do it. I am fully prepared to make it weird by packing one for you if you don't."

    Then he maybe is a little disingenuous with the junior agent in charge of the motor pool about why he needs to borrow a car for a few days. He can kind of convince himself this is actual SHIELD-related business--after all, Bucky basically brow-beat him into making sure Sarah knows the trouble she and the boys are tangentially involved in because of Sam--and in this instance it feels like a better time to ask for forgiveness than permission.

    Besides, Sam needs to go. Just, away from all of this.

    Similar reasons for why he's going to force Bucky to come along if he has to. Is it beneath him to bribe Lili into the car with treats? Maybe. Does Sam care about that right now? No. Besides, she has a whole backseat to herself with a blanket and a new chew toy that Sam must have picked up at some point. It's an alligator! Because Sam is a guy who likes thematic appropriateness.

    Whatever method he has to use to get Bucky into the car, well he uses it, Sam's clearly not above playing dirty. He climbs into the driver seat after and fiddles with his phone until there's music streaming through the speakers, some playlist he's found off of YouTube of 40s music in deference to Bucky's sensibilities, and then they're off.

    After 8PM and there's still traffic on the 495 around DC, because no one on the east coast knows how to drive. Sam keeps his opinions to himself, though, and settles in for the long haul. It's not his first time by a long shot, making this drive. His family had done it more than a few times during summers in the late eighties and nineties, and then once Sam was back stateside after his military service, it was always easier in his mind to get in a car and just go. For a long time Sam had issues planning too far into the future, which buying a plane ticket always felt like. And now, as an Avenger? Airports are just... no.

    Technically he could fly himself cross-country but that is murder on his back, only reserved for emergencies.

    Sam's initial estimate was off. They've done the whole ten-minutes-technically-in-Georgia thing and are actually well into Alabama by the time the sun peeks over the horizon. He's made a few necessary stops to fill up the tank and procure coffee, but Sam hasn't so much as made a peep about any discomfort he must feel after what is now a full eight hours of driving overnight. In fact he looks better than he did in the hangar of the Playground, packing up the trunk.

    Somehow it's like the distance closing between him and Delacroix is having a physical effect, even if he knows Sarah's going to be pissed as all hell at him when he gets there.

James Barnes has posed:
    He's been told time and time again, and not by just Sam, that Super Soldier does not mean invincible and indestructible. Bucky has been running on nothing but adrenaline, emotion, twinkies, greasy spoon food and energy drinks and sheer force of will since the night his insides were his outsides for a brief bit of time.

    Now he's feeling the not invincible, he's really feeling it. "Okay," he blearily agreed when Sam came in and demanded he pack a bag. It's almost a guarantee that he'll forget to pack something in the state he's in. He doesn't fight it, it's his own fault they're making this trip, but he's really slow getting moving.

    Lili, on the other hand, is more than happy to hop in the car. WEEEEEEE, road trip! And, well, her person is home for the first time in how long? Not that she minds all the attention she gets from the people she's left with at the Playground, but she missed Bucky. ...and he missed her.

    There is NO WAY Bucky lets Sam drive the entire time with no breaks, but the relief he can offer his friend from the driver's seat only amounts to an hour or two here and there, maybe three times? His absolute discomfort when he's driving is hard to miss. Dude's fucking guts HURT and the only comfortable position for him right now is stretching that bit of himself out. He fares much better when he's on the passenger side with the seat laid almost all the way back - where he dozes off and on. ...or sometimes just checks out for a bit mentally.

    It's been hard, these past few weeks, on everyone. But it's been plain in the little bit of time since they got back that 1943 really, really took a toll on Bucky both mentally and physically. It's the mental part that makes it better that he's here and not back at the Playground alone where he'd have nothing to do but think.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    There are times when Sam enjoys being right. Surrounded by super soldiers, hyper intelligent people, even the occasional actual literal god? Yeah, Sam gets overlooked. Which is fine, because he doesn't go out doing what he does for the glory of it, but still, it's satisfying when a plain ol' boring human like Sam Wilson ends up being proven right about something by fate or happenstance.

    Right now isn't one of those times.

    That's probably why he keeps the music low, the chatter to a bare minimum (okay, he does spend some time muttering under his breath about terrible drivers and how their cars must not have come installed with blinkers and once, notably, after a car cuts him off for the fifth time in the space of thirty minutes he goes "Oh, man, guess I should join the Fantastic Four because apparently I'm the fucking Invisible Woman") as he drives. If Lili's up for it he closes the center console so that she can lay her head atop it, and Sam could spend hours petting her, one hand on the wheel and the other rubbing behind her ears. And if there's any chance at all of Bucky getting some sleep, then Sam is just fine driving on through.

    Bucky gets away with driving an hour or so the first time only; Sam drops into a doze pretty quickly and that's why, because as soon as he wakes up and realizes how much discomfort Buck's in, Sam's ready to take over again. The next time Bucky only gets a thirty minute shift while Sam rests his eyes and waits for the caffeine from his terrible gas station how-many-has-it-been-so-far coffee to kick in.

    The sun is properly overhead by the time they hit Louisiana. Despite the city's proximity to their route, the New Orleans skyline is barely glimpsed as they pass it by, staying on this side of the Mississippi and taking a hard left at Chalmette. And then in the space of what seems like only a minute or two they've gone from the city to the bayou, with only a handful of buildings dotting the roadside,

    "Katrina hit this whole area really bad," Sam explains, in regards to all of the single-wides and other tiny buildings erected on stilts. "I came back on my last leave before I shipped out to help with the cleanup, but it was like the storm had wiped Delacroix off the map. There were piles of debris waiting to be picked up that were like... hills, man. Just manmade hills of garbage that used to be peoples' houses, their livelihoods. When I left, it felt like I hadn't done anything."

    It's not like that now, of course. The houses have been rebuilt, almost all of them elevated now, and on the other side of the road--yeah, there's basically one road into and out of Delacroix--are seafood markets, fishing supply stores, and a boat for just about every person living in the area at a rough estimate, in various stages of either launching from dock or already out on the water. It's the weekend of the Fourth, after all, and most of these folks probably started partying as soon as Friday afternoon hit.

    Sarah's house is a bit further, past the end of the paved road and into the thick of the bayou. Out of all the houses in Delacroix it's one of maybe five or six that aren't on stilts, and it looks battered but strong, like maybe it was able to withstand the storm. Sam puts the car into park under a tree and then sits there for a few moments, silent, looking up at the house. The car's still on, though, because it's summer in Louisiana and Sam's not going to sit there and stew with no A/C going. "Alright," he says, eventually. He pulls the keys from the ignition. "C'mon." And then he's out the door.

James Barnes has posed:
    Lili is more than happy to accept all the pets she can get, and even dozes with her assend on the back seat but her head resting on the console a few times.

    He fell into a deep, but fitful sleep two hours ago. It's not the usual fitfulness brought about by nightmares, he's clearly uncomfortable even in his sleep. Bucky doesn't rouse again until Sam starts talking about the storm and the damage it did and it takes him to about halfway through the explanation to really come away. He figures they must be close, so he pushes himself up in his seat a little and even THAT obviously has him hurting. He just doesn't have the mental stamina to hide the physical pain like he normally might.

    "Yeah, I guess it's time to do this," he says with a sideways glance at Sam to gauge his friend's mood. "...remember, Sam, she can't be safe if she doesn't know what might be coming."

    ...and then he's out too, waiting for Lili to bound into the front seat and out behind him before he closes the door.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    By the end of this trip, Lili is going to have replaced a good handful of people in Sam's friendship ranking list, that's for damn sure. He's happy to be the one to walk her on whatever tiny strip of grass exists near the gas stations they stop at on the way if Bucky's not up for it, especially if it means he can sneak her another treat or two.

    Well, now she has a whole entire yard to do her business in, boxed in by trees.

    Sam doesn't bother going for his bag in the trunk. Everything was fine up until they hit the end of the driveway and then he'd gone tense and uneasy, like he's just now realizing the firing line he's about to face. But, rip it off like a bandaid, that's what he's doing.

    He doesn't even get a foot up onto the first step before the screen door slams open and a twin chorus of "Uncle Sam!" precedes two young boys slamming into him. And even though Sam's too steady a guy to get knocked over like that, he gives an overdramatic backwards stumble and a loud "oof!"

    "Who are you two supposed to be?" he asks, barely suppressed laughter in his voice. "No way, AJ and Cass? Y'all are way too big!" Already his accent has started to slip, like just being here is enough to remind him of the summers spent fishing in Louisiana. He goes down on both knees right there in the grass to tug both boys into his arms for a tight hug that lasts long enough for the younger one to start squirming.

    "Uncle Sam, is that--?" He'd been looking over Sam's shoulder, at Bucky but, let's be real, mostly at Lili. Sam stands up, one hand going to each of his nephews' shoulders.

    "AJ, Cass, this is my friend Bucky."

    The eyes on the older boy go wide with understanding, but then his mouth splits into a wide grin. "Like Captain America's friend from the Howling Commandos?" he asks. Uh oh. Somebody might have a fan. AJ, the younger one, is obviously not a history buff like his big brother. He really just wants to pet the dog, which Sam warns away with a quick comment about Lili 'working' that, to their credit, both boys seem to immediately understand.

    Sam's smiling when he turns away, but then there's Sarah, stood at the top of the porch steps with her hands crossed over her chest. "Well, look who it is," is all she says, and there's a terse moment of silence before the Wilson siblings start towards each other at the same time, their arms going around each other.

    Judging by the way Sam tucks his face into his sister's shoulder, this, uh... might be a moment.

James Barnes has posed:
    Bucky stands back and off to the side for the initial greeting from the boys. In fact, it seems almost as if that's where he's going to stay through it all, but then there's attention being hurled in his direction. He smiles, a little half thing, but genuine at Cass. "Yeah, that's right, kid. Captain America's Very Best Friend from the Howling Commandos," he replies playing it up just a little bit for the boy, but not being untruthful at all really is he?

    "It's all right, you can pet her," he tells AJ with a nod toward Lili, who looks as if she's about to bust at the sight of tiny humans. Her tail's thumping so hard she looks like she might just take off into the air like a little canine helicopter. "She loves to play fetch if you can find a ball."

    Just this little bit of time in the heat has him sweating buckets. He steps over a little to lean against the car while Sarah and Sam have their moment. Someone has to hold the car up and in place, keep it from rolling away, right?

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Even though Bucky's just opened the proverbial floodgates for both boys, AJ and Cass are polite and respectful as they approach. They've both been around animals enough to know to offer their hands first for Lili to sniff, and then predictably it's AJ who is engrossed with the dog while Cass stands back and looks up at Bucky.

    He seems to be wrestling internally with what to ask, like he has a million questions, but eventually he settles on only one: "Does Captain America's shield have a rocket on it?" he asks. "Mrs. Vaughn, my science teacher, she says that's the only way he can throw it at a bunch of people like he does."

    Up on the porch steps, the moment is over. Sam and Sarah exchange a few words, mostly quiet greetings and a questioning of "Are you okay?" from Sarah that Sam's answering lie gets him a punch in the arm, which he genuinely winces at, rubbing the now-sore spot with one hand. "Boys, come on! We've been putting off breakfast long enough, time to eat!" She looks at Bucky for a long moment before adding on, "You too Mr. Barnes! Food'll be on the table in five minutes!"

    Bucky's far enough away that Sarah obviously thinks she isn't going to be overheard. "You sure he's okay to be here?" she asks.

    "He's fine, just a little beat up."

    "Look, I keep up with the first aid kit you stocked for us but if he keels over on my kitchen table, you *know* how far away the nearest hospital is," she says, but seems to take Sam at his word, as she's up the steps and back into the house a moment later.

James Barnes has posed:
    Lili is positively thrilled with the boys. Kids, they smell like cookies and dirt, there's nothing better. She might get a little overly excited and a little over exuberant with the licking.

     "No, the only rocket power it has is Cap's arm," Bucky replies as he pushes himself off the car. "But you wanna see something?" he asks Cass as he reaches into his back pocket for a wallet. He flips it open to reveal a picture of Steve and Bucky when they were kids, standing side by side, maybe about Cass' age actually. They have their arms tossed around each other's necks, big goofy grins.

    "This is me," he points to himself in the picture. "This is Cap." The little scrawny kid next to him. "Goin' from that, to Captain America is what happens if you eat all your vegetables when your mom tells you to." So. Deadpan.

    He looks up at Sarah after he puts the wallet away and offers a little wave in greeting. "Promise not to keel over on the table! I'll wait until after breakfast and keel over on the couch?" Damned super soldier hearing.

    He starts toward the front door and actually *trips* on something on the ground, a little bump, a piece of gravel, something. He rights himself before he falls, but the fact that he got tripped up at all is more than a little concerning. Bucky Barnes does not trip, at least not when he's healthy.

    

Sam Wilson has posed:
    If AJ minds getting smothered in dog slobber, his peals of laughter certainly say otherwise. Crouched down as he is, he's at the perfect height for Lili to do her worst. Love of animals is clearly a Wilson family trait.

    "I knew it!" Cass says. The grin of triumphant he flashes Bucky is a perfect copy in miniature of Sam's whenever it turns out he's right about something. Both boys make their fair share of oohs and ahhs as they look at the picture; AJ pokes fun at his brother's picky eating, referencing some sort of incident involving both broccoli and Lego that Bucky doesn't get any real context for but earns some annoyed huffing from Cass before they're called away by their mother.

    Sarah herself stumbles over a step as Bucky makes it obvious that she'd been overheard. The look she shoots Sam over her shoulder is one that communicates exactly how much trouble she expects her brother and his guest is going to be for her. They're really in for it.

    And Sam's still rubbing his arm from the first time she hit him. He should probably be scared, but maybe hanging out with super soldiers has broken his self-preservation instinct.

    Sam looks back, and narrows his eyes at Bucky's stumble. "Yeah, you need to sit your ass down, she's right," he says, and then he's ushering Bucky and Lili into the house.

    Through the mud room, past the living room couch and directly into the kitchen where Bucky will have to resist all four Wilsons if he doesn't want to be immediately sat down in one of the chairs at the table. "How do you like your eggs?" Sarah's asking, before she cracks a smile. "And your answer better be scrambled, because that's what you're getting."

James Barnes has posed:
    "It was just a rock or something. I'm fine," Bucky grouses. As if to prove his point, he snatches the smaller of the two boys up to settle him onto his left shoulder. He holds his right hand out to Cass, "C'mon, before we all get in trouble." He lowers his voice and stage whispers to the boys, "Remind me to tell you about the time that your Uncle Sam fell into that bees nest. Never seen a man run so fast, arms flailing about..."

    Once inside the house, he does settle at the table. "Scrambled's fine, ma'am." Did he just say... ma'am? Well, at the end of the day, Sarah is the woman of the house and a mother and he WAS raised in the 1930s.

    Lili, being the good dog that she is, takes up a spot across the room from the table, no begging with her, but she'll sure take anything offered.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    While Bucky sets himself up to be the fun uncle--Sam can already see it happening, and he's incredibly conflicted about it--Sam stands on the porch, arms crossed over his chest as he shakes his head.

    Does he believe Bucky's bullshit? Not a chance. Is he gonna call him out right here and now? ...yeah, no. Let him have some time to just be a regular guy.

    Once they're inside, Sam falls into lock-step with his sister. She stands at the oven and Sam moves around her, handing off plates and silverware and glasses for Cass and AJ to set the table with (after they're both made to go wash their hands, and in AJ's case, his face after Lili slobbered all over him).

    "So how was the drive?" Sarah's asking. "Let me guess, straight through the whole way like always, huh? You know these things called airplanes exist, right?"

    "Sarah, I was in the Air Force," Sam says.

    "Uh huh. And yet you still turn a 3 hour flight into 18 hours of driving."

James Barnes has posed:
    While the kids are away washing up, Bucky's facade drops a little. He turns his chair a little so he can lean forward and rest his elbows on his knees. His breathing is a little rough and forced, like it hurts if he breathes too deep. But he made a promise, he's not going to keel over at the table.

    He forces himself to sit back up again and face front at the table.

    "Look at you, Suzey Homemaker," he teases in Sam's direction. "Bet you got all the As in HomeEc..."

    He stands after a second or two and says, "I'll be right back, I just need... some air." Walk it off, soldier... that's what he intends to try and do, walk it the fuck off. But he's been walking it off for days now and it hasn't worked.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Sam's probably got enough to deal with, but that doesn't mean his phone has stopped work. Or well...At least it works for Morrigan. She had been back and forth about it, but this is what it came down to. She didn't just want to appear like a wraith and spook the shit out of someone. Probably a good idea since they aren't in New York!

Sam Wilson has posed:
    If Sam weren't currently manning the toaster, which is apparently tempermental enough that it requires constant monitoring, he might walk right over there and smack Bucky upside the head. As it is, though, he just points a butter knife at him threateningly.

    "Man, shut up, you know I did. Keep running your mouth though and you ain't getting anything."

    "I'm sorry," Sarah cuts in, from where she's flipping bacon. "Who here is *actually* doing the cooking right now?"

    The bickering is enough that Bucky manages to get away from the table, and then Sam's phone is ringing. Cass gets subbed in for toast-buttering as he steps out into the living room. "Sorry, work call." A pause as the boys start chattering about the Avengers. "Sorry, no, other-work call."

    He takes the few steps necessary to get him out of the kitchen and over to the couch, which he perches on the arm of as he hits accept on the call. "Hey, Mo. Everything good?" She'll definitely hear the clatter of various food-related activities in the kitchen and the chatter of voices in the background.

James Barnes has posed:
    He slips away from the table and back outside where he settles down on the step on the porch. Bucky is silently praying none of the Wilson family follows him outside, but isn't holding out much hope. He just... needs a second. He actually lays back, right there on the porch.

    There's a spider up there, in one corner of the awning. It's spinning a web and Bucky just watches that damned arachnid do its job until his vision stops swimming.

    "Awwww, fuck me," he mumbles to himself. Seriously. Dude is not used to this shit. He's used to getting hurt, healing up, and truckin' onward. He hasn't felt this bad since Ruby and Horace. But then, crazy as his life's been, it's never been THIS crazy... this never even having a moment to breathe after being hurt... crazy. It was what? A week? Two? Not very long ago that he took two bullets in the back before an eighty foot fall. He'd still be wearing that load if it wasn't for Morrigan.

    Fuck him.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan breathes a sigh of relief when Sam answers the phone, but she quickly catches onto the fact that there is a bunch of stuff going on in the background. "Everything is fine here for the moment, Sam. If it's a bad time I can call back." she states. But she's guessing he's going to tell her it's alright. "I just wanted to call and check on you and James. He...wasn't doing too good the last time we were all together. Plus I wasn't sure if you were injured either." she tells him, but the voice sounds worried. She might be fine, but she truly didn't want to see them suffer.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    "No, it's fine. I've got a few minutes," Sam says, proving Morrigan's assumption correct. There's a sudden burst of extra noise in the background, two voices bursting into sidesplitting laughter and then another one, more adult, saying something about "Uncle Sam" being on the phone, before it goes quiet again.

    He leans an elbow on his knee and frowns at the empty chair at the table, the one he can see through the open area past the entryway and into the kitchen.

    Something tells him Bucky isn't really walking it off.

    "I don't think much has changed. I stitched him up and gave him two units of blood, but things have been pretty... uh, rough, since then. I just dragged him halfway across the country so hopefully that'll give him a chance to rest up, but I haven't really been able to get a good gauge on how he's recovering beyond 'not well'."

    He rubs at his forehead with his thumb. When she asks after him, Sam blinks and has to sit there a moment, taking inventory of his own various aches and pains. "Nothing serious, I'm fine," he says. Honestly, he can't even remember if he got hurt on that op. They're all starting to blur together at this point.

James Barnes has posed:
    When no little Wilsons appear on the scene, Bucky just keeps on staring up at that little spider. Fascinating really, but not so much that it keeps him from dozing off right there on the damned porch. Really, he told himself he was just going to close his eyes for a second because they were burning. Just a second, that's all he needed and he'd get up and go back inside. ...that second was all it took for him to pass the fuck out.

    Really, a body, even a super soldier one, can only go through so much before it just nopes the hell out of the game. He's not unconscious, he'll wake up groggily and a little embarrassed if someone tries to rouse him, but for the moment, he's out cold. He kept his promise, he didn't keel over on the kitchen table!

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan listens to Sam and there's a look over the office she's sitting in. There's a silence as he tells her that Bucky is doing rough and then there is his own not taking a break. There's a soft chuckle, "Well, it sounds like you are in a good place to try to get some rest though. If you'll let yourself sit down for five seconds." she tells him. She doesn't know anything about Bucky collapsing though, so she goes on with the call.

"Do you need me to take a look at James? I know you're a handy paramedic as well, so I don't want you to feel like I'm stepping on your toes. I just want you two to know that I'm here if you need anything." she tells him quietly.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Sam narrows his eyes down at the wooden floor beneath his feet. "Hey, I'm sitting. I'm sitting right now!" Technically that is a thing he is doing, and will continue to do... probably for only the duration of this phone call, but still!

    "That might be a good idea, yeah. Think we're at the point where if I mother-hen him any more he's going to have a justifiable reason to knock me around. Which is gonna get awkward real quick since we're bunking together while SHIELD is..."

    He trails off there. The less said of all the crap going on with SHIELD right now, the better. Both for Sam's mental health and for, y'know, general security-related reasons.

    As Sam is also unaware that Bucky's laid out on the porch just a few dozen feet away, he doesn't move. "I just don't want you to feel like you need to patch us up every time we get hurt, which given our track record is too damn often. But, uh... I don't know. We could meet up after breakfast?" He sounds unsure, like he doesn't quite know how to ask exactly how far Morrigan's teleportation... spells?... work.

James Barnes has posed:
    He is, indeed, laid out. Bucky's even drooling a little bit now, mouth wide open. He's not snoring, no, he doesn't snore! But he might end up swallowing that spider if it falls, the wind catches it right and it ends up aimed just right.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
"Mhm, but for how long?" Morrigan teases him gently. "And I'll gladly tag in to tell him he needs to take it easy." she tells him with a chuckle. She listens to him though, a soft smile brightening her face for the moment, "I'm not going to heal up every scrape and bruise you guys get...but when you are shot or have your guts ripped out I will definitely step in and try to heal you mundanely or magically as long as you guys are fine with it." she states. "After breakfast is fine. It'll give me time to go home and shower...I've not been home in awhile." she muses.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    "Believe it or not he isn't actually a terrible roommate. Seriously, have you met his dog? She's great. I have pictures of her in the backseat on the drive down here, I'll send them to you later." Lili's presence holds a lot of weight in Sam's pros and cons list of putting up with Bucky Barnes on the regular, it seems. "So... do you need coordinates to get here, or...?"

    He stands up, because in the background Sarah's calling them to the table, and there are chairs scraping across the floor as his nephews sit themselves down. The phone is momentarily tucked against his shoulder as he says, "Lemme go get Buck," and then he's out onto the porch, screen door closing behind him. "Uh."

    There's nothing but silence from Sam's end of the line as he stands there on the welcome mat, looking down at Bucky's prone form.

James Barnes has posed:
    Does he need the sleep or the breakfast more? Decisions Sam! Bucky doesn't even move at the sound of the screen door opening and he's normally a LIGHT sleeper. A little bead of sweat rolls down the side of his temple from his hairline. But really? When he's asleep and his face is relaxed like that, not all pinched up with pain or grouchiness? He looks an awful lot like the 1943-Buck that came to Sam's rescue in the bar. Especially now that his hair's all short like that.

    ... he's a good lookin' dude, really. And Sam brought him here, sick and hurt and vulnerable... to his attractive, nurturing care-giver of a sister's.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
"He's probably wonderful when he's had a good nights sleep and not been shot or gutted." Morrigan muses at that. "I've met Lili once and well...that ended with a gun pointed at me. But hey, that's in the past." she shrugs. Then there's a warm laugh, "If I'm flying down I'll need an address. If you need Sorceror To Your Door...I just need to reach out and things. I don't want to spook anyone that's not used to me just appearing though." she points out.

The 'Uh' from him though makes her heart skip a beat as anxiety ramps up, "What's wrong, Sam?" she asks, keeping it out of her voice.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Naturally, Sam's first instinct is to crouch down and feel for a pulse. But he knows better than to do that, get all up in Bucky's business when the man is asleep, so instead he just stands there until he can see Bucky's chest rise and fall.

    Okay, breathing. That's good.

    "Just gimme a minute," Sam says, and it comes all out in a rush as he steps around Bucky, sets his phone down on the porch railing, and then that's when he kneels down. Over here, where he's given Bucky plenty of personal space. His voice raises, "Buck, man, you good? Did you pass out or something?"

    That address might have to wait a bit, Morrigan. Sorry.

James Barnes has posed:
    At first, Bucky doesn't answer. He doesn't even move. It's like there's a delay between Sam's words and them reaching far enough into Bucky's subconscious for him to make them out, process them and understand them.

    Finally, when it might seem he might not wake up, "Sam? Nnnnnnggggg... I thought I could walk it off." Boy was he wrong. He doesn't try to sit up, he just drapes his right arm over his face. "I'm sorry, man. I shoulda..." ...said something sooner, but he drops that in favor of, "I'm not okay."

    Talk about fucking *progress*. An apology AND an admission of notOKAY in the same breath?

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan's moving as Sam tells her that he needs a minute. She doesn't jump the gun and just teleport there, she's being accepting of them wanting to wait. And maybe it was good for her not to just do it. She was an adult. "I'm going home for a few, Reggie. If anything changes with the kids, just call." she tells her fellow doctor as she's sneaking out of the ward for them. She gives Sam the time he needs as she gets things together.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Well, that's something. Sam exhales long and slow, then twists to reach up for his phone. "So, Mo... how do you feel about scrambled eggs?" he's asking as he moves, up on his feet long enough to close the distance between him and Bucky before his knees hit the porch again with a pop Sam's doing his best to ignore, because he's not that old, damn.

    "Think I might be able to negotiate a spot at my sister's kitchen table if you'd like to join us for breakfast." There's another pause on Sam's end, though this time it's because he's made eye contact with his sister, standing on the opposite side of the screen door. Maybe Bucky heard her footsteps approaching, but for Sam it's a bit of a surprise. At any rate, they share a moment of silent sibling communication, before she's nodding and heading back inside.

    Bucky gets the warning of a hand on his shoulder before Sam's reaching further up to take his pulse at his carotid. "You're burning up," he says. "You've probably been running yourself so hard that even the IV antibiotics couldn't keep up. Damn." Part of Sam wants to bite Bucky's head off for this, but he reigns it in, because it'll do more harm than good. Even Sam can acknowledge how much it must have taken for Bucky to even admit to not being okay.

    Not to mention a straight-out apology!

James Barnes has posed:
    "Haven't had much of a chance to stop runnin'," Bucky points out. He really is burning up. He runs a little warm on the normal, super soldier metabolism and all that, so feverish Barnes is like a furnace. He still hasn't lowered his arm from his face, but he did hear those footsteps and their retreat.

    "She pissed?" Sarah that is. "Wait, who are you takin' to?" He lowers his arm finally. Nnnngggggg... yuck sun. "Did you say Mo?" For a second he thinks he's going to sit up. The second lasts just about... that, a second. He tries, he groans, he's back down. "If I move, I'm gonna puke all over your sister's porch." Seems he's all about coming clean with it today. "I really am sorry, Sam. I'm fuckin' up family time."

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan chuckles when he asks her how she feels about the scrambled eggs, "I do like scrambled eggs." she tells him. "I'll bring her something nice for the intrusion if it's an issue. I can take off when I'm done with stuff." she tells him. "I can be there in about...ten or fifteen minutes? If that doesn't work I'll just show up in scrubs." she chuckles.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Sam manages to crack a wry smile at that. "Yeah, you're telling me," he says as he sits back, which must mean he's not overly concerned with Bucky dying right there on his sister's porch. That would be real awkward if it happened.

    Still, when Bucky tries to sit up, Sam's immediately got a hand on his shoulder. He knows he can't really stop Bucky if he wants to move, but here's to hoping that some gentle encouragement keeps the man flat on his back. "Nah. Least you had the good sense to take it outside." He tucks the phone against his ear again. "Sounds good, Mo. We'll be here waiting." After that, he says his goodbyes and hangs up, just in time for Sarah to reappear.

    "I'm keeping some of the food warm in the oven," she tells Sam as she shoves a plate into her brother's hands.

    Sam has some good sense himself too, enough to say, "Thanks, Sarah. Sorry for the trouble." She waves him off with a roll of her eyes that is mostly fond, and then after glancing worriedly down at Bucky, she disappears back into the house. Two kids to feed, after all, and at least one of them's a picky enough eater that she has to make sure all the eggs don't go to Lili.

James Barnes has posed:
    "Thank you, ma'am. I'm really sorry about all this," Bucky says as Sarah starts with her retreat. "I'll make it up to you!" And he will damnit, once he's feeling better. That fence over there looks like it needs some attention from a big, strong shirtless super soldier. It's hot outside! He'll get right on that after breakfast.

    "Sam..." Bucky's voice is a little hesitant, soft. That's not usually a good thing at all. It might not be the best time, but if he doesn't bring it up now, he might just well forget again, like he did the whole trip here. "...uh, you're probably gonna get a letter tomorrow. Just tear it up, yeah?"

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan oddly enough doesn't just appear on the porch with them. She's had the good sense to not scare two children and Sam's sister with that stuff. There's the sound of a muscle car slowly making it's way down the drive way though around the fifteen minute mark. The Dodge Challenger is black with a set of royal purple racing stripes down the center. Because of course it's got purple on it! If Morrigan and Zemo ever meet they might bond over the color.

The car parks and Morrigan opens the door to get out in a little bit of a hurry. She's in her black hospital scrubs. But she's goes around to the trunk and takes out a duffel and a gift bag with ribbons on it. She's then hurrying up to the porch where she sees Sam and...is that Bucky on the ground?

She calms down a little as she steps up where they are, she holds the bag out to Sam, "This is for Sarah." she tells him with a smile. Then she looks down to Bucky, her violet gaze taking in his features, "James, you've been busy this week besides the gutting, haven't you?" she asks him.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    All Bucky gets is a "Yeah, sure, don't get blood on my porch!" from Sarah inside the house, but there's no heat in it. She's too much her brother's sister, too concerned for that.

    Meanwhile Sam's got a plate of bacon and eggs to eat, which he's going to do. Better than suffer Sarah's wrath over wasted food. He's got his fork halfway to his mouth when Bucky mentions a letter, and oh boy does that give Sam pause.

    "Why would you, uh... you didn't confess your undying love to me or something, did you?" Sam side-eyes Bucky *hard* even though he'd mostly been joking, before he continues eating, giving no word one way or another about what he's going to do with said letter when-slash-if it arrives. His plate's empty and set aside by the time Morrigan arrives (in style!) though Sam is still sitting there on the steps with Bucky.

    Admittedly the car is not how Sam expects her. He lets out a low whistle and then he's up on his feet to take the gift bag. "Thanks," he says, and it's for a hell of a lot more than the present Morrigan's brought for his sister.

James Barnes has posed:
    "Not really, but you're just gonna get pissed off if you read it," Bucky explains in regards to the letter.

    He had put his arm back over his face, but he lowers it when Morrigan is standing over him speaking at him, "Yeah, lil bit," Bucky admits. "Sorry, Mo..." he's just full of'm tonight.

    Actually, Sorry isn't an unfamiliar word to Bucky, it's the circumstances in which he uses it lately that's starting to change.

    Should he be sorry he's injured and sick and needs Mo's help? Probably not, it really has just been a whirlwind of a few days that was mostly out of his control. That's his MO with the word, using it when he's feeling bad about things he shouldn't. The one with Sam earlier? The one that was admitting fault that really was his to own because he *should* have told Sam how bad he was feeling sooner? That's new territory for him.

    "You didn't have to come all the way down here..." Sam'll catch it. Sam knows him well enough to catch it because Sam's heard him say the actual words before. There's an unspoken, 'I'm not sure I'm worth all this' at the end of his statement to Morrigan. "But thanks."

    ...and he will be eternally and forever grateful that Morrigan's means of healing does not require him to show her his 'ouchies' because, well, he's pretty certain Sam would throttle him into next week if he actually *saw* the red, weeping, nasty condition of those wounds on his stomach.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Mo's two favorite modes of transportation are her motorcycle and the challenger. Then it's teleporting. "It's no problem, Sam." she tells him with a soft smile. It really didn't bug her to come and help out. She then settles the duffle bag down on the ground and then kneels down by Bucky. She gives him a bit of a look, "I really thought you were going to die that night. I couldn't heal you fast enough." she admits quietly. "There's no need for apologies. It's not your fault." she tells him.

"But here I am." she smiles to them. "It's no problem. I'd very much rather have you alive and well than the alternative, James." she admits. Her hands are in her lap, because she's not going to touch him without his consent, "Your hair looks nice." she tells him with a warm smile. "You are running a fever, I should get to work." she adds quickly after that.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Sam's not going to dog Bucky about his self-worth issues right here on his sister's porch, but he looks like he's about to cut in--at least until Bucky drops a thank you to Morrigan, and that seems to mollify Sam, somewhat. It'll do for now, at least.

    He's just going to allow himself to be grateful. Progress is progress.

    "Pretty sure you managed to keep him from dying for real." Sam leans back against the porch railing, out of the way but nearby, clearly not willing to leave Bucky's side just yet. Same reason as why he stayed out here the entire time, despite the muted sounds of his family eating breakfast filtering through the open screen door. There's no doctor-patient relationship here, not really--despite his experience, Sam is absolutely not a medical professional of any kind, at least not now as a civilian--but he's still keeping a watchful eye. "When I stitched him up, it was pretty obvious he had some bowel perforations, maybe damage to his liver too. I gave him a course of IV antibiotics but," and then Sam just gestures, like a wave of his hand could encompass everything that Bucky (and partially Sam, who's been along for the ride) has put himself through since then.

James Barnes has posed:
    "I wasn't sure I was gonna make it either," Bucky admits quietly. Reflecting back on walking through that place holding his own insides, well... inside. Yeah, even he was pretty sure he was a goner.

    Her comment about his hair? It has Bucky looking away, a little to the right, over her shoulder... there's a little of that thousand yard stare, at least five hundred yards anyway.

     "I don't like it, it's..." What Buck? Too revealing that's what it is, he can't hide behind it anymore. "... not me anymore. Had to though..." He's pretty pale, so when his cheeks flush just a little over the fact that he's realized he's talking too much about things and stuff, it shows. Because he doesn't have that mop of hair hiding his face. Yeah, he's gotta grow that shit back again.

    "Yeah, go ahead," is all the more he says for now.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan gives a look to Sam, "I try my best." she tells him with a grin. Then she's settling in and listening to Sam's diagnosis on things, "There's a 'not full of shit anymore' joke I could pick up. But I won't." she states with a bit of a laugh. But she realizes that jokes are probably not the best right now.

She reaches out to carefully place her hand on Bucky's forearm. It's a gentle touch, because there's still a part of Morrigan that treats interactions with hurt Bucky like trying to get a wolfs paw out of a trap. It was something to do with care.

She closes her eyes before she lets the magic flow into him. "Why did you have to get it cut?" she asks him.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Hearing Bucky admit it out loud is enough to unnerve Sam, slightly. But it also means he was right, and he really wants to feel good about that. Mostly though he just wants to shake Bucky *really* hard.

    For obvious reasons, Sam decides not to indulge that urge.

    "It'll grow back," is all Sam says about the hair. Sure, for him it's a little weird being able to see Bucky's face all the time, and he gets the reason why Bucky doesn't like it now. Not the time to start dissecting that, though. His eyes glance over towards Bucky, over Morrigan's head, as she asks after it. Nope. Not answering that one. Sam looks away, squinting at something. "White-tailed kite," is what he decides on, pointing at a raptor perched on the top branch of a tree off in the distance.

James Barnes has posed:
    Explaining that he had to cut his hair so he could pretend to be his 1943-self on the night before he shipped off to war... was just a little more than Bucky could manage right now, that trauma was still too fresh, so he goes with, "Had to for a mission." ...and he's really clearly uncomfortable with the fact.

    "My eyes are blue, Sam's the one that's full of shit," Bucky grumbles in response to that whole bit of notJoke.

    "Not fast enough," it's barely a whisper. Man, that hair thing is REALLY getting to him, it really is. He's been hiding behind it for how many years now? Even as the Winter Soldier? Seventy years? Not having it leaves him feeling vulnerable in more ways than one.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan opens her eyes and looks to Bucky when he states that he had to for a mission, "I'm sorry." she tells him. Then there's a bit of a smile, "Well, your eyes are pale blue. But that's neither here nor there." she murmurs. Then there's a bit of a frown, "Maybe it'll grow back faster than you think." she tells him. Not cryptic at all. She wasn't going to mention that she could tell it was a way to hide.

Sam's pointing out a bird and there's a smile as she looks that way, "I'm sure there's a lot of birds out here to spot." she nods to that. Then she quiets as she goes back to healing Bucky. Because this guy is in bad shape...and she's going to need a nap after this.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    "Wow, I'm just standing over here minding my business, what the hell." Both of Sam's hands go up into the air in mock outrage. "In deference to your condition I'll spare you any cutting remarks and just tell you to go fuck yourself."

    From inside the house, Sarah calls out "SAMUEL THOMAS WILSON!" and for a second there Sam has his own version of a thousand-yard stare.

    He stands up straight, away from the railing. "I'm telling her your gift is from me," Sam says to Morrigan, and then he heads inside with the gift bag. To his credit, there's no further shouting, but Buck's definitely going to hear some apologizing from Sam... as well as plenty of blame being dumped on *his* head to deflect it off of Sam's.

    The gift helps, even if Sam's honest and doesn't claim it as being from him.

    It's a little while before he comes back out, and he stays at the door when he does, leaning back against it. He's trying not to interrupt the process any more than he already has, now. Though just judging by Sam's prior experience with Morrigan's healing, it kind of seems like a lot, this time around. "Man," he says, under his breath. "I should've been checking."

James Barnes has posed:
    So, Sam wanted Bucky healed up. Of course he did. But look there, all the color's coming rushing back to his skin, the dark circles are fading from beneath his eyes, pasty lips are pinking up. ...and there lies, on his SISTER'S porch, a vibrant, healthy looking Bucky. ...with no hair to hide that handsome face and those pretty pale blues behind.

    Morrigan's right though, he is in bad shape. The roadblock on the way to getting home from 1943 had only added insult to injury after him running around his hometown without much in the way of rest the entire time before the roadblock... had already added insult to injury. It was bad, all bad.

    But when Morrigan's done, Bucky manages a lopsided smile that shoots straight on up to those baby blues and positively makes them sparkle. "Really, Mo, thanks..." He seems like there's more he wants to say there, but he's still not good at this whole people-ing thing, so it just hangs awkward and unsaid before he pushes himself up to sit.

    "...dude, she pulled out all three names..." Aimed at Sam, of course and not without a whole lot of 'you got in trouble' in his tone.

Morrigan MacIntyre has posed:
Morrigan gives a wide eyed look to Sam, "What did /I/ do to get drug into this?" she chuckles. "And if you want to tell her that then go for it." she calls after him. "He'll be alright...until the next fight." she frowns.

The redhead looks down to Bucky when he flashes that lopsided smile and there's a blush that rushes to her pale cheeks, "You're welcome, James." she tells him. "Just try not to put yourself through a woodchipper if you try to fix anything this weekend." she muses softly.

That's before her eyes roll back and Morrigan trades spots with Bucky on the porch as her energy gives out and she falls over.

Poor Sarah's going to look like she's got drunks on the porch if anyone visits.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    "And all three of yours are public knowledge, James *Buchanan*. You think just because you're a guest she won't use it on you too?" Sam's eyebrows go up. "Congrats on being named for arguably the worst President of the United States, by the way."

    And Sam is fully prepared to go into exactly why that is the case, except his gut feeling about how much this healing session was taking out of Morrigan turns out to have been correct. He's there at her side as fast as he can be, first to check her pulse and then with a sigh to scoop her up into his arms. "C'mon, Mo," he murmurs. "Buck, the door?"

    This is going to be hard to explain to his sister.

James Barnes has posed:
    ...and Sam'll have to be explaining that one alone. Bucky'll open the door, for sure, but he does so with seriously, almost comically, wide eyes. He doesn't say a blessed word, not one. He just stares. He waits, hovering in the doorway only until Sam's got her inside and maybe settled on a couch. Sam's got this...

    She's in much better hands with Sam than she would be in his, that's for damned sure. Everything Bucky touches turns to shit. It sure the fuck does. Staying in 1943 is looking like it woulda been the right option after all.

    His horrified guilt is written ALL over his face and he... has no hair to hide behind. He takes one step back, then another, then he just turns and walks off the porch. Trots really. He stops at the end of the driveway though, that's something. But he looks a little like he may not be there for long.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Sam's not particularly worried. His concern is slightly elevated above the normal baseline he maintains for all of his friends right this moment, but after a few quiet words with Sarah--mostly assuring her that everything is fine, really, Morrigan just needs some rest--he takes her right up to the guest room. Which, given the baseball trophies on the shelves, the clock on the wall that quietly chimes a different bird call on the hour every hour, and the box containing the remnants of his service in the Air Force is probably just *Sam's* room here at the house.

    She gets tucked into the blankets, and the curtains are pulled in tight against the Louisiana sun, and Sarah comes up with a glass of water that she leaves on the nightstand next to the bed.

    Sure, Morrigan and Sarah have never met, but it's pretty obvious by the lack of necessary introductions that Sam talks about his life with Sarah plenty. She knew who Bucky was right away, after all.

    When he gets downstairs and Bucky's nowhere to be found, because Sam definitely missed his disappearing act during all of that, Sam tips his head back and sighs at the ceiling.

    A few moments later he's standing at the top of the porch steps. "Do you want ME to three-name you?" he's shouting, out across the yard at the figure down by the end of the driveway. "Because I will if I have to! Get in here and eat this breakfast Sarah made for you, you ungrateful ass!"

    It seems that bit of PG-language doesn't earn him any ire, at least.

James Barnes has posed:
    Three names or not, Bucky's not moving from the spot he's in right now. In fact, he's just frozen in place there at the end of the driveway. Sam can't see him from way up there on the porch, but it's probably not hard for the man to imagine that the look on his friend's face.

    Because Sam has seen it before. It's the same look he gave the door the night he nearly strangled Sam in their little room at the Playground - for real, they need to change the name of that place! That name can make ANYTHING done there sound all sorts of wrong.

    "I'll eat later!" he calls back, his voice actually shaking a little.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Sam is fully grumbling as he takes the steps down off the porch, because it feels a little bit like his life is just one crisis after the next. Just a series of chaotic encounters crafted by the world's cruelest DM.

    Yeah, Sam has played D&D. He was into *ornithology* as a kid, how could anyone doubt that he was a huge freakin' nerd?

    By the time he's down there at the end of the driveway, coming up on Buck, his hands are tucked into his pockets and he mostly doesn't look annoyed any more. "What's going on now?" he asks, and then gives Bucky a solid up-down lookover. "Is this about Mo? You know she's fine, just needs to sleep it off and get some good Creole cooking in her before she'll be back at it."

James Barnes has posed:
    "Just ... leave me alone a minute," is Bucky's answer. It's painfully obvious that it *is* Mo. "What if she's not?" HUH? HUH SAM? Because, in fact, Bucky really doesn't know. He's never seen the woman straight pass the fuck out after doing her weird purple heal-y NotWizard stuff!

    "You shouldn'ta told her to come here, Sam." There's no heat there, he's not *mad* at Sam, it's just the guilt talking. He's really all about shouldering all the guilt for everything... that's not his fault.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Sam turns and extends his hand back towards the house. "You're really gonna have me walk all this way and *then* tell me to leave you alone?" he asks. Yeah, Sam's not having it. He crosses his arms over his chest.

    "Well, she is, and I guess you're just gonna have to trust me on that. And I didn't tell her to do anything, because Morrigan is a grown adult who makes her own decisions, so you don't get to strip away her agency just so you can blame yourself!"

    At his side, his left hand spasms, and he digs his knuckles into his thigh to stop it. "Look," and he sounds a few degrees less pissed than he was a few seconds ago, but this is still not Sam-the-patient-counselor, this is Sam-who's-friends-with-the-incredibly-annoying-guy-with-the-staring-problem, Sam-whose-sister-is-gonna-be-pissed-if-those-eggs-go-to-waste. "You wanna feel bad about yourself? Clearly I can't stop you, doesn't matter what I say or do. But we just drove 18 hours across the country and we're not going to disrespect my sister by standing here hashing out our shit right now, okay. So let's walk back up to the house and eat some damn breakfast. That good with you?"

James Barnes has posed:
    Blip! Thousand yard stare over Sam's shoulder. Baby blues all distant and unfocused. Sometimes that stare is even worse than BuckyStare(tm).

    A few quick blinks and, "Yeah... it's good."

    He doesn't shoulder check Sam when he brushes past his friend, but it's close. Any emotion to anger, remember, it's his go to. Anger is *always* easier.

    As he's walking up the driveway, the fingers of his left hand take turns tapping against his thumb. Because he's using his left and not his right, each little tap can be heard, a light clink of metal against metal... an ever so faint mechanical whir, barely a whisper.

    Picture of health, looking fine in a pair of faded but perfectly fitted jeans, a white 'beater', a light blue button down that brings out the blue in his eyes and a pair of brown work boots that could fit right on in down at the docks... Bucky walks on toward the house, where Sam's sister waits.

    "Eggs are gettin' cold, Sam, keep up," he calls out without looking back.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Sam allows himself one moment, ONE MOMENT, to imagine jumping Bucky from behind. He's visualizing a full German suplex, slamming Bucky straight into the ground like a sack of potatoes. That mental image is going to sustain him for a long time even though he'd never do it, because Bucky's had enough brain damage and that would be too risky.

    Kidney punch. Hm. No.

    It keeps Sam from saying anything as he jogs up next to Bucky. Everything except, "Hey, I ate my eggs," which in the grand scheme of things is about the nicest thing Sam could say, in that moment.

    Everyone is still sat at the table, plates cleared but apparently enjoying some sort of standard Sunday morning tradition involving the newspaper, coffee (for Sarah), and orange juice (for the boys). "Oven," is all Sarah says to Sam as she glances over the edge of the paper, and Sam goes, grumbling, but she keeps looking, up at Bucky. "Look at you. Must be feeling better," she adds, and then smiles.

    Sam's half-bent down to get the plate out of the oven and he stills. Then he shoots a warning look over his shoulder at Bucky, and it clearly communicates one word: DON'T.

James Barnes has posed:
    "Yes ma'am." Well, at least if he keeps calling her ma'am it can't possibly be flirting right? "Right as rain." He flashes her a winning, toothy smile that makes those baby blues all sorts of sparkle. He really really does have an amazing smile, truly. "How about after I eat, I take a look at that bit of fence that's leaning out there? Least I can do with all the hospitality you're showing."

    He settles down at the table and the grin he shoots Sam, while Sarah's not looking, well it's positively *wicked*. ...then he winks.

    Really though, it's all in good fun. Bucky knows he's not going to be hooking up with Sam's sister! But that smile, that... attitude, those, well, BUCKY-isms are so reminiscent of that boy in the bar in 1943, it's almost difficult to be too terribly angry with him.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Sam doesn't set the plate down in front of Bucky with too much force, because that would just be disrespectful to Sarah and that isn't what he's doing here. But he does smack his elbow against Bucky's shoulder--the right one, he's smart about it--before he drops down into the empty seat opposite Bucky.

    And then he pours himself a glass of orange juice from the carafe on the table, because he had enough caffeine on the drive down, thanks, he's probably going to be jittery for the rest of the damn day.

    Which means Bucky's the only one eating, but no one at the table seems to care. Cass has a plate with half an apple's worth of slices left on it because of pre-stated picky eater syndrome, but his nose is in the comics section of the newspaper, and AJ has another section laid out in front of him, pencil in hand. "So what are you doing?" he asks, leaning over his nephew's shoulder.

    "Sudoku."

    "You know how to do sudoku." Sam's eyes narrow, and somehow that ropes him into a very thorough explanation of sudoku rules by AJ. Which Sam already knows, but he nods along to anyway.

    Cass isn't talking, but he is willing to pass over pages from the section he's reading once he's done with them.