Once upon a time, in a land not so far away...
You wake to the feeling of being watched. Of a set of unfamiliar eyes, of warm breath on the back of your neck. A jolt back to the land of the living, and it's gone. No matter how quick you are, how sneaky, the source of the disruption has long since disappeared, so you have no choice but to try and ignore it. To continue on with your day and try to set that moment of strangeness aside.
You eat, drink, speak with others. Perhaps you explore a little. Whatever it is you choose to do for the day, that feeling from the morning won't return. And by the time the sun sets and the moon glows brightly above, you've likely set those moments of strangeness aside. It's not like it's anything new, after all.
It's the same again for the next few days. No better, no worse. Something best ignored, right?
A speck of blood on the doorframe. That wasn't there before, was it?
A snap of twigs in the distance. A crunch of leaves.
Claw marks gouged deeply into the door.
Into the wall above your bed.
Scraps of red fabric, turned darker with blood. Pieces of fur. Of flesh.
Do you run and hide? Do you fight? Whatever you choose, it's definitely time to make sure your body parts aren't scattered next...
...what a horribly big mouth you have.
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Since first waking up on the island, characters have been stuck with that feeling of being watched. It isn't a constant. Isn't more than a few seconds at a time, dotted throughout the day. Investigation has never turned up much, and there's never been any sightings of the cause of it all.
Until now.
Throughout the first half of the week, characters will find themselves suffering from that feeling of being watched on a far more constant basis. Rather than it being a one-off, few seconds occurrence each day, that feeling will last for minutes at a time, and on multiple occasions.
However, it isn't until the fifth day that they'll start stumbling across physical signs of their monitoring. There are claw marks on doors. Spots of blood on the paths outside. A crack of twigs in the forests, or the imprint of bloodied paws in the snow.
Ten days in and those signs start finding their way indoors. Wet footprints, tinged with red. Claw marks in the walls, the floor. Torn sheets and the smell of wet...something. Whatever it is that's been watching you, its finally decided to come and say hello.
Two weeks in and characters will begin to have sightings of the creature, its fur dark and its eyes a glowing yellow. At times it looks like a wolf, prowling in the distance. At other times, it's walking on its hind legs, almost human were it not for the muzzle full of gleaming sharp teeth. Get too close, and it slips away like a shadow, gone between one blink and the next. It decides when to reach out to characters, not the other way round.
It's after characters finally get a good look at the creature that it starts leaving...gifts. Characters will start to find familiar items from their home worlds amidst the mess. The remains of a childhood pet, perhaps. Photographs of loved ones, faces torn almost beyond recognition. It's only once it delivers its final gift that the creature retreats to the trees again: a blood-splattered item of clothing that clearly belongs to the person the character misses the most at the time, alive or dead.
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but where's the fun in that?
"Time travel is also a thing." An addition that's said a little more flippantly than it probably should be. But given how strange this entire situation is, it's not really as unbelievable as it probably should be. He's already had his own freak out, thankfully in private. So the details are a lot more digestible to him than they once were. It probably also helps that he's watched a movie or two (thousand) before.
"We haven't found anyone from this place yet. Everyone seems to have been brought here like us." Though, that's not entirely correct.
"About a week ago, the mirror lit up really brightly in the night, and then there was a girl screaming on it. We never found out who that was, and she never responded to anyone. But..." There's a helpless expression on his face as he looks down at the pouch in his hand, fingers tightening briefly around it. "She sounded scared. I don't know if she's--" Alive. "Here anymore. But we couldn't find her."
it's all fun and games until someone loses an arm... oh wait...
It's fantastical to be sure, but it's also the kind of fiction that Bucky poured over in his youth, when he could get his hands on novels secondhand or borrowed from the library. Time travel and alien worlds and flying cars and futuristic machines; once it had all made his imagination light up. Certainly he's seen the evolution of some of technology himself but have they progressed even further than that perhaps?
How much further? And at what cost?
He's not long to dwell on it though, still keeping pace with Peter's walking and digesting every word he says. And even daring to offer a few of his own. "So it's similar everywhere? I had attributed it to the snow of where I arrived versus the milder temperatures further south." What he doesn't say is that the lack of neighbors is more comfortable for him, at least right now. Though that does bring up a concern around whether or not there really is something dangerous about. Strength in numbers isn't just an idea with no merit.
"No physical signs of natives, and only one point of contact through the, uh, mirror?" He looks to Peter for confirmation of getting the details right. Bucky isn't expecting the emotion so clearly painted across his face though. He's pretty sure that it reminds him of someone, but that's not an avenue of thought he's going to chase right now, not in present company. Still, it surprises him to hear his next words. "And how many of you looking have experience finding people who don't want to be found?"
how dare
"For me, Thanos' ship was just leaving New York. For Mr. Star-Lord, it was already in space." Though given that, as far as he's aware, Bucky hadn't been there for that, he has no idea if that even means a thing to the other man or not.
"But, um. Yeah. We're pretty much alone here. Or at least it looks that way. I've only met a couple of people though, but I've seen others around. We kind of had to give up on looking for that girl for now cause we have nothing to go on, and we're running out of supplies." Which leads him to an even bigger problem--
"Between whatever it is that's out there, and the lack of food, we're all kind..." Screwed. "I think everyone's just focusing on trying to survive right now." Because while he may be aware that hunting is a thing he could help do, the idea of actually killing something makes him sick. Which is why he hadn't wasted any time in volunteering to scavenge supplies while the others went hunting. The less rabbits and deer he has he hunt, the better.
it's fine this is all fine
Is it unbelievable? Absolutely. But so are a great many other things in Bucky's life. the fact that they're here in the flesh certainly cements that this is probably not some strange hoax; Bucky has run into a few things that he'd consider just plainweird.
"Whose ship?" Which probably answers Peter's unasked question, though it certainly doesn't clear anything up for Bucky. But, right, space travel is apparently a thing, got it. Kind of.
Yeah, moving on. And moving on to something not only more pertinent, but something at which Bucky excels: survival. He lets the conversation about searching out the mysterious girl go as secondary, something to be considered later. That's what it sounds like Peter and whoever he's with is also doing. "Lack of food?" There's a note of surprise in his voice for sure; the forests seem pretty well populated with wild life. "Or lack of hunters?"
They're two entirely different problems, after all. Hunting is easy — hunting animals would actually be a relief compared to some of Bucky's hunting — but he doesn't say that. Can't really; it reveals too much and while Peter certainly seems to know him, he doesn't know exactly how much the teen knows.
lies it's never fine
"There's a lot of animals out there for people who know how to hunt. But I've been looking around the buildings to try and find whatever's not been picked up yet." Because it's far less bloody and life...endy. It probably also helps that he can squeeze his way through the remains of the most rundown of buildings without having to disturb them. So far, he's managed to discover a lot of unclaimed supplies that way.
"So, I know we don't really know each other that well yet. I mean, I know all about you because of history class, I guess. But that's different, and I'd kind of like to get to know you instead of what's been written about you." A shrug. Sure, there's also the stories that showed up in the news over the past couple of years too that should technically sully his opinions of Bucky beyond repair, but he can't help that he still considers the other man a hero. Even if the two of them ended up fighting each other the first and only time they ever met.
"But that's completely up to you. I'm not gonna go all 'crazy fanboy stalker' on you or anything if you say no. It's just that...I'm pretty sure I can trust you. So if you want any of the stuff I've found, you're welcome to come share it. I just hope you really like beans. Or rice." Which is said with a grin as he turns back to face the way they're going, leading them off towards the lake near the center of the island instead.
sure it is, with just a few words: longing, rusted, seventeen...
He's not just saying it to be falsely reassuring either; it would be stupid to forgo the possibility of supplies to be found in the buildings just for the sake of not wanting to scavenge. Survival is about surviving, after all.
Peter falls back into step at his side easily, as if this is a thing they do. Or maybe this is just how Peter is with everyone: easily trusting, wanting to be trusted. He'd make a horrible HYDRA agent, Bucky can think it in the privacy of his mind. His expression is too open, his demeanor too innocent. Bucky doesn't think that anyone is that good an actor, and certainly there had never been much need for acting around him. No, he'd just be triggered and that would be that: simple, easy, efficient.
HYDRA did so like efficiency.
"Not quite sure what history books would have bothered to say about me." Not much he thinks, and certainly nothing much beyond his connection to Captain America. He'd seen that in the museum, and it suits him well enough. He's not sure he fits the image of the man in a smartly pressed dress uniform, or even the slightly rougher figure at Captain America's side. He'd read what he could but it'd felt more like reading about a stranger than anything familiar, and had done little enough to jog anything loose in his head. "So I'm not sure there's much to bother knowing." And there's the matter of the Soldier, of course. "Or much you'd want to know." But—
But.
But he's in a strange place with more than one unexplained phenomenon. But he's alone and his own supplies aren't going to hold out forever; already he's been rationing himself and while he'll survive it, it's not sustainable in the long term for his metabolism. But here's a teen offering trust as easily as anything and it reminds him, sharply and unexpectedly, of something else.
No, not something. Someone.
His frown isn't directed at Peter but it's there nonetheless, the downward curve of his lips as he shifts his own stride to maintain his place at Peter's side as they walk. The silence stretches a little too long before Bucky realizes that he needs to at least say something, give some sort of answer to his companion. "I don't know if trusting me is something you should decide on now." He certainly can't change Peter's mind if it's made up, but he does feel it's only right to say as much. "But I don't want to hurt you."
A beat. "And there are worse rations than beans and rice."
THAT IS THE OPPOSITE OF FINE
"I know enough though. I know a hero when I see one. Even before...everything happened, you were a hero. You fought to protect people. That means I can trust you more than anyone else here." Because as far as Peter's concerned, it's as simple as that. Bucky fought in the war. He risked his life to protect his country and the other soldiers. Without people like Bucky, there's no telling what state their world would be in right now.
"...okay, that kind of came off a little more 'crazy fanboy stalker' than I'd like. But it doesn't mean I'm wrong." And no amount of convincing will make him change his mind on that. The same can be said for people like Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson. They may have been on opposing sides, but that doesn't change the fact they still put their lives on the line even before they became the people they are now.
Any somberness disappears an instant later though, and Peter practically bounces on his feet as he finally spots the lake peeking out from between the trees. Unable to help himself, he tugs briefly at Bucky's sleeve, before he bounding off to get closer. To try and spot the thing that lives in its depths.
SHHHH WE CAN FIX THIS
Then again, just because Peter knows doesn't automatically mean that others know as well.
It's still uncomfortable to think that, knowing about the Soldier, Peter would want to trust him. Would focus on the good, on the Bucky Barnes that he's pretty sure died under HYDRA's needles and scalpels and in the chair. "And you'd still want to trust me?" It doesn't sound at all smart to him and it makes him wonder at the reason behind it.
"Maybe just a little." He eyes Peter out of the corner of his eye, trying not to look too much like he's studying the teen. He is of course, and doesn't know how much Peter knows it. The assurance, the sense of complete confidence in him? Bucky wants to write it off as simple naiveté but at the same time he doesn't want to let go of that tiny thread of something that he's not admitting is hope. "It doesn't mean you're right, either."
But that, while not exactly cruel, is a little bit colder than Peter deserves. He's been nothing but enthusiastic and helpful, to someone who hardly deserves it. "The truth is probably somewhere in the middle."
Even so, Bucky can't help the way he stiffens when Peter catches hold of his sleeve and tugs. Casual contact used to be a thing for him (he thinks) but even so he's not expecting so familiar a gesture from someone he's only just met. Nevertheless he lengthens his stride to catch up with Peter, finally coming to a stop near his elbow and with a view of the lake and its island castle. "What is that place?"
more lies!
"There's something that lives in the lake. Something big. I've only seen it break the surface a couple of times before, but I don't think any of us should be heading out there for a while." Even though he really does want to go explore the place. Sure, technology may be his thing, but the idea of checking out an actual castle is something he refuses to give up.
He turns silent then, his gaze sliding across to Bucky every now and then. As much as he may try to hide it, he's nowhere near as sneaky about it as he probably should be. But it's something he's unable to keep himself from doing. Even now, despite his own extra-curricular activities, Peter can't help but be in awe of the fact that he's stood next to a real superhero. Sure, they may have fought on opposite sides the last time they met. But he doesn't have a single doubt in his mind that he and Bucky would be on the same side against Thanos.
"You know..." He tucks his hands into his pockets, trying his best not to fidget. "Just because someone gets forced to do something bad, it doesn't make them a bad person." And with those last words and a sad smile that Peter moves off again, heading closer to the water's edge and kicking a stone into its depths. There's a part of him that's worried he's overstepped his mark. Afterall, he doesn't actually know Bucky. Doesn't have all the facts. But he'd like to believe, war criminal or not, that Captain America knew what he was doing when he took Bucky's side above Tony's.
I mean we could just wallow in suffering instead
Bucky squints at the lake as if it'll sharpen his focus on the image (it doesn't, his eyesight is better than most already, but that doesn't stop the action). He's not unaware of Peter studying him, and he's not exactly unused to scrutiny. The only unusual thing about it really is the fact that he's not in a cold metal chair, that he's not fighting off the cold and against the fog creeping into his brain. And he knows he's a lot to stare at; even if he didn't have the prosthetic that is his outstanding feature, he's a big, physical guy. And he has the impression that he might have enjoyed the attention, once. Now it's something to be noted and dismissed, a waiting until the moment passes.
He turns his attention back to Peter at those words though, wondering exactly how much the teen knows about him, about who and what he is. Enough to recognize him, certainly. Seemingly enough to know of both Sergeant Bucky Barnes and the Winter Soldier. Enough to imply knowledge of Bucky's forced compliance. But what more? And how deep does that knowledge go? It's more than a little uncomfortable, especially on top of a sudden arrival in so strange a place. But the look in Peter's eyes doesn't seem to be pity, though he's not entirely sure exactly how to interpret the emotion there.
After a moment he makes the decision to join Peter at the edge of the lake, still not fully convinced about any of it but deciding to take the chance that Peter's good will is genuine. "Just because someone is forced to do something against his will, doesn't make him completely innocent of the act. But thank you."