From Siberia to Fandom's Causeway, Sometime Friday

[weirderthanthou]

The last couple of days had been eventful.

But the moment they spotted an opening to leave, Jesse and Bucky took it. Jesse's first instinct had been to walk until they found the nearest Portalocity station, but somehow the universe - or the Oldest House - had intervened.

They walked, and the world slowly warped around them. The smell of pine trees permeated the air, hot coals and warm coffee. For a moment, it was as if the ocean itself lapped gently through the skein of the heavens around them, washing away the taste of rough and jagged Russia.

Then that, too, faded.

And suddenly there was asphalt under Jesse's feet, the school's spire towering not far from her view.

"Huh," she said quietly. "Thanks, Ahti."

[[ for him, and nfb ]]

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[shapethecentury]

You know, for a second there, Bucky was pretty sure he must've gotten his brain knocked around in his skull even worse than he'd thought. But then the world righted itself again, and there it was: the island.

Looking the same as he remembered it. The same it had always been.

He felt too tired to really feel any kind of way about it, and yet the only word that rolled out his mouth was, "Shit."

Quiet, like a sigh.

[weirderthanthou]

"That's another word for it," Jesse allowed.

She turned her head and looked at him. "I don't think anyone's taken over your apartment?"

[shapethecentury]

She didn't want to know many images of ghosts of apartments past Bucky had to flick through in his mind before he even landed on the right one. Basement, Fandom, right.

He frowned. "After this long?"

Jesus, what was wrong with this island?

[weirderthanthou]

Jesse shrugged. "You never officially moved out," she said. "No paperwork, no vacancy."

... She might have had something to do with it, yes.

[shapethecentury]

Bucky had his suspicions, but he could get into them at another time. Preferably one where he'd washed all the blood off his face, and his non-existent arm wasn't aching.

And he'd had time to process... any of the past two days.

Actually, that might take a while.

"I don't even have the keys." Wasn't even sure what he'd done with them when he'd left. Maybe he'd just left them in the apartment?

[weirderthanthou]

Jesse's expression softened, and yet went a little more wry at the same time.

"Do you want to sleep in my guest bedroom? We can figure out where the keys are in the morning."

[shapethecentury]

Sleep. What a distant concept that felt like.

And yet Bucky found himself saying, "That works." Quiet again, and a little softer too.

[weirderthanthou]

Jesse nodded.

"How's your shoulder?" she added quietly.

She resumed walking. The quicker they got to the apartment, the sooner James could rest.

[shapethecentury]

"Like it's got a broken arm attached to it."

At least the serum ever-present in his body was working hard enough that he could actually walk without help, by now. It didn't do shit to the exhaustion, but it helped otherwise.

[weirderthanthou]

"Would... aspirin help?" Jesse asked. "Wait. Shit. That's probably a stupid question."

[shapethecentury]

It made Bucky give a huff that... may have been amused? Or just reflex.

He shook his head, either way.

"It's fine," he said. (Her saying the aspirin thing was fine. The shoulder was not.) "I'll figure something out."

[weirderthanthou]

Jesse nodded slowly.

"We can take you to the clinic tomorrow, too," she said.

At least MCA wasn't far? She had this weird desire to put him to bed and heat up some chicken soup or something.

That's for flu, not for amputated metal arms.

[shapethecentury]

"I don't think this is something the clinic can help with."

Or maybe they could? He hadn't been around for years, guess they could've gotten someone in that knew how to handle something more than flesh.

[weirderthanthou]

"They can at least help you with the pain," Jesse tried carefully, as they turned a corner into their street.

[shapethecentury]

There was not a street in the multiverse that counted as Bucky's right now. And yet here he was, anyway. Rounding the corner alongside her, casting a wary look down the street as he gave her words a vague nod.

It was beginning to set in where he was.

He didn't even know who all still lived here. Hell, he was half surprised Jesse still did.

[weirderthanthou]

"C'mon," Jesse said, as they finally found themselves facing the MCA building. She took out her keys, opening the door quickly. "You need a shower, too."

[shapethecentury]

Did she know how much work that sounded like just now?

Bucky followed, regardless. Sooner he was off the street, the sooner he could stop feeling exposed.

[weirderthanthou]

He'd feel better if he put in the work. She was pretty sure.

Jesse was silent for the rest of the journey, taking them up to her apartment. That door opened quickly, too, and she held it while she waited for him to step inside.

[shapethecentury]

Bucky slipped inside like a ghost - and then came to a stop almost immediately. Aside from Siberia, it had been a long time since he'd been in a place that was familiar. That held memories.

And the memories from here were as quiet and calm as they had been buried.

He didn't know what to do with it. He just felt something clenching.

[weirderthanthou]

"You should get a shower."

Jesse wasn't sure what to do about the stillness - and so she deferred to the idea of action. Literally, in another sense: she closed the door. "I'll get you a towel," she added. "And I'll grab a blanket for you once you're in there."

[shapethecentury]

"'Kay," Bucky heard himself say, swallowing the first syllable but forcing the rest out.

He'd move, in a... in a second.

[weirderthanthou]

Shit.

Jesse reached out. Carefully.

Pressed a hand against his shoulder. The one made of skin and bone.

[shapethecentury]

Well, Bucky didn't flinch, at least? Although he did sort of... waver in place a little.

Swallowing something more down.

[weirderthanthou]

"James," Jesse said. Quiet.

[shapethecentury]

Bucky considered telling her he'd never really been a 'James'. Not unless, like Steve had said, his Ma had been cross with him. Or a fake psychiatrist was questioning him, apparently.

But it sounded different from her, and so he didn't want to.

"It's fine," he tried, his gaze falling towards the floor. "It's fine."