12 : Crumbling, stumbling, falling, crawling


A week passed since Sid had met half of the Avengers. Things had essentially gone back to the same old same old routine and she was currently getting ready to take some left over supplies down to the Morlocks. Not for lack of looking, but she hadn't seen James since she helped him escape from his non-enemy. She was hopelessly worried, but unsure of what to do. So she just kept busy.

She was currently packing up boxes with Jasmine, the middle aged southern woman who ran the shelter with an almost mechanical efficiency, who was hesitant about letting Sid go down into the tunnels alone.

"When you were hanging out with that one man I didn't feel so bad," She began, fitfully packing up the boxes and doing her best to keep her flowing sleeves out of the way.

"I don't need a man to take care of me." Sid growled playfully, "I'm perfectly capable of handling myself." She tucked away a few more packets of soap and toothpaste.

"I'm just saying, all by your lonesome in those dark tunnels…with those things —,"

Sid interrupted her immediately, "Ms. Jasmine, I have never heard you speak like that about another human being in my life!" Sid was actually surprised, the woman had been running the home for the past six years, before Sid had returned, before the aliens, before everything. She opened her doors to every single person on the street and never showed an ounce of prejudice in her body. Not many people were privy to truth of Sid's circumstance.

Jasmine sighed heavily, gripping the box, "I know, I know. I hate that I feel that way, but they scare me." She turned and faced Sid with a hint of desperation on her features, "With everything that's going on these days — you can't be too careful."

Sid nodded, still a bit miffed at her, "They're only as dangerous as everyone else. A bad person will do bad regardless of whatever power they possess: money, lightning, rage. These people are just like you and me. They're their own unique person with their own choices and ideas and skills — they've just been shunned too many times to feel good about living up top. These are people that are persecuted Jasmine. You've worked with Ororo for years! You can't tell me you think the same of her."

Jasmine rubbed her temples a little bit, "No, no, of course. You're right. I know they're just like anyone else, I do, deep down. This sort of thing just pulls me out of everything I thought I knew and believed. I'm confused and I'm sorry, me saying that about those people was insensitive and ignorant. I know nothing about them except what the news tells us."

Sid then laughed, a rich bitter sound, "Well that's why! It's all about fear mongering with the news, making it us vs. them." She finished with a condescending grandiose terror and then chuckled softly, "It's always the same with something that's different, because the world turns on power and manipulation." She sighed heavily, getting worked up over the age old problem of ignorance and fear, "Fact is, no one likes not knowing things. I get that, when something is new or proves you wrong, of course you want to fight against it — it's survival! But people are just people, Jasmine. They got the same needs you and I got. Don't matter if they got dark skin or light skin or they love the same gender or they can shoot fireworks out of their fingertips! We're all just trying to get through each damn day."

Jasmine walked over to where Sid was standing and packing the box with a little more vitriol than generally needed for toiletries. She got Sid's attention gently and smiled weakly, "I'm sorry, I really am, but if I never said stupid shit and get myself set straight by you I'd never learn."

Sid tried to hold back her smile, "I know Jasmine and you're a good person, I believe that." She took a hold of Jasmine's hand, pale and wrinkled from time and almost the complete opposite of her own. Sid's dark smooth skin was like marble, unfazed by the passage of years. She sighed, even though Jasmine didn't know of her particular gifts, the woman had been kind hearted and the things happening in the world even caused Sid to lose herself, "Things are scary, I'm not gonna disagree with you on that. Just don't get your information from just one source. Hear their side of it too. Even if it scares us because we don't understand."

Jasmine nodded valiantly, "I will, I will, I promise." She pulled Sid in for a tight hug and the ladies held each other for a few moments in silence, "How'd you get to be so damn wise at so young?"

Sid chuckled, "I guess I've just been through a lot."

Jasmine stepped back, moving her hands to hold Sid's face for a moment in a perfect reproduction of motherly compassion, "I know that darlin' I just hate the fact that you got so smart by seeing how wrong the world is."

Sid chuckled sadly, her heart clenching in her chest with those words. "Someone's gotta go through it, I guess."

Jasmine gazed at Sid sadly, "You're the strongest there is." She finished, patting the girl on the cheek. "Let's finish this up, let's get these supplies to your friends. I'll even include some of the cookies from last week to try and make myself feel like less of an asshole."

Sid just laughed as they returned to their boxes, "That's right, that's right, we'll be feasting like kings tonight on your delectable cookie-shaped guilt."

Jasmine just laughed and shook her head, "Well, I am indeed thankful for the people in my life that make me see how the world actually is, not just how I'm lead to see it. The good and bad."

Sid nodded, "And that's why I love you Jasmine. Everyone has bad thoughts sometimes, fear clouds our judgment, we all make mistakes. I'm not gonna hold it against you."

"Well, that's good — especially because I got a kitchen delivery comin' in soon and since your hunk of man is missing, I can't help you finish the boxes." She winked as she strolled towards the door, "Probably wishing you hadn't kicked that new boy to the curb, huh?"

Sid rolled her eyes, "He was a friend and he had to take a trip to visit family."

"I know that tone of friend." Jasmine shook a finger over her shoulder at Sid as she left the room with a grin.

Sid just laughed and finished packing up the supplies, trying to keep James off her mind.

Hours later she was strolling through the tunnels, she trudged along empty-handed, thinking deeply and ignoring the oppressive darkness around her. The blackness never really scared her, she had spent so much time in these tunnels that she knew them better than herself. In the beginning, Sid and Callisto were some of the few people that had actually mapped out the tunnels, back when they were just a bunch of stupid kids — decades ago.

She kicked at the dirt she couldn't see, wondering just how the world would start changing this time. Before meeting James, before knowing the Avengers and the attack on New York, she had spent her days moving from place to place, helping whoever needed it, trying to find meaning in life through seeing others living it. She'd kept a low profile for the last couple of decades, giving up essentially all worldly possessions and living off the grid while still technically thriving in it.

Now, she felt like she was smack dab in the middle of a world crisis, the Avengers on one side and James on the other. She wanted to help people, she wanted to helpJames, but she wasn't quite sure if she'd do it right. Even if she could find him, she felt like turning him over to Steve would be absolute betrayal. But she also worried that leaving him completely to his own devices without a willing resource to help him would be as cruel as putting a bullet in his head. No one deserved to be tormented and alone. From what Steve said and how James acted, she had a feeling that James probably lost that luxury a long time ago.

She pulled out her lighter and fiddled with it, twirling it in her fingertips like she always did when faced with tumultuous decisions. In the advent of the internet, she found a fantastic person who posted videos of intricate tricks they had taught themselves using a Zippo lighter. Never to be out done, Sid quickly took up the study, stealing away moments in libraries to watch the videos and attempt to memorize them. It took a few months to figure it out, but it was an amazing way to keep her hands busy and help her actively focus.

After doing a quick flip of the lighter, she caught it perfectly, the flame still lit no matter how many times it spun. She focused herself intently on the dancing wisp. She closed out everything else and just stared. She knew she needed to touch it to feel that insane sort of buzz, but she always tried to do it telepathically. She forced the feeling of heat, vibrating within in her, surging forward for that little spark, where she lost herself completely to its wild energy.

It was such an intense oneness between her and whatever element she was manipulating. While she maintained it, it was a beautiful sort of adrenaline rush, pushing a bounty of intensity through her system. When that connection stirred it was like she was truly alive, full of an energy that resonated in her core. The moment it ended though, that moment she stepped back, separating herself from that beautiful chaotic force, she felt immediately drained. It was a bitch of a way to live.

As she stepped forward, gazing at her lighter, she felt more than she saw the flame get doused in the dash of wind. Before the shadows overtook her, there was a slight glint before the dull light died out completely. The little flash was drowned by the shadows, faster than it came and with the darkness, the grip of something viselike clamped down on her neck. She tried to scream, but even air was halted in her throat by the chill of the fingers around it.

She was tugged harshly to the side and thrown against the wall. The second her hands hit the dirt, she felt the connection surge within her and sent stones flying backwards towards whoever was attacking her.

There was an echo of something sharp that pinged past her as she tried to turn, but she felt the force of the person charging at her right before she was slammed against the wall, face first into the grit. She bounced off with a yelp, her brain ringing inside her skull as she rebounded. Her wrists were grabbed mid bounce and then impossibly fast, she was spun around, her hands locked against her pelvis in an ice cold grip. She gasped this time, pulling in the first full breath of air not tainted by dirt. As her head went to collide with the wall on the bounce back, she thought she'd had another chance to get contact with the dirt and send some flying in her attacker's face. But when she landed, her head was caught, in the padded flesh of someone's palm.

She was breathing heavily and struggling against her captor, her hands were bound but in order to keep her away from the wall, her attacker gripped her hair and twisted to keep her compliant.

"S-st-stop." She rasped out, coughing from the dust in her throat.

"What did you do?" He snarled into her ear and Sid's heart broke at the sound. His voice, though deep and threatening had an edge to it, one that cut her deep.

"James?" She sighed into the void, relieved, terrified, exhausted. "James, it's just me, Sid. Let me light some torches and you can see me."

"I —," He started, his grip shifting with the voices caught in this throat. "I can't —, I don't —,"

"James." Sid cleared her throat, "James, listen to me. We are in the tunnels, The Alley, the place you chose as refuge because you knew you'd be safe. You're safe here, I promise."

"What —," he began again, his voice hoarse and halted. His grip tightened in his frustration and Sid let out a painful squeal, trying her best to keep her cries from being too loud. She didn't want any of the Morlocks coming and seeing this. They would try to stop him. He'd likely kill them in this state. He'd likely kill them all. He exhaled at the noise her breath made and his fingers relaxed, "Tell me." He demanded, pain clear in the cracking of his voice.

"What do you want to know? Tell me specifically," she insisted in a calm and soothing voice, "think about this exact moment: you have me, Sid, pinned against the wall and you're upset. Think about what is happening and tell me what you want from me. I will answer and I will be honest."

He nodded, his head so close to hers that they bumped together and in the small moment of contact she felt him, the tune of him, just ricochet through her. "I need —," he paused and took a breath, leaning his head against hers again and finding relief, "I need to know what you said to him."

She nodded as he relaxed his grasp further, her feet finally touching the floor fully again, "What I said to Captain America?" She whispered and he nodded again, driving his forehead into hers, exhaling shakily, "I told him that I knew you, James, that's all. We met after you tussled with some Morlocks and I intervened. Remember?" He nodded again, his grip on her hair was so much gentler than before, "Okay, so then you came and shadowed me. We hung out all the time. I started giving you chores. We became friends. I gave you Dolly. You slept better."

He nodded again, harder still as he tried to ground himself through her, "You gave me Dolly." He repeated, his voice tight.

"I did." She added softly, "I'm your friend. I told him that, but nothing to do with where you were or who you decided to be. He wants to talk to you but I told him that it's your choice, James. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

He grunted and let go of her hands as his metal fist rose, driving into the wall next to her with a resounding crack. Sid flinched at the impact, but he did his best to hold her away from it. "The mission…" He growled, confusion clear through the terror in his tone.

Sid took a risk since she couldn't see him and reached out a slow hand, finding his stomach and touching it gently. She ventured upwards slowly, fingertips to knuckles to palms until her hand rested over his heart. She could trace the faint scars that webbed from his shoulder through his shirt, but her hands stayed still, "James. There is no mission. No one commands you anymore. You are in control."

He sighed heavily, the hand at the back of her head began to shake as he pulled it away from her hair and it slid down her neck, dragging limply down her body. James collapsed to his knees, shaking, hyperventilating as he choked on a sob. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Sid's waist and began to cry tears she was sure he'd been holding in for the last century. It was a devastating sound.

Sid shook as he gripped her in such desperation. Her eyes welled with sorrowful tears and she felt horrified, sick, and terribly, terribly heartbroken. When he asked about a mission, she got a terrifying inkling of the sort of thing he used to do. Watching him fight Steve had been another thing to fill in the cracks. Whatever had been done to him, whatever missions they gave him, she knew she was far out of her depth. She knew absolutely that she couldn't be the one to help him the way he needed. There was such a severe brokenness in him that she couldn't possibly mend it. She couldn't even begin to understand how. The way he curled around her was like a young boy, begging for forgiveness in order to be spared the rod. She wrapped her hands around his head and pulled him closer while his misery was manifested by a stream of tears.

As she slowly sunk to her knees, he adjusted his grip, holding her against him like a lifeline, shaking and heaving like the world would surely end. She just held him close, without a word, without a sound, holding him tightly and refusing to let go. Her arms wrapped around his neck and shoulders and she leaned in, pressing the side of her face into his neck as sobs tempered his lips. What good was a healing power anyway if she couldn't make all pain go away?

After a while, when the sobbing turned to sniffling, then to breathing, and finally to the empty silence of fear, she held James close to her and sighed, "He wants to help you."

He pulled her closer, digging his face into her neck this time, "I don't know if he can."

"Whatever has been done to you, it doesn't need to be undone," She pulled away from him, grabbing the sides of his head and doing her best to focus him in the darkness, "You just need to heal. You don't need to be exactly like before, you just need to survive and you need to live with the scars. They don't have to go away for you to be all right again."

He crumpled against her again, gripping her close and she held him tight, he whimpered against her, "Not yet, I just…"

"Hey," she whispered, pulling him back from the devastating silence with her voice, "it doesn't have to be right now. It just has to happen and I'll help you. I'll help him. I'll do whatever it takes to make you feel like you can survive."

"Why?" He begged, his voice cracking, "Why would you do that?"

She pulled him closer again, "Because if I've learned anything in my life, it's that letting go of the people you love is the greatest pain you'll ever bear. I see it in him and I see something different in you," she took a deep breath and pressed her lips against his forehead, "but loss comes in all forms: death, deception, abandonment, a broken heart — it stings. You don't have to suffer alone. He wants to see you, he wants to help you and I assume that whatever he does will make my efforts pale in comparison. He told me you're like his brother."

A silence stretched on while James's breathing leveled out and his grip on her went from panicked to simply tight.

"He's more." He whispered into her shoulder and the words sounded so haunted, she could only wait a few beats before nodding slowly. Nothing in her mind was a decent enough response for the pain in that statement.

"Let's go back to the shelter and get you cleaned up, okay? Maybe we can get something to eat." She smiled.

His nod was gentle and when he moved it was almost as if he weren't even there in the first place. He reached out a hand to help Sid stand and she took it, appreciating the gesture. She would be ruined tomorrow from hitting that wall. They leaned on each other as they made their way out of the tunnel, slowly but surely finding their way home.

Back at the shelter, Sid got the keys to one of the private rooms usually reserved for families in need and it was thankfully vacated. She guided him through the motions of humanity, while he remained impassive and vacant. Gingerly, she helped him undress and helped him into the shower, seeing for the first time, the full horror of his arm, his scars, and his story.

She did her best to choke back her outrage that someone could do that to another person without remorse. She just helped him wash up while he stared off into nothing, his lips moving in a soundless production while she tended to him. Once they were both fully scrubbed, she guided them out of the shower and she dried herself quickly, sliding on a dry pair of underwear and tank top before turning back to James to help him do the same.

She eventually got him into the queen sized bed, made so small by his mountainous frame and made so lonely by the desolation in his eyes. She curled around him and started talking, telling him a story from when she was younger and first joined up with the Morlocks. She tried to make him laugh, telling him all about how they lived like kings on stolen McDonalds and swiped bottles of malt liquor. She wanted him, for a moment, to see that life could be precious even in the darkest of times, but she just didn't know the way to explain how he would ever get there.

Eventually, her voice began to slur with exhaustion. Her words trailed off into nothing and she slowly fell asleep, listening to the rolling thunder of his lungs that lulled her peacefully into nothingness.


A/N

*Wailing and gnashing of teeth* uggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhh poor bucky. I just want to wrap him in bubble wrap and love him for shits sake... Poor precious cinnamon roll...By the way, if you're on Tumblr, I'm SaraRoseUrBoat, so find me. I am usually just crying about all of the Marvel Universe and talking about gay stuff. 3