Despite the light barely filtering through the far window, Bucky sees it immediately. Bucky only threw that question out there just so he doesn’t have to think about getting killed in the War - hell, he’ll talk about anything stupid just so he doesn’t have to really face it yet - but Steve goes still, so still you’d think he was afraid he’d been sighted in the field. After a moment, Steve sags a little and looks down at his hands hanging limp.
Bucky’s eyebrow raise: Steve, taking a break? The guy didn’t even take a break when he was ninety-something and some change, when a chill breeze could do him in.
“Must’ve been a rough couple of months.” Bucky says slowly, as if it’ll lead to Steve spilling…. though what if it’s what put that exhaustion on Steve’s face? Must’ve been hell if this is what got Steve needing a break, when he’d never needed one back during a full scale War. “Guess our digs are gone, huh?”
Bucky starts; a clock tower in the distance strikes, echoing like a reminder that there’s a world out there, and time hasn’t frozen like Bucky feels it has. Shaking himself a little, Bucky glances out past Steve’s shoulder towards the span of windows along the bar’s front, but he’s only greeted with a thick pea soup crowded up along the streets, and through it, the dim shadows of buildings and alleys that look like specters that had come with him from his time.
Steve’s right. They gotta get a move on it. Bucky gets to his feet and holds a hand out to Steve. “Yeah, I’m fine. Last thing I want is attention right now, and we’ll get company soon.”
The fog, it turns out, is a godsend, even when the English early chill sinks into his bones like it always has. At least that hasn’t changed, Bucky thinks; the cold seeps into a guy’s veins just like it did back on the front, so deep that you start to forget what it’s like to actually feel warm again. Bucky doesn’t bitch, not even once. He tugs his collar up and hunches his shoulders while they slip through the alleys and streets, while their breaths puff out in faint white clouds.
The area’s changed just enough that Bucky would’ve been lost if it wasn’t for Steve. And he sure as hell wouldn’t have noticed the abandoned apartment if it weren’t for Steve; suddenly they’re veering off, and down a couple turns, there’s a drawn up emergency ladder that isn’t enough to stop them both. The apartment sits near roof level, and only one of the windows has been broken; other than that, it looks like they’re not about to bust in on someone.
“So we hole up here for a bit, get our bearings.” Bucky says, rubbing at his arms. The place doesn’t look half bad, actually. “You think we’re gonna have a tail?”
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Bucky’s eyebrow raise: Steve, taking a break? The guy didn’t even take a break when he was ninety-something and some change, when a chill breeze could do him in.
“Must’ve been a rough couple of months.” Bucky says slowly, as if it’ll lead to Steve spilling…. though what if it’s what put that exhaustion on Steve’s face? Must’ve been hell if this is what got Steve needing a break, when he’d never needed one back during a full scale War. “Guess our digs are gone, huh?”
Bucky starts; a clock tower in the distance strikes, echoing like a reminder that there’s a world out there, and time hasn’t frozen like Bucky feels it has. Shaking himself a little, Bucky glances out past Steve’s shoulder towards the span of windows along the bar’s front, but he’s only greeted with a thick pea soup crowded up along the streets, and through it, the dim shadows of buildings and alleys that look like specters that had come with him from his time.
Steve’s right. They gotta get a move on it. Bucky gets to his feet and holds a hand out to Steve. “Yeah, I’m fine. Last thing I want is attention right now, and we’ll get company soon.”
The fog, it turns out, is a godsend, even when the English early chill sinks into his bones like it always has. At least that hasn’t changed, Bucky thinks; the cold seeps into a guy’s veins just like it did back on the front, so deep that you start to forget what it’s like to actually feel warm again. Bucky doesn’t bitch, not even once. He tugs his collar up and hunches his shoulders while they slip through the alleys and streets, while their breaths puff out in faint white clouds.
The area’s changed just enough that Bucky would’ve been lost if it wasn’t for Steve. And he sure as hell wouldn’t have noticed the abandoned apartment if it weren’t for Steve; suddenly they’re veering off, and down a couple turns, there’s a drawn up emergency ladder that isn’t enough to stop them both. The apartment sits near roof level, and only one of the windows has been broken; other than that, it looks like they’re not about to bust in on someone.
“So we hole up here for a bit, get our bearings.” Bucky says, rubbing at his arms. The place doesn’t look half bad, actually. “You think we’re gonna have a tail?”