Scars cover you in fine lines

[amery]

Sometimes a day off wasn't a blessing, sometimes he didn't care about sleeping in and having nothing that he was obligated to do that day. It gave him too much time to think, and even though it had happened five years ago, he still had nightmares about the crash. Today he'd woken up screaming and thrashing in bed, and after showering away the cold sweat, well, he'd ended up here.

He wasn't a very club oriented person-he disliked them, really. There was too many people there and they always tried to talk to him, like he'd really gone out there to meet someone. If he had though, then he wouldn't always be going home to an empty apartment. That wasn't the point though, and it was not why he had dared to leave his place for something other than work or food. It was a high class place at least, clean and decent, a little on the expensive side, but nothing that he couldn't afford. He was only here for the alcohol anyway, drinks that he didn't even care to know the name of, just hoping that it was enough to banish the memories, the sickening, dizzying feeling of falling, the pain.

Abruptly, Amery put his glass down, rising to his feet. He wasn't sure if he had had too much to drink or if the memories were too much, but he suddenly felt like he was going to be sick. He did his best to try and make his way towards the door, but he stumbled hard and veered right into someone. At least he didn't puke on them, though he did cover his mouth with one hand, reaching out blindly to try and steady himself with the other. "I'm terribly sorry," he muttered, not even realizing that he'd spoken in Volstovic and not English.

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[sidecut]

[ The words aren't familiar, not to his knowledge or his programming, but the face is. In that distant way he knows it is both his and not his; the similarities frightening, but the differences is maintenance astounding. Bucky knows Amery; they have been on missions before, met before, knows the strangeness others may find in the way they look the same and yet different. Bucky knows his face in the way it does not look like his own, his mental image of his face skewed over time; in the way he can identify Amery as within the realms of what would be construed to be the social construct of attractiveness, while he does not hold himself in that same resolve. Too much has changed, too artificial, too apparently melded in uncomfortable ways.

He does not know how much of that counts for fondness, but it must be something more than nothing when his fingers curl at Amery's upper arm and hold. It isn't cruel or bruising, not like it could be, but there is still that firm surety there of someone who has settled with his choices. ] Amery. [ His voice is low, firm, spoken to his shoulder and ear when James leans in. ] Are you alright? [ His tone is bland but the question in itself is not insincere; if he did not care, he would not ask. With Bucky it was that simple. ]

You don't look well.

[amery]

[Oh, Bastion. At least it was a familiar voice, and he wasn't making a fool of himself in front of a complete stranger. Just someone he was somewhat familiar with. Which did not make it any better, really. But it also could have been worse.

Closing his eyes tightly, he kept his hand pressed over his mouth for a long moment, and shook his head. No, he was not alright at the moment. Taking a deep breath, he managed to straighten up at least, lowering his hand from his mouth. This time, he managed to keep his languages straight, even, and answered in English rather than Volstovic.] Not really, no. I'm terribly sorry about running into you.

[sidecut]

[ It's enough for him to cast a look around the room, as if trying to assess what had caused such a disruption to Amery-- but there is really nothing of note happening. Perhaps it had already dissipated or there was more to it than James was seeing at the moment. His hand does not move, instead becoming a more steady grip just below the shoulder, offering a bit of grounding when he looked so painfully out of sorts. ]

Do you need assistance? [ Though it sounded vaguely like more than just a question; a bit of assumption there. He wasn't allowed to force him to do anything, but that didn't mean he wouldn't try to influence what he felt the right choice to be. James had very few rules to abide by, and only applied to specific people, despite what some might think-- but he has enough of a conscious to monitor himself and make reviews of his own behavior and correct it as need be. ]

I can help you.

[amery]

[The only way he felt this could possibly be more embarrassing was if he puked on James's shoes, but he didn't feel like he was in danger of doing that, at least. He supposed that he should have been thankful for the small favors.] I think what I need most right now is a bit of fresh air.

[He swallowed, trying his best to compose himself even though, just for a moment, he wanted to lean into James and take some sort of comfort in not being alone right now, but that would have felt vulnerable somehow.] I might've had a bit too much to drink.

[sidecut]

[ He remembers, in the vague way he remembers some things that happened so long ago, what it was like to be too drunk or to be hungover. It garners a bit of sympathy; but Amery looks a little worse for wear outside of that. James decides, then, to take it upon himself to help Amery when he's gotten no real answer. It's not an outright refusal, so he will simply go from there. One hand is light, against his arm, just below the shoulder as he aims to lead him out into the night, to the open air environment. His health takes precedence over monitoring the synthetics; it was a routine stop anyway and James is pleased that it at least offered something more than basic information. He can assist Amery, which he is keen on doing so long as he is allowed to.

The night is cold, but not as cold as it used to be; with all the machines and lights running, the downtown area always manages to forgo frost for a month longer than the rest of the city. The winter months no longer having the large units pouring chilled air into the streets-- James himself was fitted with a cooling unit should he need to keep any components under a specific temperature. Though he was enough of a man, in some ways, that he usually forwent such measures. ]

Do you need water? Food?

[amery]

[He was both relieved and grateful for the assistance. It was hard for him to ask for help outright, but he wasn't going to turn it down, either. Not when he needed it.

He stumbled, once, as he started to walk, but then regained his balance and was alright after that brief hang up. He knew anyway-or hoped, at least-that even if he had started to fall, he wouldn't be allowed to. When they got outside, he took a deep breath, wanting nothing more than to sink down to the ground and feel the pavement under his hands, so that no matter what was going through his head, he knew that he had no where to fall. But that too, would have been vulnerable, so he opted instead to lean against the wall for the time being.]

Water, I think. [He hesitated for a moment, and then added:] Thank you.

[sidecut]

[ Light but firm, seems to be the consistent theme as far as James was concerned. Fingers pressing into Amery, holding him to the wall and making sure he was able to support his own weight before he even let go. There was a faint nod, a lingering glance (don't move), before he pulled back to head inside and get a glass of water. He'd give Amery a moment to breathe, to compose himself but it wasn't something he was going to let linger for too long. He wanted to be able to keep an eye on him, and leaving him alone was not going to offer that. A purse of his lips as he move dot the bar, getting a glass filled with water-- billed to EDEN thankfully, before he returned. Fresh water, crisp as it was, isn't always free in places like this anymore. Not like he remembers it.

Turning to Amery he gave him a long look over before he approached. ] It's cold, don't drink it too fast.

[amery]

[He nodded; he got the message. He wasn't going anywhere. He did, however, sink down to the ground the moment that James was gone. Closing his eyes, he rested his forehead on his knees and his hands against the ground. He felt more stable that way, less dizzy-the moment of feeling vulnerable was worth it.

He took a few deep breaths, already pushing himself back up to his feet when James returned. Amery was steadier now, at least, and his hand only shook a little when he reached out to take the glass of water, though he still held it in both hands so that he wouldn't drop it.] I won't, thank you.

[sidecut]

[ He returns, in time to find him prone and moving. Watching cautiously, strong fingers curl around his forearm, helping him to a stand, the other offering out the glass. Fingertips lingering till he was sure the cup was steady enough not to be dropped-- not that he cared about the glass but he didn't want Amery to cut himself on it somehow. A low hum sounds form his throat, but his grip doesn't loosen. If anything it's a little more firm, making sure he'll keep upright now. ]

I'm going to take you home. [ It was less a question and more a statement with the way he said it-- while Amery had the right to refuse, it was questionable if Bucky would bother to comply if he did. ] Can you walk? [ He seemed unsure, giving him a long look over. More than willing to simply carrying him there if he needed to. They may be about the same stature but there's been a lot replaced in the both of them and Bucky is more than sure he'd be able to pluck up Amery should he need to. ]

[amery]

[It was strange, someone-what could this even be called? Fussing over him? He was used to being on his own, maybe receiving odd looks from people if something happened in public. While it was strange though, it wasn't unwelcome. Even if he felt vaguely fragile with the way that he was being treated. Maybe he was a little fragile right now.

He took a sip of the water before raising an eyebrow.] I can walk, yes. I'll be all right, honestly. [He didn't sound very sure about it himself, though.]

[sidecut]

[ He doesn't retort, but his look shows the disbelief, even if it's washed away shortly after. A soft hum leaving his throat as his arm slips around Amery's side, taking care that his grip isn't too firm or painful. He wasn't going to leave him here, regardless of what he said next, and so Bucky took it upon himself to start leading the matched set away.

It might look strange, but that hadn't even become something that sunk in for him. His focus was Amery and bringing him home, where he could make sure he at least ate a bit and continued to remain hydrated. ]

Let me know if you need help.