[for Jason]

[onlyapassenger]

By necessity, Bucky isn't a heavy sleeper. There's no telling when he could be called away for some crisis (particularly with the rate that they seem to crop up around him), and being constantly aware of his immediate surroundings has served him well in both the past and present. It's a been a rare night these past couple of weeks that hasn't seen him in bed with Natasha, but the small hours of this particular morning find him alone in his room as he wakes with a start, startled from a nightmare whose details escape him the moment consciousness hits.

There are, immediately, more pressing matters.

His arm is caught in the sheets, which wouldn't be strange in and of itself were the arm a familiar one... But it's not. Heavy and hissing with steam, it takes some effort for Bucky to pry himself out of the bed, clockwork gears jammed from the bedding's interference. Last year, his pajamas had changed with the cold weather, but even in the dim light, it's clear to see that the Island's newest trick is far more elaborate than its last.

"What the--" he starts, too disoriented to work up any proper sense of rage. Feeling unbalanced once he finally manages to get to his feet, he nevertheless rushes out of the new room. "Jason!"

Comments

[prodigaljaybird]

Yanked from a sleep so fitful it's a wonder he wasn't awake already, Jason is up and out of the bed at Bucky's shout, flying across the room on feet wrapped in ridiculous, footed pajamas.

Wrenching open a dresser that's foreign and familiar all at once, he pulls a gun into his hand, noting from the weight as much as anything that it's not at all the one he means it to be.

"What?" he chokes out, back to the wall beside a door he doesn't recognize, ears cocked again for Bucky. Tentatively, Jason turns the doorknob and risks a quick look out. "What is this? Bucky?"

[onlyapassenger]

He's not off his guard, but there's no denying that Bucky relaxes upon hearing Jason's voice, the tense line of his shoulders slumping into a more natural posture, though the extra weight of the arm means he's necessarily favoring one side.

"Island's really outdone itself," he calls out, making his way to the kid's room. It's a small favor that found them both in the house instead of elsewhere; God only knows how much the rest of the Island's changed.

[prodigaljaybird]

"This is the island," Jason states, half-question as he looks between Bucky and the gun in his hand. It's...his own, just as this room is his own, and yet like nothing he's ever before laid eyes on.

"Jesus," he breathes, looking up again with eyes that grow steadily wider. "Your arm." He startles at the tiny burst of steam escapes it, all the moreso when he sees how Bucky's leaning. "Shit, does it hurt? How does that not burn you?"

[onlyapassenger]

"Nah, it's just..." says Bucky, rolling his left shoulder back. The mobility is about the same, but Fury's guys had been working with considerably more sophisticated materials than whatever the hell this thing's made of. With a muffled grunt, Bucky moves to remove the arm, sliding it up and off in a jumble of clicks; holding it aloft when he's done, he's sure to keep the steam facing away from his body.

"Heavy."

[prodigaljaybird]

"It's so much bigger," Jason murmurs, and yet...it's kind of cool. Inspired, he runs back to his bed, pulling the gauntlet he keeps from beneath his pillow. "Wow," he exhales, staring at it. The compartments are the same on the outside, yet when he opens each, they slide in ways that are entirely new, exposing to him a whole new host of miniature weapons.

"Like clockwork. Wow." Jason looks up again, eyes falling on Bucky's considerably bulkier arm. "Are you going to wear it?"

[onlyapassenger]

"If winter lasts as long as last year...?" says Bucky, eyes sliding past the arm to look at Jason, though his attention immediately grabbed by the gauntlet instead.

"I'd rather not go around for over a month missing an arm."

[prodigaljaybird]

"Yeah," Jason exhales. It sucks, and in a way he knows will piss Bucky off. He can't hide that arm whether he wears it or doesn't - he has no choice in deciding whether people know he's lost an arm. It's pretty shitty, and while Jason's frown holds no pity, it's sorry all the same.

"But if our hut's like this," he says, crossing to the window to throw back the curtains. "Holy shit." He can see..."Big Ben? We're in London?"

[onlyapassenger]

Having been distracted by everything else, Bucky hasn't even had a chance to look outside one of the frosted windows. He crosses over to Jason, edging just in front of the kid so he'll be able to see the sights. A hushed swear passes through his lips as he takes it all in, eyes widening slightly. He's lived through some crazy crap on this island, but this is on a whole other scale. Gingerly setting down the arm, he presses his now empty hand to the imperfect glass, letting the condensation form beneath his palm before he draws back.

"Looks like."