fossilised | I come from a land of ice and snow

I come from a land of ice and snow

Asgard sat atop the branches of Yggdrasil since time began, and little had changed in their society in the years since. Each Asgardian was long-lived into the millennia, their lands were fertile, their people brave and strong. They had their vassals, their allies, and their enemies. Yet even those who opposed them respected the might of the Golden Dias, and the royalty who sat upon it. Currently that was Odin Borson, though he grew weary more easily now and had begun to consider passing the throne to his eldest son.

He had been blessed with many children, but only two that he considered worthy of his lineage and status. His firstborn, Thor, strong and honourable and everything an Asgardian warrior should be. His second son, Loki, was not natural born, though none knew that but his wife. He was different, a creature of magic and mayhem, of sharp intelligence. Both were worthy, but together they would take Asgard to a new prosperity, he was certain of it.

Midgard, where the mortals dwelt, was a land raided every few centuries for stock. It was seen as a breeding ground, much like a corral for cattle. Mortals were lesser, short-lived and weak, they were fit only as slaves. The last raid had taken place when Loki had been but a baby, nearly a thousand years ago, but the mortals that had been taken had been bred and cared for so that a healthy slave population still thrived. Slaves were given a weakened mixture of Idunn's crop with their food, to extend their natural lives to at least a few centuries in order to make them worth the effort to train. They had no rights, but they were taught well that this was their natural position.

All slave children were raised in a central pen and taught the same when small, those that then displayed talent at cooking, riding, hunting, housework, artisan skills, or singing were then measured off to be specially trained for higher masters. Every five years those who could afford to buy a slave, or those of high enough status to simply demand them, came to the corral and chose. Those who were chosen were special, were envied, and those who were not ended up working the fields out in the far reaches of Asgard, the most menial of work.

Anthony and Steven had been friends since they were little and being raised in the large pens together. Both had excelled, Anthony at crafting and Steven at warrior's skills, but neither were chosen when they were five, nor ten, nor even fifteen. Now, at twenty, it was their final chance to be chosen before they would be assigned to one of the meanest farmers beyond the borders of the great capital. Steven woke Anthony as the dawn rose, mingled excitement and nerves on his face.

"Anthony! Wake up, I've got news! I heard the overseer talking to one of the passing guards, and Princes Thor and Loki are coming to the corral today."

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Tony didn't want Bruce to go. He didn't want to be alone... But he had too much pride to call him back, to sit down with him and whisper about all of the atrocities he faced. He just couldn't. Tony's heart sank as Bruce closed the door behind him, but the scientist wasn't a mind reader. How could he know what Tony needed?

The engineer would eventually lay down on a cot, curl up, and sleep. At least it was dreamless.

As Bruce was headed back from the room, he would find himself walking in step with that slim Indian man who had introduced himself as Dr. Suresh from his initial extraction time.

"Doctor Banner? We all heard quite the commotion. Is everything all right?"

Bruce was worried about Tony, but he was also worried about Bucky and Steve and Clint and literally everyone else they've picked up. Humanity has had a rough time of it lately and he feared that it could go either direction - into community and healing, or into people being too fractured to cope and everything falling apart - and there was nothing he could do to help it.

His smile when Mohinder fell into step beside him was thin and slightly harried. He didn't want to be rude, and it was good that someone else was willing to be concerned, but chatting wasn't top of his priority list right then.

"Yes, fine, thank you. Tony had just never given blood before and wasn't expecting the sensations when he stood up."

That, at least, was nominally true and protected Tony's pride for a while.

"Is everyone settled in?"

"As well as can be expected, yes," Mohinder said, an ease to his step. One would think with the strangeness his life had been, he would be better prepared for each new thing that came to pass. It still shook him, but he had an uncanny ability to let things roll off of his back. That, and his work with DNA and SHIELD sponsored work with the serum where Bruce had left off made him an excellent agent in his own right. "The children are doing better than their parents. Most of the women have chosen to stay in the long dormatories, a few of the teenagers without parents are in the lowest deck. I've been trying to keep my eye on them. A coed crowd of parent less teenagers could give us a few issues in the year ahead."

He was terribly jovial about all of this, hands in his pockets, smile even.

"But I was wondering if I could assist you? I've been enamored by your work for a long while and I have a strong background in sampling biological material. I understand you've been working on a way to ensure the health of those exposed to radiation?"

Bruce looked surprised, though he was fairly well known in the scientific community that was still quite a niche and he hadn't expected any of the survivors to know his name, let alone have studied and appreciated his work. Wary, but flattered, he took off his glasses to polish them in order to have something to do while he thought about his answer.

"Of course I'd welcome any assistance in that area, but it's not likely to be something that can be started until we get back to the new moon. Research like that has to take a back seat to just getting everyone on board and safely transported. Right now, our only jobs have to be taking care of the people aboard."

He hoped that was diplomatic enough.

"Though we can certainly discuss it again when we are more settled."

"I hope this doesn't come across as rude, but I need something to do, Doctor Banner. We all do. That's the biggest problem right now. There is very little communication going on and that means that we are stuck waiting and wondering. How many more places will shoot at us? Is Sargeant Barnes all right? There is mostly whispering down below. And still some distrust over Captain Rogers."

Mohinder wet his lips as he tried to be more gracious to one of the men who had come to rescue them.

"Please put me to work. Alone, I am working through nothing but survivor's guilt from the hellicarrier. Watching them snatch the men and women I worked with for years out of the air as we parachuted out... I can help in your clinic. I know my way around a medical station well enough."

Bruce could understand wanting to be useful, it was why he had gone to India to help rather than disappear off the face of the earth completely back when he had been forced to flee America. He thought for a moment before gesturing Mohinder to follow him into one of the small kitchen room and grab a chair.

"It's a good idea. In fact, I think everyone needs to get to work. We can work out a list of jobs that need doing between us, and then go down to the dorms and get people assigned into small units that will work together and support one another. Almost like faux family units."

He pulled a notebook out of his pocket.

"So... medical, food distribution and preparation, childcare, cleaning, technicians?"

"I'll find out what everyone used to do or is good at doing then," Mohinder nodded. "And it might be helpful to show everyone what the planet looks like that we're going to and-" Mohinder had to stop and laugh. "You have no idea who I am. I don't blame you. Once agent Romanoff took over, it would have been difficult to remember anyone."

Mohinder stopped just outside of the medical bay, where Steve and Bucky were still laughing softly to each other, holding hands like an old married couple.

He'd never had friends like that. He'd never had friends actually. It was still nice to see.

"You and I worked together in Calcutta for three days before Agent Romanoff took over."

This was good, they could both help people on board find a new purpose and simultaneously make sure that the ship was being looked after properly. He was fired with enthusiasm, writing down various roles and only looking up when Mohinder laughingly told him that they should already know each other.

"Oh."

For some reason that made him feel ashamed, as if he should have paid more attention and not rudely forgot someone he had met for only three days.

"Sorry, everything was a little insane back then and it passed in a blur, you'll have to forgive me. I won't forget again."

"I can imagine that there won't be quite so many people left to forget," Mohinder said evenly. "And with India completely destroyed..." There wasn't the alarm in his voice that others might have. There wasn't even sadness. Mohinder tended to accept and to move on. "From what I've gathered, the Asgardians took people from all over the world, however. Perhaps there may be a few of my countrymen left after all. But it's fine, Doctor. You were working on barely no sleep during a disentery outbreak in the city slums when we last met. I'm sure you worked with quite a lot of people that looked a bit like me."

He was used to a little institutionalized racism anyway. Cambridge was filled with it.

"Let me leave you to your duties now that I have a few of my own. A pleasure to be working with you again, Doctor." His handshake was friendly and affectionate. Mohinder would be a strange one to get used to, though no stranger than Tony Stark.

Inside the medical bay, Steve kept trying to convince Bucky to sleep. "You're Swiss cheese. That earns you a break."

Bruce was a little stung at the assumption that he simply looked at all people of Mohinder's race the same way, when truthfully it was just that he had forgotten most of the people that he had seen in those few days. He frowned after Mohinder, though he returned the handshake readily enough, and stalked off with a stiff back to go and see to sorting out his side of the duties.

Back in the medical bay, Bucky had already managed to get himself to a sitting position even though it hurt like hell and Steve kept fixing him with those damn puppy eyes like he might cry.

"I can take it slow, but I'm not letting you go down onto the surface again without backup, and I'm the only one that can definitely withstand it if it proves to be radioactive. I watch your back, Steve, that's what I do."

"Do you know what I do? Keep you from being stupid. Or trying. It's a full time job. Tony has his armor, he's the one that kept you from being completely shot to pieces. He and I will take the next few settlements. There is very little radiation up in Canada."

America had given then just under two thousand survivors. They had room for about that many more. That was maybe one of the larger cities... Perhaps half of Toronto.

"We can talk about you taking up my six when we come back," Steve continued. "Or I can hit you in the head and knock you out and do what I want anyway. I learned that trick from a pretty good guy I know and it works really well."

Bucky looked like he wanted to do just that right now, punch Steve so that he couldn't go anywhere and put himself in danger where there wasn't anyone that he trusted to watch his back. Sure, Tony was better than nobody, but he was unstable and not the biggest fan of Steve, so trusting the man's safety to Tony wasn't his top priority.

He frowned, a murderous looking expression, and swung his legs over the side of the bed with a challenging sort of look. He wasn't going to be kept here.

"You're all I've got, Steve. If something happens to you, that's it for me too, so-- Just shut up and let me cover you. I've got this, I've worked through worse."

That was true, but probably not the most comforting of things to say.

“And you think that I want to put up with any more time without your dumb face making dumb faces at me?” Steve wasn’t going to let Bucky elbow his way into another situation where he got to see just how worthless carrying on without Bucky would be. Steve would absolutely carry on, but it would be meaningless. His heart would be gone. The lives of the other people, measured against Bucky’s own, fell short. And yeah, Steve knew that was wrong, but he also didn’t care.

That was the biggest problem they were facing now that they knew each had been carrying a torch for the other for entirely too long. Steve had never been happier in his life than he had been those last few days.

So he pushed Bucky back down. And he expected a fight for it too, but he really didn’t care.

“You’re going to heal up. That’s an order. We’re going to be smarter about this next time. Talk to them first before we put boots on the ground-- Buck, I will strap you down if I have to.”

Steve was the better man of the two, because Bucky wouldn't continue on without Steve, even hollow and broken. He would load himself up with as many weapons as he could get his hands on and he would take down as many of the people responsible for taking away Steve as he possibly could before one of them eventually got a lucky shot in. He wouldn't even feel guilty over it, either.

He didn't fight as he was pushed down, half because it had hurt a hell of a lot more than he expected to get up even that far, and half because he didn't really have a good argument other than 'I don't want you to'.

"Steve-- please don't do it without me. Send Tony, get Tony and Bruce to do it together if they can withstand the radiation, but don't go where I can't protect you ever again."

“You are protecting me,” Steve said, stubbornly as he sat back down now that he was sure that Bucky wasn’t going to be doing the Charleston out of the joint on him. “You’re making sure that I’m not distracted looking out for you. You’re letting me do my job. All of that is real important. We’re not going to get separated again. Let me protect you this time. You got my back the last.” Literally.

He sighed down at Bucky, at those dark blue eyes that seemed almost scared. He hated that look more than the emptiness because fear on Bucky had only ever popped out into view when one of them was on the verge of losing the other.

“But okay. Bruce and Tony. The radiation isn’t bad at all in the Pacific Northwest. It’s cold and there’s no precipitation. I think we deserve a little R and R, right?” There. Steve could be reasonable. “But you’ve got to really rest up, Barnes. I don’t want to sit around being lazy for too long, got it?”

He knew that he was being unreasonable, he knew that this wasn't fair to Steve who always put duty before everything. Bucky couldn't stop him from being who he was supposed to be, that wasn't right, and it would end up choking the life out of both of them. But just this time... just this once, he wanted to get his own way.

Relief cleared deep blue eyes and he reached out to take Steve's hand in his. Revelling in the sensation of just being able to hold hands, the feel of fingers laced with fingers and nobody yelling at them or condemning them.

"Good. I waited a hell of a long time for this, I'm not ready to give it up. But you don't have to tell Tony, he likes me better, I'll ask him as a favour."

“Story of my life, pal. Everyone likes you better,” Steve said without a hint of animosity. He hunched down a little so that he could be closer to Bucky, thumb gently brushing over the smoother skin just behind Bucky’s knuckle towards his wrist in a soothing fashion. It was surprisingly easy, all of this. There was nothing strange about how it felt, no shyness to their interaction. What, exactly, had changed? Certainly, neither of their feelings had. They could go right on being friends and add everything else to it without interruption.

And given that he had done a little more than just shout through a bullhorn the way he felt about Bucky… Well, he didn’t care now who knew or what they thought about it. Steve had never actually been one to care what anyone thought as long as he made sure he was respectful to them and got things done that needed to be done.

“I think he hates the sound of my voice.” It was sweet how clueless Steve was about the whole thing. Tony’s whole personality just clashed with Steve Rogers. There was no help for that. “I should apologize. Uh…maybe with a card.”

Bucky didn't think that Tony disliked Steve as much as he made out. He thought that he disliked how Steve made him feel about himself, highlighting all of his flaws and the shortcomings he had in being a good man. Steve was the paragon of that, a good man without being arrogant, selfless without being overly preachy, and just all round... nice. It could be galling to people who had more than a little hate for themselves.

At least Tony could reassure himself that Bucky was also a screw-up, had also killed many innocents, and could never be perfect. It's why advice from him was much more easily taken than advice from Steve.

"You can't apologise for the sound of your own voice, dummy. Just let him get over it, and leave him to me. Just, uh, maybe ask him to come and see me, I don't think I can actually get out of bed yet."

Bucky would be amazed what Steve could and had apologize for. The sound of his voice was probably a little better than it had been, considering the guy he used to be, but he could understand how his tell it like it is sort of attitude might rub someone the wrong way. He never intended to get Tony so mad at him. And he didn't understand why Tony would hold so much venom towards him instead of, say, the doppleganger of the man that facilitated his torture. It wasn't that Steve wanted Tony to hate Bruce, it was just a comparison here. They'd been through hell together. And Tony seemed to resent him for it.

Steve sighed and returned his cheek to the side of Bucky's chest, a patch that was bullet hole ridden.

"Can't get out of bed yet and you wanted to come with me to Canada? Did you expect me to wheel you down the stairs? Carry you? You could have scowled everyone into falling into a line. It really is a good thing we're sending Bruce and Tony. And I'll get him for you Buck. In an hour. Just let me stay here with you a little while."

Steve Rogers, shirking duty? That might be a first.

Bucky would have found the strength to get up and go with Steve to Canada if he'd had to, it was amazing just what he could push himself to do thanks to the Soldier training. But if he didn't have ti, then he wasn't going to, not when he hurt all over and he had Steve there to make him feel as though he would get shot fifty times more just to have this moment.

He lifted his hand and carded his fingers through blond hair gently, loving the sensation of weight as he breathed where Steve's head was. He would endure the Soldier and more for centuries just to get this. This that he thought he would never have.

"Yeah-- Yeah, an hour is fine, maybe even two, we're not gonna be there for a while."

If Steve would let him, he would try and pull him onto the little bed to hold properly.

There was no way that Bucky was getting a nearly three hundred pound muscled man larger than he was into that tiny little bed with him. So Steve just did what he could, draped wherever he safely could for Bucky's comfort. He had to admit. He liked having his hair stroked like that. And Bucky might like the way those devoted blue eyes drank him in.

Once Bucky was asleep, Steve went to find Tony, not knowing that he was also asleep. He ended up finding him tucked into this little room, curled up in a little ball, and so he did pen him a letter, short and simple, requesting his presence in the medical bay where Bucky would be waiting for him.

Groggy, Tony stared at the 'Sincerely, Your Friend Steve Rogers' signature for a long time before he pulled himself up and headed down to the infirmary with a serious case of bed head to plop in the chair still warm from the super soldier that had likely been sitting here for hours. He'd wait for Bucky to look at him before he got up the energy to scowl.

Bucky didn't sleep easily, but with Steve there and with his body in so much need of recovery, for once he slipped easily out, still holding onto Steve loosely. Luckily, he didn't wake up with the other man disentangled himself and walked away to go and find Tony.

Poor Tony would have to wait nearly an hour for Bucky to stir, groggily opening his eyes and fixing them on the engineer in the chair by his bed. A tiny smile pulled his lips up, he did actually like Tony despite everything, and he struggled to get himself into more of a seated position.

"Hey-- guess I should say thanks for saving me, huh?"

“What you owe me is an apology for all of the times you yelled at and threatened me for trying to give you a little truth,” Tony scowled, having slipped back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest, a pouty and defiant child. “I thought we were friends, Barnes. Friends kiss and tell. Unless that was the first time I saw, but I doubt it. You two have been giggling like experimenting college coeds for a few days now. I’m hurt. I’m really hurt.”

And that wasn’t a lie. Tony did feel pretty hurt about the whole thing, though poor Bucky wouldn’t have any way of fixing that. Nor should he. Tony had a lifetime of flings and crushes and loves of the moment. Bucky might have had a few flings too, but this was the first real ting he’d been allowed to have and he shouldn’t apologize for that.

“Respectfully, my friend Steve Rogers said you needed to talk to me? If you’re going to tell me that you and Cap are a thing, save it. As we have already covered, I found that out myself and I’m mad at you.”

"You don't get to be mad at me for that," replied Bucky, frowning over at Tony and setting aside what he actually wanted to talk to the other man about for now. This was poisonous, whatever had got into Tony's head, and he wasn't going to have it ruin any progress he had made.

"I spent seventy years without even knowing my own name, I spent fifteen years before that in love with someone I would have been arrested for loving and terrified in case he found out. After all that, I earned some goddamn happiness, and you're not going to make me feel bad about it."

Fuck you, Stark. He thought they were friends, or at least getting there.

"I don't know if you're resentful or jealous or just mad because you're not happy and don't think the rest of the world should be either, or mad at the Asgardians and taking it out on anyone nearby, but can it. I was gonna ask you a favour as a friend, but forget it, pal."

When Tony was on a path to self-destruction, nothing could stop him. Right now, he was angry that’d he shown up. Or that he’d waited. He wasn’t angry that he helped to save Barnes, but he was pissed off that this guy was trying to make him feel bad for some ribbing. Tony didn’t interrupt Bucky, not once. He let him get it all out. But instead of apologizing, instead of telling Bucky that he was happy he finally got to have what he wanted after all of those years, Tony just pulled himself out of the chair.

No way in hell was he doing this guy a favor, so he just walked out, leaving the seat beside Bucky empty and open. Steve was no where in sight, so Tony wasn’t able to go off on the blond (though he was looking for him to do just that) and instead found that Indian fellow and Bruce laughing it up over some chart that they were making on the wall of one of the unused rooms.

The way Tony was feeling right now wasn’t uncommon for survivors of traumas. It didn’t help that he loathed himself all ready (despite appearances) and that everyone he had ever cared for either screwed him over or ended up dead.

Right now, it seemed like everyone had someone else. Bucky was right to think it was poisonous. It was as poisonous as the palladium that nearly killed him a year back and still left scars on his veins closest to his heart.

That was probably fitting.

Tony headed back to the bridge and set the coordinates for Toronto. The skiff would be there in less than an hour thanks to Asgardian technology. He was going to overcompensate for his loneliness by being brash and rescuing Canada on his own.

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