where the skies are blue

Hannibal (2013-2015)

> it's good

> it's bad

what if steve latches onto that imperfect symmetry, and allows himself to find some comfort in it.

because this feels right.

because this is the closest he has felt to bucky since bucky's fall.

because they say that in your last moments, you see your whole life flash before your eyes, and now that steve's rushing towards certain death, all he can see is bucky. his whole life. their lives, twined together like ivy 'round a tree. bucky losing his first baby tooth and proudly showing off the new gap in his smile. bucky tugging him into a photobooth, his arm thrown around steve's shoulders, pulling steve close so they'd both fit in the frame. bucky nursing the last of his cigarette on the fire escape, his profile limned by the sunset with delicate purpose, curls of smoke pouring from his lips the way art pours from the artist's brush. the sun and the noise and the burning hot sand of rockaway beach, the taste of hot dog and soda and saltwater on bucky's lips, the smoothness of his skin under steve's hands, still cool and glistening from the ocean. bucky leaning over the sink to shave, a love song humming on his breath. a piece of dark hair on steve's comb, again - every day's the same old story, steve laughs. bucky's sleepless eyes, his hunger-bruised face the only familiar thing in an unfamiliar country, the fragile count of his ribs kissing steve's fingertips when steve slips into their tent at night, and holds bucky's war-worn body in his arms; thin, so much thinner than he used to be. the scent of bucky, the scent of home, lingering even under the dirt.

because steve doesn't mind death. really, he might as well die now -- the guilt would eat him alive from the inside like a tapeworm sucking the life out of him anyway.

because he's doing what he should have done all along. he's going after bucky. falling and falling until he can reach him, there, at the bottom of a snowy ravine. is there snow at the bottom of the ocean?

oh nothing just thinking about that time in House md when house goes “i’m type AB” and wilson IMMEDIATELY is like “of course you are. universal recipient. you take from everyone.” and then house just goes “and you’re type O. universal donor.” like?? oh okay so you’re both just going to stand there basically saying “i consume you / i let you” with your whole chests?? hello??

this is giving marriage vows disguised as hematology, its giving mutual vampirism.

House being type AB is so funny because of course he is, man really said “I’ll take and I’ll take and I’ll keep taking” and Wilson went “yeah babe that tracks, you’ve been sucking me dry for years and I let you.”

And then House, smug little bastard, spins it right back: “You’re type O.” Do you understand the violence of that? He didn’t just say you’re generous. He said you exist to be consumed. You were built to give. You bleed for everyone but you bleed best for me.