Bucky went still when Steve pulled his hand away. Not outwardly—not in any way most people would catch—but something in him stalled, like a wire had been cut mid-current. His fingers lingered where the contact had been a second too long before curling slowly into his palm, the absence sharper than it should’ve been. He didn’t understand that either.

His gaze dropped briefly, tracking the space between them like he could still feel the ghost of it. Then he forced himself to look back up, jaw tightening as he tried to hold onto what Steve was saying instead of the way it felt.

“Trust,” Bucky repeated quietly, like it was a word he hadn’t used in a long time. His brow furrowed, something conflicted flickering across his expression. “They used that word too.” A beat. “Different context.” There was no accusation in it—just fact, tangled up with something harder to shake.

He dragged a hand back through his hair, shoulders tense before they dropped again, exhaustion pulling at him from every direction. “I don’t… know how to do that,” he admitted, voice rough. “Not without a mission. Not without…” He trailed off, jaw working like the words didn’t quite exist anymore. His eyes found Steve again, searching now—less defensive, more uncertain.

“But I’m still here,” Bucky said after a moment, quieter. “I didn’t leave. I didn’t… finish it.” A faint crease formed between his brows, like he was trying to make sense of his own actions. “That has to mean something.” He shifted slightly, the movement careful, like his body was remembering pain even if his mind wasn’t cataloging it properly. Then, after a small pause—

But there was something good there, because despite everything, Steve still felt that pull toward Bucky. It seemed like Bucky was feeling it too, even if he couldn't understand why or how to put it into words. Steve could barely put it into words. They just were.

His chair scrapped across the floor to be closer. ❝Decisions can be hard even without your circumstances. You made a choice for yourself.❞ Steve tried to help him make sense of it. ❝That does mean something.❞ He only hesitated briefly before he put his hand back on Bucky's. He offered a hint of a smile, something warm and affectionate in his gaze.

❝You always looked out for me, you know.❞ Steve told him. ❝When we were kids and I got into fights with guys that were double my size, you would be there to make sure I didn't get my ass handed to me. Or you'd at least clean up my cuts after. You sat by my bedside when I was sick. Sometimes for hours.❞ He swallowed hard, like the next thing wasn't something he spoke about often. ❝When my mom died, you just ... took me in. I wasn't going to be able to afford rent on my own. I could barely get work. Hell, I think you could barely get work even though you tried to act like things were okay.❞ His gaze lifted, trying to find that person buried beneath what had been done to the man in front of him. ❝That was when you said it. You told me you were with me until the end of the line.❞

not that david counted, it was too late to do anything for poor boy.

"she's not dead." if she was lucky, he'd write her reply off as hope, but there was an amount of certainty that wouldn't be explained by that. if girl was dead, maeve would be able to feel it, she would have felt it when she first arrived.

backup would take time, would only bring more attention. the day had been full of enough messes that she didn't want to add to it - but nothing seemed like the right thing to do.

He noticed the shift in her voice too. He watched her step toward the rubble and finally pieced together what she was doing. ❝Emmy.❞ He repeated quietly.

Then everything else was making sense. By this point in his life, weird wasn’t exactly new territory. ❝Okay.❞ He said carefully, already moving with her. ❝Okay, then we keep her calm.❞

He lowered himself near the collapsed wall, raising his voice just enough to carry without sounding harsh. ❝Emmy, right? I'm Sam. If you can hear us, listen to her voice.❞ His gaze shifted briefly toward Maeve, watching the worry she was trying and failing to hide. ❝Don't think about anything else.❞

Even now, even as they walked openly side by side, thunderer found himself half-expecting the moment to dissolve like mist under morning light, yet Steve remained, solid and warm, utterly real, and the god's ribs expand on an inhale, filling with a steady, reverent awe at his own fortune.

' It is beautiful,' and the agreement comes as a soft rumble, voice touched by a sliver of pride.

' Hard-won, perhaps, but all the more precious for it.'

Gaze moves unbidden towards the other, lingering on the mortal whilst he spoke, the very act of being seen and understood in return a gift he was still learning to accept, and hold.

The jest pulls a laugh from him, bright with delight as he nods in agreement as well.

' It would be a bold tale indeed to leap straight from longing into vows without so much as a shared night together,' and another chuckle follows, shoulder brushing the mortal's lightly, a fond and playful nudge of it a deliberate act.

By then they had reached the heart of the village, and the god slowed, reluctantly releasing his hold to guide the cart to a stop near one of the waiting townsfolk, exchanging a few quiet words and a grateful nod as the wood was taken from his care. It was far from practical, at some point in the future a system would have to be created to ensure all the hearths would remain burning without the king's involvement, but for now the simple act grounded him, making him pleased at being useful.

Returning to the human the brightness within him still burned, the playfulness softening into something more earnest. Hand is eager to return to the other, entwining of fingers almost careful this time.

' So...' and it is necessary to shape words carefully, it feels right to do so as ceruleans regard the man for a moment.

After all, it was often difficult to just ... sit back and enjoy what you built.

Cheeks turned pink again, but a gentle laugh left him. He didn't have to shy away from the way that Thor nudged him. He nudged back, grinning brightly.

But he stepped back, only to allow Thor to drop the wood off. A half-done job, Steve noted. Well, there was always tomorrow and Steve would be glad to help so they could get more done the next time. It was a nice, grounding thing to do. Felt good to contribute too.

He reached for Thor's hand, gladly intertwining their fingers with a squeeze.

❝So.❞  Steve echoed, eyes moving from their hands back up to meet Thor's gaze. His gaze was warm, full of absolute adoration and a spark of something else.

His free hand moved to gently caress Thor's jaw, a heavy breath leaving him as he nodded. Both aware of himself and that they weren't quite in private yet, his hand dropped, but his smile didn't falter.

❝A meal in private would be appropriate.❞ He said, nerves bubbling up in his chest. ❝Do we clean ourselves up and I put on my best shirt?❞ He asked, a hint of a laugh in his voice but he wasn't exactly kidding. Nervous, but more serious than anything.

“Hey,” Steve added after a moment, softer now. He slowed half a step and reached out, briefly squeezing Eddie’s shoulder—steady, grounding. “Nothing’s happening to me, alright?” His voice dropped just enough to cut through the tension hanging in the air. “We’ve been through worse than this.” The reassurance came easily, the same quiet confidence he’d used a hundred times before when someone needed it.

❝I just — I feel like something is happening.❞ Eddie admitted, looking over at Steve with wide eyes. ❝Damn it, I know something is happening. Something — I think it's something bad. I can feel this place like — like when it's active or something.❞ 

But he couldn't shake the cold sweat, the piercing in his head. He put his forehead in his hand, gasping softly. The lab was in sight and he didn't want to slow them down, but he couldn't help it. When he was down there, whatever connection he had to it was heightened.

His breath picked up, and he gripped onto Steve's shirt to keep himself upright. ❝Vecna.❞

Then, there was a clear shift. He winced, sharp pain hitting him. He doubled over, dropping to the ground. He could faintly hear the others around him, Dustin saying his name and Steve. But he could feel something with this place dying. It wasn't Vecna, but he was surprised.

The food was a convenient distraction, and turning his attention toward it thunderer was grateful for the grounding simplicity of it, of only them, and the unwrapping of the meal. Taking a bite with audible satisfaction a low hum escapes him, and like many times before he thoroughly enjoys one of the few Midgardian foods that seemingly never disappointed, savoring a few smaller bites with a semi-smile on his lips.

They ate in companionable quiet for a time, the earlier tension settling into a comfortable sort of calm, yet beneath the surface heat lingered, filling him with mild wonder at how persistent it was.

A sharp chime broke through the silence, Thor's phone lighting briefly, coaxing him to reach for it.

Brows furrowed as the message was processed, a strong huff released through his nose.

' Stark,' he stated after a moment, tone carrying mild exasperation. ' He advises that we "lay low", whatever that means, for the remainder of tonight, and tomorrow besides.'

Mild confusion surfaces, and the frown remains in place.

He sighed heavily at the information, reaching for his own phone to see the same message. He eyed it, like if maybe he looked longer, it would change. But no, of course not.

❝Yep.❞ Steve echoed the sentiment.

He tossed his phone back onto the mattress next to their food. He reached for a handful of fries, eating them ungracefully as he contemplated the fact that he was going to be alone with Thor for even longer. It wasn't a bad thing. He just ... wondered when this lingering thing would pass. He thought about the fact that he might have to see Thor change clothes again and his cheeks heated up all the way to his ears.

❝We'll just have to make the most of it.❞ Steve said, like he'd thought of how exactly they'd do that. ❝Attempt to get some good sleep and see if we can't find something to do in town. Something quiet, of course. Yeah.❞ 

That was the thing when being around Daryl Dixon, sometimes it just got quiet but that didn't mean he was upset or that it was something bad. More than likely he was just in his head, something Kyleigh had learned to just happen. He was the type of person that spoke when needed or if you were really close to him, when he felt like it. So she just kept on doing what she was doing, hoping that he would find something they could cook their meal in.

Out of the corner of her she watched him search though the cabinets, the thought not lost on her that he didn't argue or put up any kind of fight about it. Just did as she had asked, something that made her heart melt a little bit. In human terms it was such a simple thing but to her it spoke volumes. Pack members did those kinds of things for each other, and again she wondered how he was feeling about all of this. Thankfully before she messed it up by speaking he found something, her eyes going fully in his direction. "Oh that's awesome, good shit!"

Anyone else probably would have just left it there, thinking that it had no real use now. But other than cooking it could be used for a couple of other things, so yeah Kyleigh was pleased. Now that the meat was well seasoned she was actually looking forward to tasting it, gently placing it into the pan so Daryl could take it to the fire. When he didn't immediately turn to do so Kyleigh's eyes went up to his face, finding that he was already looking at her. Had she gotten some seasoning on her face? Did he change his mind and want something else?

"Daryl? You alright?" Her voice was surprisingly soft when she asked even though he had finally moved, just a step back from her. She didn't think his behavior was weird, just kind of out of place for him.

The cabin was quiet except for the crackle of flames and the faint rattle of wind outside. He nodded on instinct, and because it was true. He was fine. Better than fine, really.

His eyes dropped briefly to the pan before finding her again. ❝M’alright.❞ His jaw worked once, like there was something sittin’ there he wasn’t sure how to spit out. Then he huffed out a quiet breath through his nose, almost annoyed with himself.

❝Just ain't used to this.❞ He shook his head slightly. He glanced around the cabin, then back at her. His fingers flexed against the pan handle. ❝Feels too damn normal.❞ He clarified quietly. There was no bitterness in his voice, though. If anything, it sounded almost conflicted. Like maybe he was okay with that.

His hands moved, one sliding up her spine to pull her flush against him while the other stayed firm at her waist. Every desperate, sweet kiss she gave him only pulled another quiet sound from his throat. His forehead brushed hers for a fleeting second before his mouth found hers again. Her repeated I love you made his chest ache.

Cassidy kissed her deeper again, everything he couldn’t fit into words into the way his mouth moved against hers. When he finally broke the kiss, his nose brushed against hers, lips still hovering close enough to steal another kiss at any second. His thumb stroked gently along her cheek, catching the last traces of tears there.