I'll follow behind you on rainbow road

[paragon]

Who: CAPTAIN AMERICA WANTS YOU
Where: The Baromanogerneson Residence (i.e., 5031)
When: May 9th
What: Mario Kart and subversion, two great tastes that taste great together.
Warnings: Please warn in subjects as needed!
[Open]

The thought had formed pretty much as soon as he'd opened the box that was left on the front porch. The people here need a way to talk. There are two rooms in the house where they would be free to do so. He'd come home one day — not long after the body had disappeared from the upstairs bathroom and all the cameras he'd ripped from their wiring between there and the garage had been put back in place in their absence with a friendly maintenance note left behind that all fixtures in need of repair had been seen to, along with a bill for the expenses — to find Natasha sitting on the bed, writing a note in Sharpie. He'd leaned against the door frame and watched her hold it up to the cameras and make a deal: Steve wouldn't break any more cameras, if they give them the privacy of their bedrooms. As there had only been the three of them at the time (despite the insistence in his head that the house has always been filled by his teammates, just as he remembers of the last few years before Wayward Pines), that had meant the master bedroom downstairs, and Bucky's upstairs.

It had actually worked, though Steve wouldn't have trusted the word of whoever's behind the cameras himself if it weren't for Natasha's daily inspections, and so far the deal's held.

But it's not — can't be — a luxury only afforded to them, for their own sakes. He's told others here and there, and he knows his friends have, too. It's not enough, but nor does he have a way to get people over without arousing suspicion. But then there's the Nintendo system. A little unorthodox, as far as his own methods go, but he'll work with anything he has.

He doesn't put it down anywhere in writing, letting news of the party travel by word of mouth and hoping that's enough to keep it out of the wrong ears. At least for now. There's a chance — a good chance — that it will eventually get the Sheriff's attention, but by then it will have had the effect it's supposed to and given the people here the chance to speak to each other truthfully. And if that comes down on anyone, it's gonna be the people prepared to deal with it.

The day of the ninth is a rainy one, a good day to stay inside and play games with friends. It also provides a good excuse to use the master bedroom just off the end of the foyer as a temporary coat room. Straight ahead in the living room, Mario Kart is all ready to go, and in the kitchen next to that, snack food and drinks are available.

((ooc: THIS IS A MINGLE POST. While I will be tagging around with Steve a bit, this is mostly to give people a chance to chat with each other without the cameras watching. Per Natasha's deal with the powers that be, the cameras in the master bedroom and Bucky's room upstairs have been removed. Natasha will be greeting people at the door and taking them on a "tour" (i.e., to the master bedroom to explain the camera situation, why the party's really happening, and that they are not to discuss the lack of cameras while elsewhere in the house). Feel free to wander in there any time for a chat, or simply enjoy some Mario Kart and refreshments! Commenting around is encouraged, and please note in your top-levels whether they're open or closed. If you have any questions for me I can be found on plurk (jeeps) or discord (jeeps#9644).))

Comments

[coy]

Shut up, [ she says quickly, instinctively, like a little sister would to her big brother. She looks up at him, suddenly sheepish as she laughs, her hands stilling and then laying flat on the counter] Sorry, old habits die hard. [ Whether that's the obsessive organization or the fact that she just told him to shut up when he teased her, your guess is as good as mine.

She hadn't wanted to stay on the edges, honestly. But she was trying to force herself to accept this new place, to not get lost in the fake emotions of being a part of a family that wasn't hers, of having a brother (something she'd always longed for). And well, it had been a bit for his sake, considering what she was. She wasn't sure if she could lie to him for much longer, given that their shared, false memories gave him the edge to be able to tell when she was keeping something from him.

Caroline just didn't know how to say it, how to explain it, without him freaking out and disowning her. If her own mother had done it, if her own father had tortured her because of it, what would a fake!brother do?

Welp, there was always compulsion even if the idea sickened her.]

But if you want my opinion, I do think the room would flow better if the couch was on the other wall-- [ She's teasing him now, giving his side a gentle jab of the elbow.]

[paragon]

[ The jab doesn't do much to budge him at all, but there's still a smile lingering at the corners of his mouth from her response. It's familiar, and this time not just because of a shared history that he can't really trust, but because all of the people he's loved the most in his life have been the ones not afraid to give him a hard time. Who have let him give it back in kind.

Whatever the foundation for it, it feels honest and real, and he shakes his head slightly — she doesn't have to apologize for it.

Which doesn't mean it puts him off of the reason for the teasing in the first place, but they can get to that. ] I always want your opinion. [ It's only his earnestness that interrupts her, matter-of-fact and unapologetic. His expression doesn't change much, but Steve possesses an inordinate amount of focus, and right now she can see that it's for her if she looks for it. ]

[coy]

[ There's a fair amount of nerves that rise up when he looks at her like that, mostly because she's been putting off telling him something pretty damn big. It's now or never. And it's never going to be a good time to tell him that his not!sister drinks blood to survive and is undead.

She doesn't want to lose him but she's pretty sure she might and she's already fretting about the fact that she might have to compel him to forget she'd said anything at all... ]

Don't worry, I'm not afraid to give it, like ever-- [ As she's speaking, she reaches for a chip and dips it into the salsa, putting way too much for one chip. And when she brings it to her mouth to eat, a huge glob of salsa plops onto the front of her sweater.

She knows that he's quick enough, smart enough to see that she'd done it on purpose. Caroline was always careful when it comes to her clothes and she's pretty damn graceful, so to be as clumsy as to spill on herself... ]

Dammit-- [ She says it convincingly, at least she hopes it's convincing enough for the cameras, reaching for the paper towels to try and wipe at the salsa that was starting to stain her sweater.]

Hey, can I throw this in the wash? Maybe borrow a shirt from upstairs? [ She can't ask for the tour because she's already been on it and well, she's given one to Poe earlier. But it's clear what she wants is to get Steve upstairs in one of the rooms upstairs so she can talk to him.]

[paragon]

You don't wanna borrow any of Bucky's shirts. [ Given that Bucky's is the only room upstairs without cameras, and most of his shirts bear the names of bands neither of them know the first thing about (and are happy to keep it that way).

Still, that comment's mostly for the cameras too. He's quicker than she knows — reflexes fast enough to have stopped the salsa from falling on her, at least, and he'd stopped himself before he could do just that. ] I'm sure Nat won't mind letting you borrow something.

[ Never mind that she most definitely had minded, the last time he'd let someone at her wardrobe. He nods Caroline in the direction of the hallway, pushing himself off of the counter and past the living room where the game is being played. At the end of the hall he closes the bedroom door behind them and continues into the master bathroom. ] You can soak it in some cold water.

[ He assumes she really does want to try to keep the stain from setting, and he knows a little something about that himself. The life skill of a guy who'd once had only a couple shirts to his name and a propensity for getting beaten up while wearing them. Steve walks in and gives her the space in front of the sink, standing to the side of the counter and facing her. ] It's safe in here too. What's goin' on?

[ He hadn't missed her nerves before. ]

[coy]

[ The only reason she'd suggested upstairs was because, well, earlier, she'd been in the other room without cameras with Poe and that was awkward.

But she doesn't resist him when he suggests that they go to get something of Nat's. After all, it made more sense for her to wear a woman's blouse, even if Caroline had almost 5 inches on Natasha.

Either way, she follows and by the time they get into the room with the door closed, she's so worked up in her nerves, she blinks at him blankly when he talks about soaking the sweater in cold water.] What? Oh, yeah. Right.

[ It's no surprise that he caught her nerves, she wasn't always the best actress and she was a lousy liar when her life didn't depend on it. She's suddenly thankful she has something to distract herself with, moving to pull the sweater off (she's got a tank top on beneath it) and set it in the sink, turning on the cold water.

Her eyes stay on sweater for a moment as she tries to gather her thoughts and nerves and courage.] I... guess it's obvious that I needed to tell you something. [ Her hands start to tremble as a memory of Matt floods into her mind, Please make me forget, Caroline. I don't want to look at you and see what I'm seeing right now. It's painful and her brow furrows hard.]

Back home... I'm... [ She looks at him briefly through the mirror before looking back down, rubbing at the stain vigorously now.] I died back home. That's the easiest way to explain it. [ She pauses and shakes her head.] No, it's not. The easiest way to explain it is... to show you.

[ She looks at him then, rubbing her hands off at her sides and turning to face him. She probably looks exhausted but she thinks if he just sees it. ] Take my hands and close your eyes. And just... relax.

[paragon]

[ He'd think the furrowed lines on her brow were a family trait if he didn't know better, and he's pretty sure they're there on his own face regardless. He can only guess, because he's looking at her, not her reflection — or his own as a result — even if she won't look directly at him. He's not afraid of what she has to tell him, and he's not sure if that's because of how much he's seen or because he already cares for her so much that he doesn't think it can matter. Probably both. The shared expression is only there because he doesn't like to think of her dying, not because he's feeling any of the same nerves.

All the better to be the solid, steady presence before her when she does face him, though that's less intentional than something set in his bones. Consciously, Steve's just grateful for the excuse to lift his hands to grasp hers and give them a squeeze to still their shaking. ] Okay.

[ He holds her gaze for another moment before closing his eyes. Relaxing isn't his strong suit, but he can certainly be still and focused, if it's all the same. ]

[coy]

[ Still and focused will work just fine for this. She takes his hands when he lets her and she tries to relax and just show him the basics. There's no need to force him into her drama. She shows him her death at the hands of Katherine, except from her own point of view. He'll feel her confusion and terror, he'll recognize the name of the Salvatores and perhaps even the face of Caroline's Pines!best friend Elena except the name is Katherine, which is Elena's Pines!twin sister.

Then she shows him her struggle with coming to terms with the fact that she's a.... vampire. The words echo through the memory before she eases them out of the memory. Small doses are best, especially considering she isn't sure if she can control her mind from wandering into the worse memories (and not all of them are back yet).

She keeps her hands in his for a hopeful moment before she lets go of them, in case he wants to recoil in horror at what she is. Because she knows he has to know what a vampire is and what that means, for the most part. ]

[paragon]

[ Steve knows what blood tastes like. God knows he's had his own in his mouth more times than he can count, and some people (Bucky) might even accuse him of liking it. But this is . . . something else, even if for the moment it's the only real comparison he has to make with anything he's experienced.

Hunger is sure as hell familiar, too, a gnawing pain in the gut that can drive men to do worse things than steal a blood bag. But he doesn't know if she's done worse, so it's not his absolution to make, in the end. It's not what he chooses to focus on. He lets her let go, because that's her choice to make. But he doesn't recoil or even really pull away, just lets his hands lower back down to his sides. ]

Katherine. [ If anything, Steve's only frowning harder now, with things to consider other than Caroline's nerves. The expression isn't for her, though. ] She's here. [ This he knows well enough for himself; he's seen her around town, remembered that she's not a woman who likes to take no for an answer. ] Will she try to hurt you again?

[ He's got no idea if he can take a— vampire, but hey, that's never stopped him before. ]

[coy]

[ Her arms wrap around herself, a form of self-soothing she's done since... well, always. She watches his face for a moment before he speaks, trying to get a read on how he's feeling, on what he's seen. Her jaw works tightly for a moment before his question throws her off.

He doesn't react the way she thought he might and yet there's a voice in her heart that tells her that she shouldn't be surprised. He reacted the way family should react and while her mother hadn't reacted that way, that was because her mother was raised to fear and hate the thing she'd become. And even then, she'd come around in the end.

Her heart flutters and she shakes her head at what he asks.] No. Even if she could hurt me, she wouldn't dare try. [ The Salvatores would see to that. However, she looks at him, her brow furrowing.] Are you... okay... with.... all of that?

[paragon]

[ She doesn't really know him. Steve has to remind himself of that sometimes — he's not really her brother, they didn't grow up together. If they had, he hopes she wouldn't need to ask.

But it's not about him. And maybe he owes her a little more of himself than lies, however determined he is to make something real and good out of them. It's why they're here, right now, in this house. None of these revelations are supposed to be easy, and there's a very basic, selfish reason he keeps these things so close to the chest: it's hard for him not to, it's hard to lay it all out for someone else and hope it's enough to counter what they think they already know.

He breathes through his nose at her question, leaning back against the sink, his own arms crossing in front of his chest. ] You remember what I was like as a kid, the asthma and all? [ Shorthand for a much poorer constitution than one ailment could've accounted for. ] That was real. My mother got hit with the Spanish Flu in 1917, and I was born a few months too early the year after that.

[ He doesn't look at Caroline for her reaction; that's not the end or the point. ]

Which meant that when I grew up and there was a war, no one wanted to let me fight it. Hard to defend the little guy when you are the little guy, I guess. But it was the right thing to do, and I didn't think I had anything to lose. So . . . I kept tryin', the Army kept saying no.

[ He gives her a shrug that's really just the barest shift of his shoulders. ]

Eventually I met Dr. Erskine in one of the recruitment centers. He had a serum for a program that was supposed to create an army of supersoldiers for the Allies. [ He doesn't give it the appropriate wry inflection, even though he knows how it sounds. Hokey, even to people who know the story. But it's his story, and he can't bring himself to do that disservice to anyone else who lived it, too. ] In the end he died, and I was the only one. But I fought the war, and it turned out I had a lot to lose.

[ Steve looks at her, tries to give her a smile. Maybe it's just to keep unconsciously protecting himself when he lowers his arms to rest his palms against the sink counter, but even if that's the case he doesn't look away from her again. ]

Ever since then I've been trying to get as much of it back as I can. If you tell me that means you, that's all I need to know.

[coy]

[ Caroline remembered Steve growing up. Or thought she did. He wasn't the man-shaped wall of muscle that he is today, she vaguely remembers that he was sick a lot and small but she couldn't explain the gap in that Steve and the one who stands before her now. Not that it mattered, those memories were false and were not his real story.

No, he's telling it to her now. He stands before her, as vulnerable as she'd been a few moments earlier. She watches his face, senses the way those words expose him. And despite the fact that it sounds a bit ludicrous, she knows it can't sound any more crazy than her own story and... in a way, it makes sense, if she connects a bunch of the dots.

She has questions but she keeps them to herself for a moment because he asks something of her and it's important. He needs to know if she's one those things, those things he holds dear and one of those things he might lose. And she gives him a soft smile, moving to hug him then, like a sister might do for her brother when he was sad or just... needed a hug.]

I wouldn't have told you what I just did if you weren't important to me. [ It's surreal to feel this deeply for someone who should feel more like a new friend but... she feels it and she cares about him like he is the brother she never had.]