[AU] these are not the parts and poems of the body only, but of the soul

[from_the_outside]

They've all entered a kind of tense détente after the ill-advised dinner party. Tony throws himself into work, Sharon and Pepper mostly avoid each other, and Steve, Vision, and Nat continue with oversight duties.

And the thing is... Tony's working it out. 

Not a removal, exactly, but he's getting close, he'd told them, to at least blocking the commands. It's not perfect and it's not a permanent solution, but it's a step in the right direction. It's also a step in the direction of Tony needing to test the words on Bucky himself, and so Sharon and Steve are on extra high alert, keeping an eye out for any indication that Bucky's retreating into himself again. Sharon's mostly moved into the room they share in Steve's apartment for that very reason, though she still isn't wholly comfortable with being in Steve's space all the time.

He's away today, working with Sam and Rhodey on a veteran's outreach program, so it's Sharon who walks with Bucky through the halls of the compound towards Tony's rooms. "It's you and Vision with Tony today," she tells him, and glances across the distance they're careful to maintain when not alone behind closed doors.

"How are you feeling about everything?"

Comments

[marvel_npc]

"Weird's okay," Tony says. "We like weird. Okay, FRIDAY, keep it up. Ba – uh, Bucky, how about a little mental math? Multiplication tables. Start with, uh... four. Four times one – "

It'll keep Barnes's brain distracted, and let him keep an eye on normal functions as they go.

"Forty percent," reports FRIDAY.

[nerves_of_ice]

"Don't people have to memorize those in school any more?" he asks, frowning a little. "Four, eight, twelve, sixteen, twenty, twenty-four, twenty-eight, thirty-two--"

It doesn't appear he has to even think much about it.

[marvel_npc]

"Smart guy, huh?"

Tony's eyes are locked on the digital projection as he makes quick adjustments. "Okay. Know any songs? Poems? Give us a recital."

Another touchpoint glows green, and a small chime sounds. "Fifty percent," FRIDAY reports, perfectly calm.

[nerves_of_ice]

"Not really. It's just pattern recognition," he observes, eyes still closed.

"You remind me of Mrs. Perkins. English teacher. She was big on the classics. 'In Xanadu did Kubla Khan,'" he recites. "'A stately pleasure-dome decree: Where Alph, the sacred river, ran / Through caverns measureless to man / Down to a sunless sea.' That kind of thing. Wasn't until later I ran across Wilfred Owen."

[marvel_npc]

"Xanadu," Tony muses. "Isn't that a musical? Pleasure-dome, though. That sounds pretty good."

Everything's looking good, but he's not going to celebrate yet, not when there's still just shy of halfway to go. "Wilfred Owen, huh? Who's that?"

"Sixty percent," FRIDAY says, pleasant.

[nerves_of_ice]

"Supposedly Coleridge wrote it while high on opium, so sure, why not," he drawls. "Owen was a soldier. First World War. He died the year after I was born."

[marvel_npc]

"Opium, huh?" His tone is conversational, but his eyes are locked on the program's progress. "Tried it. Wasn't my thing."

He'd hated the dull, disconnectedness of it. If he's going to kill himself with a drug, it's going to be alcohol. "And he was a poet? And a soldier?"

"Seventy percent," Friday tells them.

[nerves_of_ice]

"Uh-huh," Bucky murmurs. He's frowning now, more than before, brow furrowed and voice growing absent, a little distant.

"Both. He was both, until the war took him. It does that. Never to come home again, or not as you were. 'What candles may be held to speed them all? / Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes / Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes--'"

His back arches, sharp and sudden, and his head slams back against the rest as images flare sudden and sharp in his mind. You're my friend, Steve tells him. I'm with you till the end of the line. Seeing Sharon's worried face in Siberia. Steve's face, the feel of his friend's hand. The smell of cool mountain air and green trees.

He groans aloud, the sound of a man who's just taken a blow to the gut, but doesn't move.

[marvel_npc]

"Barnes!" Tony says, sharply, his fingers hovering over the kill switch. Vision stays on alert, but doesn't move to remove the diodes.

The problem with the touchpoints – the reason they work at all – is that they aren't just connected to words, but to memories. Emotions. It's all tied together into a horrible net that he can't even begin to unpick yet.

"Eighty percent, boss," FRIDAY murmurs. "Holding steady."

"Hang on," he tells her, and raises his voice. "Barnes, you good? Talk to me. Tell me what's happening."

[nerves_of_ice]

"I'm okay. I think," he says, carefully. "I'm not - I'm not going to lose them, am I? I'm not--"

He tries focusing on the images that have flashed, and others. An apartment in Brooklyn. One in Paris. One in Berlin that he's never seen inside. A mountain house. Shared laughter, shared experiences, shared--

"I can still remember them," he says, after a moment. "It was just. A flood, there, for a second."

[marvel_npc]

"You're not going to lose anything," Tony says, even though he knows it's not a promise he should make.

"We're blocking the commands from accessing those memories and emotions. Just focus on them. Take a beat. Tell me when you're ready. We're close, Ba – Bucky. Almost there."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Almost there," he mutters, half to himself, thinking over each image and trying to make sure they're all clear and bright. "Almost there. Okay. Okay. Keep going."

[marvel_npc]

"FRIDAY," he says, and the program beings running smoothly once more.

"So this poet. A favorite? What else do you like to read?"

[nerves_of_ice]

Asking about his preferences makes the question a little difficult, although he's pretty sure Tony doesn't realize it.

"I'll read whatever, usually," he says, after a moment to think it over. "Essays. History stuff. Science fiction."

[marvel_npc]

"Sci fi," Tony says. "Some good stuff in there. The Time Machine? Classic. War of the Worlds. Got some stuff wrong about our first alien invasion, but what can you do. FRIDAY?"

"Ninety percent, boss," the AI reports.

[nerves_of_ice]

"I'd have thought you'd say Asimov, given the robot thing," he murmurs, as a shudder runs through him along with the shock of memory - a train, a high mountain pass, fear and relief and horror and a long, long fall. This time, knowing the reason, he manages to keep his physical reactions controlled.

[marvel_npc]

"Yeah, well, I've kinda sworn off robots for a while. You don't count," he tells Dummy, waiting in the corner and holding Tony's jacket for him. "Those were intelligent robots." The robot hangs its gripping arm, like a human would hang their head, with a metallic sigh.

In front of him, the digital image glows green. "One hundred percent, boss," FRIDAY relays. "Program 'Patrick Roy' fully deployed."

"Oh, well done," Vision says, as Tony claps his hands together and rubs them.

"Not out of the woods yet." But god, it's a step in the right direction. He looks at the image, the green light shielding the touchpoints, and blows out a breath. "How's your head?"

[nerves_of_ice]

Bucky opens his eyes, blinking slowly, and looks up at Tony, Vision, and the digital image hanging in the air.

"It doesn't hurt," he says. "Feels weird, a little, like needles-and-pins weird, but that's fading."

[marvel_npc]

"Think back on the stuff you were just remembering," Tony says. "See if it makes you feel strange at all. Tell me if anything isn't as clear as it should be."

[nerves_of_ice]

He nods, and makes himself concentrate, the faintest crease appearing on his brow as he focuses. Bucky tries to recall every detail, every nuance, every feeling, careful and deliberate.

After a couple of minutes, he looks up. "None of it - it's not lost. I can remember it. All of it. I don't think it feels strange? I'm not sure how it would feel if it were."

[marvel_npc]

"Is it harder to remember?" Tony asks, watching the digital projection. Everything looks good, but...

"Anything murky? Feel like there's something tickling the back of your brain you can't quite remember?"

[nerves_of_ice]

"Not any more than usual," Bucky tells him.

[marvel_npc]

"Okay." Tony takes a step back and drives both hands into his hair, tugging at it. "Vision, get in here. Double check everything. And I mean everything. It all looks good, but we can't take any chances."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Of course," Vision says, courteously, and goes still with intent focus as he studies the display and all of the data readouts and files with the full force of his unique analytic capability.

Bucky stays still as well, barely breathing, waiting in silence while Vision works.

"I have not located anything amiss," Vision reports, finally. "All appears to be operating as expected, with no anomalies in the data recorded."

[marvel_npc]

Tony blows out a breath and scrubs a hand over his face. It's good news – it's great news – but it means they're careening toward the thing he's been dreading ever since they started this project.

"Okay," he says, again, and stares at Barnes, no idea how haunted and haggard the look in his own eyes is. "Look. You know what's next. How we've got to... test it. But we can take a break. Give it some space. Come back to it whenever you're – later."