captain_rogers: (023)
Capt. Steve Rogers ([personal profile] captain_rogers) wrote in [community profile] all_inclusive2014-04-01 11:15 pm

In the last week before the world changed

How many hours he had spent exploring the halls and grounds of the Nexus Hotel, Steve was pretty certain he'd lost track. It surprised him to find that he was not climbing the proverbial (or literal) walls with so much time without a mission, although that might have been largely in part to do with Bucky's presence and what he recognized as a half-masochistic desire to take all the time he could with the other man without spilling the beans. Since their days in the orphanage and their meeting in one of the many Brooklyn back alleys he'd been getting beat up in, all until the war, there hadn't been a day he hadn't been sure what Bucky was up to or where Bucky was.

The war had changed that in ways Steve had never anticipated. What had come after had only driven him further apart from those nostalgia-colored memories of a childhood that was, in retrospect, far from grand.

Despite his promise to his friend that he could hitch a ride back with him, if only he could find his door, Steve had avoided much of investigating the many doors of the hotel as he worked out whether or not such a thing were even possible. That he actually wished for a moment that Stark was there to babble at him in his science-speak about dimensions or temporal paradox or whatever else might have been on the menu was a fact he thought he'd best keep to himself. Best forget entirely before he had to think on that for too long.

Instead he had toured the art gallery more than a dozen times, poked around the library, devoted early mornings and late nights when he was unable to sleep in the basement gym. In between times he unnerved the staff at the bistro with the amount of food he could pack away in a sitting, and how many times a day he could come back for a refill and still have that vaguely hungry feeling gnawing at his belly. Just then, with something unsettling and all too vague itching at the back of his neck and weighing at his shoulders, he buried himself in the cheap sketchbook and pencil he'd picked up in the hotel shop, sitting with his back against the wall of the lobby as he idly sketched bits and pieces of the people who passed through on their way to one place or another.
legendthatwas: brightly coloured Martha Jones icon (text: hello martha) (Default)

[personal profile] legendthatwas 2014-04-13 09:45 pm (UTC)(link)
Martha couldn't help but display just a tinge of the bright smile that threatened to burst forth and spread across her face, her-Doctor-like, with pleasure, at the expression of wonder on Steve's face. She'd picked up more than a few traits of her travelling companion along the way, though it was only maybe now that she'd met his latest incarnation, admitted that her Doctor was the past, that she was willing to admit it.

"It's been a while since I was called a dame," she said, and that grin shone through a little more. "But from you I'll definitely take it as a compliment, Steve Rogers." She extended a hand to shake his. "I've found out that it's always good to have help, no matter how good you think you are."