》to put the fire out so they don't attract attention with the chimney smoke. Hopefully the basement can hold warmth long enough for them to rest at least.
The Soldier finds his head resting on his knees, just barely peering over them towards Steve, then to his injured leg.
"Sleep..." he says more as a command than a suggestion. And jot one for himself. He's letting the stove warm the area, but soon enough he will need》
steve almost mirrors logan’s expression, a pained grimace twisting his features. he gingerly lays a hand on logan’s shoulder.
“i know, buddy,” he says softly. “i wish… i wish i could help you put it back together.”
》it again, voice wavering, head resting into his hands. He's terrified. That he's made a mistake, that he's going to get them both killed, that his memories aren't even real—that this is just doomed. That he himself doomed them.
"All... all pieces... all broken..."
He tries not to flinch back at the edge fo frustration in his voice, but he can't help it. Authoritive as he is, his brain is trained to submit to it. Even though Steve was his mission just hours ago.
Logan looks visibly pained, the heal of his hand hitting his head 》
》again, "I... /can't/... remember..." he tried to explain, as if that's the point of it. That the pieces he has doesn't line up. That it just doesn't make sense.
He huffs, hard, sliding down the wall next to Steve and folding in on himself. "I... can't remember..." he says》
He can hear Steve's heart pick up, how his scent changes, how heat flushes his skin. That seemed to get him riled in some way.
Still, his answer isn't good enough—Logan curls his lips, shrinks his nose, and says the word again, "/Liar/..." as he shriveled back 》
steve presses back into the concrete wall, his breath quickening a bit as logan crowds his space. he flinches a bit as their soldiers gloves touch his lips, mostly out of surprise.
𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴.
》toward a crouched, gargoyle position. He looks displeased, more than that he's frustrated. There's something Steve is holding back.
He huffs, shaking his head and moving to poke the fire in the stove, throwing in another piece of flimsy wood. He needs to keep them 》
》words together, brow pulled in tight, eyes searching within Steve's. His hand comes up, two gloves fingers ghosting over Steve's lip, "I... kissed..." he seems sad to say it, like he's mourning the thought. Trying hard fo make sense of it. "Why...?"
He seems to still at that, eyes tracking over to Steve, slow, like he's trying to examine him. Take in every part. Remember something else.
Eyes fall on Steve's lips again—that being the most forefront memory. Which only frustrates him, internally. Still, he turns, almost》
steve watches the emotions shift and move across logan’s face, unmoving as he moves to sit beside him. their shoulders brushing makes him shiver a bit, his nerves still feeling a little fried.
》hovering over Steve, getting right into his face and inhaling through his nose. Studying his scent. It seems to calm the man, a fist resting between his legs against the floor to balance as he near smothers the old Captain.
"I... want.. to remember," he pieces the 》
It was starting to click. He—he is Logan. Not just the soldier. Logan.
Yes—/Logan/.
He seems shaken by that. Sitting back on the floor with a subtle thunk. He sniffs, seeming a little distraught at Steve's words, at the things rushing him.
He wants—held.》
steve only watches at first. back pressed again the cold concrete wall, wide, watery eyes just staring back and logan.
he swallows a few times, but eventually nods a few times.
“logan,” he whispers shakily, pointing a trembling, bloody finger at the soldier.
》Such a foreign unwelcome feeling, something he's been so denied. He looks at the floor, tears streaming with a wide eyed, nose flaring expression. Something about it all resonates in a way he can't quite place.
For now, he sits close to Steve, shifting so they're 》
》as if it wasn't obvious, but the emotion seems to bring out that ache again, and once more the soldier feels the urge to touch him and doesn't. Conditioning training him yo do otherwise.
...Logan.
There's that name again.
At first it registered as nothing. Just a word against the grain of his mind.
But now...
It's pulling something out. He knows what it all means, can comprehend that at the least. But that name—
—it's his name, isn't it?》
“i’m sorry,” steve says softly, wringing his hands in his lap.
his throat and jaw shift as he tries to find something better, a stronger sentiment, something that would actually help, maybe bring the soldier some comfort. it’s obvious he’d been denied that for a long time.
》toes and one fist, the one hand hovering in the air as if he could touch Steve and understand.
"...Logan?" He says it slowly, hand coming to his chest in a fist, tapping. His voice is even quieter. He leans in closer, inches from Steve's face, "You... cry..." 》
He couldn't calm himself at first, so frustrated by the lack of memories, bu the press of fragments against his mind. Even as Steve carries on, it only seems to twist his face into confusion, a hand clutching at his chest while his eyes look wild.
Nee fragments invade him,》
》something under there, something that the soldier can feel instantly. That he's felt since this began. That ache—
He slumps against the wall, clutching his fists to his chest, halfway to a ball. Trying to gain some sense of security.
"Friends..." he mumbles, like 》