PSL Containment

[telepathicignorance]

Just a place to put any PSLs.

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AU Starter for Bucky

[telepathicignorance]

The dumpster isn't where it should be, there's no business using or paying for it here, most of the buildings are abandoned. And yet, it's not nearly dilapidated enough to be abandoned: it looks it, sure, but anyone with a trained eye can see that that's just window dressing. There's also the way it seems to be mostly obscured from view, hidden in a spot uninviting even to the squatters.

It's absolutely too perfect in its isolation to be anything but deliberate.

Approaching it is safe enough. So is opening it. Bucky will even find a nice "reward" waiting inside: someone has been using it as a shelter and there's a nest of blankets, some clothes (too small for Bucky), and a stash of packaged sweets. Sticky buns, cosmic brownies, twinkies, cans of soda... someone apparently has a sugar craving. Not that the someone in question appears to be there.

No, the moment they sensed someone approaching they scaled the wall of the half ruined building behind their makeshift shelter, hiding inside a busted second story window.

[worthallthis]

The Asset is no longer the Asset. Not exactly. He failed his mission. He hasn't returned to base. He hasn't been debriefed. He hasn't had maintenance. He's been sneaking through the back streets and suburbs of DC. He's thrown stolen clothes on over his tac gear, but he still looks kind of homeless and suspicious and probably a little out of his head. He might, in fact, be a little out of his head. He doesn't know what else he is.

What he is, at the moment, is hurting and empty and afraid. The bleeding stopped, but something inside still grinds painfully, and there's a pounding in his head and a hollow feeling in his stomach. That's all temporary. He hopes. The uncertainty about what to do and where to go now doesn't feel temporary.

The clearly not abandoned dumpster catches his eye, and for a moment his shaken brain says "safe". He creeps towards it, listening closely for any sound inside, then when he determines it must be empty, lifts the lid to peer inside.

[telepathicignorance]

Fuck.

The dumpster is, as stated before, clean and well stocked with blankets, (too small) clothing, and sweets, but otherwise empty.

The occupant watches from above in silent panic as the asset himself proceeds to raid their hideout. How did HYDRA find them? Did they make a mistake when they chose to stay here for more than a night? To have a more permanent hideaway?

Fuck.

They duck out of sight, reaching out with their mind to see if they pick up anything from his thoughts.

[worthallthis]

What's in his mind is... a jumbled mess, really. It's clear he's not here on any kind of orders. It's clear he has spent the past few days desperately avoiding any kind of orders. It's clear, too, that without those orders he's adrift and confused. Not much else is clear at all, not even how he's actually feeling.

Finding the dumpster empty, after all, he just stares in it for a moment, then reaches in for one of those sweets. He sniffs it cautiously, tweaks the wrapping, then puts it back. Edible but not fulfilling. Not enough calories. Not that he's really sure what "enough calories" entails, exactly, but it's not that.

He steps back, looking around warily. Whoever is staying here isn't here, and probably wouldn't want him here when they return. They might attack him, and he would have to kill them. He... doesn't want that. He thinks. Maybe. Wanting is confusing.

[telepathicignorance]

...What?

That's not ...that doesn't feel like he's looking for them. It doesn't feel like he's looking for anything.

What it does feel like is the way they felt when they first escaped.

He picks up a sweet and they grit their teeth to avoid snarling. Figures the asset would be a bread thei-no he's putting it back. Curious? They wonder if he's ever seen snack cakes before. Had to have. He's Human-

CRACK!

At some point, they'd gone back to staring down at him from the window. At some point, they'd stopped noticing as they leaned further and further out. And now something has broken under their hand-

"Ah!" And they come falling out with a shriek.

"Oww..." It's a piteous sound: two stories is easily survivable but it's still a bit of a fall.

[worthallthis]

At the sound of the crack above, the asset leaps back, knives appearing in both hands from their hiding places in his clothes. He might not want to kill anyone (maybe) but he will if he has to.

Except the person who lunged out of the window above isn't attacking. They're just laying there. A normal human falling two stories out of a window is unlikely to be in any condition to be attacking, he thinks. The knives stay in his hands anyway, and he doesn't approach. He doesn't flee, either, though. Something about that person is... familiar?

[telepathicignorance]

There are, in fact, people who can jump two stories and keep moving. Those are planned jumps though, by people who know what they're doing.

"Fuck."

They did not plan this fall, though they did at least manage to avoid hitting their head. They roll over, clutching their arm (it's not noticeably broken, but it's entirely possible that they've got a small fracture)... and that's when they make eye contact with the asset and freeze.

Shit. Fuck.

[worthallthis]

Eye contacts lasts for a couple seconds before the asset is backing up another step, eyes unfocusing and sliding just to the left side of their face, instead. He isn't being attacked. That means he doesn't have to kill them. Right?

Why do they look familiar? Former handler maybe...?

If that's the case, he really needs to leave, but he's not sure that's the case. This person isn't really acting like a handler. There's no barking orders or threatening with guns or shock batons.

[telepathicignorance]

"No!" They catch that thought and immediately need to correct it, it's so inherently offensive to them.

"Not... a handler." Well, them responding to his thoughts might at least give them some clue as to what they are. Telepathy is a valued trait among Hydra's new artificially created infiltration units.

[worthallthis]

That gets them a startled twitch, and the knives coming back up in alarm. He hadn't said that out loud. Had he?

No-- wait, there was another project. He remembers. New assets. He doesn't know if he's worked with them before. He can't remember that much.

But he is also pretty sure this particular asset isn't on mission. They fell out of a window, for Chrissakes. And he thinks that dumpster might be theirs. It would make sense.

The knives finally comes all the way down again, hands at his sides. Maybe they're not a threat after all. But he doesn't know what else this asset might be, instead.

[telepathicignorance]

"You ...ran away? From them." They practically spit the last word, the venom clear even beneath the pain.

They try to move, to sit up. Their pain gate makes it possible but--fuck! They grit their teeth at the twinge of pain that rockets up their arm even as they manage a sitting position.

[worthallthis]

He flinches, too, at the question, the vitriol, the clear pain, all of it. "I failed my mission," he says uncertainly. "Going back was. Ill advised." Then he might be made to try and complete the mission again. He doesn't want that. That want is firm, not wavering. He does not want to hit that target again.

It's still uncomfortable, but it is not something he will give up on either. So here he is, orderless, not entirely sure how to get by in a world he doesn't really remember much about.

"Are you injured," he finally asks. Because they fell out of a window and that looks like pain.

[telepathicignorance]

"Probably best."

They look at the Asset cautiously. He's the asset, and that's probably bad if they want to stay hidden. Can't imagine Hydra not looking for him. But helping him is the right thing to do. What a hero would do.

...They want to be a hero, right?

"Broke my arm, I think. You got anywhere to go?" They doubt he does.