milliways_bar | (no subject)

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[Not-quite-OOM, just prior: Physical therapy.]

"One more" turns into three more exercises by the time Gaeta departs the infirmary. Awful as he felt, it didn't feel right to leave off after so few; at least this way, he isn't wasting his or Dr. Tam's time with such a brief session.

Whether he'll be able to move from the couch he just collapsed on is another story. After requesting a glass of water from a waitrat, he gulps down three painkillers (the usual dose is two, but frak it, he hurts so much right now) before stretching along the couch's full length. Some minutes later, the same waitrat returns with a silver tray.

Gaeta eyes the tray's contents. "Um."

The rat chitters.

"Sorry for the language, but...what the frak is that?"

Squeak.

In lieu of pointing out that he doesn't speak rat, Gaeta just sighs, scoops up the small -- very colorful -- magazine, and opens it to take a look.

Apparently there's a tie-in comic book series for that famous squopera, Tentacles of Our Waves. Who knew.

[ooc: in and out for a bit, but back for good at 10 PM eastern!]

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"Best guess I've got," agrees Gaeta, absently rubbing his right thigh. "Or something I just don't have to think about a lot."

Beat.

With something approaching amusement, "I don't really want to think about some of those panels too much."

"Me neither," says Steve, turning the book lengthwise to look at one of the panels from another angle. "Though I guess...squids are just really flexible."

"They'd have to be, with no bones," says Gaeta: absent, but still smiling a little. "Cephalopods are pretty much all muscle."

Lucky cephalopods.

Steve laughs at himself. "Of course. It slipped my mind entirely."

"I'm always kind of surprised how much I remember from my biology classes." Gaeta shifts a little to make himself more comfortable on the couch. "I mean...I guess they weren't that long ago, but even so."

"I spent so much time studying the human body I forget about other creatures. Looks like I need to spend some time at the aquarium."

"Is there one near to where you're stationed right now?"

Curious.

"I mean, ah, I doubt you'd have the time to visit it anyway, but..."

"I'm not really stationed anywhere," Steve says, closing the book. "I spent a couple weeks in Los Angeles but other than that, I'm constantly on the move. We've got over two hundred cities to visit.

"I'll just have to find some time in a city that has one."

Or wait until the war is over. His list of things for then just keeps getting longer.

Gaeta lets out a low whistle.

(His heart still aches a little at the mention of so many cities, all healthy, all thriving. It's an old ache, though; it's not as pressing as the current one.)

"I hope you can," he says. "Wish I could spend some R&R like that."

"Thanks."

Steve hesitates a moment, then says, "You can visit other people's worlds, did you know that? If I can carve out a little time I'd be happy to come get you. I'm sure we could make accommodations for whatever you need."

Gaeta swallows against a suddenly dry throat.

"I wish I could." Quiet. "I just..."

Earth remains something very nearly sacred. It was all right to share with Louis, and with Demeter so close by, but to have it offered so casually --

"I shouldn't go that far from my post."

"Okay," says Steve, watching his face with concern.

It takes a couple of beats for Gaeta to notice (and process) the look Steve's giving him. Once he does, a wry smile flickers across his face; he shakes his head.

"I've seen Earth already," he says, as if trying to reassure. "I'm just nervous about getting locked there by accident."

"Can that happen? Seems like people pretty much come and go as they please."

"No godsdamn idea," he admits, rubbing his forehead. "But...it's not worth risking."

"Okay," says Steve again, still looking worried--this time about the other invitations he's offered, and if his friends could get trapped in 1943 if they're not careful.

And it seemed to simple to him previously.

Gaeta studies him for a beat.

"Have you ever gone for a while without being able to get to the bar?"

Steve shakes his head. "There's usually a few weeks between visits, but I've never been able to not get here when I wanted to."

"I've heard it can happen to people," he says. "Sort of, um, like the reverse of being Bound, I guess. It happened to me not that long ago."

Gaeta tips his head toward his ruined leg.

"When that happened."

"So I guess being Bound means you can't leave the bar," Steve says flatly.

"I had no idea."

"...Really?"

Gaeta's eyebrows lift in obvious surprise. (And faint chagrin. He would have at least tried to bring up that part a little more gently, had he known Steve hadn't heard it before.)

"Frak, I'm sorry. Yeah, that's, uh, that's a thing too. Your door can disappear or just...not open sometimes."

"But how can that be? It's just a door."

Only a little dryly: "How can the whole rest of the frakking bar even exist in the first place?"

Steve barely chuckles at that.

"True enough."

Gaeta's mouth twitches in a wry smile to match.

"Anyway," he says. "I've heard bringing something from the bar home with you, like...a napkin, or something, helps prevent you from getting locked out. I don't think anybody's figured out how to stop from getting locked in, though. Or how to reverse it once you are locked in."

It just kind of happens.