milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Gaeta's been a little antsy the past couple of weeks. One eye to the calendar, one eye to his memories, he counted down to what should have been that frakking awful robot holiday he had to endure last year. Then the expected weekend came, and...nothing.

Maybe Bar had been wrong when she told him it happened every year. Maybe he still isn't wholly attuned to the Milliways calendar.

Either way, his guard's down when he enters the main bar, and when he looks up to see the Lego-lined walls and the furnace burning in the corner, he grabs for the banister like he's been punched in the gut. Pale and frozen, he stares out at the room.

Oh, gods. No. Not again.

[ooc: this one's plotlocked -- sorry, folks!]

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Steve looks up from his Legos--it's halfway to being a flying saucer--and smiles when he sees Gaeta, about to invite him over for a drink.

Then he sees the thousand-yard stare.

He goes to Gaeta and says gently, "Lieutenant? Mr. Gaeta?" Lower, "Felix?"

They say the quickest way to jar a soldier back to reality is to use their full rank.

At Lieutenant, some of his focus returns; by Felix, it's squarely on Steve -- which gives him a good view of the rising panic.

"Captain," he manages, grappling onto what he knows. "Sir."

At Captain, Steve straightens up. "Are you all right, Mr. Gaeta?"

He opens his mouth. What he intends to say is yes, sir, I'm fine.

What comes out instead, in a low, desperate rush, is, "I need to get out of here."

He can't stay in his room, if he does it'll be just like last year, but there's nowhere else to go --

It comes out without thinking. "Would you like to come to my Earth?"

And he gives a little nod. Yes. Right thing to do.

The panic catches on Earth, like snagging on a briar bush, and holds.

Gaeta presses his lips together. A beat later, he nods, jerkily.

"Please. Yes."

He's not thinking of the Earth he knows, but the Earth the Scrolls promised: stability, safety, anywhere but here.

Steve takes Felix's arm. "Let's get you a bag together. C'mon. Where's your room?"

Gaeta takes an extra second to breathe in, and breathe out again, before answering.

"Upstairs," he says. "Three seventy-two."

"C'mon," Steve says again, gently, and turns Felix to go up the stairs.

It occurs to him that bringing home an unexpected houseguest might not go over well with Orpheus -- but he suspects Orpheus would understand, given things the bar has done to him over the years.

Room 372 isn't far from the staircase, fortunately. Bar couldn't give him something in the downstairs staff wing, but she could at least move his room as close to the stairs as possible.

Gaeta's hands tremble a little as he fishes out his keys. On the other side, there's a scrabble of talons and a muted plockplockplock! as Gogo sprints for the door.

"You've still got your dodo," Steve says, pleased. "He sounds happy to see you're home."

"Yeah." A wan smile. "He's a good bird."

Gaeta finally manages to get the door unlocked. The instant they're inside, Gogo circles his feet like an eager puppy, plocking the whole while. You weren't gone very long, Nestmate! Is everything okay? Where's Friend of Nestmate?

Gaeta leans down to pat the bird on the head.

And like the unexpected admission to Steve, rising from nowhere, he sinks to the floor and wraps both arms around the dodo in a brief, but fierce, hug.

Steve stands back awkwardly for a moment, then lays his hands on Felix's shoulder.

"Do you have a bag?" he asks quietly. The sooner Felix is packed, the sooner they can get out of here.

He nods, struggling to pull himself together. Gogo's plocking has taken on a mildly alarmed tone; he twists in Gaeta's arms to try and groom his hair.

"Back closet by the bed," he says.

Come on. Get up.

Steve fetches the bag. "Got any favorite clothes you'd like to bring?"

"I can..." With effort, he lets go of Gogo. The bird presses close to him as he gets up, stretching his neck to give Gaeta a little extra support. "Give me a second. I can get them."

Suiting action to words, he heads over to the dresser. All of the clothes he pulls out are basic, utilitarian: T-shirts and slacks and a pair of BDU pants.

(The latter's the closest he gets to favorite clothes. They're comfortable, and familiar. He doesn't feel quite so much like a civilian in them.)

Steve nods and holds out the bag.

Gaeta piles them in. Also speaking to his mental state: he doesn't bother to fold the clothes first.

His crutches rest against the dresser. Just in case, he grabs those as well. Wrestling them into the bag is a little more difficult, but he manages it swiftly enough.

Last is a pack of cigarettes he grabs from the nightstand, plus a cheap lighter.

"Is that everything?" He closes the bag. "Need to make some arrangements for Gogo?"

"Frak," he breathes, glancing down at Gogo. The bird blinks up at him, head cocked. "I'm...I'll just have to put some extra food in his dish."

Ideally, he'd bring Gogo with him. Extinct birds don't play well on modern Earth, though.

He moves to the kitchen cabinets, grabbing Gogo's food from one of them.

Steve gets down on one knee to scratch Gogo's head. "Gonna be without your buddy for a bit, okay? I promise I'll look after him."

"Plock?" asks Gogo.

"Yeah, it's okay, Gogo," Gaeta murmurs. "Don't worry. Be good, all right?"

Steve scratches Gogo's head and gets up. "Ready to go?"

"I think so," he says. "Yeah."

Anything he's forgotten, he can probably get in Steve's world. It's not like the Fleet, he firmly reminds himself; resources won't be so limited.

Shouldering the bag, he gives Gogo one last pat -- "Good bird." -- before heading for the door. Already, the prospect of going back downstairs has his heart triphammering again.

"Just a few steps," Steve murmurs, a hand hovering protectively at his back. "Walk fast, keep your eyes down. Straight across the room."

He nods, casting his gaze to the floor.

Down the stairs, back to the main bar, everything whirring and clanking around them. His throat clenches. Gaeta can only walk so fast, but, thank the gods, physical therapy has paid off: he doesn't stumble or falter en route to Milliways' front door.

Steve is not wearing the shield -- he usually doesn't in Milliways -- but you'd think he was, the way he's covering Felix.

When they reach the door, he grasps Felix's arm and lets him go through first.

He gives a look back at the bar -- he does like Cubefall, it appeals to his creative side -- and then firmly shuts the door.

Edited 2014-06-15 03:28 (UTC)

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