Prompt Post 1

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At least one of the characters in your prompt must have been in Captain America: The First Avenger or Captain America: The Winter Soldier.

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Update, April 22, 2014:
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Fill: And I Am Always with You, Part 40

[lauralot]

He manages two hours of sleep before his dreams turn to blood and sparks. He lays in the bed, waiting for the flashes of red and white to fade from his vision, body tensed as though a current has just passed through it, for another ten minutes or so before he gets up. It isn't much later that Stark finds him.

"I've been thinking," the man says, "and it's occurred to me that we've all been overlooking the most tragic part of your situation."

"Brainwashing?" the Soldier asks. Steve and Sam seem to consider that very tragic. But they haven't been overlooking it, so there must be some new tragedy that Stark has discovered. He doubts he has the emotional capacity to deal with any other indignities, but the Soldier has the sense that his lack of reaction will only cause further stress to the others. Perhaps he should have remained in bed.

"That's secondary, Robocop. Are you aware that you slept through the dawn of rock?"

The Soldier is almost certain that rocks existed in the forties. "What?"

"Rock music. They froze you in, what, 1945? You didn't even make it to rhythm and blues, did you? I could cry on your behalf. I won't, but I could."

Music. If he strains his mind, the Soldier can see dance halls, hear words like Lindy Hop and East Coast Swing. He remembers the motions that constitute dancing, though he has yet to recall any practical use for that skill set. The Soldier cannot bring any music to mind, but it strikes him as equally pointless. "I am sufficient."

"Like hell you're sufficient. You're a tragedy." Stark is guiding him, looking as enthused as he did when he scanned the Soldier's arm. "Listen, you're a punk rocker. I can see it in your hair. But I'm not about throw the Sex Pistols at you and go on my merry way. There's a whole history you have to appreciate to get the most out of it."

The Soldier understands neither punk rocker nor Sex Pistols. What he does understand is that Stark is not one to be dissuaded, so he allows himself to be led to a room full of speakers, trying to absorb strange terms such as "rockabilly" and "Brit invasion." The first songs he hears are almost familiar, and he thinks the dances he recalls could accompany music from Chuck Berry and Ray Charles and perhaps Elvis Presley.

But then there are songs such as "Paint it Black" and "Strawberry Fields Forever" and the music becomes alien to anything he may have once known. The Soldier is unable to react to any of the sounds around him—he never had opinions as an asset about anything, but especially not music as no effort was made to expose him to it—so instead he watches Stark. The man is so animated, even by his own standards, so full of passion for this seemingly useless medium. It makes the Soldier smile, which Stark takes as enthusiasm, rambling even faster.

Did Barnes react to anything this way? Did he feel for dancing what Stark feels for rock?

It must be a pleasurable sensation, passion. It must be overwhelming, to give such fervor to such inconsequential things. The Soldier feels, observing the other man's response to the music, as if he is thirsty and his companion is drinking water. He desires the sensation. Perhaps he should attempt dancing to see if it sparks passion within him still.

"All right," Stark says, once they have progressed through doo wop, psychedelic, pop rock, and a half dozen other distinctions the Soldier nearly grasps, "and this is what the previous thirty years or so of innovation and experimentation was leading to. Buddy Holly, The Kinks, Hendrix, all of them, just setting the stage for AC/DC. Who are, objectively, the greatest rock group of all time."

The song begins with a burst of noise that the Soldier initially takes for static. It occurs to him that this is the music and he ponders if loudest means greatest in terms of rock, but then the lyrics begin and he is preoccupied. The Soldier had been trained to memorize all radio broadcasts, so that any orders or information transmitted would not be lost or overlooked. He realizes the training need not be utilized in this exercise, but it isn't something he can shut off. He is committing the words to memory when one phrase gives him pause.

Highway to hell. That word again. "What is hell?"

"Uh." Stark blinks, pulled away from the music. "Either eternal damnation or one seriously impressive party, depending on whose definition you get."

So he had asked Who the eternal damnation is Bucky? It still makes no sense. He frowns, resolving to research idioms in the English language later, and stiffens when there is an unexpected voice behind him.

"I thought we were going to lunch." It is Pepper, whom he did not hear enter over the rock. She eyes Stark. "Please tell me you're not showing off your music collection to a captive audience again."

"It's educational," the man protests. "It might even constitute community service."

Pepper sighs, but the resignation doesn't show in her eyes. "Couldn't you introduce him to something a little more upbeat?"

"The idea here's musical catharsis, honey. I could have gone the obvious route and introduced him to Smashing Pumpkins, but I have restraint."

"And we have a reservation we're about to be late for." She links her arm with Stark's.

"I knew that," Stark says as she steers him toward the door. "I so knew that. I was testing you. Hey, Daft Punk." He glances back at the Soldier. "You're welcome to play anything, but just know that if it turns out you have bad taste, I am morally obligated to mock you."

Pepper swats his shoulder. "Ignore him, Bucky. He's a snob."

They are disappearing into the hallway as Stark says, "I'm a connoisseur."

"JARVIS?" the Soldier asks.

YES, SERGEANT BARNES?

"What is upbeat?"

He was asking for a definition, but the answer he receives is POP, GENERALLY SPEAKING.

"Pop?" Soda pop comes to mind, but what would that have to do with anything?

POP MUSIC IS AN ELECTIC GENRE DERIVED FROM ROCK AND ROLL. IT IS CONSIDERED PLEASURABLE TO LISTEN TO WITH MASS AUDIENCE APPEAL.

The Soldier wonders what the point of music that is not pleasurable to listen to would be, before wondering what the point is of music at all. "Oh."

WOULD YOU LIKE TO VIEW MR. STARK'S SELECTION OF POP MUSIC? The computer screen on the wall switches from information on "Highway to Hell" to an alphabetized list. The Soldier taps the first name his hand lands on, and then a song at random from the next list that appears.

It begins with a beat that is not so different from rock, but the melody starts and the Soldier smiles. His mind is immediately committing the words to memory—I got a new life, you would hardly recognize me—but there is something else happening in his head, something he would struggle to define were he not preoccupied with experiencing it. It is not, he thinks, the passion he saw in Stark because it is not nearly so intense, but it is a form of pleasure. Enjoyment?

He sits, listening. "JARVIS?" the Soldier asks when the song ends.

YES, SERGEANT BARNES?

"Could you play that again?"

By the fourth play through of the song, he no longer needs to ask JARVIS to repeat it. The Soldier remains still, eyes shut.

There is contentment in listening, in knowing what will come next, and he finds that no matter how many times he hears it, the Soldier is still able to lose himself in the music. The half-formed memories, restlessness, worry over Steve, and confusion regarding HYDRA, all of it is subdued. For once, he is not torn between an asset and a person. He simply is.

"Ace of Base, huh?" Stark asks, and the Soldier opens his eyes. He does not know if that is the name of the band or of the song; he hadn't bothered to look.

Stark, examining the computer screen, whistles. "You just listened to the same song forty-seven times in a row."

The Soldier nods.

"Why?"

"I know I like it." And the sensation of liking is one he wants to feel again and again.

"Can't argue with that." Stark shrugs. "Though, for everyone else's sanity, you might want to learn to like headphones too."

Re: Fill: And I Am Always with You, Part 40

[(Anonymous)]

Oh man, imagine catching up on 70 years worth of music...
Anyway, looking forward to the next chapter!

Re: Fill: And I Am Always with You, Part 40

[lauralot]

And seventy years of movies and books and everything...if I were Bucky and Steve, I'd never leave the house.

Re: Fill: And I Am Always with You, Part 40

[(Anonymous)]

This alternately makes me want to smile and break down crying.

Re: Fill: And I Am Always with You, Part 40

[lauralot]

This story seems to do that to people.