bottledblond | (no subject)

"New York City isn't exactly known for it's large, indigenous wolf population."

Steve isn't really paying attention to Tony Stark's yammering over a file he'd probably glanced at and tossed aside. He's too busy trying to get the screen to work properly so that a flick of his thumb across the surface won't send him ten pages ahead in the document he's trying to read or close out the pictures he's attempting to enhance. He understands the whole concept of renewable resources and he understands that the environment can't really sustain felling trees willy nilly, but he misses being handed folders with actually paper to spread out on the table in front of him.

Nastasha, thankfully, takes pity on him and the images of men and women with their throats pulled out appear on the large screen on the wall behind her. Steve isn't particularly pleased to see these things up close but he needs to know what they're actually planning her.

"Trained attack dogs?" Sam offers, but Steve, squinting, shakes his head.

"Germans used dogs during the war," he half muses. "That sort of mauling isn't what dogs can do. It's too--"

"Clean," Natasha offers and Steve nods. "This isn't the first time SHIELD has come across something like this." The photos on the screen change, become older and grainier. Not as clear. Steve can hear Tony muttering about glasses but ignores him again. "Same MO. Same lethal precision. Same wounds. They recovered fibers at the scene. Same fibers we have this time around too."

Steve's eyebrow arches. "You're going to say wolf?"

Natasha is grim as she nods. "Almost."

Bruce finally chimes in too. "Not just wolf," he says, adjusting nothing at all on his face as he's actually handed over his glasses to Stark, who is comically wearing them and looking pleased with himself. "Wolf and human DNA. I checked the old fibers too. It's unreal."

"So we have sixty years of attacks that tend to occur in three night cycles every month with a few years off in between groups," Tony says, leaning back, still in Bruce's glasses. "Sounds like a werewolf to me."

Steve snorts. "Now I've heard of a lot of crazy things," hell, he is one of those things, "but let's not jump to extremes. Do you think you can use the fibers from last night's attack to get a reading on where we might be able to find out who is--"

"Or what," Tony interrupts. "And yes. Ahead of you as always. We're ready to go for tonight."

There's not much else that needs to be discussed and so Steve nods, leaves the tablet behind to get some rest, and just after nightfall, heads to his spot on a roof not too far away from the Hudson River in Hells Kitchen to wait for something to happen. He expects nothing will, or that one of the other Avengers will be closer to the action when Tony's sensors go off.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

endsinafight

Bucky grips onto the heavy equipment with ease when Bruce hands it over to him, watching the other three disappear into the little room and return carrying a few other items. He follows them down the corridor where they unload the things onto a large table in an otherwise empty room. He carefully sets the stereo down, too, and looks at the two other men with only the barest hint of wariness in his eyes. He doesn't know them at all, but Steve does.

Steve is safe, and for now, at least, he thinks that if he doesn't upset anyone, he might not be punished by the other two men, either. At least not as long as Steve is around. He hadn't been mad about Bucky using hot water instead of cold. He remembers one of the handlers telling him he wasn't worth wasting warm water, that he was less than a dog, and that was why they hosed him down in ice water.

He follows them wordlessly back toward the room they'd removed things from.

"So this one's all yours for the night," Bruce tells Bucky with a small smile, motioning to it.

Oh. Containment cell. He shifts his gaze to Steve momentarily, feeling a little anxious about what's going to happen once Steve leaves for the night. He steels his nerves and moves toward the door, stepping just inside and pausing, eyebrows furrowing.

"I don't understand. There's no tube," he says, staring blankly at the bed that there's instead.

From:

bottledblond

The two shorter men exchange glances but Steve just smiles. “You’re not with HYDRA,” he says gently. He’ll remind Bucky of this as many times as it takes to stick. “You’re James Barnes. You’re a person. And you’re not going to be... contained the same way.”

“But we are locking you in,” Tony says because it’s the truth and Steve really needs to stop coddling someone who evidently tears the throats it of people at HYDRA’s request.

Steve grits his teeth to keep from saying something he’ll regret. Tony’s right anyway. “We are going to lock you in but you’ll be safe in there and we’ll be safe too in case you do end up...” He doesn’t want to say it out loud so he won’t.

Tony and Bruce share a wordless conversation of raised eyebrows and shrugs.

From:

endsinafight

He knows without reservation that Steve isn't part of HYDRA, since he'd been sent by HYDRA to kidnap him and bring him to them. They're going to be so angry with him when they find him again. Mission failure is always unacceptable, but sometimes it feels like they intentionally set him up for it. He doesn't know why, but it's something he feels certain about.

The name James Barnes, though, sounds so strange to him. A stranger's name. He wants to ask Steve why he calls him Bucky if his name is James. Bucky feels right even if HYDRA never addresses him by either name.

He shifts his gaze quickly to Tony and then back to Steve, in time to see Steve's jaw tense a little. "In case I end up malfunctioning or exhibiting erratic behavior," he finishes mildly. He isn't surprised. He's not even upset. He knows he's damaged because if he wasn't, he wouldn't have remembered Steve to begin with. He steps more fully into the room, pressing his lips together.

"Will I see you again?" The question's directed solely at Steve and his stomach twists at the thought of not seeing the other man again.

From:

bottledblond

“As cute as this is, I’m going before I vomit,” Tony announces, before Steve can even answer, leaving the Soldier and the Doctor behind. Steve’s very happy to ignore him this time, and he ends up stepping into the room with Bucky.

Why not? He can handle himself.

Bruce, though, isn’t really sure that he likes the idea. “You’ll be locked in, Captain,” he says in his mousy, overly mild mannered way, with just a ton of the exhaustion Tony Stark causes.

“Have JARVIS set the lock to my voice,” Steve says mildly before he shuts the door. He and Bucky are, thankfully, alone, though he doesn’t doubt that there’s monitoring equipment all over the place. “You should finish that soup, pal. Getting cold.”

From:

endsinafight

Bucky blinks a couple of times, mildly surprised when Steve steps into the containment cell with him instead of just locking him inside the way he'd assumed he would. No one from HYDRA would have dared to lock themselves in a room with him alone. But it doesn't stop the small smile that spreads across his face, almost involuntarily.

"Are you still hungry?" he asks as he moves to pick up his bowl of soup once more. If Steve says he is, he'll share it without reservation, like it was something he normally did. If not, he'll sit down on the floor and start eating once more, enjoying the warmth of the broth and marveling how strange it is to eat like this and not be fed through a tube.

From:

bottledblond

“That’s all you,” Steve promises, curiously watching Bucky sitting in the floor. There’s a table and some chairs, a bed, and even an arm chair in Banner’s containment room, but Bucky still is choosing the floor. Steve doesn’t mind joining him, but he can’t keep his mouth shut about it. “You don’t need to ask permission. For anything. Not anymore.”

Watching the way Bucky acts, the flashes of the man shifting back and forth from animal to weapon to the shadow of the man he had been, is certainly painful, and Steve aims to stop it, if not for Bucky, than himself.

“You have your life back, Buck.”

From:

endsinafight

He hums quietly at that, stirring the soup and scooping a spoonful of it up to his mouth, pausing at the rest of what Steve says, about not having to ask for permission for anything anymore. He falls silent, staring down at the soup for a long moment. He exhales, expression growing serious.

"They'll come for me," he tells Steve quietly, looking back up at him. "When they realize you're not really HYDRA. They'll come for you, too." It's just a matter of time. And maybe it won't be so bad, if they're together. Except the thought of them hurting Steve, wiping out his mind, freezing him on ice, making him kill for them -- it all makes him feel sick to his stomach.

"If we can't get away from them, you have to kill me." There's no hint of kidding in his voice.

From:

bottledblond

“I’m giving it two days,” Steve says, a bit of humor to the serious subject matter. His smile is mostly for show. “They were always coming for me. People have since I went out to look for you during the war.” He doesn’t for a second believe that punching Hitler during his USO shows made him a target, after all. Single handedly busting open a HYDRA testing facility and war camp, though, is enough to ruffle feathers. “I’m not scared of HYDRA. We fought them before and we will again. You’re safe here.”

They both are. They have the world’s mightiest heroes at their disposal (all save for Thor, though Steve doesn’t expect to see him again in his lifetime, to be honest.

“It’s not going to come down to it. No one needs to die.” He resists the urge to put his hand on Bucky’s knee. Tony might be watching. And Steve doesn’t want to get into everything with the older man. “Listen, it’s not your job to worry about that. Just to keep getting better.”

From:

endsinafight

Bucky studies him, cocks his head to the side. "You looked for me during the war?" He doesn't remember that. He doesn't remember much about the war, other than he was there and it was a long, long time ago. He remembers flashes of bright blue lights and a feeling of shock, but after that there's nothing.

He definitely doesn't remember being there with Steve, nor does he remember ever fighting HYDRA with him. He wonders if that's how they'd found him. If that's why they'd chosen him to be their weapon, so eventually they could try to use him against Steve.

He looks at Steve solemnly, wanting to believe that. But he knows HYDRA far too well to think it'll be that easy or simple to be free of them for good. For Steve to be free of them for good. "You'll need my help." It isn't a question. No one knows HYDRA from the inside out the way Bucky does.

From:

bottledblond

"Well you went missing, so yeah, someone had to come looking for you," Steve plays off, like it hadn't been a big deal, like he hadn't pushed his more or less fictitious title to the limit and gone against the direct orders of a commanding officer. "You never were really good at staying put. I had to fake my way into the Army just to follow you over to Europe."

That's not true at all. Steve had been trying to sign up for the war since the recruiters came to every corner and hospital in the Five Boroughs.

He did, however, become that much more convicted of the cause once Bucky shipped out, though. He'd never been alone, not really, not since Bucky came into his life.

"And yeah, I'm going to need your help but not for awhile. You need to recover, get more of your memory back...and maybe figure out how to control the wild hair growth."

From:

endsinafight

He stirs the soup and takes another bite, then another before it's gone. Probably for the best, considering his only meals in the last several decades have been by a feeding tube. Het sets the bowl down beside him, resting his hands in his lap. He's not sure what to think when Steve says he'd faked his way into the army for Bucky, to find him when he'd gone missing.

Bucky does look up at him, though, when he mentions controlling the wild hair growth. He knows he's not talking about the hair on his head, long and shaggy as it might be. He's talking about the fact that he's a werewolf.

"I can control it most of the time," he tells him. "But I can't always control my eyes."

From:

bottledblond

“Always have to one up me,” Steve laughs,reaching for the bowl to set it on the table above him. “But what’s it like? I mean, why would you... wouldn’t a gun be easier?”

Bucky could also just rip people apart with his bare hands. Steve knows that for a fact. It takes relatively little pressure to knock off a jaw or crush a windpipe. He needs to be so careful not to do it accidentally, but the people he comes up against... They’re not always lucky. The heat of the moment can do terrible things even to a man desperately attempting to pull his punches.

He leans forward, eye earnest and interested, like they’d always been when grilling Bucky about dates.

From:

endsinafight

"What's scarier to you, a guy with a gun or a monster from a nightmare?" There's more to it than that, too, but at the end of the day that's what it boils down to for HYDRA. They'd used him to accomplish a whole lot of things: successful human experimentation trials, instilling terror in their victims, and he can take a lot more damage than even a super soldier and not die.

He remembers once hearing one of the handlers say he'd been the greatest achievement in HYDRA's history. There are others now, too, and not all werewolves. HYDRA had definitely succeeded in changing the entire world in the last century.

He rubs a hand over his face. "It's easier to keep me under control if the only weapons I have are claws and fangs and everyone else has long-range weapons stuffed full of poison."

From:

bottledblond

Steve outwardly winces. These are important topics to discuss, but Bucky had only been free of HYDRA for two hours. He shouldn’t be grilling him. Not like this. The man sighs, watching his now shaggy haired friend in those old gym clothes gaze periodically at the floor or at the wall and drift into coldness.

He wants to help but there’s no magical answer for this one.

“I think they’re pretty neat,” Steve says. “You see a lot of guys with super strength these days. And I like the hair the way it is now too. It suits you. Are you tired at all? Tony had some comfortable beds, I’ll give him that much.”

From:

endsinafight

There's no magical answer and no miracle cure. He knows his brain is a mess, and he knows the only reason his body isn't, too, is because of the fact that he's a werewolf who heals quickly from injuries. Most of them, anyway. He exhales, flexing the fingers on his left hand and looking at Steve, faintest of smiles touching his mouth at the hair comment.

"Thanks," he says quietly. He glances across the room to the large bed that's there and he hesitates. "I'm not sure I can actually sleep." He's not sure his body truly even requires it. Sure, he gets tired, but he's not sure he can or even should try it.

"Are you tired?"

From:

bottledblond

“You’re gonna figures this out, pal, but I learned awhile ago that you sleep when you can because sometimes it comes fee and far between.” Steve is all right with sitting up if Bucky wants. He’s all right with watching over him while he sleeps. He can even spread out on the floor. Banner keeps a thick carpet and Steve’s had so much worse in his life.

He glances at the bed same as Bucky does and for a moment, he’s taken back to those times when—

Bucky doesn’t even remember them and here Steve is, daydreaming away about things that they’d literally been breaking the law to so long ago.

Steve’s cheeks pink and he clears his throat. “You can try if you want.”

From:

endsinafight

"Makes me wonder how much sleep you get," he responds with a look very similar to the ones he doesn't recall giving Steve time and again through the years. From what he's said in the last few minutes, Bucky has a feeling it's not much, and the realization comes along with a pang of -- he's not actually sure. Worry? Trouble? Anxiety? A lot of words spring to mind and he has no idea which one is the most fitting in this situation.

It's very strange to interact with someone whom you know you know, but who's also somehow a complete stranger. The sense of familiarity with no real memory to back it up is disconcerting to say the least. He wonders if it's even worse for Steve, who has the memories, but whose former best friend is now something else entirely.

"Maybe I should take the floor," he says after a moment. On the off chance he manages to sleep, waking up in a bed is going to be confusing as hell.

From:

bottledblond

Actually, Steve can understand that concept, and he can see in Bucky’s eyes (after he gets ahold of himself once the look chiding disbelief leaves) that he’s got to be allowed to take baby steps back to being human.

“It’ll be like when we were kids,” Steve says, standing up with one fluid motion to retrieve the cushions from the couch. He sets them up in a row along the side of the bed and then retrieves one of the blankets from it to tuck in along the edges, a little like a sleeping bag or a bedroll. It’s a good thing that this is Bruce’s room and not Tony’s or they’d probably have to deal with a leather couch.

The blond sets himself on the edge of the bed and finally takes off his boots, grunting with effort, and sets them at the foot of the bed, ready for action if need be.

“Should have gotten a change of clothes before they locked us in,” he muses.

From:

endsinafight

Bucky watches wordlessly as Steve begins to make a pallet on the floor for the two of them. The carpet itself is already softer than what he's used to and he runs his fingers across it without really thinking about it. "Did we do this a lot when we were kids?" He asks curiously, rising to his feet and moving over to the side of the bed.

He's already only wearing socks and not shoes so he plops down on the makeshift bedroll, exhaling. It's soft, really soft. It's not a bed, but it's definitely more comfortable than the floor alone would be. There's even a blanket. He can't remember ever having a blanket before. He doesn't necessarily need it considering how much body heat that he radiates. It's still nice.

He glances up at Steve. "You don't wear an undershirt and boxers under that?"

From:

bottledblond

The shift in Steve, the way he moves his weight around, belays his discomfort. "Boxers don't really work," he says, though he's not completely commando under the tight armor. He just doesn't really care to parade himself around in the underwear he does wear, especially when there is very likely a particularly cruel, mouthy engineer watching.

The whole uniform is one piece, too, so it's not like he can just take the top portion off.

"I've had this thing on for a week once," he claims, laying on the bed because there's no way both he and Bucky are going to be sharing couch cushions. They're much too narrow for a double occupancy. And he's not crowding the other man.

From:

endsinafight

He tilts his head slightly, considering. "Could go change." He'd have to leave the room, but not the building. And he'd had JARVIS programmed to unlock the door if he requests it. Bucky exhales and shifts so he's lying down on the pallet Steve had made, staring up at the ceiling. It feels strange, being in a prone position, atop something soft, to boot. It makes him uneasy, even with Steve mere feet away.

He shifts quickly onto his left side, so he's facing the bed, pressed up right against the side of it. Better.

From:

bottledblond

"I could," Steve agrees but he thinks that they are both pretty much aware of the fact that he's really not going to do that. Leaving Bucky the last few times had been a terrible experience and leaving now for his own comfort? Impossible. Unless the other man needs something, the captain will be right here with him.

The silence follows, mostly because though Steve could spend the next seventy years catching up with Bucky, there's not a whole lot of his Bucky in there to catch up with. The man needs his rest, even if he can't sleep, and Steve needs to be on guard in case he can't control the various aspects of what he is.

His breathing does even out, though, a sign that he's dozing, that it's fairly obvious that the blond isn't sleeping either, flat on his back, and listening to Bucky.

From:

endsinafight

He sleeps. Despite the fact he doesn't recall ever being allowed to sleep outside of cryo, he sinks into unconscious relatively quickly, all things considered. His body relaxes in a way it hasn't in a long, long time, and the rest just happens even though he makes an effort to stay awake for awhile. He doesn't dream. Doesn't even move once he's huddled against the side of the bed, face buried against the blanket beneath him.

When he wakes up it's hours later and sunlight is filtering into the room. He jerks up, alarmed, knowing he's done something that's against the rules, and his heart pounds fast and heavy in his chest until his gaze rests upon Steve. He blinks a few times, trying to clear his vision from remnants of slumber and exhaling, long and slow, rubbing his human hand over his eyes as his shoulders relax once more.

Steve looks cold and it makes his stomach turn as he rises to his feet, grabbing the blanket off his pallet of couch cushions and covering him with it silently before retreating to use the bathroom. He catches sight of himself in the mirror above the sink when he's finished and blanches. He looks terrible. He takes the time to wash his face with cold water, wiping his hands off on a towel when he's through. He rakes a hand through his long hair, trying to untangle the knots that formed overnight.

When he leaves the tiny bathroom area, he makes his way to the recliner by the window, curling up in it and staring out at the city.

From:

bottledblond

He hadn't meant to sleep. In fact, feeling that blanket cover him is rousing enough that Steve's first thoughts are to chide himself for being reckless. The familiar, and yet not too familiar, scent on the blanket causes him to drift back off though, letting Bucky have some time to himself actively choosing to do whatever he wants.

Tony Stark, however, hasn't been asleep. Bruce passed out a few hours before, head rests on forearms, one arm hanging across his lap. Tony saved his tea, decaf of course, so that it didn't short out his computer but other than that, he's been doing a little work on the side of keeping an eye on everyone in the containment unit.

With Bucky looking through the window so intently, he'll probably notice before too long that it's not real. Tony developed the technology for SHIELD to use on underground bases and had put it in Bruce's room because denying someone daylight, even artificial, is just wrong. He should know. He lived underground himself for a few hellish months.

Tony scans the room back to the blond, now curled up in Bucky's donated blankets, and smirks. Some watchdog.

From:

endsinafight

It's a great illusion, really. It's not something HYDRA had ever done for him in all his years with them. They didn't want him to have any freedom, even just the illusion of it. They'd kept him entirely cut off from the outside world, except for when they sent him on missions. There had never been time to enjoy it. And though the sunlight wasn't real, didn't produce actual warmth as it filtered through the room, he still found himself closing his eyes and tilting his head up toward the source.

He hears Steve stirring and casts a glance over at him, entire expression softening at the sight of him curled up beneath the blanket he'd covered him with.

Steve is important to him. Had always been important to him. Important enough that when HYDRA had showed him his target, something had broken loose in his brain and despite the years of conditioning and torture, he'd rebelled against all of them and changed his mission. He rubs his head as it begins to ache, wincing. When they find him, when they catch him again, they'll wipe him. Then, when his mind is a blank slate, he'll be punished horribly and he won't remember why he's being hurt.

He doesn't want to go back. When the trembling starts, it's minute, barely noticeable. His heart is pounding fast and he squeezes his eyes shut. It doesn't take long before he's shaking from head to toe, taking deep, gasping breaths as he shrinks back into the chair, like if he can just make himself small enough no one can touch him.