Sample scene flavor two for marvel_universe

[cold_shoulder]

He was standing on the roof of the building.

He knew he should go downstairs and knock on Steve's door, the way a civilized person would. The way he should have a long time ago, when he first remembered. But he couldn't. Facing Steve with what he had done, in a place where they could actually talk? Knowing the look of disappointment that would inevitably cross the familiar blue eyes?

It wasn't any easier knowing that he wasn't Steve's partner, after all, not really. Nothing was easier.

But running hadn't really changed anything, had it?

He looked out over the street once more. In a moment, he'd go down.

In a moment.

Comments

[cap_a]

The events had played over and over in his mind for weeks now. Fury insisted that the moment he heard anything, he'd call. Tasha promised to hold Fury to the promise.

But that hasn't made it easier.

He goes to the window, looking out on the street below, his elbow and forearm resting against the pane, resting his forehead on his arm. Somewhere out there is Bucky.

Except... not really. The real Bucky died, just as Steve remembered.

"You're right, Cap! I see the fuse! It's gonna blow!"

The last words the real Bucky ever spoke.

But this other man... the creation of the Red Room...

He was built out of Bucky's remains. He had Bucky's memories now.

Doesn't that make him Bucky?

"It's gonna blow!" The explosion plays out before his eyes again.

The real Bucky is dead. But this man... he's got Bucky's memories. He's got Bucky's body. Perhaps not his soul... but the chance to have his own, inspired by Bucky's example...

He can be Bucky's legacy unlike anyone else.

Steve stares out the window, wondering where his oldest friend -- a complete stranger -- might be.

[cold_shoulder]

Nothing happened to stop him from doing what he'd decided he needed to do. He hadn't expected anyone to come stop him, but still, after a few minutes, it became clear that he was only postponing the moment. What good was that?

Half-angry at himself, he swung down off the roof and started moving down, carefully, quickly.

They hadn't had homes, before. Sure, Camp Lehigh had been home, but they hadn't had their own homes.

Stop that. You aren't the person who went through the war. You never were. Those memories aren't you.

It was distracting himself from where he was going, and he recognized it at such. So he hopped down on the ground, shook his hair loose, and started around the building to get in the proper way. He probably could have gotten in from above. But what kind of a start would have that been?

Knock-knock. Ding dong. You have a guest, Steve Rogers...

[cap_a]

Steve looks up from the window, glancing over his shoulder at the door. He briefly considers not answering it -- he wasn't in the mood for a visit from pretty much anyone at the moment. But, realizing it could be important, he moves to the door and throws it open.

And stares for only half a heartbeat before throwing his arms around Bucky in an embrace.

[cold_shoulder]

"H--" he starts a greeting, which would be invariably awkward, but Steve's motion draws him in before he can complete it.

And then the hug's familiarity tightens his throat. It shouldn't be familiar, a voice in his head reminds him. He doesn't deserve it, either, and this one is much easier to hear.

But after a moment of complete surprise, he gives in, arms coming up to hug Steve back.

When he manages to speak, it's raspy from the way his throat has clamped. "Hey."

[cap_a]

"C--" Steve starts, and his voice catches in his throat.

He breaks the embrace and looks the man in the eye. And again, he's struck by the dichotomy of someone being his best friend and a complete stranger at the same time.

"Come in," he manages. "Please."

[cold_shoulder]

"Thanks." He manages a sort-of smile to go with that.

Ah, there it was, in Steve's eyes. The longing and the awareness that he is a lie. And yet... not quite. He isn't lying, and he isn't going to.

He starts by taking off his gloves, stuffing them in the jacket's pocket, even as his eyes scope the place without even being fully aware of it. Too much habit.

And also too much habit being aware of Steve's body language. Which doesn't seem to have changed all THAT much since the war. He heads in the direction Steve was orienting himself before anything as explicit as a gesture.

"I hope I didn't interrupt anything?"

[cap_a]

"Nothing," Steve admits. Beyond wondering where you are, and what I can do to help you.

And then the questions pour out of his mouth before he can stop them. "Are you okay? Do you need help? Is there anything I can do?"

[cold_shoulder]

Bucky blinks. This isn't what he thought would be happening, although after the startled reaction passes, he realizes he isn't surprised and he shouldn't have been. This is Steve, after all, and thinking about his friends comes first. And foremost. And above everything.

His shoulders ease down slightly, all the same.

"I'm fine. I'm... I've gotten used to getting around, over time. I just... came to talk. Without anyone shooting at us or anything like that." Because it's easier to work together when there's danger to be handled. It feels right, and they each still know the ways the other moves. But that's different from sitting down and working through some of the stuff.

A very slight twitch tugs a corner of Bucky's mouth up. "Like we can start with whether it's okay for me to call you Steve. All things considered." Start with the basics. Work your way up towards more complex stuff. The rules for efficient training apply, right?

[cap_a]

Steve smiles at him. "Please," he tells him. "If I can call you Bucky."

Or is that too much? Sure, he's got Bucky's memories... but also all the memories of the Winter Soldier. A different person.

But... if the Red Room had grabbed the real Bucky... would it have been any different?

"Unless you'd prefer something else," Steve adds a little lamely.

[cold_shoulder]

"Please," he echoes, and just for a moment, the acknowledgement brightens his eyes, and it takes an effort to moderate the eagerness, before it grew into hunger. "I wasn't sure if you wouldn't like to... differentiate."

His look turns slightly distant, and he shrugs. "I'm not sure what I prefer exactly. I remember the past both ways, and both ways fit in their places, but they don't fit together at all, so it seems neither is right. I'm just certain of one thing that I want." Attention turns back to Steve. "To set things right again, somehow. The downside to this plan being the definition of normal."

And yes, now that corner of his mouth is definitely turned up. Not an easy smile, no, but much of Bucky's self-deprecation definitely there.

[cap_a]

Steve smiles at him -- an honest, open smile -- and he places his hands on Bucky's shoulders, looking him square in the eyes.

"You may not have been the man you remember being, Bucky... but you're choosing to be that man now. I can think of nothing more fitting."

[cold_shoulder]

It's like staring full-on into the sun, looking into that smile, into those eyes. Bright, and warm, and almost blinding.

It takes a moment to process the fact, but Bucky doesn't look away, even if his eyes widen slightly, and he swallows with throat suddenly dry at it.

"Do you... have any idea how hard it is to resist when you put your faith into somebody like that? I mean, it always was..." No, wait, this isn't what he is remembering... and, at the same time, it is. He is recalling it all too well.

Yet his own smile was slowly coming out in return, his hands coming up to clasp Steve's arms, above the shoulders, the left one carefully moderated to match the strength of the right one. "I don't really see all that many options, not now that I know everything." Not options he could live with, at any rate. But, even more importantly, "and it's what I want to be. Who I want to be. If I can manage it."

[cap_a]

"You can," Steve tells him, with all the certainty that one might use to say that the sky is blue. "And I think Bucky himself would be honored." Steve raises an eyebrow. "Wouldn't he?"

[cap_a]

"The Thinker... is still doing things from time to time. But he's in prison at the moment." Steve shakes his head. "For all that stops his schemes.

"As for Namor... he thought Atlantis had been destroyed, so he declared war on the surface. He... calmed down, eventually. And no one was badly hurt. He's still pretty much the same Namor."

[cold_shoulder]

"... can't say I would blame Namor for that kind of reaction. But good. It'd be... really not good to see him being anyone else."

He narrows his eyes thoughtfully. "So the Thinker's still working things from prison, hm? Maybe if somebody ends up wondering what to do with me, I can go squat nearby and see if I can catch something before it explodes into somebody's face."

For killing Toro and Jim, yeah. Bucky wants to get back at the guy. But personal revenge isn't the way to go. Isn't the way he's willing to let himself go, not right now. Not in cold blood.

Stopping any nefarious plans? Now that can work as a vengeance. Probably more efficiently than any physical harm he can inflict.

[cap_a]

"Be careful with the Thinker," Steve warns. "He's usually got all his bases covered -- and then some. You might not even know what game you're playing with him until he's already won."

He turns towards the kitchen; he might as well get Bucky something warm to drink. "But if you need any help with it... let me know. I'll be there."

[cold_shoulder]

"Yeah, but that's provided he knows there's a new player to work against, and who that is." Bucky follows, raising a hand. "I can be pretty near invisible. But I'll read up on what he's done, and how, before I even try that. That work?"

He's not planning to engage, no. Going for a guy already in prison will probably be all kinds of shady. Bucky now may still prefer the shadows, but not that kind. Not anymore. Not unless he has no other choice.

[cap_a]

"Assuming he doesn't already know," Steve replies. "You've always been good at sneaking around. If anyone can take him by surprise... it's you."

[cold_shoulder]

"And I've gotten much better." Bucky nods. "We can see if I won't be needed elsewhere, you guys... tend to be busy. But as I don't have outstanding engagements, that may be a project worth taking up. Plus, if he's just working a cobweb from there, I don't have to take him by surprise, just follow the strands without getting tangled in them."

It looked like something that would keep him out of the way of ... those who had good reason to doubt him, while still useful, and probably not that far out of reach as to not be able to help when numbers were needed. It made sense in his head, at least. And maybe something detailed but likely quiet for a spell could help him get his own head straight.

[cap_a]

Cap puts a kettle of water on the stove, and gets out some hot chocolate mix along with two mugs.

"Do whatever you need to do, Bucky," Steve replies. "I'll do whatever I can to help you."

He pauses, considering. "Where are you staying?"

[cold_shoulder]

"And I, you." Steady, certain. He has absolutely no doubts that Steve is carrying plenty enough on his shoulders, and while he isn't up to turning down the offered help - there are things, as he can appreciate right now, that Steve alone can do - and the corresponding burden, he can help in other ways. The usual ways that they both know without having to think of.

"I'm... Natalia helped me find an apartment. Even with the time I spent here hiding, she knows the city as it is now better than I do."

He starts to give the address when he finally registers what Steve is preparing. And his eyebrows rise in surprise before his face changes in a startled, much more youthful expression than he's probably shown in decades. And a smile. "Oh."

[cap_a]

"Tasha's a good friend," Steve acknowledges. He gives a smile to Bucky as he glances down and realizes what he's making.

"You still like hot chocolate, right?"

It wasn't something they had very often back in the war, but it was a treat when they could get it. Coffee or tea was more common, but after a long mission in cold weather, there was nothing like coming back to the camp to enjoy a cup of cocoa.

[cold_shoulder]

"Yeah, she is," Bucky agrees quietly, ducking his head to hide the small, wondrous smile at that thought.

And the other smile at the question is less hidden, and he rubbed his neck. "I think so. I remember liking it..."

But he, himself. The clone. Just hasn't actually had any.

[cap_a]

The expression regarding Tasha doesn't go unnoticed by Steve. But he lets it go unmentioned.

As the kettle begins to whistle, Steve pours the hot water into the mugs, stirring the powder in. Jarvis would scold him for keeping powdered cocoa in such a manner, instead of having "real" hot chocolate, but this is exactly the sort of thing they had back in the war.

He hands the cup to Bucky, then offers his up in a toast.

Bucky's been gone a long, long time. He's been on a cold mission that tested him to his limits. And now he's back... and he gets to enjoy a cup of cocoa.

"To coming home," he offers with a smile.

[cold_shoulder]

It's not that Bucky is trying to hide from Steve, because he isn't. But what's going on there is... a whole layer of complicated and difficult to put into an explanation.

But this, here... he takes the cup in both hands for a moment, the warmth from it seeping into his palms as the warmth from his friend, his... (his progenitor's) older brother, warmed him in an entirely different way.

"To coming home," he echoed, raising his drink in return. And maybe his toast also has the flavor of finding home, but it is true all the same, making his voice quieter, thicker with emotion. "And friends."

He is smiling as he raises the cup to his lips for a sip, and the familiar (slightly removed, but still familiar) taste, in this company, almost makes it hard to swallow.

A deep breath into the aroma over the cup, and he grins up at Steve. Because even with the time and complications, there are ways in which Steve knows him better than he knows himself, almost. And that makes it easier to believe in Cap's faith him. And that is a lot. "Thanks. For... for knowing how things oughtta be." Shrug. He's not really all that good with words. But he suspects Steve will get it, anyway.