James Buchanan 'Bucky' Barnes (
nerves_of_ice) wrote2022-02-27 03:26 pm
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[Leipzig AU] a means to a necessary end
It's a long flight from Berlin to Novosibirsk and the secret location far beyond it, even in a Quinjet. They spend the time planning and coordinating. Bucky describes the structure and security of the facility itself as best he remembers. Tony calls up plans and blueprints from god knows where and throws them into the middle of the plane for all to see. They're not the same as what Bucky remembers, they figure out fairly quickly, but they're better than nothing.
Tony also takes over the back of the plane and snaps at anyone who comes close, doing something that involves shifting screens and models of buildings and wave patterns and a human skull, and the eventually the low humming grind of a machine. Soon after, he stalks back up to the front of the plane and shoves a set of custom-fabricated earplugs at Bucky, who stares at them and then at Tony.
"Noise-cancelling all the way to total sound blackout. Tap the end of the earpiece to deafen yourself," Tony informs him. "Last thing we need's for you to be his puppet." Bucky starts to stammer a thanks, but Tony growls something under his breath and stalks back to the back of the plane again to work on something else. Steve catches Bucky's eye and shakes his head, and Bucky decides to leave well enough alone.
Sam advises everyone to rest in shifts; Bucky knows he's not wrong, but neither he nor Steve can do it, and after a while Sam stops trying to convince them. Natasha sits with him for a while, her eyes dark with concern. They don't say much, but there's no need to.
A Snowcat is parked outside the door of the facility when they land. Bucky's jaw sets in hard lines at the sight of it, and he trades a look with Steve.
They're already here.
Tony also takes over the back of the plane and snaps at anyone who comes close, doing something that involves shifting screens and models of buildings and wave patterns and a human skull, and the eventually the low humming grind of a machine. Soon after, he stalks back up to the front of the plane and shoves a set of custom-fabricated earplugs at Bucky, who stares at them and then at Tony.
"Noise-cancelling all the way to total sound blackout. Tap the end of the earpiece to deafen yourself," Tony informs him. "Last thing we need's for you to be his puppet." Bucky starts to stammer a thanks, but Tony growls something under his breath and stalks back to the back of the plane again to work on something else. Steve catches Bucky's eye and shakes his head, and Bucky decides to leave well enough alone.
Sam advises everyone to rest in shifts; Bucky knows he's not wrong, but neither he nor Steve can do it, and after a while Sam stops trying to convince them. Natasha sits with him for a while, her eyes dark with concern. They don't say much, but there's no need to.
A Snowcat is parked outside the door of the facility when they land. Bucky's jaw sets in hard lines at the sight of it, and he trades a look with Steve.
They're already here.
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This isn't just Bucky getting upset. It's something else entirely.
But he doesn't ask about it yet, just tries to give Bucky a ladder so he can claw himself back out of whatever's happening to him.
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"Sorry," he says, wearily.
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"Are you okay?" he asks. "What happened?"
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"Just pushed it too far, is all."
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"Pushed what too far?"
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He adds some gentle pressure to the hand at Bucky's back, coaxing him back to the chair. "Sit down. Talk to me."
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“I don’t know how to make it easier for you to hear,” he says, bleakly. “So I’m just going to say it. They conditioned me to not be able to want things. Express preferences of my own. That kind of thing. You see, I was a weapon. Weapons are tools. Tools don’t have wants. Or needs. ”
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(They have to find a way. Tony can do it. He promised not to ask, and he won't, but Tony's already thinking about it, isn't he?)
"So making a decision like that," he says, slowly, forcing down the pain and horror. It won't help, and it'll only make Bucky feel worse if he rages helplessly against something that's already happened. "It goes against the conditioning."
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Careful, careful speech, testing each word as he continues. "Trying to say something I w-- something for me. Not for ... others."
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"Okay," he says. It's not, but it's information he needs. Information they can work with. It's a start. "I'll remember. I won't push you on it, Buck."
He huffs a long, rueful breath. "But you know it's not going to stop me – or Sharon, or the others – from wanting things for you, right?"
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"It's okay," he says, softly. "You didn't hurt me. You won't. It's okay, Steve."
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He puts his hand over Bucky's and squeezes his friend's fingers. "You're not a weapon. You're a person. My best friend. And you deserve to want things like anyone else in this world."
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"I'm getting better at it. I promise. I've been practicing."
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"Baby steps," he says. "Is there a way I can help?"
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"Come on," he says, as lightly as possible. "Worrying about you is my prerogative. I've got a lot of years of it to make up for."
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"Especially if it means you'll stick around."
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"We'll see," he says, unable to promise anything more, and unwilling to lie to Steve. "One thing at a time."
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He gets up to refill his own mug, glancing at the clock on the kitchenette microwave as he does. "If we're going to be at the Center by nine, we might want to get Sharon up soon, meet up with the others."
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He breaks off there as a knock sounds at the suite door. Bucky trades a glance with Steve and goes to open it, as he's closer. He cracks the door enough to catch sight of who's on the other side, then pulls it all the way open and stands to the side as Natasha breezes in, carrying a garment bag.
"Nice to see you're awake," she greets them both. "Good morning. Where's Sharon?"
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Steve gives Bucky a helpless glance. He doesn't have any idea if it would be a breach of confidence to tell Nat that Sharon slept in the other room here last night, or who she was with. Everyone now knows, of course, but that doesn't mean he's comfortable giving out details she or Bucky might prefer to keep private.
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"Good morning, Natasha."
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"Freshly made."
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