James Buchanan 'Bucky' Barnes (
nerves_of_ice) wrote2022-07-12 12:49 pm
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[Virginia AU] to unravel a torment you must begin somewhere
I need to think, he'd told Sharon, and it's true all the way down to his bones. The problem is that he's having trouble doing it. After he spends the next half hour jumping at shadows, he considers going down into the tunnels for a while, but reluctantly decides against it. There's a five-kilometer trail on the grounds that he's run a couple of times. It'll do for a test, to see if the agents are going to have either a singular or a collective fit at his being out of the compound proper. Bucky goes straight from the garage's back exit to the nearest point, strips his jacket and leaves it on the ground, then settles into an easy lope.
By the third circuit, his mind's clear enough for him to start mulling over a few things, clear enough for him to look at the events of the last day or so in a new light. No wonder he'd had something like a - he doesn't even know how to describe it, the whirlwind of shock and fear and hurt and near-panic and desperation that he's been feeling. A spiral, maybe, but in the end the term doesn't matter, it's the reason, and when he really lets himself think about it, it doesn't take a genius or a scientist to be able to pinpoint it. All three of the people he's closest to in the world, the ones who know him best, had deceived him - or, to be fair, had let him deceive himself. And as a result, all three - Sharon more than the others, but Steve and Natasha as well - had taken harm or have been placed at still-great risk of harm, harm he's desperate to defend them from somehow. When he looks at it that way, it's really no wonder why he's reacting as he is. It's also obvious to him that he can't allow it to continue.
Bucky sets his jaw in tight, grim lines, and keeps running.
Three hours later, he makes his way back inside, absently mopping the sweat from his face and neck with the discarded jacket, and goes to find Hogan. "Windows," he tells him. Whether or not he'll leave them uncovered doesn't matter, not now. "Lots of windows. Somewhere high, not too near people. Furnished however you do as standard's fine for now. Okay?"
"I've got just the one," Hogan tells him. "I'll have it ready tomorrow. That soon enough?"
"Yes," Bucky assures him. "Thanks."
He stays with Steve again that night. Things are a little strained at first, until Bucky breaks the ice and apologizes for how he's been reacting. Steve doesn't want his apology, but his best friend listens while he tries to explain, and that's more than good enough.
Later that evening, he texts Natasha to suggest they catch up soon, and offers to bring cocoa, hoping the idea'll amuse her enough for her to realize he's not angry. Not any more. He texts Alyona a picture of Steve's bike, one of the ones he'd taken hanging upside-down, just to say hi, and texts Sharon a good-night wish.
He doesn't sleep much, due to the incessant nightmares, but at least he knows the reason for them. It helps.
The coffee's already made when Steve gets up, and conversation's a lot more relaxed. He's the first to ask about getting on the training schedule, and Steve's smile lights up the room.
By 8:57 AM, Bucky's waiting in the same conference room as the day before, a mug of black coffee at hand, and a blank notepad and pen on the table in front of him.
By the third circuit, his mind's clear enough for him to start mulling over a few things, clear enough for him to look at the events of the last day or so in a new light. No wonder he'd had something like a - he doesn't even know how to describe it, the whirlwind of shock and fear and hurt and near-panic and desperation that he's been feeling. A spiral, maybe, but in the end the term doesn't matter, it's the reason, and when he really lets himself think about it, it doesn't take a genius or a scientist to be able to pinpoint it. All three of the people he's closest to in the world, the ones who know him best, had deceived him - or, to be fair, had let him deceive himself. And as a result, all three - Sharon more than the others, but Steve and Natasha as well - had taken harm or have been placed at still-great risk of harm, harm he's desperate to defend them from somehow. When he looks at it that way, it's really no wonder why he's reacting as he is. It's also obvious to him that he can't allow it to continue.
Bucky sets his jaw in tight, grim lines, and keeps running.
Three hours later, he makes his way back inside, absently mopping the sweat from his face and neck with the discarded jacket, and goes to find Hogan. "Windows," he tells him. Whether or not he'll leave them uncovered doesn't matter, not now. "Lots of windows. Somewhere high, not too near people. Furnished however you do as standard's fine for now. Okay?"
"I've got just the one," Hogan tells him. "I'll have it ready tomorrow. That soon enough?"
"Yes," Bucky assures him. "Thanks."
He stays with Steve again that night. Things are a little strained at first, until Bucky breaks the ice and apologizes for how he's been reacting. Steve doesn't want his apology, but his best friend listens while he tries to explain, and that's more than good enough.
Later that evening, he texts Natasha to suggest they catch up soon, and offers to bring cocoa, hoping the idea'll amuse her enough for her to realize he's not angry. Not any more. He texts Alyona a picture of Steve's bike, one of the ones he'd taken hanging upside-down, just to say hi, and texts Sharon a good-night wish.
He doesn't sleep much, due to the incessant nightmares, but at least he knows the reason for them. It helps.
The coffee's already made when Steve gets up, and conversation's a lot more relaxed. He's the first to ask about getting on the training schedule, and Steve's smile lights up the room.
By 8:57 AM, Bucky's waiting in the same conference room as the day before, a mug of black coffee at hand, and a blank notepad and pen on the table in front of him.
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He offers out the coffee with a smile. "Aside from Sergeant Barnes' own right to decide whether or not he'd prefer to keep the block in place, the Task Force has a vested interest in ensuring its permanence. I'd guess the Avengers do, too. You said black with sugar, right?"
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Satisfaction threads through him as he smiles. "Ah, yes, the Avengers' interest. Of course. How could I forget."
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She dislikes power games of all types, and ones like this in particular. "Perhaps you should take that up with Captain Rogers and Mr. Stark."
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She waits a beat, as Riley returns to his spot by Barnes. "In my professional opinion, Sergeant Barnes's new role is the most efficient and least cruel method of managing his particular situation."
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He shifts, finally, trying to draw the man's attention to himself. "That's different," he says, low and rasping. "Despite what you think of me, the rest of the Avengers are no threat."
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"Really?" the man asks. "I suggest you not test me, agent. I'm a busy man, and I've made time today to meet with Barnes myself. You can have your little touchy-feely chat after I'm done."
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A tiny, unamused curve touches her mouth. "In the meantime, perhaps you'd like to discuss your requests for access to Sergeant Barnes with Deputy Commander Ross. I'm sure he'd be more than happy to speak with you."
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"There you are," Tony breaks in, pushing the door open wide. Nothing's broken in the room, which is promising and honestly better than he was expecting after Happy'd gasped out the news of who was here and who he wanted to talk to. "Looks like you got sent to the wrong conference room, Secretary. Come with me and we'll get things sorted out."
He'd better. Steve had agreed to let him handle this, for now, and Tony's well aware of how fragile the mended trust between them still feels. To him, anyway.
He can tell from Ross's expression that it's the last thing the man wants to do, but the guy didn't end up in a political appointment like this one without having some smarts. Ross's wide smile shows his teeth. "Good to see you, Tony," he says, expansively, and looks at Barnes. "We'll talk soon. Don't go anywhere."
Barnes doesn't say anything at all, and Tony breathes a silent breath of gratitude as Ross passes him without a word to the Task Force agents. He grimaces, letting the others see it, and follows him out.
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"Riley, we need to speak to the Deputy Commander immediately." She turns, finally, and considers Barnes. "Sergeant, I recommend staying in close contact with Agent Riley or myself while the Secretary is here. I assure you, we will not allow him to bully his way to you."
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"He won't give up, you know."
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Her coffee is long since cold, but she re-takes her seat, anyway, folding her hands to study the man. "I apologize for the interruption and for allowing him to get this close without warning. It was a lapse on our part. It will not happen again."
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"It will not happen again," Ingrid repeats, with icy determination. She fixes Barnes with a steady gaze. "The Task Force will do whatever it takes to ensure your autonomy and freedom from the Winter Soldier program, Sergeant. The Secretary's suggestion that it be used as an American weapons program is tantamount to threatening a new nuclear race. We will simply not allow it to happen."
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"It wouldn't be the first time," he says, finally, and allows some of the exhaustion he feels to leach through into his words. "There are people who've been working on something related for decades. The control capability, what it does, combined with my skills and strength - that's going to be very attractive to a certain type of person. You have to realize that."
He just hopes no one finds out about Melina. Both Natasha and Sharon trust Fury to do the right thing there, at least.
Bucky draws a careful breath. "This is why I'm not an especially trusting person. So if you're serious about stopping them, I'd suggest you find out who sent Ross - this Ross - my file."
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Over in his seat, Riley sighs and shakes his head. "And we do realize it," he promises Barnes. "That's one reason why the Task Force assigned both of us to you. We figured there'd be an attempt by someone to get to you, to try and force you into service to some government or other; we just didn't think it would be this early."
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He looks at Ingrid. "We're not going to be able to keep Ross away forever. There's already precedent with the US Military's use of Colonel Rhodes, and Ross has been trying to get more control over them since SHIELD fell."
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Bucky sounds absolutely confident.
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"No," Ingrid tells him. "It pertains to your personal safety, so you should be involved. If you're comfortable with that," she remembers to add. "Otherwise, Agent Riley and I will take care of it."
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Bucky reminds himself that pissing off Sharon's boss won't do her any good, or him, or Steve, and nods to them.
"Whenever you're ready."
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He's not going to be happy. Not about any of this. But then, neither is she.
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The second the call request chimes on his office screen, he curses himself for a fool and stabs at the icon to accept with more force than strictly needed. "What?" he snaps. "If you're going to tell me he's run off again--"
The image resolves clearly enough for him to see Barnes sitting right there with Riley and Nilsson, and he breathes a slight sigh of relief. "I guess not," he says, grudgingly. "Nilsson. Riley. ...Barnes. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
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