[ it was a lot easier to fight after finally getting some peace of mind when it was weird faceless drooling aliens with literally everyone. steve was there. even, like, a raccoon was there. fighting karli and the flag smashers so far? fine. well, not fine in the slightest but fine in the sense that fighting against them wasn't going to undo every ounce of progress. or any progress, he'd like to think. this, however, created a dissonance with his thinking. just enough to bother him and make every muscle in his body tense up. it was like a reflex and brushing that all off is proving to be significantly difficult when they're still in danger and he has to be ready to defend them. he isn't going to let it happen but a full slip back in, it's at least a bit reassuring there's someone in their trio here that knows all the controls. that's such a fucked up line of thinking.
sam's presence is more reassuring. as out of character as it was at the time, the hand on his arm was an anchor keeping a man's trachea from being crushed before zemo got the act back on track.
he doesn't buy the "fine" and he's a little thankful to know he doesn't but isn't going to pry. he eyes him with a minor annoyance at the addition to his order. sam he does not have money for a tab, thanks. who the hell is paying for this? hopefully no one.
he follows sam's line of sight to zemo. he grabs the second glass. he decides if they get handed a bill, the drinks on that rich bastard. ]
She needed a hobby, I suppose. [ a little half smirk. then someone gets to the bar behind him and there's the slightest nudge. his grip on his glass tightens. he could turn and smash it against his face. the right piece of glass to temple could-
he downs it faster than someone should with this stuff and puts the glass down. probably suspicious to down another. he should nurse any others. ] It does. But the lead was solid.
[ something being easier didn't mean much in their line of work. because somehow, for sam, you had easy and then you had whatever the fuck his life had turned into after letting steve and Natasha hide out in his home. you had your orders and your direction, as a soldier, and then you had whatever the avengers had pulled. in some ways, it was a lot easier to follow steve - he had direction, he had purpose, he had a moral code and an understanding of what was right and everything else was just how to get to that point. now?
now, sam is having trouble grappling with the fact that what karli is fighting for isn't too far off from what he thinks is right. isn't so different from what he's been frustrated with, sitting at home, unable to help his family business. unable to get a freaking loan. but what sam does know is that if there's a super soldier serum and if it's on the black market, that is not something that he can just let sit. overall purpose be damned, that serum would only cause problems if left unsupervised, and at least he and bucky (and even zemo) could all agree with that.
sam continues to nurse his drink, looking out among the dancefloor. picking up the same things that bucky had already clocked - the exists, the groups along the corners, if any bouncers that he could see from here were carrying. he felt a bit naked without any real weapons, but they'd managed to survive lowtown once already tonight, and at least he's now not in heels. ]
Yeah, some kinda hobby. [ he glances over to bucky purely for the sake of the conversation, but it's just in time to see the other person step in behind him. the nudge, and then that tension shooting through him like the cock of a gun. sam gestures off a bit to an empty table - a suggestion that they move before that gun fires - and steps closer to bucky to guide him away. away from the person who'd touched him, and hopefully away to a quieter space. as they walk, sam's voice is low, his eyes still scanning the room. ]
Was it, though? [ a beat, and he huffs out a breath of air. ] Sharon has contacts, yes, I'm not questioning that. I just feel like the timing is too easy. We could be walking into a trap. [ a beat, and then- ] Another one.
[ the serum is the reason he's involved. he forced his way into sam's mission to try and talk sense into him and it turned into this. it could've been any mission sam was on and he would've went along with it to yell at him. then left because he honestly wouldn't give enough of a shit about karli if she hadn't personally kicked him through a car windshield because she took something that shouldn't exist. they're all in agreement there.
he was so far removed from the world and it's only just really sinking in. he should've stayed removed, perhaps. he considers the make and model of the guns under the bar counter from their warped reflection on the glass shelves behind it. sam should've took one of the guns at sharon's. ]
A lucrative one. [ she's doing very well and he never knew her enough to think too much on it. the nudge cut off any further discussion on it in the conversation too, as his nerves are on fire holding himself still. sam's table idea is probably for the best, even if it may not be the most advantageous location in the room. he keeps in step with sam over to it, inhaling and exhaling through his nose. he locks on zemo in the crowd, making sure he still has complete line-of-sight on him. that it's mutual. ]
As solid as we were going to get. [ he states matter-of-factly. he's not disagreeing. ] Trap or not, we'd still be closer than before. The person she described would come collect a bounty in-person, if they're not here for their usual. [ so maybe we're bait and maybe we're not. problem? concerns? ]
[ that's really a question for if the world would have let him remain removed. sam already was inching his way into that space - sending texts he didn't ever, really, think would be responded to. reminding himself he needed to check in, that he should have been doing more - for bucky, for steve's sake. but with his own life and his own problems and his own family, struggling to make ends meet, what he should have done and what he ended up doing were two different things.
and sam should have taken one of sharon's guns. or one of his own. he should have brought something. but for now he's on guard, tense and unsure, and the longer they stay in madripoor the more he's not quite convinced what they're looking will be here. but the fear of inaction worries him more. curls inside his gut like a bad drink. or maybe it's just the snake testicles. he may never know. ]
Well- yeah. Doesn't matter what she ended up doing, she'd find a way to succeed at it. [ and then he moves them both off to the side, away from the bar and that slowly building violence that he can see under bucky's skin. not yet sam almost wants to say. hold it together. he doesn't need to tell bucky what to do, and doesn't want to sound like he is, but there's the remainder of that concern. checking in. he doesn't believe bucky's fine but also hasn't since they reconnected. ]
Yeah- but are we sure the bounty they're collecting isn't our own heads? [ sam frowns, turning to scan the opposite side of the bar from where bucky looks out to. he considers how quickly and how easily they fall into these roles. having each other's back. watching out for the opposite sides. they're a good team, and work well together, whether or not either of them are willing to admit it. ]
And any attention we bring is only going to make it worse. You think we can actually make it out of this without causing another scene?
[ he could mull all day over what they should have done for steve's sake and sam's. those texts that he left on 'read' indicating he at least looked but never responded. maybe if he did, john walker wouldn't be walking around with something that wasn't his because it would've been talked out at length. what was so right about it? he's right, he doesn't understand. but alas, it wasn't talked about because they're both stubborn as shit, trying to conquer issues that are far bigger than themselves, and aren't friends. they should have been friends to help with the other two.
at least sam isn't wearing heels anymore. bucky thinks sam didn't bring anything because he, far too optimistically, thinks not everything has to end in a violent fight like the skeptic beside him. the longer they stay here with the loud music drumming inside his head like gunfire the more convinced there's going to be blood getting cleaned off metal knuckles. ]
Resourceful. Why wasn't she on the Avengers? You couldn't have traded her in for the arrow guy? [ sorry, clint. outside of airports and big group fights against a galactic genocidal murderer, he wasn't in the clique at all. kinda busy. so really what the hell was a guy with a whole family doing there anyway? his poor wife.
he knows what sam's doing. he can read the signals. nothing said, which is more reassuring in a way. but sam probably couldn't stop it if he wanted to should something set off like a grenade. sam would dive on it like steve would anyway - which is concerning. it wouldn't happen, he has the control here, he keeps telling himself like a mantra. but if he didn't, nobody knows how to disable the gun but the guy doing an odd dance under the lights and the months of getting over each and every trigger might have had a horrible side-effect of disabling the ones that make him stop. ]
Nope. Not sure at all. [ 'aren't you feeling better about this?' playing into the tone of the words. utterly sarcastic in the lightness of them. he's considering lighting rig on the ceiling and how cutting that one chain on the west corner of it could make the entire display crush everyone below it. if he gets it to curve he can hit the water feature.
he rolls a shoulder lightly and taps gloved fingers slowly on the table they've relocated to. turns his head to place more attention on sam. they're on the same page, more or less. they got better at this very quickly, like they had always been in sync but just got a bit rusty. ]
He's not going to want a scene either. If we're lucky, we can cut the guy off and take it outside before anyone catches on too hard.
[ their entire lives would be a mess of "what if"s and "should have"s if they allowed themselves to fall down those wells. hell, there should have been something that sam could have done to save riley, if he wanted to get all the way back into that. but it wouldn't do them any good, now, and it definitely doesn't solve their john walker problem, of the bounty on their heads, or a captain america sized hole between them. but if whatever sense of loyalty they have left coupled with their own hard heads leads them to a place where they can fix this, sam will grind his teeth and bare with it. because at least he can agree with bucky about that - they're not friend.
( would he take a bullet for him? yes. and right now he feels like he might have to. but that's besides the point. )
if anything, red wing is never too far. and he knew they would be searched, knew that if he was found with a gun it'd be worse all around. except that longer they're here, the more he sees the tension grow in bucky, and sam thinks that maybe he should have been armed a little more. just a little. just something to even the playing field when bucky, eventually, decides no one else is moving fast enough. ]
Not officially. She worked for the CIA, I think, and was tasked to follow Steve, back before- you know. [ everything. everything that brought bucky, here, and zemo, across the room. sam's eyes drift over to where he's still in the middle of the dance floor, though sam suddenly isn't quite sure he's just dancing. he definiteively decides he doesn't want to know.
he turns back to bucky, shrugging at the mention of clint. sam liked him well enough, sure, but clint barton had a whole roster of things going on that sam didn't care to get into. even if they did, generally, involve natasha. ] And Barton was around long before you and me, so I don't think we would have had vote in the matter. I don't even know for sure if she wasn't officially recruited. Fury was a hard nut to crack.
[ sam takes a drink from the glass, making a face at the taste again. man, this really wasn't good, was it? he shakes his head a bit at the drink, then sets it down on a close table. if bucky wants another drink, he's welcome to that one. sam's decided he's done. and at bucky's easy nope. not sure at all sam snorts, once, shaking his head and tugging at the lapels of his jacket. it's more of a fidget motion, tugging at the jacket, then his sleeves. there's no real reason for it other than sam still doesn't feel good about this. still thinks something is going to go wrong.
bucky's being sarcastic, and sam gives him a look - quick and unimpressed - before he shakes his head. that is when bucky rolls his shoulders, and sam is suddenly a bit more aware. bucky is on edge, but more than that. it feels just like it had in that bar earlier that night. when they hadn't been themselves, when it had ben less bucky and more winter soldier. sam feels himself frown, a bit, but plays it cool. they're just two people at this bar, after all. no matter what it is they're discussing. ]
You think he's going to let us take it outside? This was his location. He feels safe here. He's not going to be easy move. [ sam's eyes scan the room again, before he's back to bucky. there's a bit of tension, there, not for bucky so much as how the room is beginning to feel. how uneasy this whole place has made him feel. ] And you're not gonna go full Winter Soldier on me, are you? 'cause we're not playing any of Zemo's 'roles' right now, and I want to make sure you're fully in there.
[ one of bucky’s problems is that he has been taking a dive down the wells and the amount of should haves pile up in his head amassing guilt to compliment the long list of missionsbodies names he filled steve’s book with. sam’s a walking guilt trip with a dazzling smile. avoiding him makes the well deeper but being in the same room with him has him drowning in it. he wants to crawl his way out and there should’ve been an exit but he can’t even see above murky depths. no hand to help pull him out because he doesn’t have any friends and that’s his fault because he doesn’t know what he’s doing.
he’s following sam and has his back completely and he’s willing to go too far for him. but they’re not friends. not anything. it’s a problem he’s not willing to openly acknowledge right now but they both know it and sam keeps ignoring it to check in anyway.
he hopes this moron doesn’t think to take a bullet for him. he can heal from it a lot faster than sam could. he thinks of protective maneuvers instead of death traps. part of the programming was playing guard dog and shield. a good sniping position for anyone in this room would be up there, a window to a room above the dance floor. he stares at it and only looks away when it’s deemed uncompromised. he finds zemo in the crowd again automatically. waiting for the dancing to pause for an order.
he takes a breath, uneven. insides screaming at such a fleeting thought. bucky looks back at sam. ]
I made a huge mess. [ all that was his doing. or at least he was a good catalyst to it. can he take credit for hydra’s exposure and downfall on a technical level? he’d gladly take that one. also of course they had someone follow steve, the bastards. at least it was someone nice (or she was nice before anyway. kind of mean now.) ] Didn’t know Fury. [ he just flipped his car and shot him. that’s not getting to know someone at all. ] I hope he asked and she turned him down.
[ he does want another drink. he wants exactly five more of those terrible things because that should be enough to give him a buzz for about two minutes. but he doesn’t touch it or seek out another one because as much as he’d like to lose himself in a more pleasant way than what everyone thinks he’s on the edge of doing, they need to stay on high alert. they’re done.
he thinks he might’ve lost a few minutes at sharon’s. he barely remembers changing. barely remembers the part of the ride here if he thinks on it.
his eyes follow sam’s fingers as they fidget over the fine fabric of the jacket. who picked out his outfit? was it Sharon or Sam? it’s nice.
his head tilts his head, a slow cant with his brows furrowing his gaze cool at the frown. the tension in the room is rising exponentially. sam’s very uncomfortable. and a contributing factor is he’s making sam uncomfortable. he scans the crowd again, briefer. ]
He shouldn’t be expecting us right away. We get him on the way in. Nobody said it was going to be easy. [ he turns his head sharply to him, glaring at the question with a sharp defensiveness in his tone. hands ball into fists. ]
[ but that's the whole problem, isn't it? sam doesn't see himself as anything or anyone that bucky needs to make amends with. did they start off on a rocky foot? yes. is thre a complicated sort of alliance that binds them together? definitely. would sam pick bucky as a bud to go out for drinks on a saturday night with? no. (which he will find ironic, down the road. but that sam and this sam are in different places.) but sam also knows himself to know that if he did have the chance to, if bucky would let him, his hand would be there in a heartbeat. reaching out to pull bucky above water. and friends is a complicated moniker, when you're talking about the avengers. sam called steve a friend, yes. and maybe even natasha, whether or not she would do the same. the rest of the group? the people he spent so many years of his life with? he's not so sure.
so maybe he's more willing to sit in the grey, with bucky. maybe whatever this weird thing is that is only now starting to solidify is something that sam can be comfortable with. he doesn't know where it will go, because he doesn't know where bucky will go, who either of them might be by the end of this mission. after all, he'd been the one to suggest long, separation vacations. he'd been the one, upset and frustrated and hurt, by the blame that bucky looked at him with every time they mentioned the shield. but where did that leave them, now? where did that put him, knowing that with each second they're in the city, bucky gets more and more tense? that for every second they're here, sam is seeing more of the man who ripped the steering wheel out of his hands than the one he fought alongside. fights alongside.
sam catches bucky's uneven breath, but again, does say a word. just watches him with a look that says it all - that he's worried. that he's checking in. but that he's not going to ask again, so soon after. but bucky keeps talking so sam just nods, snorting once at the mess comment. ] Yeah, you sure did. [ but it's said with some levity, a kind of admission that whatever mess that brought them all together, isn't really that important anymore. not in the sense of bucky's guilt, not in the sense that sam really, truthfully, cares all that much. it all happened, and it was messy, but by the end they all had a part to play. ] I think she was a member of SHIELD before that all fell apart too. But she might have. Wouldn't put it past her.
[ sam had liked sharon - not just because steve had. she was smart, she had guts, and she turned up when she needed to. there weren't many people like that, especially not where government jobs were concerned, and the fact she'd been out here on her own since all of that sits heavily in his chest. he knows there's not a lot more he could have done, knows there isn't much to do about it now, other than that pardon. he eyes the glass, thinking that maybe he does want that drink after all. if only becuase bucky hasn't taken it yet.
but he doesn't, and instead goes to fidget with his suit, the fabric smooth and expensive under his fingertips. part of him wants to wonder why sharon had so much mens clothing just, lying around, but he puses the thought away before a rabbit hole could even be formed. ] As long as we don't make a scene. This is one of Sharon's contacts. We can't screw this up.
[ not that they will. that's not what sam is worried about. for a moment he tries to look at the room differently - the people he needs to look out for. the possible cross-fire that could happen. there's a thought that floats in suddenly, a what would steve do if he were here, but as quickly as it appears, it is gone.
bucky turns, sharply, to sam then and brings his attention back - a dark look, an edge of defensiveness. bucky's hands ball into fists and sam's eyes glance towards them, then back to bucky's eyes, holding them without much hesitation. for a moment, sam simply holds the look - not backing down. he feels an urge to buck back up against the glare, to tense his jaw and hold steady, but in the next exhale he lets that go. ] Okay. [ he says. simply. what goes unsaid is the i believe you. what goes unsaid is the i trust you. because, really, that is all he needed to hear. after another moment, sam just nods, once, ending the discussion.
and it happens to be that same moment that a few men walk in through the front door. the movement catches sam's eyes, and when he looks over to check, his body goes tense. ] They're here.
[ He failed Sam (how? not being around? Not answering a text? Not giving enough support?). Failing Sam has become intricately and very dangerously intertwined with the the shield and Steve in his head. Now failing Sam means failing Steve. Sam is who he left the world with and he was going to support it even if the fact that he thought to leave the world at all feels like there’s a knife in his heart that’s been forcing blood to pool in his chest cavity for months. He doesn’t carry resentment at Sam for it. Or hadn’t until John Walker started strutting around like the world was left to him instead and every doubt had bubbled over.
Failing Steve means he’s is not James Buchanan Barnes because that is not something he’d willingly do. That would be someone else and he’d rather die than be someone else again. Steve insisted Bucky was worth existing, which he had not believed at first and believes less every second he exists without him. And that’s the only the reason he’s still here. He has to fix this or he’s not Bucky.
Bucky’s eyes shut, listening to the music and the room and the footsteps. He zeroes in on Sam's breathing and just copies it to even out. ] Yeah. [ He won't apologize for the results. Just pieces of how they got there. He feels bad about most of it. Hurting any of them (maybe not whoever it was he threw in front of a truck. fuck that guy.) ] Sorry I ripped your wing off and then kicked you off a ledge twenty-five thousand feet in the air, by the way. [ The tone is flat in response to the levity Sam has - dry delivery. He it's said with a tone knowing that's water under the bridge, as so few things are. ] That makes sense. She's legacy. Peggy Carter's... [ Drawing a blank. ] -Daughter? No, that wasn't it. [ He stares at a spot on the floor, searching for the answer. Sam and Steve told him this in the car.
He can't remember. ] Shit. [ Another breath. A hint of panic. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter. Move on. It's a little detail. He remembers everything else. Right? No. Sharon would be so judgmental right now. 'Pet Psychopath'. He never thanked her for helping them at all. Steve should've thanked her with his mouth more. Actually it's pretty fucked to go kissing Sharon when he was in love with her aunt. Oh wait. ] Aunt. [ He shakes his head, shifting his shoulders again. Leaning on the table. Locating Zemo again- Putting focus intentionally back on Sam. Sam who checks in. Sam who he can't fail right now. ]
I know. [ They're not going to screw it up. Not intentionally, anyway. And not from a lack of cooperation. They're all working rather well - too well - which means, in theory, this is going to be a successful mission.
The edge is palpable. He holds the gaze Sam gives him, looking at him with defensiveness, a little resentment. If he fails Sam, he fails Steve and if Sam doesn't believe him then no one does. His shoulders drop and the hard dark look softens, a wire being gently unrolled instead of snapping under the pressure. Okay and a nod. And there's ... a wave a calm.
He turns his head with Sam's eyes and the tension seeps back in but it's manageable. He nods at him. He won't fail. ]
And they don't know we're here yet. [ They're closer to the exit he wants them to move towards. The man is positioned perfectly for cutting his route off. He locates Zemo again, out of necessity. He goes to give him a signal but stops, head turning to another people move in the entranceway he wanted to move the men out of. Incredibly well-dressed, armed, and pissed. Smiling Tiger's men out to get whoever was impersonating him and getting a bounty on their boss' head. Bucky takes two steps over, positioning himself to block their sight of Sam. ]
[ walker brought in an entirely different layer of complications that sam had hoped they wouldn't have to face. being disappointed by the government is something sam always manages to forget is normal. this feeling of his country, letting him down. that's so normal that he almost forgets there could be a different option. except that steve showed him there could be another option, and now sam feels like his every day is an exercise in reminding himself that he can't trust america. couldn't before, and still can't. not when - when given the chance - they create and assign men like john walker. kids, like john walker. and sam couldn't possibly let himself feel guilty for that, but that doesn't make it any easier to swallow, either.
but he can deal with this, first. he can meet sharon's contacts and they can figure out where to get the serum and he can stop this first. then he can worry about the implications of john walker, captain america. god, even his name sounds similar enough to fit the role.
bucky closes his eyes. has that kind of tension in him that comes around when he talks about his time as the winter soldier. sam almost feels bad about it, but the part of him that knows what it is to talk about trauma, who has done this dance before with different soldiers, different wars, knows it would be worse to shy away from it. so sam just stays casual. doesn't let the memory of what happened, or the stress of the situation at hand, change anything about his tone or breathing. bucky apologizes, and the tone is flat, so sam snorts back in response. shakes his head. they both know they're beyond that. hell - sam ended up on the raft just to help bucky. but a part of him is...what? touched? a part of him clocks the apology. is appreciative of it. even if it doesn't matter anymore. ]
Yeah, well. Apparently you made a good enough impression.{ another joke, another comment made with levity. it's what is easiest between them, really - bucky's flat tone. sam's insistence on smiling in response. when bucky starts trying to place sharon, sam simply waits. lets him work through it until he gets to the right answer. his brows are up, waiting for him to get there, and when he does sam huffs out a kind of laugh, nodding. ] Can't imagine anyone with Peggy Carter as an aunt wouldn't end up in some kind of government job with a gun.
[ and then, for a few moments, everything is okay. sam makes eye contact with bucky, reaffirms for him that yes, he trusts him, and that tension leaves bucky in a single exhale. sam finds himself smiling a little at the moment, confidence seeping back into him like warm breeze.
and then the moment is gone. tension is back. they've entered the bar, and there are others - people not with them, that sam catches. bucky must also, because he steps between sam and the door. he frowns, confused for a moment, looking to the back of bucky's head before he can try and adjust. be cool, trust him, it's fine. even if he can't really see who they are, he trusts bucky. even if the two steps bring a questioning look up to him.
still, sam plays the part. looks like he and bucky are just members at the bar. two people, who happen to be here together. ] What's happening, Buck? [ low, just under his breath. sam decides to go for the glass, now, looking casual, taking another sip. ] Did he bring backup?
[ walker is an unsurprising product of something that’s failed them both. (the government recruited armin fucking zola, a man who gleefully tortured him, to do science for them and nobody saw that hydra thing coming?) and the thought that sam wilson, who should have known better than bucky even - a different perspective that he’s not blind to even if bucky is not connecting every dot, thought for a second to put faith in it and trust that a man like john walker wouldn’t get created seemed like a personal insult. it’s not sam’s fault. but he should have known. steve and sam both - stupid fucking idiots putting faith in things they shouldn’t. he’s so tired. but he won’t rest. not until it’s right.
he’s listening, carefully. composing himself in the best way he can. sam’s breathing stayed even - did he notice? sam snorts in response to the half-assed apology and he wonders if it meant anything to him. probably not. never will. all in the past and it’s too little, too late. sam probably thinks he doesn’t need to apologize for anything anyway because sam’s an idiot. ]
The bar was really low, huh? [ it’s an easy dynamic they have, have had for years. conversations that consist of witty little remarks with the driest of execution. do they like each other? not really but they certainly share a similar sense of humor. and respect each-other. he appreciates the patience and not having it shoved in his face how hard it was to find a bit of information. he rubs his brow with a thumb then drops it, letting out a huff of a laugh. ] Geez, that’s depressing. I hope one of her relatives turned to art or something.
[ for a moment, everything is fine. then it’s not - but he has something very clear through the danger to anchor on, if just a little. a small fraction of calm. but it matters. things are easier knowing the person next to him doesn’t think he’ll slip up. trust is one of the hardest things in the world to come by. what he once had in abundance - a whole teams worth of comrades, friends was stripped down to one person that believed him and everyone willing to back that person up. then two people. (Three? Did Natasha believe him? He’ll never know...) now, back to one. one that just removed doubt that the number was zero. he has to keep that trust.
he distinctly remembers telling sam he wasn’t allowed to call him “buck” - he couldn’t care less that it was ignored right now. ]
No, that’s not it. We’re going to have to move. [ low, whispered. zemo is still over there. sam isn’t armed. the crew starts fanning out to search. tension is tripled.
the person currently in charge or under the soldier’s protection must be armed at all times. if the handler or person under the soldier’s protection is not armed, a weapon will be provided by the soldier even if the soldier must relinquish a weapon to do so.
bucky twists on the heels of his feet to turn face sam straight on and takes a step forward to put them close together. he leans forward in a motion that can look far too casual, a flirt. a hand running over the front of sam’s very nice jacket. pretending to smooth it out - a knife slipped out of bucky’s left sleeve and passed to sam. his head cocked in a way that still blocks the view but sam can peek and look. a blade tucked in a front pocket in one motion. a discrete slight of hand. he pats the spot after so sam can feel it - know what he did. yup. just two people at the bar together. who happen to be together. in madripoor, anything goes. ]
How close to that guy did Zemo say you looked again?
[ sam had made his decision some time ago, and while each and every moment leading up to that speech at the smithsonian had been a practice in questioning himself, he'd come to the conclusion that it was for the best. symbols were dangerous. symbols were heavy. symbols, if given too much power, could be just as damning as the men they tried to put away. that's what sam had been afraid of, that's what sam had been trying to avoid by putting the shield away. he'd just assumed he'd have a little more time before the us government chose to disappoint him again. and maybe there had been a part of him that thought things would be different. maybe, a desperate, hopefuly part had thought that the blip had changed anything at all.
he should have known better. he does know better. but he's also been a cog in the military complex machine for far too long than to be surprised by his own disappointment. john walker is a mess for another day. one step at a time. ]
You had good references. [ do they like each other? that's really the question, isn't it? because there are a hundred fights sam could be fighting right now. wars upon wars from both ends of his life. but does he like bucky barnes is a question he hasn't even, really, asked himself. the man infuriates him. frustrates him to the point of wanting to toss everything out the side of the plane. but he's thankful he's here all the same. is comfortable in this back and forth, if nothing else.
the ghost of steve still hangs heavy, between them, over them. sam cannot outrun the memory of the advice he'd given steve that day, even if it had come with only partial information. he's the kind you stop. it's an added weight to the stack of things sam goes to sleep guilty about, every night, but what else is new. ] Every family has a black sheep. Plus with the Carter name? I'm sure acting was right up their wheelhouse. [ sam is still laughing a bit to himself at the image - he didn't know sharon, or peggy for that matter, beyond their importance to steve. he'd sat at that funeral for steve, noting the overlapping circles of names. of people, that the carters seemed to touch. maybe he could have paid better attention, but his focus had been pulled, and sam's not sorry for that.
and then there is the shift. sam sees the tension slides out over bucky's shoulders like a new suit, a jacket slipped on over him. he says we're going to have to move in the kind of voice sam recognizes as dangerous. he's on edge too, now, aware of his lack of weapon. aware that zemo is all the way across the room. he opens his mouth to ask what bucky sees, how many are there, what's the plan, but that is when bucky turns.
they're suddenly very, very close. sam is a bit taken off-guard by it, a glass on one hand and now bucky all but along his front. bucky leans forward and sam's heart-rate spikes, distant thoughts of um.....what.....? creeping somewhere through the confusion. but then bucky's hand is on the lapel of his jacket, and some thing is slipped inside. sam is watching bucky with probably more concern than is necessary, until bucky's head cocks to one side and sam gets a glimpse of what bucky is reacting to, and oh. oh. suddenly, sam doesn't mind the proximity nearly as much, and in that moment of understanding comes an easy shift back to...what? flirtation? bucky's hand is still on sam's chest, and distantly he wonders if he can feel how fast his heart is beating. ]
I saw the picture myself - pretty damn close. [ and then sam smiles, something sly and fluid and in character., as his eyes come back to bucky's. there's an echo of steve, somewhere in the back of sam's had. and then she said public displays of affection make people uncomfortable. if they could only see them now. ]
We can't take them without causing a scene. [ his voice is low, but the expression on his face is still a part of the act. his body language leaning towards bucky, rather than away. just as bucky planned, after all. two people at a bar together. who happen to be together. together, in the same way that sam keeps watching bucky's face, there being something inherently coy, no matter his words. no matter how much his heart is beating, not just because of the newly introduced danger. but that's for another time, too. ] Can we get the contact out of here before they notice?
[ ready to follow captain america into the jaws of death? hell no. symbols can overshadow people behind them if left unchecked. zemo is someone who puts words to this thought process. notes there's flaws that get forgotten with symbols. the pedestals they get put on. that's why it's so important the symbol is someone responsible in charge of it. bucky is used to going to sleep and waking up in a different era. the blip was nothing to him. he did that for years and years and years so what's five more? so he cannot possibly understand the level sam is going to unless he lets go of the symbol and looks at the person that's supposed to hold it. right now he's having difficulty seeing past it. ]
Outdated ones. [ sam can be infuriating but that's part of his odd sort of charm. in a masochistic sort of way, he likes being called out on his shit. does he want to slap sam across the face? a little bit. but he's here and he's not having the worst time of his life. entire trauma being brought to the surface and his crumbling unstable mental state aside, he is outside socializing with people. proud of him, therapist? every rule is broken but whatever. what else is new. ] An actor in there wouldn't be surprising. [ there's a visual in his head. something recalled of margaret carter, director of shield, lying through her teeth thanking the men beside her for wonderful contributions. he remembers being angry about how her red lips, viewed from the sights of a rifle, were in a convincing smile. acting like everything's fine, there was no history she despised, and continued shaking hands with the then-aged scientist bucky has the face of branded into his head. acting. one of the men next to them has his head jerk back with a stream of red after she moves out of the way. evidence to frame someone else in place, the soldier then returns to a place under her very feet, filled with far more rage than before and has it stripped from him why.
twelve. seven on the right, five on the left but they're fanned out. too far apart and covering too much ground to just slip past without being noticed. he sees one nod to another. bucky gets even closer than before, feigning a half-smile. a corner of his lip bit to be inviting while his eyes are too alert, too aware of the room. sam doesn't immediately roll with this right away and it's almost funny to see the shock and confusion. charming in it's own way. he hopes nobody saw it. they have an act going and it buys time. he can hear thumping and isn't sure if it's the music, his own ears pounding from getting ready to take action - to hurt someone or if it's sam's heart he's feeling speed up through his hand becoming audible. ]
That's unfortunate. You couldn't have picked a different doppelganger? [ bucky states, left arm moving and being rested on sam's shoulder. two behind. very close. one is looking their way. the other is getting close enough to be within arms reach. a gloved hand is on the back of sam's neck. sam is leaning in. bucky leaning back. ] No. If Zemo gets to him while everyone's distracted, we can still get the intel. [ he noticed zemo started moving the second bucky stepped closer to sam. the dance floor abandoned. he has no idea where he went but it's presumably to reach their contact.
bucky has them chest to chest, a hand on sam's hip. posture for an intimate dance. his eyes flicker to sam's lips then behind him. the closer man, readying his weapon. sam and bucky, looking like a kiss about to happen. wouldn't that be something? to give something that wasn't pain right now? the hand on sam's neck moves up to the back of sam's head, as if to push forward and connect them. instead it's used to deflect a bullet.
all at once that tension building up snaps. the entire club erupts. the hand on his hip moves to the shirt and yanks him behind him before being removed from his person. the glass is taken and smashed into the face of the shooter. their table is grabbed and swung like it's a hammer into the second man, denting on impact. ]
mobile tagging means if you see typos, no you didn't
[ sam doesn't want to be that symbol, and that's the heart of his issue. he knows what it's supposed to stand for, in the modern view of the ideal. steve rogers had been everything america needed in the midst of world war two. had been everything america needed, again, with the attack on new york. steve rogers has been captain america, and now steve rogers was gone. sam was content with his place in things, now that he was back to existing. he was content with his falcon wings and his contacts with rhodey and working with the air force again. but john did not deserve that shield, that both he and bucky would agree on. he just wasn't sure - yet - what to do about it.
bucky grumbles something about outdated references and sam nearly rolls his eyes. because okay, fine, yes. he was actually paying bucky a compliment. could he take the half-assed acceptance that sam didn't, actually, regret having him at his side? that he was actually starting to see the benefit in the two of them working together? because if sam is infuriating, bucky is on an entirely different realm of frustratingly annoying and sam is more than happy to explain why. ]
It got you through the interview, didn't it?
[ sam's carter connection had been sharon, but he can only guess at what bucky had known about peggy. what bucky had thought. he'd been there from the beginning, after all, hadn't he? someone steve would actually talk to? say more than just his captain america comments and a quick glance down to a photo he actually thought no on noticed? sam doesn't blame steve for holding onto an old flame. but there was so much more to the carters than any of them ever could understand, and sam's not sure steve needed to know or see into the levels that family reached.
but he needed to focus. they both needed to focus, but sam is pretty sure bucky is already there - counting bodies, calculating moves. and actually, sam is kind of depending on it, on bucky's tactical awareness of their movements. they're still close enough that each time sam takes a breath, he just about feels bucky's chest pressed against him. he's close enough to catch the smile and sam works to find his footing in all of this, but his eyes are only on bucky, as he's not sure it makes sense for him to scan the room. so he lets trust take over, lets bucky assess. it's still a bit surprising to feel bucky's arm rest on sam's shoulder, to feel the gloved hand on the back of his neck. he feels his cheeks heat up, but he is going to chalk that entirely up to the rising adrenaline of a potential fight. ]
Pretty sure the whole point of dopplegangers is you don't get to pick them. And it worked of us earlier. [ for a short while. but not long, and that's a whole different issue sam is going to have to deal with. for now, it's the contact, it's the unsteady feeling of having to trust zemo to already be moving and have caught onto the plan. sam's mind is starting to speed up, to try and keep up with the quick movements of bucky's eyes. ]
You think he can do it? [ he means zemo, he means the contact, but now bucky is closer still and his eyes are on sam's and okay, alright, the flutter in his chest isn't entirely the fight this time and sam is man enough to admit that. bucky's hand shifts to the back of his head and they're leaning in closer, sam's grin still present and cocky, like someone finally getting the one thing they'd been working towards. in that moment he realizes that yes, actually, he would kiss bucky. could, wouldn't mind. if they kiss. if this is what is about to happen.
that is when it changes - a snap of twine, a switch flicked. he hears the gunshot and feels the pang on the back of his head and then bucky is jerking sam out of the way. he goes with the yank, ducking down behind another table and emerging just as one tries to approach bucky from behind. sam picks up his own bottle, then, crashing it against the back of his head and reaching for the gun, turning back to where the most of the group was still collected.
avoid civilians he can't tell if he yells it at bucky or not, but the thought is there, and sam lets off the rest of the rounds of the gun only towards those he can immediately identify, before ditching the empty weapon and diving behind another table he'd knocked over in the process. ]
We need to leave! [ this one he's sure he yells aloud in bucky's direction, distracted by the gunfire pinging off the table he's hiding behind. ]
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sam's presence is more reassuring. as out of character as it was at the time, the hand on his arm was an anchor keeping a man's trachea from being crushed before zemo got the act back on track.
he doesn't buy the "fine" and he's a little thankful to know he doesn't but isn't going to pry. he eyes him with a minor annoyance at the addition to his order. sam he does not have money for a tab, thanks. who the hell is paying for this? hopefully no one.
he follows sam's line of sight to zemo. he grabs the second glass. he decides if they get handed a bill, the drinks on that rich bastard. ]
She needed a hobby, I suppose. [ a little half smirk. then someone gets to the bar behind him and there's the slightest nudge. his grip on his glass tightens. he could turn and smash it against his face. the right piece of glass to temple could-
he downs it faster than someone should with this stuff and puts the glass down. probably suspicious to down another. he should nurse any others. ] It does. But the lead was solid.
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now, sam is having trouble grappling with the fact that what karli is fighting for isn't too far off from what he thinks is right. isn't so different from what he's been frustrated with, sitting at home, unable to help his family business. unable to get a freaking loan. but what sam does know is that if there's a super soldier serum and if it's on the black market, that is not something that he can just let sit. overall purpose be damned, that serum would only cause problems if left unsupervised, and at least he and bucky (and even zemo) could all agree with that.
sam continues to nurse his drink, looking out among the dancefloor. picking up the same things that bucky had already clocked - the exists, the groups along the corners, if any bouncers that he could see from here were carrying. he felt a bit naked without any real weapons, but they'd managed to survive lowtown once already tonight, and at least he's now not in heels. ]
Yeah, some kinda hobby. [ he glances over to bucky purely for the sake of the conversation, but it's just in time to see the other person step in behind him. the nudge, and then that tension shooting through him like the cock of a gun. sam gestures off a bit to an empty table - a suggestion that they move before that gun fires - and steps closer to bucky to guide him away. away from the person who'd touched him, and hopefully away to a quieter space. as they walk, sam's voice is low, his eyes still scanning the room. ]
Was it, though? [ a beat, and he huffs out a breath of air. ] Sharon has contacts, yes, I'm not questioning that. I just feel like the timing is too easy. We could be walking into a trap. [ a beat, and then- ] Another one.
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he was so far removed from the world and it's only just really sinking in. he should've stayed removed, perhaps. he considers the make and model of the guns under the bar counter from their warped reflection on the glass shelves behind it. sam should've took one of the guns at sharon's. ]
A lucrative one. [ she's doing very well and he never knew her enough to think too much on it. the nudge cut off any further discussion on it in the conversation too, as his nerves are on fire holding himself still. sam's table idea is probably for the best, even if it may not be the most advantageous location in the room. he keeps in step with sam over to it, inhaling and exhaling through his nose. he locks on zemo in the crowd, making sure he still has complete line-of-sight on him. that it's mutual. ]
As solid as we were going to get. [ he states matter-of-factly. he's not disagreeing. ] Trap or not, we'd still be closer than before. The person she described would come collect a bounty in-person, if they're not here for their usual. [ so maybe we're bait and maybe we're not. problem? concerns? ]
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and sam should have taken one of sharon's guns. or one of his own. he should have brought something. but for now he's on guard, tense and unsure, and the longer they stay in madripoor the more he's not quite convinced what they're looking will be here. but the fear of inaction worries him more. curls inside his gut like a bad drink. or maybe it's just the snake testicles. he may never know. ]
Well- yeah. Doesn't matter what she ended up doing, she'd find a way to succeed at it. [ and then he moves them both off to the side, away from the bar and that slowly building violence that he can see under bucky's skin. not yet sam almost wants to say. hold it together. he doesn't need to tell bucky what to do, and doesn't want to sound like he is, but there's the remainder of that concern. checking in. he doesn't believe bucky's fine but also hasn't since they reconnected. ]
Yeah- but are we sure the bounty they're collecting isn't our own heads? [ sam frowns, turning to scan the opposite side of the bar from where bucky looks out to. he considers how quickly and how easily they fall into these roles. having each other's back. watching out for the opposite sides. they're a good team, and work well together, whether or not either of them are willing to admit it. ]
And any attention we bring is only going to make it worse. You think we can actually make it out of this without causing another scene?
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at least sam isn't wearing heels anymore. bucky thinks sam didn't bring anything because he, far too optimistically, thinks not everything has to end in a violent fight like the skeptic beside him. the longer they stay here with the loud music drumming inside his head like gunfire the more convinced there's going to be blood getting cleaned off metal knuckles. ]
Resourceful. Why wasn't she on the Avengers? You couldn't have traded her in for the arrow guy? [ sorry, clint. outside of airports and big group fights against a galactic genocidal murderer, he wasn't in the clique at all. kinda busy. so really what the hell was a guy with a whole family doing there anyway? his poor wife.
he knows what sam's doing. he can read the signals. nothing said, which is more reassuring in a way. but sam probably couldn't stop it if he wanted to should something set off like a grenade. sam would dive on it like steve would anyway - which is concerning. it wouldn't happen, he has the control here, he keeps telling himself like a mantra. but if he didn't, nobody knows how to disable the gun but the guy doing an odd dance under the lights and the months of getting over each and every trigger might have had a horrible side-effect of disabling the ones that make him stop. ]
Nope. Not sure at all. [ 'aren't you feeling better about this?' playing into the tone of the words. utterly sarcastic in the lightness of them. he's considering lighting rig on the ceiling and how cutting that one chain on the west corner of it could make the entire display crush everyone below it. if he gets it to curve he can hit the water feature.
he rolls a shoulder lightly and taps gloved fingers slowly on the table they've relocated to. turns his head to place more attention on sam. they're on the same page, more or less. they got better at this very quickly, like they had always been in sync but just got a bit rusty. ]
He's not going to want a scene either. If we're lucky, we can cut the guy off and take it outside before anyone catches on too hard.
[ they haven't been very lucky though. ]
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( would he take a bullet for him? yes. and right now he feels like he might have to. but that's besides the point. )
if anything, red wing is never too far. and he knew they would be searched, knew that if he was found with a gun it'd be worse all around. except that longer they're here, the more he sees the tension grow in bucky, and sam thinks that maybe he should have been armed a little more. just a little. just something to even the playing field when bucky, eventually, decides no one else is moving fast enough. ]
Not officially. She worked for the CIA, I think, and was tasked to follow Steve, back before- you know. [ everything. everything that brought bucky, here, and zemo, across the room. sam's eyes drift over to where he's still in the middle of the dance floor, though sam suddenly isn't quite sure he's just dancing. he definiteively decides he doesn't want to know.
he turns back to bucky, shrugging at the mention of clint. sam liked him well enough, sure, but clint barton had a whole roster of things going on that sam didn't care to get into. even if they did, generally, involve natasha. ] And Barton was around long before you and me, so I don't think we would have had vote in the matter. I don't even know for sure if she wasn't officially recruited. Fury was a hard nut to crack.
[ sam takes a drink from the glass, making a face at the taste again. man, this really wasn't good, was it? he shakes his head a bit at the drink, then sets it down on a close table. if bucky wants another drink, he's welcome to that one. sam's decided he's done. and at bucky's easy nope. not sure at all sam snorts, once, shaking his head and tugging at the lapels of his jacket. it's more of a fidget motion, tugging at the jacket, then his sleeves. there's no real reason for it other than sam still doesn't feel good about this. still thinks something is going to go wrong.
bucky's being sarcastic, and sam gives him a look - quick and unimpressed - before he shakes his head. that is when bucky rolls his shoulders, and sam is suddenly a bit more aware. bucky is on edge, but more than that. it feels just like it had in that bar earlier that night. when they hadn't been themselves, when it had ben less bucky and more winter soldier. sam feels himself frown, a bit, but plays it cool. they're just two people at this bar, after all. no matter what it is they're discussing. ]
You think he's going to let us take it outside? This was his location. He feels safe here. He's not going to be easy move. [ sam's eyes scan the room again, before he's back to bucky. there's a bit of tension, there, not for bucky so much as how the room is beginning to feel. how uneasy this whole place has made him feel. ] And you're not gonna go full Winter Soldier on me, are you? 'cause we're not playing any of Zemo's 'roles' right now, and I want to make sure you're fully in there.
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missionsbodiesnames he filled steve’s book with. sam’s a walking guilt trip with a dazzling smile. avoiding him makes the well deeper but being in the same room with him has him drowning in it. he wants to crawl his way out and there should’ve been an exit but he can’t even see above murky depths. no hand to help pull him out because he doesn’t have any friends and that’s his fault because he doesn’t know what he’s doing.he’s following sam and has his back completely and he’s willing to go too far for him. but they’re not friends. not anything. it’s a problem he’s not willing to openly acknowledge right now but they both know it and sam keeps ignoring it to check in anyway.
he hopes this moron doesn’t think to take a bullet for him. he can heal from it a lot faster than sam could. he thinks of protective maneuvers instead of death traps. part of the programming was playing guard dog and shield. a good sniping position for anyone in this room would be up there, a window to a room above the dance floor. he stares at it and only looks away when it’s deemed uncompromised. he finds zemo in the crowd again automatically. waiting for the dancing to pause for an order.
he takes a breath, uneven. insides screaming at such a fleeting thought. bucky looks back at sam. ]
I made a huge mess. [ all that was his doing. or at least he was a good catalyst to it. can he take credit for hydra’s exposure and downfall on a technical level? he’d gladly take that one. also of course they had someone follow steve, the bastards. at least it was someone nice (or she was nice before anyway. kind of mean now.) ] Didn’t know Fury. [ he just flipped his car and shot him. that’s not getting to know someone at all. ] I hope he asked and she turned him down.
[ he does want another drink. he wants exactly five more of those terrible things because that should be enough to give him a buzz for about two minutes. but he doesn’t touch it or seek out another one because as much as he’d like to lose himself in a more pleasant way than what everyone thinks he’s on the edge of doing, they need to stay on high alert. they’re done.
he thinks he might’ve lost a few minutes at sharon’s. he barely remembers changing. barely remembers the part of the ride here if he thinks on it.
his eyes follow sam’s fingers as they fidget over the fine fabric of the jacket. who picked out his outfit? was it Sharon or Sam? it’s nice.
his head tilts his head, a slow cant with his brows furrowing his gaze cool at the frown. the tension in the room is rising exponentially. sam’s very uncomfortable. and a contributing factor is he’s making sam uncomfortable. he scans the crowd again, briefer. ]
He shouldn’t be expecting us right away. We get him on the way in. Nobody said it was going to be easy. [ he turns his head sharply to him, glaring at the question with a sharp defensiveness in his tone. hands ball into fists. ]
I’m not. I’m with you.
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so maybe he's more willing to sit in the grey, with bucky. maybe whatever this weird thing is that is only now starting to solidify is something that sam can be comfortable with. he doesn't know where it will go, because he doesn't know where bucky will go, who either of them might be by the end of this mission. after all, he'd been the one to suggest long, separation vacations. he'd been the one, upset and frustrated and hurt, by the blame that bucky looked at him with every time they mentioned the shield. but where did that leave them, now? where did that put him, knowing that with each second they're in the city, bucky gets more and more tense? that for every second they're here, sam is seeing more of the man who ripped the steering wheel out of his hands than the one he fought alongside. fights alongside.
sam catches bucky's uneven breath, but again, does say a word. just watches him with a look that says it all - that he's worried. that he's checking in. but that he's not going to ask again, so soon after. but bucky keeps talking so sam just nods, snorting once at the mess comment. ] Yeah, you sure did. [ but it's said with some levity, a kind of admission that whatever mess that brought them all together, isn't really that important anymore. not in the sense of bucky's guilt, not in the sense that sam really, truthfully, cares all that much. it all happened, and it was messy, but by the end they all had a part to play. ] I think she was a member of SHIELD before that all fell apart too. But she might have. Wouldn't put it past her.
[ sam had liked sharon - not just because steve had. she was smart, she had guts, and she turned up when she needed to. there weren't many people like that, especially not where government jobs were concerned, and the fact she'd been out here on her own since all of that sits heavily in his chest. he knows there's not a lot more he could have done, knows there isn't much to do about it now, other than that pardon. he eyes the glass, thinking that maybe he does want that drink after all. if only becuase bucky hasn't taken it yet.
but he doesn't, and instead goes to fidget with his suit, the fabric smooth and expensive under his fingertips. part of him wants to wonder why sharon had so much mens clothing just, lying around, but he puses the thought away before a rabbit hole could even be formed. ] As long as we don't make a scene. This is one of Sharon's contacts. We can't screw this up.
[ not that they will. that's not what sam is worried about. for a moment he tries to look at the room differently - the people he needs to look out for. the possible cross-fire that could happen. there's a thought that floats in suddenly, a what would steve do if he were here, but as quickly as it appears, it is gone.
bucky turns, sharply, to sam then and brings his attention back - a dark look, an edge of defensiveness. bucky's hands ball into fists and sam's eyes glance towards them, then back to bucky's eyes, holding them without much hesitation. for a moment, sam simply holds the look - not backing down. he feels an urge to buck back up against the glare, to tense his jaw and hold steady, but in the next exhale he lets that go. ] Okay. [ he says. simply. what goes unsaid is the i believe you. what goes unsaid is the i trust you. because, really, that is all he needed to hear. after another moment, sam just nods, once, ending the discussion.
and it happens to be that same moment that a few men walk in through the front door. the movement catches sam's eyes, and when he looks over to check, his body goes tense. ] They're here.
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Failing Steve means he’s is not James Buchanan Barnes because that is not something he’d willingly do. That would be someone else and he’d rather die than be someone else again. Steve insisted Bucky was worth existing, which he had not believed at first and believes less every second he exists without him. And that’s the only the reason he’s still here. He has to fix this or he’s not Bucky.
Bucky’s eyes shut, listening to the music and the room and the footsteps. He zeroes in on Sam's breathing and just copies it to even out. ] Yeah. [ He won't apologize for the results. Just pieces of how they got there. He feels bad about most of it. Hurting any of them (maybe not whoever it was he threw in front of a truck. fuck that guy.) ] Sorry I ripped your wing off and then kicked you off a ledge twenty-five thousand feet in the air, by the way. [ The tone is flat in response to the levity Sam has - dry delivery. He it's said with a tone knowing that's water under the bridge, as so few things are. ] That makes sense. She's legacy. Peggy Carter's... [ Drawing a blank. ] -Daughter? No, that wasn't it. [ He stares at a spot on the floor, searching for the answer. Sam and Steve told him this in the car.
He can't remember. ] Shit. [ Another breath. A hint of panic. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter. Move on. It's a little detail. He remembers everything else. Right? No. Sharon would be so judgmental right now. 'Pet Psychopath'. He never thanked her for helping them at all. Steve should've thanked her with his mouth more. Actually it's pretty fucked to go kissing Sharon when he was in love with her aunt. Oh wait. ] Aunt. [ He shakes his head, shifting his shoulders again. Leaning on the table. Locating Zemo again- Putting focus intentionally back on Sam. Sam who checks in. Sam who he can't fail right now. ]
I know. [ They're not going to screw it up. Not intentionally, anyway. And not from a lack of cooperation. They're all working rather well - too well - which means, in theory, this is going to be a successful mission.
The edge is palpable. He holds the gaze Sam gives him, looking at him with defensiveness, a little resentment. If he fails Sam, he fails Steve and if Sam doesn't believe him then no one does. His shoulders drop and the hard dark look softens, a wire being gently unrolled instead of snapping under the pressure. Okay and a nod. And there's ... a wave a calm.
He turns his head with Sam's eyes and the tension seeps back in but it's manageable. He nods at him. He won't fail. ]
And they don't know we're here yet. [ They're closer to the exit he wants them to move towards. The man is positioned perfectly for cutting his route off. He locates Zemo again, out of necessity. He goes to give him a signal but stops, head turning to another people move in the entranceway he wanted to move the men out of. Incredibly well-dressed, armed, and pissed. Smiling Tiger's men out to get whoever was impersonating him and getting a bounty on their boss' head. Bucky takes two steps over, positioning himself to block their sight of Sam. ]
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but he can deal with this, first. he can meet sharon's contacts and they can figure out where to get the serum and he can stop this first. then he can worry about the implications of john walker, captain america. god, even his name sounds similar enough to fit the role.
bucky closes his eyes. has that kind of tension in him that comes around when he talks about his time as the winter soldier. sam almost feels bad about it, but the part of him that knows what it is to talk about trauma, who has done this dance before with different soldiers, different wars, knows it would be worse to shy away from it. so sam just stays casual. doesn't let the memory of what happened, or the stress of the situation at hand, change anything about his tone or breathing. bucky apologizes, and the tone is flat, so sam snorts back in response. shakes his head. they both know they're beyond that. hell - sam ended up on the raft just to help bucky. but a part of him is...what? touched? a part of him clocks the apology. is appreciative of it. even if it doesn't matter anymore. ]
Yeah, well. Apparently you made a good enough impression.{ another joke, another comment made with levity. it's what is easiest between them, really - bucky's flat tone. sam's insistence on smiling in response. when bucky starts trying to place sharon, sam simply waits. lets him work through it until he gets to the right answer. his brows are up, waiting for him to get there, and when he does sam huffs out a kind of laugh, nodding. ] Can't imagine anyone with Peggy Carter as an aunt wouldn't end up in some kind of government job with a gun.
[ and then, for a few moments, everything is okay. sam makes eye contact with bucky, reaffirms for him that yes, he trusts him, and that tension leaves bucky in a single exhale. sam finds himself smiling a little at the moment, confidence seeping back into him like warm breeze.
and then the moment is gone. tension is back. they've entered the bar, and there are others - people not with them, that sam catches. bucky must also, because he steps between sam and the door. he frowns, confused for a moment, looking to the back of bucky's head before he can try and adjust. be cool, trust him, it's fine. even if he can't really see who they are, he trusts bucky. even if the two steps bring a questioning look up to him.
still, sam plays the part. looks like he and bucky are just members at the bar. two people, who happen to be here together. ] What's happening, Buck? [ low, just under his breath. sam decides to go for the glass, now, looking casual, taking another sip. ] Did he bring backup?
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he’s listening, carefully. composing himself in the best way he can. sam’s breathing stayed even - did he notice? sam snorts in response to the half-assed apology and he wonders if it meant anything to him. probably not. never will. all in the past and it’s too little, too late. sam probably thinks he doesn’t need to apologize for anything anyway because sam’s an idiot. ]
The bar was really low, huh? [ it’s an easy dynamic they have, have had for years. conversations that consist of witty little remarks with the driest of execution. do they like each other? not really but they certainly share a similar sense of humor. and respect each-other. he appreciates the patience and not having it shoved in his face how hard it was to find a bit of information. he rubs his brow with a thumb then drops it, letting out a huff of a laugh. ] Geez, that’s depressing. I hope one of her relatives turned to art or something.
[ for a moment, everything is fine. then it’s not - but he has something very clear through the danger to anchor on, if just a little. a small fraction of calm. but it matters. things are easier knowing the person next to him doesn’t think he’ll slip up. trust is one of the hardest things in the world to come by. what he once had in abundance - a whole teams worth of comrades, friends was stripped down to one person that believed him and everyone willing to back that person up. then two people. (Three? Did Natasha believe him? He’ll never know...) now, back to one. one that just removed doubt that the number was zero. he has to keep that trust.
he distinctly remembers telling sam he wasn’t allowed to call him “buck” - he couldn’t care less that it was ignored right now. ]
No, that’s not it. We’re going to have to move. [ low, whispered. zemo is still over there. sam isn’t armed. the crew starts fanning out to search. tension is tripled.
the person currently in charge or under the soldier’s protection must be armed at all times. if the handler or person under the soldier’s protection is not armed, a weapon will be provided by the soldier even if the soldier must relinquish a weapon to do so.
bucky twists on the heels of his feet to turn face sam straight on and takes a step forward to put them close together. he leans forward in a motion that can look far too casual, a flirt. a hand running over the front of sam’s very nice jacket. pretending to smooth it out - a knife slipped out of bucky’s left sleeve and passed to sam. his head cocked in a way that still blocks the view but sam can peek and look. a blade tucked in a front pocket in one motion. a discrete slight of hand. he pats the spot after so sam can feel it - know what he did. yup. just two people at the bar together. who happen to be together. in madripoor, anything goes. ]
How close to that guy did Zemo say you looked again?
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he should have known better. he does know better. but he's also been a cog in the military complex machine for far too long than to be surprised by his own disappointment. john walker is a mess for another day. one step at a time. ]
You had good references. [ do they like each other? that's really the question, isn't it? because there are a hundred fights sam could be fighting right now. wars upon wars from both ends of his life. but does he like bucky barnes is a question he hasn't even, really, asked himself. the man infuriates him. frustrates him to the point of wanting to toss everything out the side of the plane. but he's thankful he's here all the same. is comfortable in this back and forth, if nothing else.
the ghost of steve still hangs heavy, between them, over them. sam cannot outrun the memory of the advice he'd given steve that day, even if it had come with only partial information. he's the kind you stop. it's an added weight to the stack of things sam goes to sleep guilty about, every night, but what else is new. ] Every family has a black sheep. Plus with the Carter name? I'm sure acting was right up their wheelhouse. [ sam is still laughing a bit to himself at the image - he didn't know sharon, or peggy for that matter, beyond their importance to steve. he'd sat at that funeral for steve, noting the overlapping circles of names. of people, that the carters seemed to touch. maybe he could have paid better attention, but his focus had been pulled, and sam's not sorry for that.
and then there is the shift. sam sees the tension slides out over bucky's shoulders like a new suit, a jacket slipped on over him. he says we're going to have to move in the kind of voice sam recognizes as dangerous. he's on edge too, now, aware of his lack of weapon. aware that zemo is all the way across the room. he opens his mouth to ask what bucky sees, how many are there, what's the plan, but that is when bucky turns.
they're suddenly very, very close. sam is a bit taken off-guard by it, a glass on one hand and now bucky all but along his front. bucky leans forward and sam's heart-rate spikes, distant thoughts of um.....what.....? creeping somewhere through the confusion. but then bucky's hand is on the lapel of his jacket, and some thing is slipped inside. sam is watching bucky with probably more concern than is necessary, until bucky's head cocks to one side and sam gets a glimpse of what bucky is reacting to, and oh. oh. suddenly, sam doesn't mind the proximity nearly as much, and in that moment of understanding comes an easy shift back to...what? flirtation? bucky's hand is still on sam's chest, and distantly he wonders if he can feel how fast his heart is beating. ]
I saw the picture myself - pretty damn close. [ and then sam smiles, something sly and fluid and in character., as his eyes come back to bucky's. there's an echo of steve, somewhere in the back of sam's had. and then she said public displays of affection make people uncomfortable. if they could only see them now. ]
We can't take them without causing a scene. [ his voice is low, but the expression on his face is still a part of the act. his body language leaning towards bucky, rather than away. just as bucky planned, after all. two people at a bar together. who happen to be together. together, in the same way that sam keeps watching bucky's face, there being something inherently coy, no matter his words. no matter how much his heart is beating, not just because of the newly introduced danger. but that's for another time, too. ] Can we get the contact out of here before they notice?
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Outdated ones. [ sam can be infuriating but that's part of his odd sort of charm. in a masochistic sort of way, he likes being called out on his shit. does he want to slap sam across the face? a little bit. but he's here and he's not having the worst time of his life. entire trauma being brought to the surface and his crumbling unstable mental state aside, he is outside socializing with people. proud of him, therapist? every rule is broken but whatever. what else is new. ] An actor in there wouldn't be surprising. [ there's a visual in his head. something recalled of margaret carter, director of shield, lying through her teeth thanking the men beside her for wonderful contributions. he remembers being angry about how her red lips, viewed from the sights of a rifle, were in a convincing smile. acting like everything's fine, there was no history she despised, and continued shaking hands with the then-aged scientist bucky has the face of branded into his head. acting. one of the men next to them has his head jerk back with a stream of red after she moves out of the way. evidence to frame someone else in place, the soldier then returns to a place under her very feet, filled with far more rage than before and has it stripped from him why.
twelve. seven on the right, five on the left but they're fanned out. too far apart and covering too much ground to just slip past without being noticed. he sees one nod to another. bucky gets even closer than before, feigning a half-smile. a corner of his lip bit to be inviting while his eyes are too alert, too aware of the room. sam doesn't immediately roll with this right away and it's almost funny to see the shock and confusion. charming in it's own way. he hopes nobody saw it. they have an act going and it buys time. he can hear thumping and isn't sure if it's the music, his own ears pounding from getting ready to take action - to hurt someone or if it's sam's heart he's feeling speed up through his hand becoming audible. ]
That's unfortunate. You couldn't have picked a different doppelganger? [ bucky states, left arm moving and being rested on sam's shoulder. two behind. very close. one is looking their way. the other is getting close enough to be within arms reach. a gloved hand is on the back of sam's neck. sam is leaning in. bucky leaning back. ] No. If Zemo gets to him while everyone's distracted, we can still get the intel. [ he noticed zemo started moving the second bucky stepped closer to sam. the dance floor abandoned. he has no idea where he went but it's presumably to reach their contact.
bucky has them chest to chest, a hand on sam's hip. posture for an intimate dance. his eyes flicker to sam's lips then behind him. the closer man, readying his weapon. sam and bucky, looking like a kiss about to happen. wouldn't that be something? to give something that wasn't pain right now? the hand on sam's neck moves up to the back of sam's head, as if to push forward and connect them. instead it's used to deflect a bullet.
all at once that tension building up snaps. the entire club erupts. the hand on his hip moves to the shirt and yanks him behind him before being removed from his person. the glass is taken and smashed into the face of the shooter. their table is grabbed and swung like it's a hammer into the second man, denting on impact. ]
mobile tagging means if you see typos, no you didn't
bucky grumbles something about outdated references and sam nearly rolls his eyes. because okay, fine, yes. he was actually paying bucky a compliment. could he take the half-assed acceptance that sam didn't, actually, regret having him at his side? that he was actually starting to see the benefit in the two of them working together? because if sam is infuriating, bucky is on an entirely different realm of frustratingly annoying and sam is more than happy to explain why. ]
It got you through the interview, didn't it?
[ sam's carter connection had been sharon, but he can only guess at what bucky had known about peggy. what bucky had thought. he'd been there from the beginning, after all, hadn't he? someone steve would actually talk to? say more than just his captain america comments and a quick glance down to a photo he actually thought no on noticed? sam doesn't blame steve for holding onto an old flame. but there was so much more to the carters than any of them ever could understand, and sam's not sure steve needed to know or see into the levels that family reached.
but he needed to focus. they both needed to focus, but sam is pretty sure bucky is already there - counting bodies, calculating moves. and actually, sam is kind of depending on it, on bucky's tactical awareness of their movements. they're still close enough that each time sam takes a breath, he just about feels bucky's chest pressed against him. he's close enough to catch the smile and sam works to find his footing in all of this, but his eyes are only on bucky, as he's not sure it makes sense for him to scan the room. so he lets trust take over, lets bucky assess. it's still a bit surprising to feel bucky's arm rest on sam's shoulder, to feel the gloved hand on the back of his neck. he feels his cheeks heat up, but he is going to chalk that entirely up to the rising adrenaline of a potential fight. ]
Pretty sure the whole point of dopplegangers is you don't get to pick them. And it worked of us earlier. [ for a short while. but not long, and that's a whole different issue sam is going to have to deal with. for now, it's the contact, it's the unsteady feeling of having to trust zemo to already be moving and have caught onto the plan. sam's mind is starting to speed up, to try and keep up with the quick movements of bucky's eyes. ]
You think he can do it? [ he means zemo, he means the contact, but now bucky is closer still and his eyes are on sam's and okay, alright, the flutter in his chest isn't entirely the fight this time and sam is man enough to admit that. bucky's hand shifts to the back of his head and they're leaning in closer, sam's grin still present and cocky, like someone finally getting the one thing they'd been working towards. in that moment he realizes that yes, actually, he would kiss bucky. could, wouldn't mind. if they kiss. if this is what is about to happen.
that is when it changes - a snap of twine, a switch flicked. he hears the gunshot and feels the pang on the back of his head and then bucky is jerking sam out of the way. he goes with the yank, ducking down behind another table and emerging just as one tries to approach bucky from behind. sam picks up his own bottle, then, crashing it against the back of his head and reaching for the gun, turning back to where the most of the group was still collected.
avoid civilians he can't tell if he yells it at bucky or not, but the thought is there, and sam lets off the rest of the rounds of the gun only towards those he can immediately identify, before ditching the empty weapon and diving behind another table he'd knocked over in the process. ]
We need to leave! [ this one he's sure he yells aloud in bucky's direction, distracted by the gunfire pinging off the table he's hiding behind. ]