Bucky Barnes ☆ 32557038 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tookthewheel) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thearena2014-06-21 11:27 am
tookthewheel) wrote in thearena2014-06-21 11:27 am
Entry tags:
I know you (Closed)
Who| Steve Rogers and MCU Bucky Barnes
What| The Winter Soldier enters the arena, of course he encounters Stevehe has an internal radar
Where| Near the Cornucopia
When| Near the end of week 4, before Steve fights Shephard
Warnings/Notes| Amnesia, possible trauma references, two idiots who don't know how to do feelings
They send him in with minimal instruction and clothing that is nothing like the body armour he is usually given.
It's an improvement over the stolen clothing he's been wearing since the Helicarriers went down at least, and cleaner. He was given no weapons to carry but he doesn't need any, he has only ever needed the order. Kill. Kill until only one remains.
But something's wrong -- and not just with his mind now, the mind that's been questioning in ever growing frequency since Hydra's last mission -- with his body. He feels weaker, not as fast, not as a strong. There's something wrong with arm too, it's functioning at limited capacity and they never told him how it works so the Soldier can't explain it. It must be something the owners of this arena have done and there it is, the white hot flash of anger he's becoming accustomed to, tired of always being someone else's puppet. It feels good.
The Soldier decides that if his body is going to be untrustworthy he needs something more to fight with, at least until he becomes adjusted to this change. He leaves the picked clean Cornucopia and begins to search the houses. A piece of electrical cord has found its way into his pocket already, good enough to throttle someone with and is now picking through pieces of twisted scrap metal in a back yard, ears trained to his surroundings as judges if any of them would be substantial for a makeshift blade.
What| The Winter Soldier enters the arena, of course he encounters Steve
Where| Near the Cornucopia
When| Near the end of week 4, before Steve fights Shephard
Warnings/Notes| Amnesia, possible trauma references, two idiots who don't know how to do feelings
They send him in with minimal instruction and clothing that is nothing like the body armour he is usually given.
It's an improvement over the stolen clothing he's been wearing since the Helicarriers went down at least, and cleaner. He was given no weapons to carry but he doesn't need any, he has only ever needed the order. Kill. Kill until only one remains.
But something's wrong -- and not just with his mind now, the mind that's been questioning in ever growing frequency since Hydra's last mission -- with his body. He feels weaker, not as fast, not as a strong. There's something wrong with arm too, it's functioning at limited capacity and they never told him how it works so the Soldier can't explain it. It must be something the owners of this arena have done and there it is, the white hot flash of anger he's becoming accustomed to, tired of always being someone else's puppet. It feels good.
The Soldier decides that if his body is going to be untrustworthy he needs something more to fight with, at least until he becomes adjusted to this change. He leaves the picked clean Cornucopia and begins to search the houses. A piece of electrical cord has found its way into his pocket already, good enough to throttle someone with and is now picking through pieces of twisted scrap metal in a back yard, ears trained to his surroundings as judges if any of them would be substantial for a makeshift blade.
no subject
He grabs his shield as he makes his way out the backdoor and peer up at the sky, wonder who's face was going to paint the sky tonight, if he was going to be mourning the loss of another friend.
If he was too late in finding Thor and Bucky.
The thought doesn't linger when he catches sight of someone out of the corner of his eye. Turning, he sees a man who's very much familiar and very much not the Bucky he has been looking for. The long hair was kind of a give away.
"Bucky," the tone is soft, unsure. Is he another figment like Peggy? The beard is throwing him off. It's not right. Guess it doesn't matter, either way it was another twist of the knife. Something his eyes express clearly.
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But the voice surprises him, almost throws any sense of pragmatism out of the window. He didn't expect it, didn't think Steve Rogers of all people could be forced into this sort of game. With effort he wills his face into complying with presenting a neutral expression as he stands up to face the man who turned his whole world upside down last they met.
It's not Bucky as Steve would have last seen him on the Helicarrier, the bruises and cuts of that fight have healed and in addition to the unkempt beard there's traces of sleep deprivation on his face, a hunch to his shoulders that wasn't presented before - like a man trying to hide.
Steve looks healed but perhaps equally strained, like he's been here a while. except... that isn't right. There wasn't enough time for him to look the way he does now, Steve Rogers had only recently been released from hospital. He knew this. It's more confusion and he's working on very limited information from his new captors here.
He's been addressed and ought to respond but he doesn't think he can. The Soldier hadn't been ready to confront the captain again yet and so, for the moment, says nothing and simply returns his gaze while his mind works furtively under the cover of silence to decide what to do.
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Sure it hadn't really been her, he knew that, but the dead body had still looked like her. It still made his chest tight with emotion to see her face still with death.
Now the Gamemakers were throwing a second one at him? First the woman he loved and now the most important person in his life? That was so damn unfair. These assholes fought dirty, but this was just cruel. He couldn't let Bucky slip from his fingers again, he couldn't watch him die at his hand, but he didn't want to give in and abandon Thor and James.
Steve casts his eyes down now, feeling useless to do anything about this trap all over again.
"Suppose helping keep people alive isn't great for ratings," he goes for deadpan, but it falls a little flat. He was witness to the Gamemakers do their damnedest to kill Carlos, guess it was his turn. "Had to set me up somehow."
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It's not the reaction the Soldier expects given Steve's actions during their last encounter, where he'd been so determined to prove the truth of their past friendship with each other that he'd almost let the Soldier kill him. The thought of how close he'd come had weighed uneasily over his mind, not at all soothed by pulling Steve from the river after it.
His brow furrows as he speaks, trying to puzzle out every part of what Steve said. Ratings? That passes over his head but is not forgotten, he wants to know. The second sentence indicates Steve thinks the Soldier's presence is some form of trap (and it possibly is but not intentionally on his side at least). It was a fight to the death, one winner only, it would be wise of Steve to believe that the Soldier was here to kill him.
He would in his place. It wasn't like their recent encounters didn't also lend themselves to that belief.
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"You're real," his voice is a confusing mix of emotions. He doesn't have to kill Bucky now (not like he could anyway), which is a relief he can't put into words, but it also meant he's here. Really here. This was not how he wanted to find and help the man again.
Not exactly the best place to recover from what Hydra did to him.
"Shit Bucky, I thought you were-" he shakes his head. There's a more pressing question though, "How long have you been here?"
Have they been passing each other like ships in the night this whole time?
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"Yes."
Another strange statement. What else could he be but real? He was as much as he had ever been and now maybe more. It's been too long since he was last wiped, Hydra would call him dangerously compromised by now, he thinks.
He runs over his internal chronometer, he thinks at some point they must have have put a great deal of effort into ensuring he could keep track of time accurately without needing to carry any timekeeping device. It's hardly ever wrong. "Five hours." his eyes pass over Steve again, frowning at the inconsistency with his intel. "You only left the hospital recently."
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And from the sounds of it, Bucky got snatched from about the same time frame he was, he'd only been out of the hospital for a handful of days when they grabbed him. Unlike Thor who was months behind him and Stark. At least this gives him an idea of Bucky's possible frame of mind. Not that it's much of an idea.
"Well, I had been just out of the hospital when they brought me here against my will, but that was almost five weeks ago," Steve watches Bucky closely, keeping his voice level when he talks. "They didn't give you a chance to learn much about all this, did they?"
At least they gave Steve a week before throwing him in the arena.
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But he doesn't look right, which is the only thing lending credence to Captain America's claim to the Soldier. His fingers tighten around the shard of metal in his left hand as he considers it, tries to understand it and comes up with, unsurprisingly for him, nothing.
"They gave me the mission."
In his experience that meant it was all he needed to know. That was how it worked, a weapon was only given what ammunition it needed to make its target, all else was superfluous.
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"This isn't the world we come from, the Capitol's government can grab people from multiple worlds and bring them here for this," he gestures to the arena in general. "This isn't a mission, Bucky, it's a game, one they televise for other people's enjoyment."
There's so much to mention and so much to say, he has questions for Bucky, but he has a feeling Bucky will disappear any minute. It feels like there's a time limit to tell the man as much as he can.
"I'm not playing their game and I won't fight you," just like before, but he keeps the makeshift shield in hand. Not because of Bucky, but because he knows these monsters can and will come out of nowhere and he's not chancing that.
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It feels like a test. Like something Hydra would do, maybe like something they had done before. There's so much missing, so much emptiness in his head there could be any number of possibilities for the things he's done since the official records of James Barnes life ended.
"Why?" is what he demands, why would they do that. How, because how they managed to sneak up on him to take him captive he doesn't know. A long range knockout dart perhaps, it would have had to be strong to take him down quickly because one moment he remembers he was in the museum and the next waking up in that cot.
The fact that Steve wouldn't attack him he doesn't address, yet anyway, it was probably for the same sentiment he'd shown before. Looking for the ghost of Bucky.
The Soldier's eyes flicker down to the replacement shield. He remembers suddenly that the original fell into the river and wonders if it was ever found, it had been an excellent weapon and what Steve holds now is a beyond poor substitute.
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"It's not," he doesn't know what kind of test this could be, but he doesn't like that Bucky says it. What all did Hydra do to him?
"As for why, this used to be a means of control, oppression, to keep people in line, take their kids and put them in a fight to the death. After a while they stopped using the kids and brought us into it." Part of Steve is very glad to take the spots of those kids, but he doesn't want anyone else to suffer this too.
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That he can understand intimately, being controlled. "They brought you."
They brought a man like Steve Rogers to a death match, they caught him somehow where Hydra failed. It seems like the worst choice, a man who had clearly stated he had no intention of obeying already. Bringing the Soldier in makes more sense, he's always been a killer, only needing to be pointed in the right direction and given minimal instruction.
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Bucky isn't resisting Steve's familiarity. He's not rejecting the name or looking at Steve like he has no idea who he is, there's a certain amount of recognition there that he hadn't quite noticed til now. Sure, his last memory before passing out is Bucky hesitating, a look that brings the word horror - at Steve or at himself, he has no idea - to mind, but then it's gone and he's waking up in the hospital.
And maybe it's because he's been around James, a Bucky who has his memories again and knows Steve, that this went unnoticed so long. But this man in front of him has been keeping tabs on him and is open enough to talk with Steve, not attack or reject him.
"You know me now, don't you?" He's painfully hopeful. It's probably stupid to ask, but he has to know.
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"I'm not him."
It comes quickly, maybe too quickly. But in denying he is he's perhaps let slip he knows now who that person was that the name Bucky once belonged to, the man Steve is so desperate to find in the Soldier. He'd seen the truth for himself that that man once existed even if he can't consciously find the memories and that they shared a face if nothing else.
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Yet, it still hurts to hear him try to deny who he is.
Steve doesn't expect Bucky to become the man he once was again, too much has changed and he knows that, but the man in front of him deserves to have his memories back. He wants Bucky to have the chance to be the man he wants to be, to have that choice and freedom again.
But that takes time and saying you are only goes so far.
Well, he knows a way to help Bucky right now. "Will you wait here a minute," his voice is saying please for him. "There's something you should have."
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Yet Steve doesn't say anything in reply, at least to that. The Soldier tenses, watching him, waiting for the insistence to come. Your name is-- that he remembers from the helicarrier where he alternately stabbed, shot and beat this man.
But didn't kill him.
He pulled Steve Rogers from the water because there's something there, because I'm with you to the end of the line opened a pit in his stomach that filled him with revulsion for what he'd been about to do. It was the first time he'd ever disobeyed an order, at least in what memory he has.
Despite all that he can't give Steve what he really wants right now and it feels like the least he can do instead is to wait like he asks. Because he asks and doesn't order.
The Soldier will at least see what it is and acknowledges this decision with a slow nod.
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He spends little time packing a small handwoven bag with food and water, knowing the man will come up short on finding food in the houses around the town. Everyone's already picked those clean. The only food left is in the orchards, and he rather Bucky avoid those, especially after what he saw Natasha go through.
Returning outside, he looks over to see Bucky still there. Exactly where he left him. Like actually exactly. Well, he probably shouldn't be that surprised.
"You know you could have moved, I was just asking you not to leave," it does show Steve just how much they dehumanized Bucky.
"Here," Steve holds out the bag, waiting for either Bucky to approach him or see some indication he can approach. "Some food and water. You should avoid eating from the orchards, the fruit has some kind of toxin that slows you down." Or so Steve thinks.
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The strong surge of loathing he'd discovered for his masters rears it's head again because he can't tell apart sometimes when he's doing something of his own accord or because of some programmed response. The metal fingers clack and scrape against the metal shard they hold as he thinks about it. He could have gotten answers if only --
-- he blinks, paying attention to Steve again. The Soldier eyes the bag and doesn't immediately reach out to take it, a flicker of something in his eyes as he gazes back up to Steve's face. He gets the impression -- since he was dropped down with none -- that food and clean water may be a rare commodity here. "You're just giving it to me?"
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Now he watches something else at play in the subtleties of a face that's familiar, yet foreign in a way that's like learning a new word in a different language. He wants to learn what that word is. But he's coming to terms that he has to wait for Bucky to decide when that is.
The man in front of him needs patience and a someone he can rely on. Both of which Steve can do.
"Yeah, it's yours if you want it."
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"Where did it come from?" If he asks he might be able to secure more. Maybe other combatants will have food as well, easily scavenged if he takes them down. The Soldier doesn't know why he's hesitating. He's not, he's gathering information even though it's not normally his job to do so; the intel usually comes to him on a concise file, neatly typed with maps and photographs of every detail it was necessary for him to know to succeed and no more.
Except that there's no Hydra holding his reins anymore and while he doesn't mourn that it's presenting more challenges than he could have expected to function on his own.
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Besides, it's not like he can really tell Bucky what he should do to get sponsors. Steve's still not entirely sure if his strategy worked or if people were sponsoring him for other reasons, but he was still getting food regularly, which means he's doing something right. So, he's just going to keep doing as he has been.
Which one of those things is sharing the food he's given.
"This is what I can spare, but it'll last you a few days."
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He still can't quite wrap his head around why Steve is giving it away to him, the Soldier wants to take it even it's a reward he hasn't earned but something else wants to leave it in Steve's hands. In the end however the Soldier's practicality is stronger than any other concern, accepting the supplies as a necessary component towards completing the objective.
So the Soldier reaches out, perhaps notably with his human hand, to take the small bag from Steve. He'll try to avoid actual contact with Steve's hand, pulling the bag back to his chest in a quick movement. His acknowledgement to the words is given only in a sharp nod.
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Then he pauses, thinking something over before deciding that yeah, it was worth the risk.
"One more thing," Steve reaches into his pocket to get out his Swiss Army knife and holds it out for the other man to take. "It's not just people here, there's monsters too, nasty ones. Just do me a favor and don't kill anyone with it. Defend yourself, kill monsters, but not people."
Bucky could still take it and say no, but he's putting faith in the idea that the man he knew is in there, still a part of this man, and will do this for him.
It might be a little bit of a test too.
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The food, strange enough. A weapon, to the man who nearly killed him only weeks ago, unthinkable. No target has ever acted the way Steve Rogers had, causing a crashing fault in his carefully sculpted programming at almost every turn. There's no pre-programmed scenario for this situation.
Take it. Kill him. is a residue of his last assigned mission that strikes him first. He sets his jaw and pushes it away, to join the rest of the growing malcontent that has taken root with his masters, focusing on trying to analyse the man before him instead. There's nothing in his stance that suggests aggression and the expression on his face is open as far as the Soldier is able to read it, honest.
Perhaps he does mean it and only wants him to have the means to protect himself. The only thing he's not sure he can promise not to kill anyone with it, he's not sure if he's capable of holding a weapon in his hands and not using it to end a life. But if it was a pre-condition of taking it--
His mouth works silently for a moment, struggling to get the words out, "I will... try." It's the best he can offer right now.
The Soldier reaches his hand out again after tucking the bag under his arm, slower this time, palm up for Steve to drop the knife into if he still wants to hand it over. He will not be surprised if he doesn't.
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Steve takes the knife and places it in Bucky's offered hand.
The step back before was obvious, they're reaching Bucky's end of being willing to stay here, he can see it. He wants him to stay, he wonders if Bucky would if he asked, but he won't. His friend was allowed his freedom.
"I'm around if you need anything," it's an offer, out there for him to take if he needs it.
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It's kindness to a killer like him that he doesn't understand. It's asking a man like him not to kill with a knife in his hand when it's all he's made to do.
It's the smile on Steve's face that twists something inside of him and reinforces the desire to get away.
By the time he reaches the end of the yard he's relaxed a little again. He thinks he should do something, offer something -- all the Soldier can manage is to nod once, then he's gone, turning and taking off for some other part of the arena at a swift pace.