2168/Visitation Rights

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Visitation Rights
Date of Scene: 25 August 2017
Location: West Harlem - Mercy's Garage
Synopsis: Winter Soldier receives a visitor. Captain America. Sam and Mercy give the low-down of their plan.
Cast of Characters: Mercy Thompson, Sam Winchester, Captain America, Winter Soldier
Tinyplot: Tayaniye


Mercy Thompson has posed:
It's a new day. Perhaps not a better one, but new nonetheless.

Before Mercy went to bed last night (as if she really slept) she managed to remember to call the number Agent May of SHIELD gave her. No one answered, which isn't unexpected, and so Mercy Thompson left a message. It went something like this -

"Hi. This is Mercy Thompson. We got our friend secured. Please send back-up."

No names were mentioned only that vague descriptor of 'our friend', since this isn't necessarily a sanctioned SHIELD field op. That doesn't mean that the message won't get to whomever it needs to get to. Like Agent May. Captain America. Natasha Romanov.

The shift-change in the round-o'clock guard is currently taking place and while people are moving from one room to another, that doesn't mean the Winter Soldier is /ever/ left to his own devices. That will never happen. And for a few minutes there's two guards within the garage when Mercy Thompson steps into the room. With a nod, the mechanic says, "I got it from here." Then her gaze turns immediately to their prisoner, then the chain and finally the ceiling where the chain is secured against one of the foundational struts of the building. She's visually inspecting the rebar welded links. Looking for any stressors, any issues, or damage.

In her hands is a small paper bag from a local fast food chain. Inside soft tacos will be found and no, there isn't any plasticware included. "I brought you lunch." She says, and with that word of warning Mercy will slide the bag across the floor towards him.

For those that are arriving at the garage they'll find Mercy's Garage closed for the week. A sign in the front door stating 'returning soon' with that door being locked tight. If one were to go around to the side entrance they'll find the door open unlocked, denoting someone is at home.

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam has been one of the ones volunteering on guard duty, but he's hovered around the shop a bit just the same. The Soldier's warning that Hydra would be coming has him feeling the need to stay on high alert on the street, looking for sighs of trouble, when he's not actively taking his turn in the room with the Soldier, who insists their only way to live through their audacity is to let him go. The only way to save Claire, too. Sam, for his part, really hopes they get around to activating this gambit soon, because he has a feeling the Soldier isn't exactly lying.

He's walked a full block perimeter, looking for anything out of the ordinary, using all that Marine training his father drilled into his head, and Dean's, to its full advantage, even as he keeps his senses wide open in the hopes of encouraging a helpful vision. Sometimes he sits on a rooftop, or in the car he's renting. Every now and then he comes inside to check in, to let Mercy know things are still all clear. He slips in the back entrance to do that now, ducking his head in to the room where she's feeding their prisoner. "Still all clear," he says.

Captain America has posed:
Often when not hanging around SHIELD, Steve Rogers looks, well, like Steve Rogers. He has none of the hallmarks of Captain America save the clean cut haircut. His civvies are just that: a grey t-shirt underneath an army green jacket, all with blue jeans. And dockers--in the same style he wore before he was frozen.

//Some things, like good shoes, never go out of style//, the agent debriefing him had tried to joke. Somehow it wasn't funny to Steve, but he'd smiled anyways in a sad not-quite there way, casting politeness to discomfort. Style had become a strange metaphor for being stuck in time.

And Steve's style, those old times manners make him hesitate when he sees the closed sign. He takes a step back and casts a look around the area. He was expected. Kind of. With a soft sigh, and a brief shake of his head, his weight shifts and he pads to the side door and wraps lightly on the frame.

He squeaks the door open a crack, but doesn't walk in yet. "...Hello? Uh... I... I'm looking for someone?"

Winter Soldier has posed:
The Winter Soldier honestly looks unchanged for what has become a day-plus incarceration. He seems as equanimous as ever. He's probably getting more rest than his jailors are, at this point, given their need to maintain a constant vigilance over him. Which is pretty necessary, really. Mercy took away everything left within his reach that could be possibly lit on fire or broken into a weapon or similarly employed in some mischief or another, an act which got her a rather dirty look from a prisoner who has by now clearly identified the 'bad cop' in this scenario.

She's also chained him such that there's no dark corners or objects he can hide behind, leaving him exposed out in the open save for a single wall. He spends most of his time with his back firmly to said wall, an old instinct which cannot quite be unlearned. The food is treated with his typical suspicion, but he doesn't reject it.

There is a slight sign of some strain to the chain, where it's been welded to the foundational strut. Not anything significant by any means, but enough to suggest that it got yanked really hard somewhere between where Mercy first welded it, and now.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
That slight strain that can be seen is considered. Mentally weighing if she should try to spot-weld it again, or if she should do something else.

Whatever decision she's made isn't spoken out-loud, not when Sam steps back into the room. The coyote's attention shifts from the ceiling, the Soldier and onto the rather tall young man. She opens her mouth to say something to his all clear, possibly something as simple as 'okay', or 'good', but whatever Mercy was about to say stills at the knock upon the door. Immediately she tenses, her words to Sam changing now, "Stay with him, and please, /don't/ give him anything else." Is the quick admonishment from the mechanic; then she's moving, stepping away and to that side door which sits across the room, that avenue of escape the farthest from where the Winter Soldier is chained.

When Mercy appears at the door wariness might be the most evident expression upon her face. She gives the blond man, in his jacket, his shirt, those jeans and boots a once over. There's no recognition within her gaze at just who he is, or why he's here. His words don't necessarily offer comfort either, as she eases the door open and slips outside, using her body to shield the interior of the garage from casual view, "Who're you looking for?" Comes her polite enough words, even if her countenance screams 'go away'.

Sam Winchester has posed:
Captain America himself calls politely through the door of Mercy's garage. And thus it is that America's Hero ends up having a gun held on him, cocked and ready, courtesy of a Moose of a man who hasn't even seen his 22nd birthday yet. He looks determined, not at all afraid, neither joyous about the prospect of shooting nor hesitant. In fact, there's a little chagrin...did he miss a Hydra plant already? It takes a few moments for recognition to dawn in those hazel eyes, because of course Steve Rogers, out of uniform, could just be any clean-cut guy in New York, especially if, like Sam, you spend very little time watching television.

And nobody looks like they look in comic books, for all that those old /Invaders/ issues are still carefully tucked into plastic sleeve protectors, sitting untouched behind the passenger seat of the black Impala, a vantage point from which they have seen almost every god damn town in America for a little over 16 years.

But Mercy waves Sammy into the Soldier's room, and he looks somewhere between guilty and astonished. He closes the door behind him and keeps the gun out just in case, because anyone could be a lookalike, and because he doesn't have a lot of trust to offer anyone right now. He half-glances behind him, though of course now all he can see is door, and then glances incredulously at the Soldier.

"You seriously managed to turn a bunch of paperbacks into a deadly weapon?"

Beat.

"Seriously?"

Beat again, agahst, exasperated, impressed: "How?"

Of course, it's a bundle of assumptions, but he's not sure why else Mercy would be upset about it.

Winter Soldier has posed:
This question yields a knife-edged grin.

"I don't kiss and tell," is the Winter Soldier's reply, because of course that's all he would say.

Captain America has posed:
Mercy's presence at the door and her expression are noted. And then there's the gun on him. With an extremely self-deprecating smile, Steve tucks his hands into his pockets and his eyebrows draw together sharply. Yeah, he definitely should've called first. But he answers the question posed to him. "I'm looking for Mercy Thompson. Uh... she left a message with--" his eyebrows draw together and his chin drops towards his chest. "--some people I work with." His chin lifts and he tries to meet her gaze, "I'm looking for a friend of mine. There's rumour," his smile turns sheepish and his head shakes, breaking the thought and allowing himself to sink back into his manners. "If I'm in the wrong place, please just tell me. I'm still negotiating, well," his eyes actually roll at his lack of eloquence, "all of this," being awake and alive in 2025.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
At that gun being pulled Mercy can't quite help the /side-eye/ Sam earns. Closing her eyes for a brief second the coyote breathes deeply, striving for balance.

Especially in such an unbalanced world right now.

Opening her eyes, the coyote says, "I'm Mercy. And yes, I left a message. I was expecting someone else. Come in, please." And just like that Mercy Thompson allows Captain America into the garage proper. Where the Winter Soldier is. Once the Captain is through the door, Mercy will make sure to pull the door closed, though she doesn't lock it. There are others that'll be returning soon and it'll be too much of a pain in the ass to keep unlocking the door for each one.

Now the coyote steps off to the side, her gaze sharp, as she simply watches the Captain and the Winter Soldier.

Sam Winchester has posed:
The Winter Soldier's little quip earns an exasperated exhale from one Sam Winchester, and a roll of his eyes. But as Mercy allows Rogers into the room, he steps aside. He finds a spot where he can cover the room, and he assumes a guard position. However exasperating he /himself/ may be, he's at least conscientious, and right now he's trying to protect the two who have just walked in from the dangerous man in the middle. He does all of this with the same grim earnestness with which he had briefly threatened Rogers at the door. It's a kind of professionalism, but it's a rough sort, the type picked up via practice rather than via any kind of a formal training program.

Winter Soldier has posed:
The young man chained to an overhead foundation beam is, without any doubt, James Barnes -- or at least, James Barnes with the addition of unruly hair longer than he ever wore it, the metal left arm pinned tightly to his side by the chain wrapped around his torso, and the total lack of recognition on his face. He tenses as another person enters the room, his blue eyes moving from individual to individual, his body language wary and defensive. His back stays firmly to the wall.

He doesn't know Steve Rogers at all.

"Not much of an interrogator you brought me," he sneers, playing with the slack of the chain, winding it loosely about his metal wrist.

Captain America has posed:
Steve follows Mercy into the garage. He lingers just inside the entrance, letting his emotions play all too readily on his face. His head tilts slightly and he shuffles into the room, walking its perimeter while wholly aware of the way his best friend looks at him. His hands remain deeply tucked into his pockets. But his eyes fix on the Soldier as he moves.

His feet shuffle along the floor, and he nods slightly at the Soldier's observation, but maintains his silence longer, buying himself that little bit of grace needed. The edges of Steve's eyes crinkle while his face pulls downward in earnest bereavement and pain. There's no airs and no use pretending. So he doesn't even try. "Bucky," he says softly. "You always told me never to play poker." His lips pull upwards on one side as he begins to pace the room. And then he looks towards Sam, "Never really took a shine to cards. Not a popular thing in the army." He emits a breath akin to a laugh as his head shakes. And then with another pull of his eyebrows, he offers a very quiet, "I'm sorry," without any pretext, pretence, or assurances.

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam Winchester decides a little context is called for. "He thinks he's a Russian named Yasha, Mr. Rogers. They were torturing him. He half came to himself before they took him again. Now he's adamant that we're the ones trying to trick him, rewire him."

Tread carefully, in other words. It could be that Steve already had the rundown, but...Sam isn't sure, and with Steve trying to apologize to the man who doesn't even recognize him, he rather thinks not.

Of course, it would be wonderful if the mere sight of Steve Rogers had sparked some memory, but given Yasha's words, it doesn't really look like that's happened. "We've been trying to help him," he adds, since right now it kind of looks more like they're engaged either in a citizen's arrest or a felony kidnapping, depending upon how charitably one wants to read the set-up.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
Mercy's gaze watches the Captain and listens to his words and then Sam's words, as well. The mechanic nods, but she also adds, "He also kidnapped a friend of ours - Claire Temple. She's in Hydra's care now. We need to rescue her."

Winter Soldier has posed:
The Winter Soldier stares at Steve, disturbed and suspicious. He is transfixed, but not out of recognition nor any struggle towards recognition. He's transfixed by the strange and inexplicable way Steve keeps looking at him, and the illogical things that he says. "Don't call me that," he growls, pressing back against the wall. "I don't know you."

He is tense, in the way animals get when they know they're at a disadvantage, in that way men get when they suspect themselves to be the butt of some joke. His eyes flick rapidly between Sam and Mercy as they offer their clarifications. It's the tone, perhaps, one that could be construed as pity, that sets him off more than anything.

"Shut up," the chained Soldier snarls to their contributions. He abandons English entirely, and his left arm starts to whine. "Ya... ya ne znayu, o chem vy govorite. Ya soldat..."

Captain America has posed:
Sam earns a small shrug of Cap's shoulder, there's a piece he can correct there. "Steve," he says quietly when his eyes finally peel away from Bucky albeit momentarily. With a vague smirk he remarks, "Mister Rogers makes me feel old." His head ticks to the right, "It's accurate, but I'd rather not focus on it." He takes a few steps towards the Soldier and studies Bucky's face. As he does so, he remembers himself, noting back to Sam a quiet, "Thanks."

He frowns at the mention of Claire, but the growls from his friend cause him to need some sense of ground. Steve emits a sigh and lowers himself to the floor to sit in front of this man he once knew. //I don't know you//. "But I know you," he returns to his study of the Soldier's eyes, seeking any signs of recognition as faint as they may be.

"You're James Buchanan Barnes. My friend of way too many years to count. And Hydra will regret the day they made you forget that," it's a promise not a threat.

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam Winchester now takes a quiet, careful step back. He feels almost like an intruder here. Captain America probably doesn't need to be guarded, and now he's hearing things that are personal. Important. In the end, though, he decides to stay. Being tactical outweighs even the emotional intelligence factor. Instead, he sort of looks away, watching the soldier for sudden moves but otherwise sort of pretending not to watch, sort of listening but trying not to. It's a weird balance to strike, though it's one that certain people...professional bodyguards, being one example...manage as a matter of course.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
Whether Mercy Thompson realizes just /who/ is in her garage is hard to say. All the names being bandied about, however, are heard, but for the moment Mercy is keeping her own counsel.

Automatically the coyote will scent the air and the agitation coming off of the Winter Soldier is noted. It's only when the whine of the Soldier's arm is heard that Mercy straightens. "Careful."

She doesn't necessarily walk over to Steve, or the Soldier for that matter, but Mercy Thompson will take a step toward the two. A look is slid to Sam now, a look that says be ready, then Mercy is turning her gaze back to Steve just as he sits down. At this point the coyote's eyes widen, "Wait, don't get too close -" But who's to say if her warning is really needed, or if it is, heard in time.

Winter Soldier has posed:
Probably for the best that Sam and Mercy don't leave. Because the sound of that arm intensifies, whirring more strongly, grating into a shriek--

The Winter Soldier bolts from his position, zero to top speed in an instant, lunging until he hits either Steve Rogers or the end of his chain. Whichever comes first.

"Zatknis'!" he hisses. It's just his right arm that swings, but a straight punch from that is still no joke.

Captain America has posed:
The impact of Bucky's right hook to Steve's jaw sees Captain America falling to the floor. He lifts a hand towards Sam, a silent plea not to react as he pulls himself back to his feet. There's no anger in his eyes. No ire. "Bucky," he tries again, his voice low and pained. He stakes a step back, giving himself enough space to ensure he won't get pummelled the instant he's on his feet.

He keeps distance enough. "I'm not going anywhere," his chin lifts. "And I haven't forgotten you--won't forget you. Even if you've forgotten yourself. I know you." There's a twist of his lips into another smile. "You got it, you know. You got it before everyone else. And I learned it from you. So even if you hit me... when you hit me(?) again, I'm not leaving."

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam's unarmed hand snaps out. His first impulse is not actually to shoot the soldier, for all the grim conversation they shared during his shift, but to summon up his TK, to throw him back, to stop it. But it never comes; it doesn't have to. America's Hero takes the blow, talks calmly, adjusts where he's at. He slowly lets his hand lower, exhaling, and he glances at Mercy before abandoning his polite fiction that he's not paying attention.

Now he's on high alert, ready to respond if he has to. This situation is too dangerous, too volitile, for anything less.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
And there fist meets jaw and the Captain falls.

Mercy's expression twists and while she takes a few more steps towards the two men, she doesn't get anywhere within reach of either of them.

Nor does she get in-between them, because that would be stupid.

And while Sam has that TK punch of his, Mercy has very little in the ways of actual helpful abilities for this particular type of situation; instead, all she has is her voice. "/Stop/." The mechanic nearly shouts, her voice echoing against the cement walls and floors, and while her words are mostly for the Winter Soldier, there's something also there for Steve Rogers. Turning her gaze to the blond-haired man, the coyote continues with, "Please, I'd rather not test the limit of how much my garage can take before it falls down around us." A pointed look is turned towards ceiling where the chain is secured to one of the foundational struts of the building.

Winter Soldier has posed:
The Winter Soldier seethes at the end of his chain as Steve picks himself back up and keeps trying. There's nothing there. No recognition, no remorse, no pity. Mercy shouts in the background, and the Soldier doesn't look at her, but there's something in his body language that makes plain he heard. Heard -- and is fully prepared to ignore.

I know you, Steve insists.

"You get out of my face," he seethes, "or I swear this chain won't stop me. You don't know //shit//. I'm sick of people acting like they do!"

Captain America has posed:
Steve casts an apologetic glance toward Mercy. "If you need, I can... we have resources to move him." He cringes. "I'm sorry you're..." and then slowly, he suggests, "This is my family," but even then he has to acknowledge the importance of keeping the building intact.

But even that doesn't stop him. "Buck, I'm not--I'm not going to leave. I can't. Even if you're not there. I know you. I won't forget you. No matter how loud you yell and how angrily you tell me you don't know me." His eyes hone in on the Soldier's seeking any signs that Bucky is still around. The building is given once over for its structural soundness. "I'm with you to the end of the line."

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam Winchester clears his throat uncertainly. "Maybe it...might not be...healthy...to continue to belabor this point, Steve. At this time. Mercy, maybe you better take him into the other room for just a second. Explain the plan, and what he's up against right this second, and what we know. I think that right now this is almost..."

A cruelty, though it's not meant as one. But Sam is too kind, too polite, of a soul to say so. Instead he makes his tone as gentle as he can when he says, "Counterproductive," instead. "I can stay with him," he adds. "It's not a problem. Let's let him calm down. Cool off. Moving him, Steve, is a terrible idea, but I think Mercy can explain it all better than I can."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
The coyote watches the Winter Soldier. While there's wariness in her gaze, there's also something akin to pity, or at the very least, sadness.

Sam's words bring Mercy's gaze back around to the other two men. A faint flare of gratitude might be seen by Sam for the instant she looks at him, then Mercy's attention shifts to Steve. "Sam's right, moving him would be bad. Follow me?" She'll rhetorically ask, even as she starts toward another door, this one leading into the more centralized office of Mercy's business.

"Can I get you anything? A drink?" The coyote asks, polite as ever, even if the drink she most desperately wants is a beer. Maybe two.

Winter Soldier has posed:
Steve talks. He says a lot of things.

The Winter Soldier, Yakov Aleksandrovich Morozov, stares Steve Rogers in the eyes. His own narrow. There's a pause at the end, a slight hesitation, a twitch to the corner of his right eye. He is silent about half a minute too long, his stance locked and rigid. It's the stiff-legged posture of a wolf ready to fight -- or to defend itself. A tremor runs down his right arm.

He becomes slowly aware of the pity in Sam and Mercy's voices and expressions. His gaze refocuses, flaring with rage.

"The only thing I am," he says, frost-blue eyes watching as they leave, "is the man who's gonna kill you if you don't take care..."

Captain America has posed:
Steve's eyebrows lift at Sam's words, but his chin ducks, giving Bucky a bit of space as he does so. His eyes turn away and move to his feet--the most interesting object in the room. Unlike the others, there's no pity in his gaze, just sheer determination as he relents and follows Mercy to the office.

The offer of a drink is given the vaguest shake of Steve's head as he looks about the room. "Thanks, but, no thanks." While she might be easy in this space, he's far from. But then he hasn't been easy in any space for a long while.

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam Winchester doesn't have any hero worship for Captain America, not like most. Ironically, his hero worship was for the man in chains, and the reality has done a number on one of his very few childhood dreams slash memories. So when Steve raises his eyebrows, what he gets is the patented silently polite mule-stubborn Sam Winchester gaze in return. He knows he's right, so he stands his ground.

When Mercy takes Steve off, he holsters his weapon, returns to the chair that he's typically used while guarding the soldier, and settles back down into it. Any pity that was on his features is gone now, and he simply assumes a watchful air. The soldier is way too riled up to even try to talk to right now, so the younger Winchester just focuses on being an island of calm watchfulness instead.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
Once the two are within the front office Mercy will pull a chair out for him. Though she doesn't necessarily think he'll sit, but the silent offer is there.

It's only once the two are settled as best as they can be, that Mercy begins.

"Look -" Comes her voice, her words perhaps a touch more blunt than what she'd normally use, "Our plan is really simple. We're going to fix him. Fix his memories so he remembers who he really is, and then we're going to rescue Claire." And then realizing how harsh that may sound, Mercy's tone softens. Her expression becomes perhaps a bit more understanding, empathetic even. It's obvious from all he's said, all he's done, that he's known Bucky from well before any of them. "With you being his friend I'd suggest you stay. Most of us here have only known him as either Yasha, or what's out there now. Not as Bucky."

Captain America has posed:
Steve's lips part and then press back together. His chin drops and his eyes turn towards Mercy. And, for better or worse, he mirrors her words back to her, not as a parrot, but as someone with very different stakes in all of this, "Look," his tone isn't nearly as blunt, "I don't intend to leave." His eyes flit about the room, "Do you have a family?"

His shoulders slack following the question. "I lost all of them. Every single person I cared about while I was frozen in the ice." He motions back towards the other room vaguely, "I should've been here for him earlier. But I'm not going away. He can utter every threat under the sun, but I long passed my expiry date a last a decade ago, if not more." Slowly, his head turns, "I meant it. I'm with him until the end of the line. Like he was with me."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
His question about her family earns a nod. "I do." Is all she says, listening to the rest of what Captain America says. At his mention of losing all of them, Mercy's expression turns even more somber. She could offer an 'I'm sorry', but at this point she doesn't. Instead, the coyote will say, "You're here now. That's what matters." And she'll try to meet the Captain's eyes, to impress upon him the importance of his being here /now/.

"But let's try not to antagonize him too much. The brainwashing is too deep, I think, for words to break it. Hopefully soon we'll have other means." Though she doesn't necessarily state what those means are. "If you'd really like to help us it'd be great if you could take a round of guard duty. All of us here are running short on sleep." And she'll move back to the door that leads back into the garage.

"Can you let Sam know I'll be out in twenty? I need to make a call while I'm in here."