2437/Soldiering Onward

Soldiering Onward
Date of Scene:	13 September 2017
Location:	West Harlem
Synopsis:	Steve Rogers visits Mercy's garage and silver bullets are given.
Cast of Characters:	Mercy Thompson, Captain America

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Mercy Thompson has posed:
Several days have come and gone since the rescue of Claire Temple. While the garage is still closed due to a 'family emergency' the garage is anything but silent.

There's still a business within it, as Mercy sets things back to right, but also makes sure her two new residents are as comfortable as they can be.

Along with that she's tried to give them as much privacy as possible, as such the mechanic has put herself into a self-imposed exile out into the actual workshop of her garage.

That's where she can be found now. Boxes surround her, some packed, some not, most seem to be packed with the left over bombs that were built. Before any of the bombs are packed within the cardboard boxes, however, Mercy carefully diffuses them with a snip, or pull, of the main wire.

Lastly, the large segmented door that allows cars entry into the workshop is open today, admitting the sun and fresh-air and also allowing the soft strands of music to float outwards to the parking lot.

Captain America has posed:
A familiar figure in khakis and a t-shirt treads up to the large open door. The smile on Steve's face has some semblance of warmth, but it hardly negates the fatigue pulling at each nuance of his features. His sallow face, shadowed eyes, and heavy shoulders all indicate that Steve isn't quite himself. Even if he attempts to mask the lie in a smile and return to Captain America-grade fun.

His slow paces draw him to where the Coyote packs the boxes and he issues her a side-smile. "Need a hand?" the offer is genuine and easily given. Steve Rogers has been around the garage whenever he's managed to borrow time from either SHIELD or the Avengers. And now that Barnes has joined his efforts (wherever they may be), during off time, they're both around here. It's not in Steve's nature to let go of his friend.

The music earns a small smile. "You know, music is one of the weirder things to come back to. Nothing about it sounds right."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
The coyote's keen ears hear the light tread of footsteps upon the asphalt. As such, when Captain America appears within the doorway of her garage, Mercy has already pivoted just enough to look toward the door. There's an alertness to her gaze and to her body, as she waits to see who it is and when she sees just who's visiting, some of that tension eases.

Seeing the marks of exhaustion around the good Captain, Mercy can't quite stop the general looking over she gives him. A hint of worry reflects in her eyes after that assessment of the man, but for now, she says nothing.

His greeting and offer of a helping hand earns a smile from Mercy, and also a nod. "Hey, if you're offering I won't pass on it -" She says with a quirk of a grin, "I'm trying to get these packed away before I reopen the garage. I'd hate to explain to a customer just what these were." Along with that half-grin is a note of humor that can be heard within her voice too. "Let me show you had to disconnect the fuse first."

And she'll do just as she says - showing him how to open the units and then which wires to disconnected.

When he seems okay with the process Mercy will step back to her side of the workbench. The mention of music pulls her attention away from the bomb she's currently defusing. Automatically her gaze goes from the Captain to the small radio that plays the music. She'll listen to the song for a few seconds, before her eyes move back to the Captain. "I imagine it would be. Everything probably seems jarring?" She hazards a guess, as she keeps her attention upon the man across from her.

Captain America has posed:
During the War, Steve learned to do a lot of tasks very quickly. He's a fast learner, even if he is a bit out of his element, and there's ease in being able to dismantle the bombs after some brief instruction. Undoubtedly, a sense of satisfaction emits from him as he continues the process time and time again. "Probably equally easy to arm if needed later, huh?" he asks while going about his work. "It's a useful talent--being able to build these things."

His lips hitch up on one side and he shoots her a crooked, but toothy grin. "Waking up in the morning is jarring. I don't know if you've ever served," because he doesn't presume to know everyone's life, "but coming back from a tour makes everything feel wrong." He shrugs slightly, "Coming back from a War where suddenly the whole world has jumped light years into the future?" His cheeks puff out with exasperation. "It's another world. I'm not even sure there's room for old ideals here." And that's the honest truth.

"But music? That's the weirdest part of all. It's one of the few things we can think of as consistent. But with this much time? Nothing about it sounds right. Not even recording quality."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
His question about ease of armament is returned with a nod and a smile, as the coyote says, "Yup. We made these bombs to be easy to assemble from the most basic of parts. There wasn't enough time to make anything much more complicated, honestly."

Not when the Winter Soldier was stalking them. Thankfully, that thought isn't said not when Steve Rogers is here.

The bomb that's in her hands is tucked within the box, atop another one now, as Mercy Thompson continues her work. It's almost the opposite of an assembly line now. Unmaking and packing away.

When Steve begins to speak further about the world he's woken up into, Mercy falls silent. It's an attentive listening, however, as she switches her gaze from bomb to Captain and then back again. It's only when he finishes his various thoughts that Mercy will pause in her packing again. "I never served." She says to that initial question of his, "But many of the wolves I lived with did. They've mentioned feeling the same way. I'd like to say it gets better, but I'll be honest, it'll probably take awhile for you." Because of his jump ahead, "I'm going to take a guess here and say you're probably feeling the way a person does after they've been changed. They had their life before the wolf and then their life after the wolf. Two distinct lives. It's always a transition."

As to the topic of recording quality, Mercy grins. "Yes, nowadays you can actually hear the bass on the recording."

Captain America has posed:
It gets better. "Does it?" Steve asks perhaps too honestly. "Everywhere I look I see a world that isn't the one I aimed to save." At that he goes back to his work. It's easier to take out fuses than genuinely consider how the world has (or hasn't) changed. "It's a different world. And what we did, the lives we lost," it's unclear whether he's talking about himself or those that actually died, "well, begs questions whether--" no. He won't finish the thought. He cuts himself off and shoots Mercy a tight-lipped smile before dropping his chin and going back to his work.

"Even the beds feel wrong. /The beds/. In service you're lucky if you got a cot. Pull up some ground and a rock if you have to." His eyebrows lift at that and he goes back to his machinations, blue eyes honing in on the bomb in his hands. Dexterity makes quick work of the one in his hands and he moves to yet another.

"Yeah, it's a wonder anyone can hear the music over the bass," he quips easily enough.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
Another silver sphere is gently placed within a box, even as she continues to work the woman keeps the majority of her attention upon Steve. It's his next words that pulls a vague frown from Mercy Thompson. Likewise a flare of nostrils, as she scents the air around the two. Trying to see what cues she can pick up from his own.

Eventually she considers her answers to what he says. "It does." She states firmly, and then with a gentler tone she adds, "And just because it's not the world you aimed to save doesn't mean it's not worth saving - or a good world. There are bad things out there - we just fought one in fact - but there's also so much good. Every day people helping with every day problems. People coming together when bigger tragedy strikes."

"The sacrifice you and everyone have made was and is worth it. Otherwise we'd find ourselves in a world likely ruled by something terrible, something like Hydra." And with Hydra so named, Mercy's tone turns hard. Tight. It's clear she now has a particular hatred for that group.

The mention of the beds feeling wrong and the bass allows Mercy's expression to ease slightly. To something less angry, less tense. "You could always sleep on the floor if it'll make you feel better." She adds, lobbing a light quip right back at him. That light-hearted quip doesn't last long for the mechanic, not when Mercy continues with, "Have you talked much with James?" Hesitation can be heard with that question, even more when Mercy says the Winter Soldier's name.

Captain America has posed:
Steve's throat closes at the mention of the world being ruled by Hydra. His face blanches. His fingers tremble and his eyes close lightly. A few cleansing breaths and he manages to retain some colour in his face, albeit very little. "The promise of freedom was black and white. I'm not convinced it is anymore." With that said, his fingers attempt to return to the bomb he's working on, only to tremble again. He sets it down and issues Mercy a one shouldered shrug.

"I do sleep on the floor," he shoots her a lopsided grin despite his face not remotely matching the expression. "Or the train.. if I have to." That remark has his eyebrows lifting and his head shaking. "The motion. Reminds me of convoys." He shrugs again and then refocuses on the bomb at hand. His hands seem to have lost their tremor. He's fine.

The mention of James has his head tilting. "Buck and I talked. Some." It's honest, but it's also vague. "I know all of you have all the reason in the world not to trust him being here. That none of you have any reason to feel comfortable around him." His head turns to face her, "But he's my friend." There's a pause. "We were both orphans. Two kids. And before I looked like," his lips quirk into a bittersweet smile, "well, Captain America, Bucky saw me. He saw me never walk away from a fight even when I should've. He saw me standing up for the Little Guy despite being the smaller guy. And he always bailed me out."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
Mercy watches the reaction Steve has to the thought of Hydra ruling the world. While she meant what she said, she hadn't meant to provoke such a strong reaction with her words. As such, the mechanic's expression turns apologetic as Steve tries retain some measure of balance. That one shouldered shrug of his earns another apologetic look from Mercy, though she doesn't necessarily verbalize it.

"Even though the lines are blurred that doesn't mean we shouldn't continue to fight."

The mention of sleeping on the floor and the train earns another quirk of a smile from Mercy. While she doesn't add anything more to the thought of convoys and sleep, that doesn't mean she's not listening. She is. Her work pauses (again) when he reveals some of his and Bucky's background. The issue of trust is addressed first by Mercy, as she states, "It's not that we don't trust him -" She begins, trying to find the right words, "For me I have to reconcile the logical side of my brain with the emotional part. The logical side knows it wasn't his fault, that he's just as much a victim as any of us, but the emotional side struggles to accept that he's no longer going to attack us. I'm going to assume that's what most people are struggling with; eventually that'll get better too."

And then, lastly, she adds, "It's good to have a friend like that. Never apologize for that. Or your friendship with him."

Captain America has posed:
There's a small lift of Steve's eyebrows. "Just a matter of making sure you're fighting on the right side," comes the slow response. "And that you haven't become too influenced by the rest of it. That you remain focused on the things that actually matter--the principles that drew you to fight in the first place." He manages a quirk of his lips and a nod towards Mercy.

But the mention of Bucky sobers any merriment. "I'm not going anywhere. Not again. When we were in Bucky's mind... the cold dream. It was the Swiss alps. I mean," he looks towards her, "what actually happened." His eyebrows draw together and he swallows hard around the growing lump in his throat. "The lie was easier to watch. I lost him... and I don't mean in the figurative sense of the word, but /I/ didn't catch him. I literally lost him." He manages a self-deprecating smile. "I was devastated. And one of the drawbacks of the serum--I can't even get drunk." His nose wrinkles. "So no. I won't apologize for being his friend. But it's hard for me to see what you do." He shrugs again and finally moves one of the metallic orbs to the box.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
The naming of the Swiss Alps has Mercy nodding. "I knew they didn't belong in the false memory, but I didn't know what mountain range it was." Murmurs the coyote, but anything else that she could say is stifled when Steve explains some of what happened. Even with that explanation of his, Mercy understands she still doesn't know the complete story. That doesn't mean she can't offer comforting words, however.

"But he's back now. Not lost, or thinking he's someone else, but returned." States the mechanic, her gaze upon the man across from her.

It's those last words that causes Mercy to nod, "It's going to take time for the group to be okay with his presence. That's not fair, I know, but you strike me as someone who likes honesty and the truth is it's just going to take time. Just keep reminding everyone what sort of person he really is. That'll help people see him less as the Winter Soldier and more as the man you knew."

And perhaps deciding that the conversation has gotten a bit too heavy, Mercy will say with some forced lightness, "Can't get drunk? That's a shame. Still that doesn't mean you can't go out and have fun with friends. Perhaps we should do something like that when the group is on more stable ground."

"Something other than Hydra, and kidnappings and magical artifacts that might destroy all of us."

Captain America has posed:
"Makes me wonder how Hydra managed to so easily circumvent it with their mind," he shakes his head. No. Not worth going there. "And you're right. He's back. And we're aiming to hurt Hydra however we can. To stop them. To finish the work we started. Bucky and I." There's a pause. "But you'd all be welcome. I'm with SHIELD and our goals..." he shrugs. "Just... continue to consult."

"But yeah, it'd be good to just have fun for awhile." That's something that Steve hasn't really done since he woke up: there is no social life for Captain America.

"We'll make that happen." And then with a laugh he adds, "Maybe I'll learn how to dance. Finally." But the humour drains from his face. He saw Peggy. Once they were away. He saw her as he lives and breathes. He manages another tight smile.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
"Yes." Is Mercy's immediate response to the invitation in taking Hydra down, "Yes, /we'll/ all help take them down. The whole lot of them." And here is where her voice and gaze turns hard again, her expression stony. "And speaking of such things -" The coyote steps away from the workbench for a moment, turning to another, where another box sits. An ammunition box by the looks of it. The heavy box will be picked up and then slide over towards Steve. "If more Hydra wolves appear - Silver bullets. Best bet is either to the head or the heart." States the woman grimly, factually, "Silver in the limbs burns, but it won't kill quickly. It'd take days for them to die of silver poisoning."

Once those matter-of-fact instructions are given, Mercy turns back to the lighter side of this particular conversation. "You don't know how to dance? Then yes, we'll have to make it happen." And while Mercy was about to say something more her words pause, when Steve's expression loses that good humor of his. "You ok?"

Captain America has posed:
The box is taken and a meaningful nod follows. "Good. It's good we've got more hands. I don't think it'll be easy. We were supposed to have done it already." That's what the War was about. That's why they gave it all up. "Time to finish." They had plenty of hands on deck last time and still failed to wipe Hydra out. They'll need plenty more.

The question about dancing earns a chuckle, "No reason to learn to be honest. Not exactly needed for the puny guy and definitely not necessary for a soldier." He shrugs and then nods. "I'd like that," to learn. But the last gets a nod. "Yeah... I'm okay. I think we're all just a bit shaken with what happened. We'll all be fine."

He inhales a long breath and then claps his hands together. "But I should get back to SHIELD. I wanted to check in on Buck and Claire, but I'll come back later. Take it easy, Mercy." And with that he turns on his heel, box in hand, to head to the Triskelion.