2701/Broken Bridges

From United Heroes MUSH
Revision as of 04:15, 5 October 2017 by Altair (talk | contribs) (Created page with "{{Log Header |Date of Scene=2017/10/05 |Location=The Triskelion |Synopsis=Bucky and Natasha have a long-avoided but inevitable conversation about their shared history -- and f...")
(diff) ← Older revision | Latest revision (diff) | Newer revision → (diff)
Jump to navigation Jump to search
Broken Bridges
Date of Scene: 05 October 2017
Location: The Triskelion
Synopsis: Bucky and Natasha have a long-avoided but inevitable conversation about their shared history -- and future.
Cast of Characters: Winter Soldier, Black Widow (Romanoff)




Winter Soldier has posed:
Ultimately it turned out that there wasn't much time to wait, as far as the Winter Soldier coming to SHIELD of his own recognizance... as May so eloquently put it. The reclaimed Bucky Barnes certainly felt a considerable urge to ghost into the wind, go to ground, disappear off the radar of everyone who had ever known him well enough to be disappointed or horrified in what he had become. Yet he resisted, firstly because of a debt to Claire Temple... and secondly, because of an even greater guilt than the blood of eighty years on his hands.

The guilt of leaving Steve Rogers when Steve might need him.

Such it is that though it's been hard to face his brother in all but blood, one of the few men he truly admires, he does it. He stays. He found it most fitting he should give himself to the organization dedicated to the eradication of Hydra, though is fully understanding and cognizant of why he is not yet allowed to walk freely without eyes on him at all times, and why his accommodation as Steve's oldest friend comes with a demanded regimen of deprogramming sessions and debriefs on whatever intel he still has on Hydra that is relevant. He cooperates. He is as afraid of reverting as anyone else.

He's just walked out of one such session, with another scheduled in an hour. He's ostensibly free in the time between, though two agents are nearby In Case. He's found himself in a break room on one of the higher floors, though he's not inside -- he's on a small balcony area, out in the open air. Closer inspection reveals it's because he's lighting up to smoke.

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
In her office typing up a report from recent events, Natasha was aware of the Winter Soldier being in the building. He was on her alerts list, along with a few others. If they came in, she was sent a private message by the security software. SHIELD probably was aware she'd set up that little early alart system for herself but it wasn't part of the regular system. Nor did she advertise she had it. It was SHIELD. Everyone still had their secrets or believed they did.

Everytime he has been in the building, she had done her best to remain well away from the areas he visits. She is aware of how her presence could ruin the hard work already put in if they weren't careful. The recent situation had brought them face-to-face though so that reasoning was no longer valid. If her being present was going to affect him, the damage was already done. She had been concerned for him after those events, something she didn't want to admit and had played close to the chest before departing from the rescue scene. He wouldn't appreciate it. She wouldn't either in his shoes.

Yet now, she knew she needed to go speak with him. A few clicks of the keys and she had a location. She shut down her computer. The elevator trip was brief since the break room was two floors below the one holding her office. Entering the break room, she took a moment to find him then walked that way with a purposeful stride. His two watchdogs gave her a nod of acknowledgement as she pushes through the door to the balcony. Once there, she paused, at a loss for words for a moment. Then she asks simply, "Are you doing alright?"

Winter Soldier has posed:
He was aware that she was aware of him. He taught all his Widows well, and her the best of all. No one steps into her web without troubling one of its many little threads.

But he didn't try to seek her out, and he appreciated the distance that she kept. If it was difficult to face Steve Rogers for one reason, it was difficult to face Natalia Alianovna Romanova for another. Steve was a reminder of the goodness in his past, a sort of innocence that is irrevocably lost. Natasha was a reminder of the deep evil in his past, the stain of which will follow him... how long? Likely forever.

Yet he cannot hold whatever she might remind him of against her, especially since she appears to have found her way out of the dark much sooner than he did.

He is aware of her approach before she steps out onto the balcony, before she speaks. He is sitting, but once she enters his space, he automatically rises for the lady. It's an old-fashioned gesture, one which would have seemed a little pretentious on a modern man, but which fits on him. For him it is natural, rather than an affectation. This courtly old gesture was not something the Winter Soldier ever did. The man before her, in attitude and aspect, might as well be a stranger rather than the Yasha she knew. But then, after a moment... he slouches against the railing, leaning against it with a casual air, and in that posture betrays a ghost of the Winter Soldier.

He considers her question with due thought. The answer is not simple or cut and dry, not for him. "...Better than I was a month ago," he eventually decides. A month ago, he was a Hydra pawn. He puts his cigarette, unlit, in his mouth, freeing his hands to offer her the pack if she should want one. They're Belomorkanals, strong and foul and thoroughly old school Soviet Bloc. Interesting choice on his part.

"I didn't look for you," he starts. "I know you wouldn't take it personal."

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
The offered cigarettes lead to a shake of the head from Natasha as she declines. She finds the wall beside the balcony railing to lean against. She lifts one foot off, placing the sole against the wall at about knee level. "Of course not. You needed time. Still do," she adds with a slight frown on her lips.

She has to trust that Steve knows what he is doing, having brought Bucky back into the field so soon. Perhaps he had thought the rescue would be something simple, a walk in the park. Or perhaps he thought that it was good to get him back in action. Bucky was his best friend in the past and, with his memory restored, certainly was resuming that role. He knows Bucky. She knew Yasha. They are not the same person. Never were. It's something she has had to come to grips with so the month apart was good for her as well. Though there are remnants of the man she knew, the one before her is a stranger.

"I won't bother you long." She knows she is a reminder to him. Something painful he shouldn't be subjected to. "I wanted to say two things. First, it gets better. While my situation was not the same as yours, I can tell you that once you are away from it, it does improve. You and I are realists. Or, we were. I'm not sure if you still are now," she admits with a half shrug. "It will never go away entirely and it will never go back to the way it was. Each day though, it gets easier to deal with."

Winter Soldier has posed:
Bucky doesn't look terribly surprised Natasha doesn't want the cigarette. In fact, he looks briefly self-recriminatory. Of course, she would not want a reminder any more than he does... though for him, the fact these strong old things still do a /little/ something for him, where practically nothing else does, makes up for the bad memories they bring.

Tucking the pack away, he lights up-- making sure he's downwind of her-- and leans against the railing. He props his left arm on it, and the metal clinks lightly against metal. He is silent through the two things she has to say, his gaze cast off towards the distant horizon.

"That's good to hear," is his initial reply, "from someone who has gone before." He lapses back into silence a few moments more, thinking.

"It's the quiet which is the worst," he eventually says. "You know? The times you're doing nothing is when you have the time to remember. So this, you..." He shakes his head. "No bother. I tried being alone. I found out I'm not the kinda person I wanna be alone with for long." He takes a long drag of the cigarette, one which would have set just about anyone else to coughing. Bucky, he just breathes out a long stream of smoke, letting that punctuate the thought.

"I did you wrong, Natalia," he concludes quietly. "That's what /I/ got to say. I did. I still am a lot of things I used to be, when you knew me. Yasha and I..." He shrugs, and the self-hatred is keen as a knife. "Not that much difference. Not enough I can point and say, 'not me.' They built him out of me.""

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
That gets a frown and she brings her foot back to the floor before pushing off from the wall. She faces him squarely, standing up to her full 5'4" height as though she was someone of a much larger stature. She knew it was coming. She had seen that look in the warehouse. The way he had turned away from her and shifted his shoulders enough she read the emotions he wasn't hiding as well as he may have hoped.

"That's where you have it wrong," she says firmly. "You are James Barnes, a.k.a. Bucky. You are a soldier who was taken and changed. They erased who you were and though they may have kept some of the skills, they created Yasha. No, not even Yasha. The Winter Soldier. They molded you like clay into what they wanted. It was not you." She takes a step forward, into his space. "It was Never you."

Her voice softens slightly. "You don't owe me any apologies and you should feel no guilt for anything in our past. You should feel no more guilt than a bullet fired from a gun should. We both know that's what you were to them. A weapon. Now, you are able to make that choice I spoke about months ago." She gives a half shrug. "If you choose the right path, then we move forward and I will try to help you cope as I can. If the quiet is a problem, I'm certain we can find things to keep you busy, especially with your skill set." Skills so like her own yet his specialties differing. Her expression shifts, a hard look coming into her green eyes. "If you choose the wrong path, then we go back to being on opposite sides."

Winter Soldier has posed:
Bucky blinks, stilling down to no more than the idle rising of his cigarette's smoke, as something he says puts steel into her spine and a flash in her eyes. There is a moment where his own narrow, remembering years long past in which he would not have tolerated such defiance from her.

Then, just as quickly -- it passes. They are no longer what they once were, and she has every right to get on his case. More than every right. His gaze lowers, a mixture of shame and acknowledgement, up until she demands it again by stepping into his space.

He stiffens, his frame tensing at her closeness. His left arm murmurs at his side, a musical hum of its innards and a click of its external plates. None of these responses are a threat, though the two agents still sitting in the break room certainly rest their hands inches from their weapons. They indicate the discomfort of a man who is no longer accustomed to physical closeness -- who was, for decades, never approached nor touched in kindness or compassion. Only to cause pain.

It was never you, she says. "No," he admits. "I guess not. "All those memories are mine to keep, though. Hurting you--" He stops, and doesn't continue. She would not appreciate it being spoken of, he thinks.

He relaxes a little when her voice gentles, though he tries to avert his gaze again. "We were weapons," he concurs tiredly. "Now..." He shrugs. "I still am one, though preferably choosing to fire at the right targets." Brief levity draws his features into half a smirk. "There's no fear of me /choosing/ the wrong path, Natalia. If I am forced..." He looks, oddly, reassured by the sudden hardness that flashes into her gaze. "I know you'll do what you must. Though I'd prefer not to put that burden on your hands at all."

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
With that, Natasha steps backwards twice, giving that normal distance that is required for people of their experience. "The memories are there for both of us. You are no longer alone." Then she glances toward the break room to the two guards keeping watch. Her frown is dark and she stares at them until they shift uncomfortably and move their hands away from their weapons. She continues until they actually look away, making sure they know she has the situation well in hand. After all, there is no situation. They are simply speaking but she had needed to emphasize her point. They don't need jumpy agents pulling weapons just because they are a lower level and don't realize what is really going on outside.

Turning back to look at Bucky, she shrugs once more. "There will never be that need then if you do not choose the path. If you are forced, we bring you back. Again. And again if necessary. You will never be left behind now that we have you back." It is a vow by the way she speaks it, a promise of belonging.

A faint smirk touches her lips. "You remember John Aaron? A while back he offered some advice in regards to your situation. Before you were recovered. I'm thinking of acting on it now, to let them know it would be in their best interests to leave you alone. Thanks to the information you've provided, I should have some areas I can start hunting." She flicks her gaze up to him appraisingly. "If you need to keep your mind busy, perhaps you can help me."

Winter Soldier has posed:
The two agents look completely abashed as they catch the disapproving eye of the Black Widow. They go back to minding their own business. Certainly they had to know that being the minders for the former Winter Soldier was more of a 'hit the panic button if he loses his shit' deal than any expectation that they would actually out-gunfight him. Or out-anyfight him.

Bucky doesn't even seem aware that they exist, though of course that is just the appearance of indifference. The entire interaction goes unremarked upon, as he stares at the floor and reflects upon the sort of kindness that forgives and welcomes back without censure or judgment. "I appreciate it," he says lowly. I will work, he does not add aloud, until I deserve it.

Mention of John Aaron actually brings a smile to his features that is halfway genuine. "Who can forget John Aaron?" he wonders, largely rhetorically. "The last time I saw him the parting was a little awkward, but I think he'll excuse me on account of Winter Soldier." He cants his head. "I can guess at his advice."

His blue eyes briefly reflect the ice of the Winter Soldier. "No perhaps about it. There's a certain class of person I'm always ready to take out, Natasha. Steve and I set out to erase Hydra eighty-five years ago. Seeing as the job's not done, we mean to finish."

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"Then we are in accord. I don't know that they can be wiped out entirely, but I intend to try. If I don't succeed, I plan to kill enough of them that they never go near you again." That edge is back, that part of her that is not the good SHIELD agent following orders and doing what is right. Natasha's birthright is being an angel of death. It is what she is made for and, in this moment, she is embracing that nature. "Now, I'm certain the Director will be supportive of any attempts to derail Hydra but I doubt he will approve of ou--my methods." A bit of a stumble as she remembered it wasn't his methods necessarily. She has to remember that he is a different person with different viewpoints. Certainly hanging around the boy scout, he will likely be curbed of his more violent tendencies. Though, now he is his own man and even in that he can choose.

There is a soft beep from her left wrist. She glances at what looks like a watchband there then drops her arm back to her side. "Duty calls. We'll have to continue this discussion later." She reaches into the pocket of her slacks and pulls out a cellphone. She flips it open and taps the screen then turns it so he can see the digits displayed. "My number. If you want to reach me." He could've found it himself. It is a sign of respect and trust that she shares it insstead of forcing him to take those steps.

Winter Soldier has posed:
They're very proud of the whole 'cut off one head and two more will take its place,' thing," Bucky says dryly, "but I've seen firsthand where that runs into problems. To get that kind of redundancy, organizationally you have to make some... sacrifices." The smile that crosses his face is not the sort of smile one would ever associate with a boy scout. It's the kind of knife-edge smile a man starts to wear after he's made his thousandth kill, and washed his hands in the blood. "And they don't talk about the part where you burn the stump so the heads don't come back."

There is a thoughtful cast to his gaze, though, a surprise and muted amusement at the unexpected chivalry of a woman vowing to kill to protect /him/. It's new and fresh to a man who, in many ways, still thinks culturally like a man from the forties.

He does see that edge to her, that slight baring of her innate killer's claws, but unlike most... it seems to be what he expects of her, and the sight of it he takes for granted in a way most in SHIELD -- in America -- would not. It is a nature he even embraces for himself; she corrects herself, not sure if that's quite who /he/ -- Bucky Barnes -- is, but gently and firmly, he corrects her back: "Our. That much about me isn't different. This was what I did long before the Winter Soldier."

Discussion of the particulars can wait until later. He glances at the screen of her phone when she presents it, apparently blessed with photographic memory, before he-- much more analog-- paws up a slip of paper and gives her a number in turn. "I use burners," he says. "Habit. You get the one I check the most."

His hand lingers a moment after passing the number over, before dropping back to his side. Some of the burden seems to have lifted from his shoulders. "I'm glad you found your way here," he says, nonspecific about whether he means here, to this balcony, in this moment... or something broader, more encompassing of the arc of her life. "After everything. Spokoinoi nochi, Natasha."