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[ When it comes to the list of people he has to make amends to, "the entirety of the SHIELD organisation" is a little hard to manage.
It's not like the Winter Soldier was personally responsible for the HYDRA uprising, but he undoubtedly contributed: he shot Nick Fury. Infiltrated and helped take down the helicarriers, plummeting them out of the sky. He figures he owes them— something, he's not entirely sure what, but there's those ancient ties of loyalty to the Strategic Scientific Reserve, too. And HYDRA is far from gone (cut off one head, two more shall take its place), so it's likely his experience could come in handy. He knew the people involved over the years, met them, took orders from them. Maybe he'd like to chip in and help out. Maybe he'd just like to see those men and women burn, too.
All of the above is true.
So when SHIELD calls, Bucky answers. To their credit, they don't yank on his strings; they don't tell him that he's required to do anything for them as a condition of his pardon, so he makes his way to the headquarters in Midtown of his own volition — unbeknownst to him, the exact same building where Steve had first woken up. Bucky checks in at reception, and when he hands over his ID, the bored receptionist looks at the name, and recognises it, jolts, and then looks up at him, startled.
Welcome back, sergeant. Someone will be with you shortly.
So he's standing in the bustling lobby, hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket, killing some time by staring at the Wall of Valor. His expression eventually turns into a frown as he looks at the large memorial, taking in the names, his own engraved as one of the fallen. When some footsteps approach him from behind, he automatically notes the sound, picks it out from the surrounding white noise — some habits will never change — but he doesn't react much. Just glances to the side as the darkhaired woman draws closer; presumably the agent sent to retrieve him. ]
Hey. You my escort?
It's not like the Winter Soldier was personally responsible for the HYDRA uprising, but he undoubtedly contributed: he shot Nick Fury. Infiltrated and helped take down the helicarriers, plummeting them out of the sky. He figures he owes them— something, he's not entirely sure what, but there's those ancient ties of loyalty to the Strategic Scientific Reserve, too. And HYDRA is far from gone (cut off one head, two more shall take its place), so it's likely his experience could come in handy. He knew the people involved over the years, met them, took orders from them. Maybe he'd like to chip in and help out. Maybe he'd just like to see those men and women burn, too.
All of the above is true.
So when SHIELD calls, Bucky answers. To their credit, they don't yank on his strings; they don't tell him that he's required to do anything for them as a condition of his pardon, so he makes his way to the headquarters in Midtown of his own volition — unbeknownst to him, the exact same building where Steve had first woken up. Bucky checks in at reception, and when he hands over his ID, the bored receptionist looks at the name, and recognises it, jolts, and then looks up at him, startled.
Welcome back, sergeant. Someone will be with you shortly.
So he's standing in the bustling lobby, hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket, killing some time by staring at the Wall of Valor. His expression eventually turns into a frown as he looks at the large memorial, taking in the names, his own engraved as one of the fallen. When some footsteps approach him from behind, he automatically notes the sound, picks it out from the surrounding white noise — some habits will never change — but he doesn't react much. Just glances to the side as the darkhaired woman draws closer; presumably the agent sent to retrieve him. ]
Hey. You my escort?
[ It had been Daisy's idea for SHIELD to reach out to Bucky Barnes when they first got word of another HYDRA cell emerging from the shadows. They've spent the last decade trying to stamp out the cult turned terrorist organization, and for a while they'd thought they'd finally gotten the last one. It was too good to be true, though, just like it had been back in the 40s. And because their own sources had run dry, why not turn to the person who had just as much reason to want HYDRA stopped?
Mack had been pretty easy to convince. It helped that he'd learned long ago to trust Daisy's instincts, first when they'd been partners and then after she'd nominated and voted for him to take over as Director. He hadn't failed her yet and she'd done the same. That was why he'd suggested she be the one to work with Barnes — she hadn't needed any convincing.
Even now, as she approaches the man standing at the memorial exactly where she'd stood over a decade ago, it's hard to rein in her instinct to completely fangirl over the hero. That's what he'd always been in her mind, HYDRA or no. Bucky Barnes was a hero, a war veteran, a Howling Commando. He hadn't deserved any of the shit that had happened to him and she felt like SHIELD had an obligation to do whatever they could to apologize for the part they'd played in his suffering. ]
Actually, I'm your partner for this op. [ Okay, there's absolutely no holding back the pleased smile that spreads across her face. She holds out her hand to shake. ] Agent Daisy Johnson. It's an honor, Sergeant Barnes.
Mack had been pretty easy to convince. It helped that he'd learned long ago to trust Daisy's instincts, first when they'd been partners and then after she'd nominated and voted for him to take over as Director. He hadn't failed her yet and she'd done the same. That was why he'd suggested she be the one to work with Barnes — she hadn't needed any convincing.
Even now, as she approaches the man standing at the memorial exactly where she'd stood over a decade ago, it's hard to rein in her instinct to completely fangirl over the hero. That's what he'd always been in her mind, HYDRA or no. Bucky Barnes was a hero, a war veteran, a Howling Commando. He hadn't deserved any of the shit that had happened to him and she felt like SHIELD had an obligation to do whatever they could to apologize for the part they'd played in his suffering. ]
Actually, I'm your partner for this op. [ Okay, there's absolutely no holding back the pleased smile that spreads across her face. She holds out her hand to shake. ] Agent Daisy Johnson. It's an honor, Sergeant Barnes.
[ It's an honour. Those innocent words trip something in him, a blink-and-you'll-miss-it flicker across his expression that's almost a wince. But he holds out his right hand and shakes hers firmly, politely. He's wearing gloves; they already know who he is, and yet old habits die hard, and so he'd found himself automatically reaching for them this morning like he was donning a suit of armour. ]
Nice to meet you, Agent Johnson. Looking forward to it.
[ His gaze trawls over the woman, taking her in and sizing her up, instinctively trying to assess her capabilities at a glance, although he knows it's futile. There's no standard for what a SHIELD agent is supposed to look like — anonymous white men in suits, maybe, the Coulson model, but through run-ins with the organisation over the years he's been realising that not everyone always fits that model. So his partner might as well be a pretty young brunette.
But that word, honour, is still caught behind his teeth, so Bucky tips his head to the Wall of Valor: the elegant memorial, the long line of names, the various emblems of the organisation over the years. This question has been nagging at him ever since he first learned about it, and even moreso now that he's seeing it in-person, like a pebble grinding in his shoe. ]
Isn't it a little weird, me being up there when I'm—
[ A disgraced, albeit pardoned, mass murderer? ]
—not dead? Or is it just no one wants to foot the bill for re-engraving the stone?
[ A tug at the corner of his mouth; dry humour. ]
Nice to meet you, Agent Johnson. Looking forward to it.
[ His gaze trawls over the woman, taking her in and sizing her up, instinctively trying to assess her capabilities at a glance, although he knows it's futile. There's no standard for what a SHIELD agent is supposed to look like — anonymous white men in suits, maybe, the Coulson model, but through run-ins with the organisation over the years he's been realising that not everyone always fits that model. So his partner might as well be a pretty young brunette.
But that word, honour, is still caught behind his teeth, so Bucky tips his head to the Wall of Valor: the elegant memorial, the long line of names, the various emblems of the organisation over the years. This question has been nagging at him ever since he first learned about it, and even moreso now that he's seeing it in-person, like a pebble grinding in his shoe. ]
Isn't it a little weird, me being up there when I'm—
[ A disgraced, albeit pardoned, mass murderer? ]
—not dead? Or is it just no one wants to foot the bill for re-engraving the stone?
[ A tug at the corner of his mouth; dry humour. ]
Edited (oop endless edits) 2021-04-28 12:54 (UTC)
[ Brief as it is, she catches that flicker in his expression, putting the puzzle pieces together enough to understand she'd said the wrong thing. Not that he points it out, of course; doing so would just open wounds he likely would rather not address with a total stranger. So she lets it pass — just for a moment. The humor is easier to deal with, anyway. ]
We've all died at least once around here. [ A shrug and a smile that makes it seem like that's a completely normal thing for a person to say. ] Some of us, a few times. Just because it doesn't always stick doesn't invalidate the sacrifices made.
[ Especially in their line of work, where their secrets have secrets and the cost of keeping them can sometimes be too high. Look at what happened with Coulson. His first death had cut him off from the Avengers, the team he'd helped put together, and from a woman he'd really cared about. And Bucky... He'd lost everything when he died back in the '40s. No, his name deserves to be on that wall.
Crossing her arms, she glances down for a moment, visibly weighing her words before looking up again. She can't just let it sit after all. ]
I'll tell the others to hold back on the "it's an honor" thing as much as they can. No guarantees, the Howling Commandos are chapter one of every SHIELD history book, but they'll try their best.
We've all died at least once around here. [ A shrug and a smile that makes it seem like that's a completely normal thing for a person to say. ] Some of us, a few times. Just because it doesn't always stick doesn't invalidate the sacrifices made.
[ Especially in their line of work, where their secrets have secrets and the cost of keeping them can sometimes be too high. Look at what happened with Coulson. His first death had cut him off from the Avengers, the team he'd helped put together, and from a woman he'd really cared about. And Bucky... He'd lost everything when he died back in the '40s. No, his name deserves to be on that wall.
Crossing her arms, she glances down for a moment, visibly weighing her words before looking up again. She can't just let it sit after all. ]
I'll tell the others to hold back on the "it's an honor" thing as much as they can. No guarantees, the Howling Commandos are chapter one of every SHIELD history book, but they'll try their best.
Well, yeah, if Jim Morita were standing here, that'd be one thing. But I'm not exactly—
[ He hesitates again. The easier thing would be to just push past it, politely wave it off and proceed to their briefing and their work and the mission — cool, professional, businesslike — but Buck's never been good at keeping it professional. He's too emotional, too hot under the collar despite that carefully-honed neutral expression that he wields by default. So the fact that he's standing here, inside the bones and belly of an organisation that he'd helped topple, the disjoint keeps sawing on all his edges.
And so he can't let it sit, either. In the end, he opts for bluntness: ]
Let's just put it this way: I was surprised to get the call. Me and SHIELD don't exactly have the best history. The Winter Soldier left a lot of agents dead.
[ He's keeping his gaze fixed on hers — with a little too intense of a stare, perhaps, but it's to resist the temptation to peer all around them at the other agents passing by. His shoulderblades are itching, just waiting for the inevitable: people to goggle, stare, point, glower. ]
[ He hesitates again. The easier thing would be to just push past it, politely wave it off and proceed to their briefing and their work and the mission — cool, professional, businesslike — but Buck's never been good at keeping it professional. He's too emotional, too hot under the collar despite that carefully-honed neutral expression that he wields by default. So the fact that he's standing here, inside the bones and belly of an organisation that he'd helped topple, the disjoint keeps sawing on all his edges.
And so he can't let it sit, either. In the end, he opts for bluntness: ]
Let's just put it this way: I was surprised to get the call. Me and SHIELD don't exactly have the best history. The Winter Soldier left a lot of agents dead.
[ He's keeping his gaze fixed on hers — with a little too intense of a stare, perhaps, but it's to resist the temptation to peer all around them at the other agents passing by. His shoulderblades are itching, just waiting for the inevitable: people to goggle, stare, point, glower. ]
[ That intense stare doesn't bother her. She meets it without hesitation, not giving in to the nagging instinct to look away. This is an important conversation that will help define their relationship; it deserves every ounce of her attention. ]
What you did as the Winter Soldier wasn't your choice. HYDRA made you into a weapon and forced you to comply. You weren't the last to suffer that fate; everyone here knows what HYDRA is capable of.
[ They can't even begin to guess at how many people were brainwashed by HYDRA over the years, forced to be soldiers against their will. And that's not even taking into account things like the Incentives Program, where people's families were taken by HYDRA and used as leverage to ensure compliance. The organizations goals and methods had both been the very definition of evil.
Her expression softens slightly, something sad mixing into the determined set of her features. This next part is just as important, especially because it's not something he's likely to already know. ]
And SHIELD owes you a debt. If we had seen what was happening and done something to stop it, then so many of the horrible things you endured might have been avoided. [ She pauses for just a moment, then pushes through. ] There were some who saw what was going on and tried to stop it, but it wasn't enough. They failed and you suffered for it. So whatever we can do to repay that debt even in some small way, we will.
What you did as the Winter Soldier wasn't your choice. HYDRA made you into a weapon and forced you to comply. You weren't the last to suffer that fate; everyone here knows what HYDRA is capable of.
[ They can't even begin to guess at how many people were brainwashed by HYDRA over the years, forced to be soldiers against their will. And that's not even taking into account things like the Incentives Program, where people's families were taken by HYDRA and used as leverage to ensure compliance. The organizations goals and methods had both been the very definition of evil.
Her expression softens slightly, something sad mixing into the determined set of her features. This next part is just as important, especially because it's not something he's likely to already know. ]
And SHIELD owes you a debt. If we had seen what was happening and done something to stop it, then so many of the horrible things you endured might have been avoided. [ She pauses for just a moment, then pushes through. ] There were some who saw what was going on and tried to stop it, but it wasn't enough. They failed and you suffered for it. So whatever we can do to repay that debt even in some small way, we will.
That's not...
[ His voice trails off, trying and failing to find the right words. It just doesn't track, like a formula that isn't adding up right. How many of her colleagues dead, just because they happened to get in the way of the Winter Soldier and his mission? He remembers flinging one of them almost disdainfully into the engine of one of the SHIELD jets; the ensuing explosion, the burst of heat at his back, the sickly smell of burning flesh, and the Soldier not batting an eye. Bucky remembers it as clearly as if he'd chosen to do it himself.
He wonders what they told that agent's family, if he had one. ]
The way I figure it, I'm the one who owes a debt, Johnson. But okay. If you say so.
[ It's clear he doesn't really believe her, but he can tell they're gonna be stuck here all day otherwise, both trying to valiantly pardon the other. He exhales a sigh. ]
Either way, guess the best revenge is for the both of us is to punch back at the people really responsible, huh?
[ That's one thing he'll have in common with anyone, at the end of the day: a desire to leave HYDRA burning in the rubble. ]
[ His voice trails off, trying and failing to find the right words. It just doesn't track, like a formula that isn't adding up right. How many of her colleagues dead, just because they happened to get in the way of the Winter Soldier and his mission? He remembers flinging one of them almost disdainfully into the engine of one of the SHIELD jets; the ensuing explosion, the burst of heat at his back, the sickly smell of burning flesh, and the Soldier not batting an eye. Bucky remembers it as clearly as if he'd chosen to do it himself.
He wonders what they told that agent's family, if he had one. ]
The way I figure it, I'm the one who owes a debt, Johnson. But okay. If you say so.
[ It's clear he doesn't really believe her, but he can tell they're gonna be stuck here all day otherwise, both trying to valiantly pardon the other. He exhales a sigh. ]
Either way, guess the best revenge is for the both of us is to punch back at the people really responsible, huh?
[ That's one thing he'll have in common with anyone, at the end of the day: a desire to leave HYDRA burning in the rubble. ]
lang. he doesn't have his kid this week which means he gets bored which means he texts us absolute bullshit, and i might or might not have mentioned i've been working with a certain SHIELD agent
[ 'working' with a SHIELD agent or flirting with one? it's a thin line sometimes! ]
[ 'working' with a SHIELD agent or flirting with one? it's a thin line sometimes! ]
if it makes you feel any better i knew this sort of thing had happened to steve in the past, but he pretty much literally died whenever you brought it up. i think i was mostly spared the public eye since i was never actually, y'know, a superhero or an avenger
[ no glowing headlines or heroic poses for lieutenant barnes in the greater public eye, post-wwii. there were probably some people out there who felt some kind of way about the winter soldier, but he 1000% did not want to know about them. ]
does anybody else at SHIELD get the headlines and the codename treatment?
[ no glowing headlines or heroic poses for lieutenant barnes in the greater public eye, post-wwii. there were probably some people out there who felt some kind of way about the winter soldier, but he 1000% did not want to know about them. ]
does anybody else at SHIELD get the headlines and the codename treatment?
✓ post-shield mission hurt/comfort & waking up in the not-bacta tank
→ late-night diner insomnia
→ movie date night @ her place, watching tv & eating chinese food
→ an excuse for fancy clothes (holiday party? mission infiltration?)
→ bucky's birthday (march 10)
→ daisy admiring bucky boxing; flirty sparring
→ daisy's nightmares (after getting together, in bed)
→ late-night diner insomnia
→ movie date night @ her place, watching tv & eating chinese food
→ an excuse for fancy clothes (holiday party? mission infiltration?)
→ bucky's birthday (march 10)
→ daisy admiring bucky boxing; flirty sparring
→ daisy's nightmares (after getting together, in bed)
Edited 2022-04-18 23:11 (UTC)
[ This hadn't started out as a mission. There was no brief, no gathering of supplies, no prep for combat. Instead, they'd been awakened in the early hours of the morning by explosions rocking the city. The shaking had been felt to the farthest edges of the outer boroughs and every SHIELD agent in the tri-state area had been called in to help, but it became apparent pretty quickly that this wasn't some accident — bridges, subway lines, and transit centers had been targeted, bringing Manhattan to a standstill.
And then the shaking really started. Daisy had felt it in her bones, manmade earthquakes like she'd felt back with Eli Morrow, happening all around the island in what appeared to be a plan to physically destabilize the urban center of the city. It wasn't until the sun was coming up that they'd managed to triangulate the signal being used to set off the devices causing those earthquakes that had already damaged or destroyed dozens of buildings.
Daisy and the rest of the strike team hadn't wasted any time going in but things had gotten complicated fast. The group behind the attacks had heavy firepower and a contingency plan — bombs in the building ready to go off with the next quake centered on their location, one strong enough to potentially take out half the city. (And of course, the leader had taken the time to explain his plan over the building's intercom, taking the typical bad guy route of bragging about his own brilliance and crazy manifesto as they infiltrated the building.) ]
And then the shaking really started. Daisy had felt it in her bones, manmade earthquakes like she'd felt back with Eli Morrow, happening all around the island in what appeared to be a plan to physically destabilize the urban center of the city. It wasn't until the sun was coming up that they'd managed to triangulate the signal being used to set off the devices causing those earthquakes that had already damaged or destroyed dozens of buildings.
Daisy and the rest of the strike team hadn't wasted any time going in but things had gotten complicated fast. The group behind the attacks had heavy firepower and a contingency plan — bombs in the building ready to go off with the next quake centered on their location, one strong enough to potentially take out half the city. (And of course, the leader had taken the time to explain his plan over the building's intercom, taking the typical bad guy route of bragging about his own brilliance and crazy manifesto as they infiltrated the building.) ]
[ They really had meant to get around to that movie night.
And Bucky wasn't well-versed enough in modern communication, and so didn't engage in the back-and-forth games: if he wanted to text her, then he did. He didn't measure the time between messages, didn't try to meter out his enthusiasm for each reply. It was still just a marvel to him that you didn't have to wait weeks on weeks for letters to get to people.
But then he'd been whisked off to Las Vegas for an op with Sam, and the next time he was in town, then Daisy was buried in some mandatory training exercise. They're ships in the night for a while, bridging the gap with texts, and trying to make up their minds on what to tackle first from his pop culture list.
And then Manhattan started trembling underfoot, and they were all called in.
Bucky's walking on a metaphorical live-wire, sleep-deprived but near-buzzing with that energy which comes from adrenaline, danger, a fight. He goes sprinting across the open space of the parking garage they're fighting their way across, and then skids behind a pillar, taking up position beside Agent Johnson, his back pressed to the chipped concrete. In the field, he doesn't wear gloves and doesn't try to hide that vibranium arm — it's useful, can block bullets when he needs it to. He's barely winded as he shoots a glance at her. ]
Hey. Not a great morning, but it's nice to see you.
[ Flirting in the middle of a fight?? Maybe! ]
And Bucky wasn't well-versed enough in modern communication, and so didn't engage in the back-and-forth games: if he wanted to text her, then he did. He didn't measure the time between messages, didn't try to meter out his enthusiasm for each reply. It was still just a marvel to him that you didn't have to wait weeks on weeks for letters to get to people.
But then he'd been whisked off to Las Vegas for an op with Sam, and the next time he was in town, then Daisy was buried in some mandatory training exercise. They're ships in the night for a while, bridging the gap with texts, and trying to make up their minds on what to tackle first from his pop culture list.
And then Manhattan started trembling underfoot, and they were all called in.
Bucky's walking on a metaphorical live-wire, sleep-deprived but near-buzzing with that energy which comes from adrenaline, danger, a fight. He goes sprinting across the open space of the parking garage they're fighting their way across, and then skids behind a pillar, taking up position beside Agent Johnson, his back pressed to the chipped concrete. In the field, he doesn't wear gloves and doesn't try to hide that vibranium arm — it's useful, can block bullets when he needs it to. He's barely winded as he shoots a glance at her. ]
Hey. Not a great morning, but it's nice to see you.
[ Flirting in the middle of a fight?? Maybe! ]
[ Seeing Bucky there is a relief, to put it bluntly. She can tell with her own eyes that he's safe, and she trusts him implicitly to have her back and do what has to be done to protect the city and all the people in it. Plus... she's missed him. Each and every one of his texts have been a gift, little moments of joy between hard, grueling days and long hours spent trying to motivate and train up the new recruits. Mostly, she's let him initiate those messages, trying to gauge how much might be too much for him, though she has sent him a few photos here and there. A shot of the front of a pizza place she'd discovered that's beyond incredible; one of a daisy growing up through broken asphalt in an abandoned lot; another of a tiny fly drowned in her overpriced coffee. They're nothing more than glimpses of her day, pieces of her life that don't warrant more than a passing notice, but they're also a way to stay connected. One that doesn't involve going into battle together.
But this is pretty nice, too. ]
Yeah, you too. You're looking pretty spry for an old guy.
[ He's not even winded and here she is, feeling wrung out and ready to burst out of her own skin. She isn't wearing her Quake suit, there hadn't been time to get it from HQ, so all she's got are the soft gauntlets she sleeps with that have just barely managed to take the edge off the impact of the constant quakes. But despite the aching in her bones and the exhaustion clinging to her, she still grins at Bucky, flirting right back at him. ]
But this is pretty nice, too. ]
Yeah, you too. You're looking pretty spry for an old guy.
[ He's not even winded and here she is, feeling wrung out and ready to burst out of her own skin. She isn't wearing her Quake suit, there hadn't been time to get it from HQ, so all she's got are the soft gauntlets she sleeps with that have just barely managed to take the edge off the impact of the constant quakes. But despite the aching in her bones and the exhaustion clinging to her, she still grins at Bucky, flirting right back at him. ]
If I find some greys in my hair after this op, I'm blaming you. Whipper-snapper, keeping me on my toes—
[ The ground shudders underfoot again, and part of the ceiling cracks, spilling more concrete dust into the air, and he coughs. That doesn't look good. Meanwhile, the terrorists'(?) leader is... still rambling on over the intercom, his voice rising and falling between manic outbursts and a dull drone, and Bucky scowls up at the speakers. ]
Monologues. Why do they always have monologues? At least this guy isn't cackling over a molten lair, I guess.
[ Speaking from experience! The Red Skull had been wild. ]
[ The ground shudders underfoot again, and part of the ceiling cracks, spilling more concrete dust into the air, and he coughs. That doesn't look good. Meanwhile, the terrorists'(?) leader is... still rambling on over the intercom, his voice rising and falling between manic outbursts and a dull drone, and Bucky scowls up at the speakers. ]
Monologues. Why do they always have monologues? At least this guy isn't cackling over a molten lair, I guess.
[ Speaking from experience! The Red Skull had been wild. ]
[ The tremor cuts him off before Daisy can offer her own retort, her tired grin morphing into something more akin to a grimace as she leans heavily against the concrete pillar. Glancing over at Bucky, she gives him a comically confused frown before shaking her head — she'll ask about that one later. ]
Must be in the Bad Guy Handbook. [ She reaches up to tap the comm unit in her ear, addressing another member of the team on-site. ] Ramirez, how we doing with that bomb removal?
[ The man's voice comes through loud and clear despite the levels of concrete between and wherever he and his team are, though his words still leave her frowning again. "We'd be doing a whole lot better if the building would stop shaking every twenty seconds." Her frown deepens and she flinches closer to Bucky as a bullet strikes her side of the pillar. ]
Leave that to me, just move fast. [ Holstering her gun, she looks at the man beside her, trying for an easygoing expression but failing miserably. ] Think you can cover me while I absorb those quakes?
Must be in the Bad Guy Handbook. [ She reaches up to tap the comm unit in her ear, addressing another member of the team on-site. ] Ramirez, how we doing with that bomb removal?
[ The man's voice comes through loud and clear despite the levels of concrete between and wherever he and his team are, though his words still leave her frowning again. "We'd be doing a whole lot better if the building would stop shaking every twenty seconds." Her frown deepens and she flinches closer to Bucky as a bullet strikes her side of the pillar. ]
Leave that to me, just move fast. [ Holstering her gun, she looks at the man beside her, trying for an easygoing expression but failing miserably. ] Think you can cover me while I absorb those quakes?
[ Bucky isn't the greatest at staying on-task even in the middle of a fight. Some of his teammates, it was like flipping a switch, their demeanours shifting into curt, serious, and business-like until the bullets at least stopped flying — but try as he might, he can't help but keep cracking wise. In its own way, it's a good thing. Means he's inching ever further and further away from the silent Winter Soldier, who had only existed for the mission.
But still: As Daisy contacts Ramirez and then asks him a question, Bucky wrangles himself back into sharp attentiveness. Eye on the prize, Barnes. ]
Definitely. But, uh— elaborate a bit on 'absorb those quakes'?
But still: As Daisy contacts Ramirez and then asks him a question, Bucky wrangles himself back into sharp attentiveness. Eye on the prize, Barnes. ]
Definitely. But, uh— elaborate a bit on 'absorb those quakes'?
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