Saving the world always seemed to come at a cost. The team had lost limbs and loved ones countless times, constantly having to rebuild themselves both figuratively and literally. Daisy Johnson had always known that one day that price would be her own life and when the day had come, she'd paid it willingly. There had been a chance she could walk away from the battle, a thread of hope they all clung to, but she'd made peace with the possibility that this would be it.
But then it wasn't. The Chronicom fleet had been destroyed and she'd been brought back from a frozen grave in open space — only to find that the intense quakes needed to break apart the ship had left her broken as well. Nearly every bone in her body was fractured and she'd been exposed to a dangerous level of radiation. Simmons had done the best she could with the upgraded tech on the Zephyr, but once they landed on Earth and everyone began to go about their separate ways, a call was made and arrangements set. She'd been in Wakanda not even a day later.
After two weeks, she's finally back on her feet, but she has weeks yet to go before Mack will let her return to SHIELD. Convalescence, they're all calling it, and she'd call it torture if it weren't for the fact that the country that's spent so long hiding from the rest of the world has better wifi than anywhere Daisy's ever been. She never thought she'd be walking around farmland outside a high-tech city, but here she is. Somehow it seems even stranger than fighting time-traveling alien robots had been.
The world is different now. Even more so than in the days after the Battle of New York, everything feels like it's changed. Irreparably so in some cases. The governments of the world are struggling, forming coalitions and offices to deal with these changes, and all of it seems to be going pretty damn horribly.
One small benefit of the Earth being too caught up in its own problems, at least, is that no one seems to be paying much attention to what SHIELD is doing. They've been able to ramp up their recruitment, finding the best new faces to fill their own newly established offices and teams to deal with the threats that are still out there in the universe.
It's those efforts that give Daisy the idea that nags at her for weeks, especially as she looks more into the situation and becomes increasingly concerned at the possibilities. But when she talks to Mack about it, he supports her, giving her the official Director's stamp of approval.
Which is why she's sitting in a coffee shop in New York City, plenty of people around but not so many that it feels crowded. It's comfortable, the table tucked against the wall between two doors, two cups of steaming coffee waiting to be enjoyed. She just hopes she won't be drinking them both.
The invitation left in his mailbox had been clear. Handwritten in her slightly sloppy script and paperclipped to the top of a folder filled with files, she had an offer to make that would be best given in person. By way of introduction, she'd given him a copy of most of her SHIELD file, with some of the more interesting mission reports included. When she'd learned she was Inhuman, the battle with Hive, Aida and the Framework, traveling to the future and then to the past... And there were scans of newspaper articles as well, all from her time as Quake when she'd been a vigilante and on the run.
It wasn't the normal way of asking someone out for coffee, but since when did normal play any part in their lives?
how come your love's so patient, i kind of feel insane (♫)
Delacroix, Louisiana is like a foreign country compared to New York or LA. There are similarities to River's End but it's mostly the size of the town. Small, where everyone knows everyone else within the community. It's like nothing Daisy's ever experienced before, people smiling at her as she walks the streets, welcoming her as she arrives at the dockside celebration. The case of beer she deposits on one of the tables probably doesn't hurt — it certainly earns her some cheers from the nearest group.
She's immediately pulled into conversation, a string of questions launched at the welcome stranger while a plate of cake is shoved into her hands. Before long, she's laughing at stories being shared of Sam Wilson as a rambunctious youngster, because if she's Sam's friend then she simply has to hear them.
It's nice. It's so very nice, reminding her of the old days with her team before everyone had gone their separate ways. There were still good days with other agents, celebrations when they survived another day that might have been their last, but it just wasn't ever quite the same. It wasn't ever like this.
This, this is what Bucky meant when he'd told Dr. Rainer he wanted 'peace.' Okay, she'd maybe had a point about being alone being the worst hell or whatever, but at the time, he'd forgotten there was something besides 'being part of a fight' and 'being alone.' He went out with Yori once a week (and the loss of that still stings, but Sam had been right, it was a clean sort of burn, healing, instead of the festering ache of a rotting, infected wound), he'd interacted with people - but he hadn't let himself be a real part of people.
Part of that might've just been New York. As much as he loved the City, it wasn't what he'd grown up with. It was anonymous now, and even people in the neighborhoods kept more to themselves than he was used to, having lives outside of their homes, never really around them, unless they were from his own generation, and those were getting fewer as the days wore on.
Community. That's what he's been missing. People who know him on sight, greet him - maybe even know he's a soldier, or Wilson's partner or backup or whatever they wanna call it; he's seen people giving him some speculative looks, but when he catches them, he can also see them make their minds up that he's dealing with shit, and not to bring it up. None of that 'reading your mind' stuff, or bringing up things that he's clearly uncomfortable with, and pushing and prodding... They just let him be, while still including him, in whatever capacity he's able and willing, and that's...
God, it's nice. It's exactly what he wanted and didn't realize he was missing until it happened. Until Sam inadvertently gave it to him. (Not that he's ever gonna bring it up with the guy, because. No. He gave him a fancy Wakandan suit, that totally makes them even.)
It also, after a while, gets a little overwhelming. Not enough to make him want to leave, but he withdraws a little, grabbing another beer and going over to sit on the railing of the dock, feet propped on the lower rail, just watching. Smiling as the kids run around like hellions, arms thrown out as they 'fly' around Sam for a bit.
One person in particular catches his eye, just because he's been literally trained to see anomalies, recognize faces, and he hasn't seen her before. He'd remember seeing her around here before, he's sure. When she gets closer, making her way around while chatting with people, he kicks his foot out slightly to get her attention. "New around here?" he asks casually - not wanting to offend her, but also still the slightest bit wary. Places like this don't often get new faces, and he seems to be the only suspicious person in the entire town. Which is nice, and certainly advantageous when he was the new face, but still. It's a little sus, as the kids say.
Once she sees him, there's no missing Bucky Barnes. As the minutes tick by and they both move through their respective parts of the crowd, she is always hyper aware of his location. So when he calls for her attention, it's an easy thing to give, though she tries not to show just how easy.
"I just came in today," she answers easily, expressing no hesitation at answering or suspicion at the question. With her own beer in hand, she leans against the railing where he's sitting just an arms length away. "To congratulate Sam. It's not everyday someone gets to be Captain America." A beat. "Well, not someone's who's earned it, anyway."
Which is the important distinction, of course. Everyone at SHIELD had been well aware of it, but unless it was another alien invasion, the government rarely listened to them, and even then there was usually a debate.
A dig at Walker. Bucky can't help the slightly vindictive smile that crosses his face. He knows he should be more compassionate, give the guy the benefit of the doubt, blah, blah. He knows for a fact it's not easy trying to live up to Steve Rogers (and fuck what anybody else says, it's not the mantle of 'Captain America' that's hard to uphold, it's Steve) - but also... Walker was a dick first, okay. And Bucky's never even pretended to be as good as Steve, so yeah. He's petty and kinda happy to hear other people didn't like Walker either. (Also, he's never quite forgiven Walker for telling all of America that he considered Steve 'like a brother,' and just... fuck him, anyway.)
It's interesting to hear she thinks Sam's earned it, though. That may just be because of the truly Captain America-esque speech he gave, in front of all those news crews with cameras, but something tells him it's more. She says his name casually enough, but some inner-gut instinct tells him she doesn't really know Sam.
It doesn't quite add up. And yeah, that may just be him unable to trust, or whatever bullshit Rainer (and probably Sam, too, who's opinion he's more likely to listen to than his court-mandated shrink, who let's not forget, liked Walker) would've said. Okay, fine, he has trust issues. Big friggin' surprise, considering his history.
Still, he's surprisingly unbothered by the discrepancy. Sam can take care of himself, and he can take care of his family and loved ones. And if need be, he can ask Bucky for help, and he'll give it.
Plus, he's really trying to not borrow trouble. For all he knows, this girl is just some fan who showed up and is good at fitting in. Or about a hundred other scenarios that he hasn't thought of. It just stings a little, even now, that he'd assumed a young girl was a hostage, and then she ended up kicking his ass and being the mastermind of the whole thing. Like he said: trust issues.
"Not everyday, indeed," he settles on murmuring, taking a swig of beer. "You from around here, then?" Again, casual. He'd ask it of anybody who'd said they 'just came in today.'
Of course, Sam has earned it. She and most of the others at SHIELD would fiercely defend his right to the mantle. Soldiers are heroes, she'll never deny that, but being decorated and applauded for your many achievements isn't the same as fighting the good fight when no one's there to give you a medal for it. There's no comparison to continuing the fight in the face of insurmountable odds, knowing you likely won't make it through this one, and willingly charging in headfirst.
Besides, Steve Rogers chose Sam Wilson. That's enough for a lot of them. Coulson especially has waxed poetic about just what that means.
"Nope," she answers, letting the P pop a little with a small smile. "I'm from New York originally — the city, and I spend a lot of time upstate these days."
It's not the entire truth but it's not a lie either. The Lighthouse is still a frequent haunt for her, though she bounces around the other bases quite a bit as well. Not to mention all the time she spends on the Zephyr... Having four stationary walls to call home just hasn't been in the cards for her for a long time. She never even really settled into the Lighthouse, it was always just a temporary stop. The Playground was really the closest she'd come to settling, and then she'd destroyed it.
"What about you?" she counters, taking a sip of her beer. She knows the answer but she's interested to hear if it's changed with recent events.
His attention is caught when she mentions being from New York - and he can hear it a little, though not as much as he used to expect. That's typical nowadays though, nobody seems to retain much of a regional accent anymore, let alone different boroughs, unless they never leave. He thinks about the very brief time he spent at the Avengers compound upstate. Not for him, but others seemed to like it.
At her turnaround question, he looks out at the water, squinting and drawing a deep breath, thinking about it. "Same--New York, that is. Brooklyn. Came down to help Sam out with some stuff... kinda finding it hard to leave."
Looking back at the group of people, he shrugs a little, self-consciously. "Oh, and I was Gone for 5 years. I'd say it was fun, but at least I don't remember it."
One of the few things he doesn't remember, which is weird, but he thinks, also nice. For as shitty and even more upside-down as it's turned the world now. At least he didn't come back after 5 years only to learn about a bunch of horrible things he did.
Daiay can understand how it would be hard to leave a place like this, especially for someone like Bucky Barnes. The way she's seen people treat him here — he's accepted, and for someone who's been through what he has, that means everything. So while she can't imagine a New York without one of Brooklyn's heroes she's heard about for so long, she wouldn't blame him if he decided to never go back.
"I traveled a lot while everyone was Gone." The words fall out of their own accord, an admission that is again true but not the entire story. She'd traveled, of course, but most of it had been in space. And time. "Tried to do some good for the world."
Turning around so her back is to the revelry still going on, she rests her arms on the rail and looks out over the water with a somber face befitting the subject at hand.
"I was lucky — I didn't lose anyone." She's quiet for just a moment, as if thinking over the words she's just said, and then she frowns and looks down at the bottle she holds between her hands. "I think that's the first time in my life I can say that."
He watches as well as listens as Daisy talks about the Blip. It's interesting, seeing her body language, talking about it. For all that being Gone for 5 years has messed with people when they returned, it's always the ones left behind who are impacted the most.
"War sucks," he finally offers. "Doesn't matter if it's against other humans, or a megalomaniacal alien with a God complex. Nobody ever wins, even if one side is considered the victor."
Giving an explosive sigh, he shakes his head. "Okay. Nope! No more downer stuff." He wipes his hands on his jeans, as if cleaning them of the depressing subject. He'd like to ask about her last statement - just how many times she's lost people, and how, and-- but that's something intensely personal, and not something you share with someone you just meant. He's surprised she shared it with him, but also strangely honored.
"If you could meet any historical figure, present or past, who would you want to have a conversation with?"
An ice breaker? Yes, absolutely. They're low-pressure, fun and silly, and sometimes surprisingly insightful.
War sucks. Damn, are those words ever true. He can't even imagine how solidly that hits for her when so much of her adult life has been spent fighting the same war he did for so long. She doesn't want to talk about that though, not now. He's right, no more depressing talk.
She glances over at him with an amused smile when he says that, though the expression fades slightly as she realizes her answer and how it might affect him. After a moment, she actually cringes slightly.
"Honestly? You would have been one of my top answers before now, but since this is happening..." She gestures between them slightly with her drink. "I'd have to say Steve Rogers. Not because I'm some huge fan, no more so than your average person on the street, but my mentor is. He's the closest thing I've ever had to family and he idolizes the man. I've heard I can't even tell you how many stories about the both of you back during the war..."
Her voice trails off before she offers him a somewhat uncertain smile. "It would have been nice to meet him, but at least I know his best friend is a pretty good guy."
At her answer, he gives her a vaguely horrified look. He's... Okay, he's not actually that surprised she knows who he is. Not once he stops to think about it, anyway. Even before the GRC rescue that was broadcast all over the news, in one form or another he'd been publicized and talked about for decades. He'd thought the Smithsonian thing was a fluke, since it covered all of Steve's life, as well as all the Howling Commandos at least briefly; but he's since learned there's at least two documentaries that also discuss him, at least in regards to Steve's own backstory and upbringing. And it's not like he's been hiding his metal arm, or anything. It's a pretty big indicator of who he is.
Of course, he can't help starting to shake his head when she says she'd have to change it to Steve, now. No. Although... Bucky pauses, making a considering face. "Ordinarily, I'd say that was awful. But now I think everybody who idolizes Steve should get to meet him. And not dressed like an overgrown flag. Everybody--"
Pressing his lips together, he glances away for a second, trying to collect himself. "Everybody thinks Steve's so great," he says softly. "And he is. But he's just a guy, who does his best to do what he thinks is right. And no serum or shield is gonna change that. He's just a scrawny kid from Brooklyn, who never knew how to run away from a fight."
The words echo weirdly in his head, and eventually he finds the memory of saying them before, to Steve even.
"Also," he tries to inject some levity, "he's got awful taste in friends. I hear his best friend is an asshole." He gives her a small smirk, to show he's teasing. (Well. That he's not making fun of her, anyway. He's pretty sure Steve's best friend is an asshole, but no reason to make the girl feel bad.)
When he looks at her with that almost horrified expression on his face, she fears she's made a mistake. Said the wrong thing, ruined the good day he so desperately deserves. But then he speaks and it's not to tell her off, so that's a good sign, right? She listens to him closely, trying to read between the lines and understand whether she's overstepped before speaking once he's finished. And look, there's even a bit of a smile there.
"I think you heard wrong when it comes to that last part," she returns with a smile that's just a bit more confident than she managed before. "His best friend was a hero back in the day, just like Rogers. Risking their lives in the war, fighting to take down HYDRA — the super serum doesn't make you into a good person, that has to be there already."
Okay, so she wasn't quite able to keep the humor going, but it's important for him to hear this. Who knows how many people have actually said this sort of thing to him before; she'd bet good money that it's nowhere near enough. Glancing back over her shoulder at the crowd around them, she adds, "And I'd say, in light of recent events, that you haven't changed one bit, Sergeant Barnes. Not where it counts."
"Pretty sure I didn't," he's quick to retort, and can't help but grin. If you can't talk shit about yourself, you shouldn't be able to talk shit about other people.
He sobers quickly though, as she continues, a look of vulnerability crossing his face, of longing. He wants to be the person she's talking about, fighting side by side with Captain America to take down the evil Hydra.
But this isn't a comic book, and he's not some teen sidekick.
He follows her gaze, out at the mingling, laughing crowd. And it is a crowd now, not a group of individual people that he can pick out and focus on. "The serum doesn't make you a monster, either. That has to be in there, too."
He clenches his left fist, almost missing the mechanical whir that used to be there; replaced now with Wakandan vibranium and far more advanced parts.
His reaction makes it pretty damn clear that no one has tried to help him the way he needs. It breaks her heart and makes her want to scream and rage to think of all the people around him. What have they been doing for the past six months, just letting him suffer on his own while they go on with their happy little lives?
"Maybe that's true for some people," she allows, thinking of Walker and the incident that had streamed to the entire world. "But I will fight anyone who tries to call you a monster. Including you."
She turns to fully face him, leaning an arm on the railing. Her expression is completely serious as she addresses him head-on in a tone that enforces just how serious she really is. "Because what happened to you was monstrous but that doesn't make you a monster."
Glancing over as she shifts, Bucky listens, and gives her a grateful, but not particularly happy smile when she's done. "You know what all the stuff about me, in documentaries and commentaries and fucking propaganda, don't say? I was an assassin before HYDRA got ahold of me. It was government sanctioned, during a world war, and they called it 'sniper' instead, but... it takes a certain kind of person to be able to see a target up-close, ignore the fact that that's a living, breathing human being, put a bullet through their head or heart, and keep eyes-on until you have confirmation they're dead."
He might as well be quoting that last part from his drill master during basic. "I'm not a bad person. But I sure as hell ain't a good one, either." Nobody's as good as Steve, Zemo was right about that - there will never be another Steve Rogers. Sam Wilson isn't a bad second place though.
With every word, he confirms that while she may know who he is the reverse isn't true. Honestly, she can't blame him. Quake the vigilante-turned-superhero SHIELD agent hasn't been overly active in recent years (at least, not on this planet) and before that, he'd been fairly preoccupied. Unless he'd for some reason gone digging into news archives from the couple years after SHIELD's fall, he wouldn't know who she is.
"You know, I think it's only fair I introduce myself, since I already know who you are," tells him, straightening up and moving her drink to her left hand. "My name is Daisy Johnson. I'm a high-ranking agent of SHIELD; I've been with the agency since a few months before Captain Rogers revealed HYDRA's infiltration."
She holds up a hand to ward off any protest or outrage he might have, quickly adding, "And before you possibly assume the worst, I really am here to see Sam. I came to extend congratulations on behalf of the director and make sure Captain America knows that SHIELD is here for him whenever and however he needs."
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— wakanda, pre-iw
— nyc, pre-fatws
— louisiana, post-fatws
no subject
Part of that might've just been New York. As much as he loved the City, it wasn't what he'd grown up with. It was anonymous now, and even people in the neighborhoods kept more to themselves than he was used to, having lives outside of their homes, never really around them, unless they were from his own generation, and those were getting fewer as the days wore on.
Community. That's what he's been missing. People who know him on sight, greet him - maybe even know he's a soldier, or Wilson's partner or backup or whatever they wanna call it; he's seen people giving him some speculative looks, but when he catches them, he can also see them make their minds up that he's dealing with shit, and not to bring it up. None of that 'reading your mind' stuff, or bringing up things that he's clearly uncomfortable with, and pushing and prodding... They just let him be, while still including him, in whatever capacity he's able and willing, and that's...
God, it's nice. It's exactly what he wanted and didn't realize he was missing until it happened. Until Sam inadvertently gave it to him. (Not that he's ever gonna bring it up with the guy, because. No. He gave him a fancy Wakandan suit, that totally makes them even.)
It also, after a while, gets a little overwhelming. Not enough to make him want to leave, but he withdraws a little, grabbing another beer and going over to sit on the railing of the dock, feet propped on the lower rail, just watching. Smiling as the kids run around like hellions, arms thrown out as they 'fly' around Sam for a bit.
One person in particular catches his eye, just because he's been literally trained to see anomalies, recognize faces, and he hasn't seen her before. He'd remember seeing her around here before, he's sure. When she gets closer, making her way around while chatting with people, he kicks his foot out slightly to get her attention. "New around here?" he asks casually - not wanting to offend her, but also still the slightest bit wary. Places like this don't often get new faces, and he seems to be the only suspicious person in the entire town. Which is nice, and certainly advantageous when he was the new face, but still. It's a little sus, as the kids say.
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"I just came in today," she answers easily, expressing no hesitation at answering or suspicion at the question. With her own beer in hand, she leans against the railing where he's sitting just an arms length away. "To congratulate Sam. It's not everyday someone gets to be Captain America." A beat. "Well, not someone's who's earned it, anyway."
Which is the important distinction, of course. Everyone at SHIELD had been well aware of it, but unless it was another alien invasion, the government rarely listened to them, and even then there was usually a debate.
no subject
It's interesting to hear she thinks Sam's earned it, though. That may just be because of the truly Captain America-esque speech he gave, in front of all those news crews with cameras, but something tells him it's more. She says his name casually enough, but some inner-gut instinct tells him she doesn't really know Sam.
It doesn't quite add up. And yeah, that may just be him unable to trust, or whatever bullshit Rainer (and probably Sam, too, who's opinion he's more likely to listen to than his court-mandated shrink, who let's not forget, liked Walker) would've said. Okay, fine, he has trust issues. Big friggin' surprise, considering his history.
Still, he's surprisingly unbothered by the discrepancy. Sam can take care of himself, and he can take care of his family and loved ones. And if need be, he can ask Bucky for help, and he'll give it.
Plus, he's really trying to not borrow trouble. For all he knows, this girl is just some fan who showed up and is good at fitting in. Or about a hundred other scenarios that he hasn't thought of. It just stings a little, even now, that he'd assumed a young girl was a hostage, and then she ended up kicking his ass and being the mastermind of the whole thing. Like he said: trust issues.
"Not everyday, indeed," he settles on murmuring, taking a swig of beer. "You from around here, then?" Again, casual. He'd ask it of anybody who'd said they 'just came in today.'
no subject
Besides, Steve Rogers chose Sam Wilson. That's enough for a lot of them. Coulson especially has waxed poetic about just what that means.
"Nope," she answers, letting the P pop a little with a small smile. "I'm from New York originally — the city, and I spend a lot of time upstate these days."
It's not the entire truth but it's not a lie either. The Lighthouse is still a frequent haunt for her, though she bounces around the other bases quite a bit as well. Not to mention all the time she spends on the Zephyr... Having four stationary walls to call home just hasn't been in the cards for her for a long time. She never even really settled into the Lighthouse, it was always just a temporary stop. The Playground was really the closest she'd come to settling, and then she'd destroyed it.
"What about you?" she counters, taking a sip of her beer. She knows the answer but she's interested to hear if it's changed with recent events.
no subject
At her turnaround question, he looks out at the water, squinting and drawing a deep breath, thinking about it. "Same--New York, that is. Brooklyn. Came down to help Sam out with some stuff... kinda finding it hard to leave."
Looking back at the group of people, he shrugs a little, self-consciously. "Oh, and I was Gone for 5 years. I'd say it was fun, but at least I don't remember it."
One of the few things he doesn't remember, which is weird, but he thinks, also nice. For as shitty and even more upside-down as it's turned the world now. At least he didn't come back after 5 years only to learn about a bunch of horrible things he did.
no subject
"I traveled a lot while everyone was Gone." The words fall out of their own accord, an admission that is again true but not the entire story. She'd traveled, of course, but most of it had been in space. And time. "Tried to do some good for the world."
Turning around so her back is to the revelry still going on, she rests her arms on the rail and looks out over the water with a somber face befitting the subject at hand.
"I was lucky — I didn't lose anyone." She's quiet for just a moment, as if thinking over the words she's just said, and then she frowns and looks down at the bottle she holds between her hands. "I think that's the first time in my life I can say that."
no subject
"War sucks," he finally offers. "Doesn't matter if it's against other humans, or a megalomaniacal alien with a God complex. Nobody ever wins, even if one side is considered the victor."
Giving an explosive sigh, he shakes his head. "Okay. Nope! No more downer stuff." He wipes his hands on his jeans, as if cleaning them of the depressing subject. He'd like to ask about her last statement - just how many times she's lost people, and how, and-- but that's something intensely personal, and not something you share with someone you just meant. He's surprised she shared it with him, but also strangely honored.
"If you could meet any historical figure, present or past, who would you want to have a conversation with?"
An ice breaker? Yes, absolutely. They're low-pressure, fun and silly, and sometimes surprisingly insightful.
no subject
She glances over at him with an amused smile when he says that, though the expression fades slightly as she realizes her answer and how it might affect him. After a moment, she actually cringes slightly.
"Honestly? You would have been one of my top answers before now, but since this is happening..." She gestures between them slightly with her drink. "I'd have to say Steve Rogers. Not because I'm some huge fan, no more so than your average person on the street, but my mentor is. He's the closest thing I've ever had to family and he idolizes the man. I've heard I can't even tell you how many stories about the both of you back during the war..."
Her voice trails off before she offers him a somewhat uncertain smile. "It would have been nice to meet him, but at least I know his best friend is a pretty good guy."
no subject
Of course, he can't help starting to shake his head when she says she'd have to change it to Steve, now. No. Although... Bucky pauses, making a considering face. "Ordinarily, I'd say that was awful. But now I think everybody who idolizes Steve should get to meet him. And not dressed like an overgrown flag. Everybody--"
Pressing his lips together, he glances away for a second, trying to collect himself. "Everybody thinks Steve's so great," he says softly. "And he is. But he's just a guy, who does his best to do what he thinks is right. And no serum or shield is gonna change that. He's just a scrawny kid from Brooklyn, who never knew how to run away from a fight."
The words echo weirdly in his head, and eventually he finds the memory of saying them before, to Steve even.
"Also," he tries to inject some levity, "he's got awful taste in friends. I hear his best friend is an asshole." He gives her a small smirk, to show he's teasing. (Well. That he's not making fun of her, anyway. He's pretty sure Steve's best friend is an asshole, but no reason to make the girl feel bad.)
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"I think you heard wrong when it comes to that last part," she returns with a smile that's just a bit more confident than she managed before. "His best friend was a hero back in the day, just like Rogers. Risking their lives in the war, fighting to take down HYDRA — the super serum doesn't make you into a good person, that has to be there already."
Okay, so she wasn't quite able to keep the humor going, but it's important for him to hear this. Who knows how many people have actually said this sort of thing to him before; she'd bet good money that it's nowhere near enough. Glancing back over her shoulder at the crowd around them, she adds, "And I'd say, in light of recent events, that you haven't changed one bit, Sergeant Barnes. Not where it counts."
no subject
He sobers quickly though, as she continues, a look of vulnerability crossing his face, of longing. He wants to be the person she's talking about, fighting side by side with Captain America to take down the evil Hydra.
But this isn't a comic book, and he's not some teen sidekick.
He follows her gaze, out at the mingling, laughing crowd. And it is a crowd now, not a group of individual people that he can pick out and focus on. "The serum doesn't make you a monster, either. That has to be in there, too."
He clenches his left fist, almost missing the mechanical whir that used to be there; replaced now with Wakandan vibranium and far more advanced parts.
no subject
"Maybe that's true for some people," she allows, thinking of Walker and the incident that had streamed to the entire world. "But I will fight anyone who tries to call you a monster. Including you."
She turns to fully face him, leaning an arm on the railing. Her expression is completely serious as she addresses him head-on in a tone that enforces just how serious she really is. "Because what happened to you was monstrous but that doesn't make you a monster."
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He might as well be quoting that last part from his drill master during basic. "I'm not a bad person. But I sure as hell ain't a good one, either." Nobody's as good as Steve, Zemo was right about that - there will never be another Steve Rogers. Sam Wilson isn't a bad second place though.
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"You know, I think it's only fair I introduce myself, since I already know who you are," tells him, straightening up and moving her drink to her left hand. "My name is Daisy Johnson. I'm a high-ranking agent of SHIELD; I've been with the agency since a few months before Captain Rogers revealed HYDRA's infiltration."
She holds up a hand to ward off any protest or outrage he might have, quickly adding, "And before you possibly assume the worst, I really am here to see Sam. I came to extend congratulations on behalf of the director and make sure Captain America knows that SHIELD is here for him whenever and however he needs."