[ He wraps his fingers around his warm cup. Even though the metal fingers don't get cold per se, they can still feel the warmth and it's a pleasant comfort. ]
I hope I didn't overstep anything when we were in that simulation.
[ Because that's what he's nervous about, if he's honest. After everything that's been done to him, the last thing he ever wants to do is hurt someone else like that. ]
[ He relaxes after that, smiling just a little at her over his drink. It's one less thing this could be about, which he suspects means that she was here before and that she knew him. That's how this conversation tends to go, anyway. ]
[She smiles at his reassurance, a warmth to her face, and it clearly eases her a little. She'd worried a little, just knowing what she does, it would be the last thing she wanted.]
I'm glad. I thought it was, too.
[Maybe not quite a we should do it again sometime, but there's a touch of that sort of invitation to her voice. She's really trying to save the overtures until after the hard part of all this. It doesn't seem fair, otherwise, but he's charming and she can't entirely help it.]
I don't really know where to start, honestly. But- I knew you, once. Before.
[Maybe back home would have been more clear, but Ava hasn't had a home in years.]
[ He nods and his face doesn't have an ounce of surprise. Between Avengers knowing him and people who knew him when he was here before, it's not a new story. ]
Well I'm sorry to say I don't remember you. I don't... remember a lot of things.
[There's no surprise or disappointment to her face when he says that he doesn't remember her. A faint sort of apology, not like this is her fault, but like she knows that this is stepping into uncomfortable territory, a potential minefield.
There's tension in her shoulders, because this isn't easy for her, either. Cuts too close to things that she's spent years trying her best to escape from.]
[ He nods and waits for her to continue. Whatever this is, she doesn't seem hostile and if he can't remember her, he's not sure if this should be more tense, like his first meeting with Natasha. ]
[She shakes her head at that- almost insistent as she looks at him. Not really sure how to put what she wants to say (needs to say) into words.]
No. I--
[She takes a breath, looks up at him a little wryly from under her eyelashes.]
I don't know a good way to explain, so I'll just- start at the beginning, I guess.
[Her lips thin, and she quiets for a moment, tries to get her thoughts in order. She makes it about her because it feels less aggressive than coming out the gate with I watched them wipe you. It's just- hard. She's never really talked about any of this, so her voice is soft.]
My parents were scientists with some sort of- Russian military splinter program, I guess? I don't remember. But I found my mother's files-- I was the first subject for some new program. I was trained for a few years and then they handed me off to SHIELD.
[She pauses there, shakes her head.] I mean-- what I thought was SHIELD.
[ The atmosphere shifts immediately as Bucky lets the facts add up together. ]
You worked for HYDRA.
[ The tension is back in his shoulders tenfold and he looks like he's ready to bolt at the wrong word as his chair shifts back a little and his fingers grip his coffee a little harder. ]
[She has to take a breath, lips pressing into a thin line. Her kneejerk feeling is to insist no, but she's not sure how true that is, if she's entirely honest. They'd been training her, clearly intended to use her for something.]
I think I was supposed to, if I hadn't run. They kept me locked in a bunker in DC for five years. They-- took away who I was.
[At those words, her voice quiets, and she looks down at her hands, pressing them flat against the table. They're pretty words for a very painful truth. And for her there are complicated pieces twisted into the mess of it all.]
They'd tell me that I'd been orphaned by the Russian mafia. That they'd saved me. I couldn't remember anything different. But the more it happened the more everything started to feel- wrong.
[ Everything about him is defensive, even if a lot of the details hit close to home. It's too close. It's too much like a lie he'd tell someone like him to earn their trust and he doesn't want to think that of her, but it's too hard not to let the thought occur to him, because he can't think about what's ethical where HYDRA's concerned. It's exactly what HYDRA would do, even if he's not so sure what she'd have to gain. ]
Because... they made me watch, once. When they did it to someone else.
[Her head dips, looking down at her hands, unsure what else to say, and fighting the urge that wants to either reach out and touch or run. It's contentious and it hurts and she shifts, discomfort clear when she finally looks up at him. Blue eyes unsure, almost apologetic, but the intention, the weight of what she means is there too.
HYDRA hadn't tortured her in the same way that Ivan had. Handcuffs and pain until she screamed, until the others could hear her, and it all faded into this distant numbness. Just something to be expected. Another part of training. But they did things that were worse. Things that she didn't think she could ever forget.]
[ His face is a mask now. Or he tries to make it one, but little things slip through--a mix of fear and hope. How could they not when he's not sure how to feel?
She's being honest with him in a way he's not sure he would be in her shoes. Hell, he knows he's not, because he's got a huge secret he's been holding over Tony Stark's head for months and he's got no plans to spill a single bean on any of it. ]
If I didn't tell you, that takes away your choice.
[Her answer is quiet, soft but earnest. She's not much of a spy, not really. Ava's never been like Natasha, however much that was what they tried to make her into. She's more the stubborn soldier than anything. Too direct, cares too much.
She only keeps the things that she has to. The things that offer nothing but hurt. This felt like a truth she owed him. At the question, she pauses, considers the question.]
I want to get to know you.
[It's simple but true. If they were someplace else, she might have said something about seeing if they could be friends, but this place makes things not quite so simple.]
[ It's a respectful answer. He wants it to be an honest one. Not a lot of people have gone out of their way to make sure Bucky has choices, even the people who've treated him alright haven't thought about him in quite those terms. ]
Okay.
[ He isn't saying he's going to let any of his walls down, but if she wants to get to know him, there's some surface stuff he doesn't hold too close to his chest. ]
[She considers the question, then she smiles softly, looks over at him with something a little like interest. Her hands touching her drink, taking a sip, now that she's not quite so weighed down with that tether, with the truth.]
Could make a game of it. Take turns asking questions, but you have to offer something equivalent.
[Not a game she'd created; that had been Sana. Back when Ava had been quiet and guarded and unwilling to give anything away. It makes it safe, keeps from pushing too deep.]
I like drawing, I think I like dancing and I like sparring as long as I don't hurt anyone. What do you enjoy doing, here or- just in general?
[An example, something that's in theory an easy answer, even if her own isn't. The game had also been a way to sort of put rules on basic conversation, because just out of the safehouse Ava hadn't really been good at it. Sana was smarter than people ever gave her credit for.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
I hope I didn't overstep anything when we were in that simulation.
[ Because that's what he's nervous about, if he's honest. After everything that's been done to him, the last thing he ever wants to do is hurt someone else like that. ]
no subject
Oh, no. No. Not at all. It was-- not what I expected, I'll admit. But I certainly enjoyed it.
[She shrugs her shoulders a little, taps fingers against her cup.] Hopefully I wasn't the only one.
no subject
[ He relaxes after that, smiling just a little at her over his drink. It's one less thing this could be about, which he suspects means that she was here before and that she knew him. That's how this conversation tends to go, anyway. ]
It was nice.
no subject
I'm glad. I thought it was, too.
[Maybe not quite a we should do it again sometime, but there's a touch of that sort of invitation to her voice. She's really trying to save the overtures until after the hard part of all this. It doesn't seem fair, otherwise, but he's charming and she can't entirely help it.]
I don't really know where to start, honestly. But- I knew you, once. Before.
[Maybe back home would have been more clear, but Ava hasn't had a home in years.]
no subject
Well I'm sorry to say I don't remember you. I don't... remember a lot of things.
[ There's an apologetic shrug with that. ]
no subject
[There's no surprise or disappointment to her face when he says that he doesn't remember her. A faint sort of apology, not like this is her fault, but like she knows that this is stepping into uncomfortable territory, a potential minefield.
There's tension in her shoulders, because this isn't easy for her, either. Cuts too close to things that she's spent years trying her best to escape from.]
That's why I wanted to talk to you.
no subject
[ He nods and waits for her to continue. Whatever this is, she doesn't seem hostile and if he can't remember her, he's not sure if this should be more tense, like his first meeting with Natasha. ]
I didn't piss you off, did I?
no subject
No. I--
[She takes a breath, looks up at him a little wryly from under her eyelashes.]
I don't know a good way to explain, so I'll just- start at the beginning, I guess.
[Her lips thin, and she quiets for a moment, tries to get her thoughts in order. She makes it about her because it feels less aggressive than coming out the gate with I watched them wipe you. It's just- hard. She's never really talked about any of this, so her voice is soft.]
My parents were scientists with some sort of- Russian military splinter program, I guess? I don't remember. But I found my mother's files-- I was the first subject for some new program. I was trained for a few years and then they handed me off to SHIELD.
[She pauses there, shakes her head.] I mean-- what I thought was SHIELD.
no subject
You worked for HYDRA.
[ The tension is back in his shoulders tenfold and he looks like he's ready to bolt at the wrong word as his chair shifts back a little and his fingers grip his coffee a little harder. ]
no subject
I think I was supposed to, if I hadn't run. They kept me locked in a bunker in DC for five years. They-- took away who I was.
[At those words, her voice quiets, and she looks down at her hands, pressing them flat against the table. They're pretty words for a very painful truth. And for her there are complicated pieces twisted into the mess of it all.]
They'd tell me that I'd been orphaned by the Russian mafia. That they'd saved me. I couldn't remember anything different. But the more it happened the more everything started to feel- wrong.
no subject
[ Everything about him is defensive, even if a lot of the details hit close to home. It's too close. It's too much like a lie he'd tell someone like him to earn their trust and he doesn't want to think that of her, but it's too hard not to let the thought occur to him, because he can't think about what's ethical where HYDRA's concerned. It's exactly what HYDRA would do, even if he's not so sure what she'd have to gain. ]
no subject
[Her head dips, looking down at her hands, unsure what else to say, and fighting the urge that wants to either reach out and touch or run. It's contentious and it hurts and she shifts, discomfort clear when she finally looks up at him. Blue eyes unsure, almost apologetic, but the intention, the weight of what she means is there too.
HYDRA hadn't tortured her in the same way that Ivan had. Handcuffs and pain until she screamed, until the others could hear her, and it all faded into this distant numbness. Just something to be expected. Another part of training. But they did things that were worse. Things that she didn't think she could ever forget.]
I couldn't not tell you.
no subject
[ His face is a mask now. Or he tries to make it one, but little things slip through--a mix of fear and hope. How could they not when he's not sure how to feel?
She's being honest with him in a way he's not sure he would be in her shoes. Hell, he knows he's not, because he's got a huge secret he's been holding over Tony Stark's head for months and he's got no plans to spill a single bean on any of it. ]
What do you want now?
no subject
[Her answer is quiet, soft but earnest. She's not much of a spy, not really. Ava's never been like Natasha, however much that was what they tried to make her into. She's more the stubborn soldier than anything. Too direct, cares too much.
She only keeps the things that she has to. The things that offer nothing but hurt. This felt like a truth she owed him. At the question, she pauses, considers the question.]
I want to get to know you.
[It's simple but true. If they were someplace else, she might have said something about seeing if they could be friends, but this place makes things not quite so simple.]
no subject
Okay.
[ He isn't saying he's going to let any of his walls down, but if she wants to get to know him, there's some surface stuff he doesn't hold too close to his chest. ]
What do you want to know?
no subject
Could make a game of it. Take turns asking questions, but you have to offer something equivalent.
[Not a game she'd created; that had been Sana. Back when Ava had been quiet and guarded and unwilling to give anything away. It makes it safe, keeps from pushing too deep.]
I like drawing, I think I like dancing and I like sparring as long as I don't hurt anyone. What do you enjoy doing, here or- just in general?
[An example, something that's in theory an easy answer, even if her own isn't. The game had also been a way to sort of put rules on basic conversation, because just out of the safehouse Ava hadn't really been good at it. Sana was smarter than people ever gave her credit for.]