I'll have you down to your skivvies in no time. There were many boring night times where all we did was poker, so I'm good at this.
[It was better to play himself up as being good and lucky now so when he began a systematic win streak to earn himself at least view of that metal arm in full then he could claim it on experience rather than cheating. He had no doubt that the Soldier had a keen eye, so he was hoping his sleight of hand was as good as it always had been.
And already he could see how good Barnes was as keeping those emotions in check. He knew someday that the Soldier would look back on this conversation and several of his other 'near miss' comments after he was found out and understand why he had made the zingers to begin with. No point bursting that bubble, but he had to hand it to the guy... as skilled as ever.
He was smirking as he shuffled once more and then set the deck in an even favour, passing out the cards even if he knew the cards he was getting.]
We won't need heat, though. I'm hot enough to keep this place warm. [Said with a smirk of his own.]
[ Bucky manages about three seconds of a straight face as he picks up his cards before he starts laughing, eyes shining as he looks up at Rumlow. ]
If you lay it on any thicker, I'm going to think you really are trying to sleep with me, pal.
[ He's really not used to being on the receiving end of that, either, even if it is a joke. Back when he'd been younger, he'd more often than not been the pursuer and when he hadn't been, the women hadn't been quite that aggressive. He can't say he's ever noticed a man hitting on him before, but that doesn't mean it hasn't happened. The 30s and 40s hadn't exactly been a time of open acceptance. ]
[Rumlow snorted a laugh and shuffled through his cards, even if he already knew what they were. Barnes was a handsome guy, and he didn't limit himself by gender and shit, even if it might get him in trouble here and there. As funny as it was, he already mentally had crossed Barnes off the list.
HYDRA valued consent about as much as a rapist and there was a running dark joke about consent coming down to: no means yes and yes means more. Even if someone was resistant, if the skill set matched, they would just make it happen one way or another. Deserters were not tolerated and made examples of in the most brutal of ways. Pierce in particular had established an order where recruiting troubled people young made for less violent needs of brainwashing.
And Barnes was the epitome of consent denial. While he understood how great of sacrifices were required and never felt bad about the ways that HYDRA took people, there had always been something wrong at the end when working with the Winter Soldier. It was like the guy had been hollowed out and the methods of control had not had to be employed often because the brainwashing was so thick, but... the wiping had made him question what he was doing, why he was doing it and if it was the right thing. It had been the first time in a very long time, and that was a reality that had made him distinctly uncomfortable... and more violent in the end.
So maybe his silence was too long, his smirk a little too plastered, and he knew that could be read two different ways for the most part. He finally added a shrug and arranged his cards in his hands.]
Man like you can have pick of the litter, so go find yourself a nice girl - or boy, I don't judge. There are plenty of people with life experience that will tickle you, champ. [And he grinned in a charming way.] I'll be here if you want the asspats though. I have zero shame, but I'm bad for people.
[He tossed two cards down and drew two more, waiting for the Soldier to choose cards. It was one thing to pretend friendship with the Winter Soldier; it was another to ever consider anything else. It was all going to end in flames anyway; it was just a matter of time.]
[ That really catches Bucky off-guard. The idea that someone could be bad for other people. The truth is that it's a thought he's had about himself quite a lot and not just in the romantic sense. Look at what he did to Steve's life! From what Brock's said, it sounds like at least Brock is trying to do some good. Helping soldiers transition back to civilian life isn't a small task, even when they haven't been through what Bucky has. He can't imagine Brock could bring down the sort of shitstorm Bucky had had chasing him--governments and HYDRA splinter cells alike chasing after him and some genuine crimes that he couldn't deny he'd done, even if he hadn't chosen to do them. ]
Nah. Not in the cards for me anymore.
[ He placed down three of his own cards. What a shitty hand. ]
Kinda past that part of my life, but I'll take the compliments.
[ He doesn't bother to correct that he likes women. He's not so sure if he even likes sex anymore. There's something way too open and vulnerable about it that makes Bucky want to run away screaming from the mere concept. It would probably mirror how anyone else with half a lick of sense would run away screaming after they saw that much of Bucky. Sure, he still has a sex drive, but he'll take his hand over someone else's for the time being. ]
[Rumlow was bad for people, and it wasn't just because he had been told that when he was a kid either. He had learned that he was over the years, had seen first hand how associating with him was like dancing with a tornado: people either were pulled into his wake or he tossed them aside to be broken as he moved along for his goals. His team had been excellent, but it had taken quite some time to find a core group like STRIKE alpha.
And over and over since he had arrived here, his associations had made him to reviled member of people from their world. He was practically ostracized by now. Hell, the only reason Barnes was even in the same room with him was because the poor asshole had no idea who he was.]
Oh, you joining the priesthood and swearing off deep meaningful sexual relationships? 'Cause I'd hate to break your bubble and point out all the sexual predation in the religious life.
[He leaned back a little, how own hand marginally good because he needed to start slow, work his way up to the finer defeats. He still he could beat Barnes even with this hand, but it would be a close thing he figured. Or maybe not. Who knew.]
Just so you know, someday you're going to feel better about trusting someone to that level. Might take awhile, but you will. [He smirked.] Maybe you'll feel like you've gotten back from the war when that happens.
[ The words hit way too close to home, because Brock is right. Bucky never really felt like he came home from the war. Hell, he didn't come home. He was left for dead and once he'd gotten away from HYDRA, he'd had to go on the run. He'd thought maybe Steve finally catching up to him in Bucharest could have been the start of the end, but they'd just had to keep fighting and it hasn't stopped. Now he's here, strange place that it is, and he might not be fighting, but he isn't home, either. It's like an improved being-on-the-run. The improvement being that Steve and Peggy are here and that Bucky's started to make some new friends, too, like River and Brock. It's possibly he has odd taste, but that wouldn't be new for him, anyway. ]
Just not that interested.
[ He shrugs. It's not something he can really explain. When he'd been younger, he'd chased skirts like it was a race for his life. Now? It seems unnecessary and messy and, frankly, frightening. ]
Something about the whole world ending that just doesn't do it for me.
[Rumlow had never come home from the war either, but not in the same sense as many others. Despite the hardships, he reveled in the military life, the need to take an order and make something happen with it, to plan and execute operations, to gather like-minded people, to have his hands so dirtied with mud and blood that he could tell which was which. It was the life for him, and he felt alive when he was playing soldier. After the street life, that was all he had ever known, and he'd die before he let anyone take it away from him. He never came home because he never wanted to, but he was skilled enough to help others home and into the safety of HYDRA's arms where he could.
Maybe that was why he never settled down and started a family. Maybe that was why he was doing so poorly here because soldiering had stopped.
But he was nodding his head in complete understanding of Barnes' refusal. There was no judgment from him on it, and he figured the guy needed time to figure things out before ever taking on more than the right hand in a fit of passion. Likely it was all mechanical motion anyway.]
When you've seen and done too much shit, sex is the last thing on your mind. Even meeting people who might want it can be daunting, am I right? [He remained casual as he looked Barnes over.] You sleeping alright? I only ask because sleep deprivation messes with everything.
[He snorted and then shrugged.]
World was always going to end. This time just happened to be because of something beyond our control. Better than humanity doing it to itself honestly.
[ Bucky had never been all that into soldiering. He'd joined the army because they'd been at war. Fighting Nazis had always seemed like a worthy cause. It still does. Being a sniper is something he'd been really good at, but being a soldier had just been a necessity for survival and for keeping Steve safe and winning the war.
As the Winter Soldier, he hadn't been much of a person at all. He couldn't say what he'd liked or thrived in, because he hadn't. He'd simply existed, like a hammer. ]
Didn't used to feel like the world was gonna end.
[ And maybe that's no true. The 1940s had been a strange time. The Nazis controlled a lot of Europe. That had been pretty scary at the time. Then there was his capture at Azzano. It had felt like the end of the line. ]
But no, I don't really sleep well. Haven't in a while.
[ As they talk, he lays out his low bet. The hand's not great, but it's not nothing. ]
In my world, there was this huge alien invasion and it felt like we were at an end, but it took time and we fought them back.
[He shrugged his shoulders, not that he had been deployed in the Battle of New York. His aide had come days after the invasion had been put to an end, some governmental show of solidarity with the citizens who had suffered. It hadn't been the same as being in the thick of it.
No, they had watched and then they had been sent out for missions of their own while it was all going down, quiet and secretive. Too many heads turned to not take advantage of advancing the cause in their own way. Another death wouldn't even touch the news, international or otherwise.]
That's where you need to focus your attention. Once you find a good place to sleep and settle your mind, it feels like everything else has the potential to fall into place.
[He knew about nightmares. He saw men and women ravaged by them. No peace even while sleeping, which made the days of anxiety and depression even harder.
He frowned as he laid his own cards on the table. They both had a double, but as planned, Barnes' cards were marginally higher value than his. He shook his head as if disgusted.]
[ That gets his attention. He wonders if they're from the same world. Seven billion people were on that planet. A few more of them could be here. An alien invasion couldn't have been unique to their world, though. ]
We had something similar, but I was out of town when it happened.
[ He was probably frozen and if he wasn't, then he either wasn't made aware or he can't remember it yet. It's not like HYDRA had prioritized keeping a tool in the know. Either way, he was nowhere near it. He'd had to read about it years later with pictures of Steve in the fray. ]
Take off your shoes. There's something wrong with a half-naked man still wearing shoes.
[ There's a grin with that. It would be pretty mean if he went for the underwear first. Is that cheating? Cheating to win isn't his style, but Bucky's not above cheating for a good laugh. ]
You got any advice about figuring out that whole sleeping thing? 'Cause I've been working at it for a few years.
[It was a good thing that Rumlow was a double-agent otherwise he might have laughed at the claim of being out of town. There had been discussion of thawing the Soldier during that attack, take out HYDRA's enemies and blame it on the chitauri, but in the end, they had opted to remain in the shadows.]
Yeah, alien invasions seem like a theme since I've been here. Guess like me, you experienced one of the not so friendly alien species, yeah?
[He huffed and made a bit of a show of unlacing his boots and handing one over. They were military grade, black and well worn. The kind of boots that STRIKE wore for most of their careers.]
I think it's classy, but what do I know?
[He gathered up the cards again and began to shuffle, putting the cards in his favour for this round. Sometimes luck had everything to do with how the cards fell and other times it was simply how the dealer handled them.]
It's individual, but I heard good things about meditation. Depends if you're not sleeping because of anxiety, nightmares, or everything in between. I used to get a lot of memories myself when I slept, things that came after a blur of the day. Just little things I knew about and reacted to but otherwise missed when stacked against everything else. I'd wake, ponder it, go back to sleep... rinse and repeat.
Like I said, I was out of town, but my friend fought them firsthand. I saw the footage.
[ He taps the table with the fingers of his right hand, not sure how much he should really say on the matter. He's seen the footage of Steve fighting a literal hoard of space invaders. It's unreal what Steve's been up to and there's a part of Bucky that's proud of him, but there's also a part that knows that the more attention he draws to Steve, the more he draws to his own unique history and he doesn't want that here. ]
Me, too, though. The memories, I mean. I, uh, had some serious head trauma a while back. Sometimes things that were missing for a while come back all at once.
[ It's a lie, but it's still more vulnerability than he'd show most people and he knows it. It's close enough to the truth that it's honest in the symptoms if not the cause, anyway. ]
Yeah, footage was everywhere. It was something no one had ever seen before.
[It had been the first time he had looked upon Captain America and realized what they were up against, what it would take if he ever encountered the man who had once been a childhood hero. He needed an A game, and he had done it, had duped so many people because when it came to super heroes, the underdogs were so easily ignored up until the time when sweep change came about. It was too bad it all came down as it did. It wasn't that he should have been stronger; it was just fact that they had been overcome.
And in the end, Rumlow watched Barnes across the table and knew that someday in their not so distant future that the Soldier would look back upon all of their conversations and see all the Easter Eggs he had dropped. They would snap into context of how much he knew, and that look of betrayal might actually be the highlight before he died. God he hoped it was by knife and not gun. Come on, disembowelment! It wasn't like he didn't deserve it after all.
All the same, he nodded his head sympathetically and dealt them another hand. He wondered what it was like to realize all the bad shit HYDRA had made the guy do, the horror of being just a soldier of he US Army and then becoming the world's more elusive assassins who committed the kind of atrocities that would leave most men sweating at night. It had to be a horrendous violation to realize everything. A part of him felt sorry for the Soldier, but he didn't regret meeting and working with HYDRA's Fist. Sacrifices were necessary. Order in pain.]
I get that. I'd say it gets easier, but it doesn't, not really. We do what we can to cope and we learn to compartmentalize the pain away. [He paused in picking up his cards, jaw working as he revealed a detail he had never told anyone else.]
I shot my spotter. In the head. She was an excellent soldier, was pulling out one of our own when she was shot by insurgence. Our orders were to never be taken alive because of the sensitive information that could be tortured out of us. I was the sniper of our unit, marked her down my scope. [His eyes were on the table, his fingers sliding along the outside of the cards.] ...blew her brains out all over the face of the enemy hauling her off. She knew it was coming; she would have done the same for me. I still see her smiling at me through my scope. [He shook his head and chuckled, clearing his throat and then picking up his cards.]
We all go through shit, and we either learn to live with it and accept it as our shit or... we fall down and probably eat a bullet. [He glanced at Barnes.] I get the impression you're too strong for that, but... I'm still here, okay? Even if you just need to sit in silence with someone else, I'll be there.
[ His voice catches. The story stirs something in Bucky, like a pit in his stomach that threatens to claw its way out through his rib cage. He can't imagine killing a teammate like that. He knows he could never have shot Steve or any of the other Howlies. He can't even really think about it. He would have done anything to get them bac safely, but he never could have killed them. Not unless he'd expected them to go through what he had after he'd fallen from the train. That, he might have been able to push himself to spare them from.
He breaks eye contact before he keeps talking. It's too much to maintain it when it feels like he's ripping off a barely-formed scab. ]
I was forced to assassinate someone I'd been friends with. It wasn't--It was political and I had no choice.
[ He'd attacked Steve, too, with all the intent of taking him out, but Steve had fought him off and walked away. Howard and his wife hadn't had a fighting chance. ]
His son found out, so I'm pretty fucked if he wakes up here.
[ Because Tony Stark will try to kill him. It's something Bucky's sure of because it's the last thing he remembers before he woke up. Tony Stark coming at him with clear intent to kill. As much as Bucky hates what he's become and what he's done, he doesn't want to die. He can't say he never has dark or troubled thoughts, but Brock is right. He'll keep surviving it. It's just that he might torture himself with it, too. ]
It wasn't my choice, but I still did it, you know? I was the last thing he saw.
[Rumlow's body language shifted from hunkering down as if hiding a bit to lifting his head to regard the Soldier across from him with a mix of sympathy and understanding. It was amazing what they would do for orders. Sometimes he wondered about it, even if he knew that he was an extreme case. He would take his order and fulfill them no matter the cost. It was odd to find the Winter Soldier opening up to him of all people.
He supposed disclosing an honest story of personal loss was a good way to break that kind of ice. Two old soldiers recalling some of the terrible atrocities that they had committed. The difference was that he had a choice.]
That's... an interesting choice of words. "Forced" to assassinate. Were they orders that you disagreed with? The worst thing is the look on their face, isn't it? That dawning moment as they recognize you.
[It was stupid to ask because he knew the answer, but he had wondered when drunk at one point if the Soldier was aware of the orders, thought of them as that, or if that period was a blur of action and little thought. He figured thoughts were involved. Maybe screaming in one's own head while taking a backseat to the action, no more in control than if hog-tied in a trunk of a car.
He tossed two of his cards away and picked two from the deck, less gung-ho about the strip game, but let's be real... they both needed it more than ever now. They should probably get drunk, but he couldn't risk and the Soldier had too high of a metabolism for it to happen.]
Let's hope he never wakes. Though, it is better than having the only person you actually respect in this stupid place turn their back on you for something you didn't do.
It's complicated. Let's just say I wasn't fully aware of what it was about at the time. The bigger picture wasn't something they felt I needed to know.
[ Brainwashing isn't exactly easy to explain without getting into everything else he doesn't want to. Besides who would even believe this crazy stuff, right? It sounds like nonsense. He wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't lived it.
He goes through the motion of the game, but his mind drifts away from his hand as he exchanges his own cards.
After a moment, though, Brock's words really sink in and he's not sure what to say. I'm sorry seems like a weak consolation. He can't imagine Steve would've heard a word of it after he'd realized he'd been fighting off Bucky on that bridge.
He lets the moment hang, lets his look linger and doesn't bother to hide the empathy there. He'd like to think they don't need to posture while they're showing each other their festering wounds. ]
Like... a hazy dream? I've heard of soldiers entering a fugue state after trauma. [This was a line of questioning that he should honestly drop. It was bound to get them both in trouble sooner than later, but it was just so fucking interesting toeing the line, seeing the differences in HYDRA indoctrination.] Well, you were Black Ops, weren't you? Details are kind of scarce and you're on your own a lot.
[He shuffled his own cards on his hand, casting his eyes aside. He had revealed too much, but there were times he was reminded how much of a puppy he could be with the people that he truly respected. Still an asshole, yeah, but he wanted to do right by them. He wanted to perform well, show himself a good soldier. So yeah, maybe he felt a little betrayed.
Rumlow hated the idea that he had been betrayed on any level. He had already lost everything, same as everyone else. However, he had lost everything before he had even arrived here. What was the point of being alive if he had nothing to fight for?
Instead of tolerating that look for any longer, he slapped down his cards with a triple, calling the play.]
[ Bucky's lips quirk at the mention of him being black ops. He just lets it go, because it's easier than trying to explain it, anyway, and he's not a bad liar, but he's not really trying to hide much right now, anyway, at least not on the surface.
Talking about Howard leaves him feeling a little raw and exposed, especially now that he's been told Howard is in one of those tubes. One day he's going to wake up and he's going to remember that Bucky killed him and he's going to know that Bucky killed his wife, too. Bucky doesn't know what he'll do, but it won't be good. ]
Two jacks.
[ He lowers his cards to the table and man, he hadn't thought the hand was that bad, but it isn't enough. ]
Alright. What first?
[ Cards. A distraction. He really needs it right now. The conversation's getting a little too close to home for him. Probably for both of them. He's pretty sure he's more comfortable than Brock is right now, but it's hard to tell when he knows they're both pretending so hard to be mostly fine.
[Maybe, just maybe, they had revealed a little too much to each other too soon, the rawness of a soldier's life that only another soldier could understand. Sacrifice, loss, pain, and bottling it all up neatly because letting it show was the kind of weakness they had all been trained never to expose to the world. They were their country's defense and offense, so they had better root themselves in that position and hold it together.
It was interesting to think that he and the Soldier might have a few similarities. He could see Barnes in the man now, far more than the bitter cold efficiency of the Winter Soldier fresh into action. At their base, they were two old men in a profession where men were supposed to die young, and they bore the scars of their service quietly.
Put on a mask. Be who the world needed to see. Don't burden others, especially not one's friends or family with the experience.
He plastered a smirk on his face and leaned his elbows on the table, looking the Soldier over as if trying to decide which article would be best to have in his possession first.]
Let's start simple: jacket.
[He made a grabby hand motion, pulling all the previous pain up and away, burying it as he was supposed to. They both needed the distraction, needed the simplicity of being just two guys enjoying a game that would likely expose a completely different set of scars.]
[ Bucky starts to shrug out of his jacket. Focus on the game, he reminds himself.
Even before, he was good at compartmentalizing and putting on a brave face. He'd been the oldest and he'd had Steve to look out for. It had always seemed important to be okay so that he could be there for everyone else and that skill had served him well in the war. It had let him be strong for the men around him and later it had helped him to hide what he'd been through at Azzano from Steve. Sure, Steve had had some ideas, but Bucky would never tell him about the worst of it. He still hasn't, though he's sure Steve knows now.
He pushes it across the table at Brock with a smile that probably still has a few cracks in it, but he thinks they understand each other enough that Brock won't call him on it. ]
We tried to play this once in the snow. Got about a layer down before half the men bailed.
[ Bucky had been fine, but in retrospect it's easy to tell why now. ]
[They probably should have been drinking, what with this kind of commiserating going on. He suspected that neither of them had expected it would happen and now that it had, they both seemed quietly uncomfortably with all that they had revealed. At the same time, it was the kind of trust that he hadn't expected and knew would be insult to injury when the truth came out.
Some men just couldn't handle one another's pain. Some men could. It seemed that leaning on each other might just be a thing before the HYDRA backstory was revealed in them both.
He took the jacket, folded it up neatly and set it next to him. He forced a smile on his face, but he did genuinely chuckle at the story.]
What's a little cold in the middle of the war, right? It's better than being shot. When I was being trained for a stint in the winter of the North, we used to have contests to see who could piss the furthest in the snow and if it would freeze midair.
[He grinned and then gathered up the cards and shuffled them before dealing another hand relatively quickly.]
Socks were the worst, weren't they? Never enough of them, but if your feet sweated, you were just as screwed as if you didn't have any.
[ Bucky laughs as he gathers his cards and it's an honest thing. ]
Weren't you afraid of getting frostbite on your dick? I'll lose a few toes before I'd let that happen.
[ He means it, too. Even if he's not using his dick lately, he wants it to function and he wants to be able to pee and also not feel what has to be the immense pain of losing a part of it. The thought has him wincing. ]
God, my feet were always sweaty, even in the snow, but no socks were worse. Trust me. I had to walk a couple of miles without mine and my feet were bleeding by the end.
[ It's funny how memory works. Sometimes he remember these little details of the war so vividly, but he still can't remember what his youngest sister's doll had looked like. It's not like he values the war more, either. His memories from his time with HYDRA are the same. Some moments are more vivid than they have a right to be. Others are so fuzzy he can't be sure how real they even are. ]
Well yeah, but that was half the challenge honestly. You had to aim, piss and cover up all at the same time.
[Rumlow had never been one to stop from any kind of personal risk though, especially not when he was so young and full of himself. Plus, it was HYDRA, so pushing the recruits to one-up each other was just another test of their loyalty and what they might be willing to do for the organization.]
To be fair, I was far more worried about polar bears. Those bastards are nasty! They will hunt you down, rip you out of your tent and eat you without hesitation. For a city kid, they were like a nightmare.
[He nodded his head, aware that the Second Great War had that problem in the winters. He had experienced it too and sometimes there was no escaping how much winter wars were the worst. Too hot or too cold, not enough food or ammunition, bad weather or horrible weather. It was easy to find something so simple to reflect on and experience of fun but miserable memory.]
I had a medic tell me I had to take my boots off and air out my feet and socks to dry them, but I was like, 'Dude, I will freeze my toes off.' and he just told me if I didn't dry them, I'd freeze my toes off anyway. Me and this chap I served with took turns with our feet tucked against each other so we could air out our boots and socks. The shit we do to serve our countries, right?
[It was almost too easy to just be a soldier around The Soldier. This common ground would have been unheard of in HYDRA when they briefly associated. But soldiers... they knew this shit and had lived it. He couldn't have this with Steve, never had. The guy had been too bury mourning what was lost and looking over top of their heads.]
You'd think Uncle Sam could give you an extra pair of dry socks as a thank you.
[ It amazes Bucky the shit people still go through. Back in the 40s, good warm socks had been a luxury for him even at home. Now, anyone can get a pack of them for a few dollars and soldiers are still freezing their toes off like they're in last century.
From what Bucky can tell, even when they come back missing toes or worse, they're barely cared for, too. He's not bitter, though. He can't be, because he never came home and he wouldn't be welcome there now. ]
You ever think about joining some kinda army again here?
[ Bucky wouldn't. Not unless it seemed absolutely necessary. That he's even considering the guard has an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He doesn't want to be anyone else's tool ever again. ]
He tried, but walking all day and night meant they were both wet and needed a good drying. They were damn stiff and could walk on their own after that.
[With limited space in a gear bag, sometimes it was the little things that had to be forgotten. Food or another pair of socks? Well, he'd need energy and his socks would have to last after all. Sometimes there was no getting back for more, so they just had to look forward and continue the mission.
Rumlow knew the state of veterans. Sometimes he even helped make them whole. Sometimes there was no making that whole again. Recruitment was up and down as far as veterans were concerned; some had to have the right personality and bitterness to make it work.
He snorted as he dealt them another hand of the cards.]
No, not once. I don't believe in either city, so why would I fight for them? I haven't even joined the Guard. Again, why would I? They aren't my country, so they haven't earned my loyalty to the regard I would give it for my country.
[He could tell that the idea of combat or joining up was sour for Barnes. Guy probably needed some down time.]
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[It was better to play himself up as being good and lucky now so when he began a systematic win streak to earn himself at least view of that metal arm in full then he could claim it on experience rather than cheating. He had no doubt that the Soldier had a keen eye, so he was hoping his sleight of hand was as good as it always had been.
And already he could see how good Barnes was as keeping those emotions in check. He knew someday that the Soldier would look back on this conversation and several of his other 'near miss' comments after he was found out and understand why he had made the zingers to begin with. No point bursting that bubble, but he had to hand it to the guy... as skilled as ever.
He was smirking as he shuffled once more and then set the deck in an even favour, passing out the cards even if he knew the cards he was getting.]
We won't need heat, though. I'm hot enough to keep this place warm. [Said with a smirk of his own.]
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If you lay it on any thicker, I'm going to think you really are trying to sleep with me, pal.
[ He's really not used to being on the receiving end of that, either, even if it is a joke. Back when he'd been younger, he'd more often than not been the pursuer and when he hadn't been, the women hadn't been quite that aggressive. He can't say he's ever noticed a man hitting on him before, but that doesn't mean it hasn't happened. The 30s and 40s hadn't exactly been a time of open acceptance. ]
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HYDRA valued consent about as much as a rapist and there was a running dark joke about consent coming down to: no means yes and yes means more. Even if someone was resistant, if the skill set matched, they would just make it happen one way or another. Deserters were not tolerated and made examples of in the most brutal of ways. Pierce in particular had established an order where recruiting troubled people young made for less violent needs of brainwashing.
And Barnes was the epitome of consent denial. While he understood how great of sacrifices were required and never felt bad about the ways that HYDRA took people, there had always been something wrong at the end when working with the Winter Soldier. It was like the guy had been hollowed out and the methods of control had not had to be employed often because the brainwashing was so thick, but... the wiping had made him question what he was doing, why he was doing it and if it was the right thing. It had been the first time in a very long time, and that was a reality that had made him distinctly uncomfortable... and more violent in the end.
So maybe his silence was too long, his smirk a little too plastered, and he knew that could be read two different ways for the most part. He finally added a shrug and arranged his cards in his hands.]
Man like you can have pick of the litter, so go find yourself a nice girl - or boy, I don't judge. There are plenty of people with life experience that will tickle you, champ. [And he grinned in a charming way.] I'll be here if you want the asspats though. I have zero shame, but I'm bad for people.
[He tossed two cards down and drew two more, waiting for the Soldier to choose cards. It was one thing to pretend friendship with the Winter Soldier; it was another to ever consider anything else. It was all going to end in flames anyway; it was just a matter of time.]
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Nah. Not in the cards for me anymore.
[ He placed down three of his own cards. What a shitty hand. ]
Kinda past that part of my life, but I'll take the compliments.
[ He doesn't bother to correct that he likes women. He's not so sure if he even likes sex anymore. There's something way too open and vulnerable about it that makes Bucky want to run away screaming from the mere concept. It would probably mirror how anyone else with half a lick of sense would run away screaming after they saw that much of Bucky. Sure, he still has a sex drive, but he'll take his hand over someone else's for the time being. ]
Nice to know I still got it.
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And over and over since he had arrived here, his associations had made him to reviled member of people from their world. He was practically ostracized by now. Hell, the only reason Barnes was even in the same room with him was because the poor asshole had no idea who he was.]
Oh, you joining the priesthood and swearing off deep meaningful sexual relationships? 'Cause I'd hate to break your bubble and point out all the sexual predation in the religious life.
[He leaned back a little, how own hand marginally good because he needed to start slow, work his way up to the finer defeats. He still he could beat Barnes even with this hand, but it would be a close thing he figured. Or maybe not. Who knew.]
Just so you know, someday you're going to feel better about trusting someone to that level. Might take awhile, but you will. [He smirked.] Maybe you'll feel like you've gotten back from the war when that happens.
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Just not that interested.
[ He shrugs. It's not something he can really explain. When he'd been younger, he'd chased skirts like it was a race for his life. Now? It seems unnecessary and messy and, frankly, frightening. ]
Something about the whole world ending that just doesn't do it for me.
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Maybe that was why he never settled down and started a family. Maybe that was why he was doing so poorly here because soldiering had stopped.
But he was nodding his head in complete understanding of Barnes' refusal. There was no judgment from him on it, and he figured the guy needed time to figure things out before ever taking on more than the right hand in a fit of passion. Likely it was all mechanical motion anyway.]
When you've seen and done too much shit, sex is the last thing on your mind. Even meeting people who might want it can be daunting, am I right? [He remained casual as he looked Barnes over.] You sleeping alright? I only ask because sleep deprivation messes with everything.
[He snorted and then shrugged.]
World was always going to end. This time just happened to be because of something beyond our control. Better than humanity doing it to itself honestly.
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As the Winter Soldier, he hadn't been much of a person at all. He couldn't say what he'd liked or thrived in, because he hadn't. He'd simply existed, like a hammer. ]
Didn't used to feel like the world was gonna end.
[ And maybe that's no true. The 1940s had been a strange time. The Nazis controlled a lot of Europe. That had been pretty scary at the time. Then there was his capture at Azzano. It had felt like the end of the line. ]
But no, I don't really sleep well. Haven't in a while.
[ As they talk, he lays out his low bet. The hand's not great, but it's not nothing. ]
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[He shrugged his shoulders, not that he had been deployed in the Battle of New York. His aide had come days after the invasion had been put to an end, some governmental show of solidarity with the citizens who had suffered. It hadn't been the same as being in the thick of it.
No, they had watched and then they had been sent out for missions of their own while it was all going down, quiet and secretive. Too many heads turned to not take advantage of advancing the cause in their own way. Another death wouldn't even touch the news, international or otherwise.]
That's where you need to focus your attention. Once you find a good place to sleep and settle your mind, it feels like everything else has the potential to fall into place.
[He knew about nightmares. He saw men and women ravaged by them. No peace even while sleeping, which made the days of anxiety and depression even harder.
He frowned as he laid his own cards on the table. They both had a double, but as planned, Barnes' cards were marginally higher value than his. He shook his head as if disgusted.]
What clothing do you want?
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We had something similar, but I was out of town when it happened.
[ He was probably frozen and if he wasn't, then he either wasn't made aware or he can't remember it yet. It's not like HYDRA had prioritized keeping a tool in the know. Either way, he was nowhere near it. He'd had to read about it years later with pictures of Steve in the fray. ]
Take off your shoes. There's something wrong with a half-naked man still wearing shoes.
[ There's a grin with that. It would be pretty mean if he went for the underwear first. Is that cheating? Cheating to win isn't his style, but Bucky's not above cheating for a good laugh. ]
You got any advice about figuring out that whole sleeping thing? 'Cause I've been working at it for a few years.
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Yeah, alien invasions seem like a theme since I've been here. Guess like me, you experienced one of the not so friendly alien species, yeah?
[He huffed and made a bit of a show of unlacing his boots and handing one over. They were military grade, black and well worn. The kind of boots that STRIKE wore for most of their careers.]
I think it's classy, but what do I know?
[He gathered up the cards again and began to shuffle, putting the cards in his favour for this round. Sometimes luck had everything to do with how the cards fell and other times it was simply how the dealer handled them.]
It's individual, but I heard good things about meditation. Depends if you're not sleeping because of anxiety, nightmares, or everything in between. I used to get a lot of memories myself when I slept, things that came after a blur of the day. Just little things I knew about and reacted to but otherwise missed when stacked against everything else. I'd wake, ponder it, go back to sleep... rinse and repeat.
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[ He taps the table with the fingers of his right hand, not sure how much he should really say on the matter. He's seen the footage of Steve fighting a literal hoard of space invaders. It's unreal what Steve's been up to and there's a part of Bucky that's proud of him, but there's also a part that knows that the more attention he draws to Steve, the more he draws to his own unique history and he doesn't want that here. ]
Me, too, though. The memories, I mean. I, uh, had some serious head trauma a while back. Sometimes things that were missing for a while come back all at once.
[ It's a lie, but it's still more vulnerability than he'd show most people and he knows it. It's close enough to the truth that it's honest in the symptoms if not the cause, anyway. ]
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[It had been the first time he had looked upon Captain America and realized what they were up against, what it would take if he ever encountered the man who had once been a childhood hero. He needed an A game, and he had done it, had duped so many people because when it came to super heroes, the underdogs were so easily ignored up until the time when sweep change came about. It was too bad it all came down as it did. It wasn't that he should have been stronger; it was just fact that they had been overcome.
And in the end, Rumlow watched Barnes across the table and knew that someday in their not so distant future that the Soldier would look back upon all of their conversations and see all the Easter Eggs he had dropped. They would snap into context of how much he knew, and that look of betrayal might actually be the highlight before he died. God he hoped it was by knife and not gun. Come on, disembowelment! It wasn't like he didn't deserve it after all.
All the same, he nodded his head sympathetically and dealt them another hand. He wondered what it was like to realize all the bad shit HYDRA had made the guy do, the horror of being just a soldier of he US Army and then becoming the world's more elusive assassins who committed the kind of atrocities that would leave most men sweating at night. It had to be a horrendous violation to realize everything. A part of him felt sorry for the Soldier, but he didn't regret meeting and working with HYDRA's Fist. Sacrifices were necessary. Order in pain.]
I get that. I'd say it gets easier, but it doesn't, not really. We do what we can to cope and we learn to compartmentalize the pain away. [He paused in picking up his cards, jaw working as he revealed a detail he had never told anyone else.]
I shot my spotter. In the head. She was an excellent soldier, was pulling out one of our own when she was shot by insurgence. Our orders were to never be taken alive because of the sensitive information that could be tortured out of us. I was the sniper of our unit, marked her down my scope. [His eyes were on the table, his fingers sliding along the outside of the cards.] ...blew her brains out all over the face of the enemy hauling her off. She knew it was coming; she would have done the same for me. I still see her smiling at me through my scope. [He shook his head and chuckled, clearing his throat and then picking up his cards.]
We all go through shit, and we either learn to live with it and accept it as our shit or... we fall down and probably eat a bullet. [He glanced at Barnes.] I get the impression you're too strong for that, but... I'm still here, okay? Even if you just need to sit in silence with someone else, I'll be there.
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[ His voice catches. The story stirs something in Bucky, like a pit in his stomach that threatens to claw its way out through his rib cage. He can't imagine killing a teammate like that. He knows he could never have shot Steve or any of the other Howlies. He can't even really think about it. He would have done anything to get them bac safely, but he never could have killed them. Not unless he'd expected them to go through what he had after he'd fallen from the train. That, he might have been able to push himself to spare them from.
He breaks eye contact before he keeps talking. It's too much to maintain it when it feels like he's ripping off a barely-formed scab. ]
I was forced to assassinate someone I'd been friends with. It wasn't--It was political and I had no choice.
[ He'd attacked Steve, too, with all the intent of taking him out, but Steve had fought him off and walked away. Howard and his wife hadn't had a fighting chance. ]
His son found out, so I'm pretty fucked if he wakes up here.
[ Because Tony Stark will try to kill him. It's something Bucky's sure of because it's the last thing he remembers before he woke up. Tony Stark coming at him with clear intent to kill. As much as Bucky hates what he's become and what he's done, he doesn't want to die. He can't say he never has dark or troubled thoughts, but Brock is right. He'll keep surviving it. It's just that he might torture himself with it, too. ]
It wasn't my choice, but I still did it, you know? I was the last thing he saw.
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He supposed disclosing an honest story of personal loss was a good way to break that kind of ice. Two old soldiers recalling some of the terrible atrocities that they had committed. The difference was that he had a choice.]
That's... an interesting choice of words. "Forced" to assassinate. Were they orders that you disagreed with? The worst thing is the look on their face, isn't it? That dawning moment as they recognize you.
[It was stupid to ask because he knew the answer, but he had wondered when drunk at one point if the Soldier was aware of the orders, thought of them as that, or if that period was a blur of action and little thought. He figured thoughts were involved. Maybe screaming in one's own head while taking a backseat to the action, no more in control than if hog-tied in a trunk of a car.
He tossed two of his cards away and picked two from the deck, less gung-ho about the strip game, but let's be real... they both needed it more than ever now. They should probably get drunk, but he couldn't risk and the Soldier had too high of a metabolism for it to happen.]
Let's hope he never wakes. Though, it is better than having the only person you actually respect in this stupid place turn their back on you for something you didn't do.
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[ Brainwashing isn't exactly easy to explain without getting into everything else he doesn't want to. Besides who would even believe this crazy stuff, right? It sounds like nonsense. He wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't lived it.
He goes through the motion of the game, but his mind drifts away from his hand as he exchanges his own cards.
After a moment, though, Brock's words really sink in and he's not sure what to say. I'm sorry seems like a weak consolation. He can't imagine Steve would've heard a word of it after he'd realized he'd been fighting off Bucky on that bridge.
He lets the moment hang, lets his look linger and doesn't bother to hide the empathy there. He'd like to think they don't need to posture while they're showing each other their festering wounds. ]
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[He shuffled his own cards on his hand, casting his eyes aside. He had revealed too much, but there were times he was reminded how much of a puppy he could be with the people that he truly respected. Still an asshole, yeah, but he wanted to do right by them. He wanted to perform well, show himself a good soldier. So yeah, maybe he felt a little betrayed.
Rumlow hated the idea that he had been betrayed on any level. He had already lost everything, same as everyone else. However, he had lost everything before he had even arrived here. What was the point of being alive if he had nothing to fight for?
Instead of tolerating that look for any longer, he slapped down his cards with a triple, calling the play.]
Triple. What do you have, Ace?
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Talking about Howard leaves him feeling a little raw and exposed, especially now that he's been told Howard is in one of those tubes. One day he's going to wake up and he's going to remember that Bucky killed him and he's going to know that Bucky killed his wife, too. Bucky doesn't know what he'll do, but it won't be good. ]
Two jacks.
[ He lowers his cards to the table and man, he hadn't thought the hand was that bad, but it isn't enough. ]
Alright. What first?
[ Cards. A distraction. He really needs it right now. The conversation's getting a little too close to home for him. Probably for both of them. He's pretty sure he's more comfortable than Brock is right now, but it's hard to tell when he knows they're both pretending so hard to be mostly fine.
Strong.
Like that means anything anymore. ]
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It was interesting to think that he and the Soldier might have a few similarities. He could see Barnes in the man now, far more than the bitter cold efficiency of the Winter Soldier fresh into action. At their base, they were two old men in a profession where men were supposed to die young, and they bore the scars of their service quietly.
Put on a mask. Be who the world needed to see. Don't burden others, especially not one's friends or family with the experience.
He plastered a smirk on his face and leaned his elbows on the table, looking the Soldier over as if trying to decide which article would be best to have in his possession first.]
Let's start simple: jacket.
[He made a grabby hand motion, pulling all the previous pain up and away, burying it as he was supposed to. They both needed the distraction, needed the simplicity of being just two guys enjoying a game that would likely expose a completely different set of scars.]
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Even before, he was good at compartmentalizing and putting on a brave face. He'd been the oldest and he'd had Steve to look out for. It had always seemed important to be okay so that he could be there for everyone else and that skill had served him well in the war. It had let him be strong for the men around him and later it had helped him to hide what he'd been through at Azzano from Steve. Sure, Steve had had some ideas, but Bucky would never tell him about the worst of it. He still hasn't, though he's sure Steve knows now.
He pushes it across the table at Brock with a smile that probably still has a few cracks in it, but he thinks they understand each other enough that Brock won't call him on it. ]
We tried to play this once in the snow. Got about a layer down before half the men bailed.
[ Bucky had been fine, but in retrospect it's easy to tell why now. ]
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Some men just couldn't handle one another's pain. Some men could. It seemed that leaning on each other might just be a thing before the HYDRA backstory was revealed in them both.
He took the jacket, folded it up neatly and set it next to him. He forced a smile on his face, but he did genuinely chuckle at the story.]
What's a little cold in the middle of the war, right? It's better than being shot. When I was being trained for a stint in the winter of the North, we used to have contests to see who could piss the furthest in the snow and if it would freeze midair.
[He grinned and then gathered up the cards and shuffled them before dealing another hand relatively quickly.]
Socks were the worst, weren't they? Never enough of them, but if your feet sweated, you were just as screwed as if you didn't have any.
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[ Bucky laughs as he gathers his cards and it's an honest thing. ]
Weren't you afraid of getting frostbite on your dick? I'll lose a few toes before I'd let that happen.
[ He means it, too. Even if he's not using his dick lately, he wants it to function and he wants to be able to pee and also not feel what has to be the immense pain of losing a part of it. The thought has him wincing. ]
God, my feet were always sweaty, even in the snow, but no socks were worse. Trust me. I had to walk a couple of miles without mine and my feet were bleeding by the end.
[ It's funny how memory works. Sometimes he remember these little details of the war so vividly, but he still can't remember what his youngest sister's doll had looked like. It's not like he values the war more, either. His memories from his time with HYDRA are the same. Some moments are more vivid than they have a right to be. Others are so fuzzy he can't be sure how real they even are. ]
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[Rumlow had never been one to stop from any kind of personal risk though, especially not when he was so young and full of himself. Plus, it was HYDRA, so pushing the recruits to one-up each other was just another test of their loyalty and what they might be willing to do for the organization.]
To be fair, I was far more worried about polar bears. Those bastards are nasty! They will hunt you down, rip you out of your tent and eat you without hesitation. For a city kid, they were like a nightmare.
[He nodded his head, aware that the Second Great War had that problem in the winters. He had experienced it too and sometimes there was no escaping how much winter wars were the worst. Too hot or too cold, not enough food or ammunition, bad weather or horrible weather. It was easy to find something so simple to reflect on and experience of fun but miserable memory.]
I had a medic tell me I had to take my boots off and air out my feet and socks to dry them, but I was like, 'Dude, I will freeze my toes off.' and he just told me if I didn't dry them, I'd freeze my toes off anyway. Me and this chap I served with took turns with our feet tucked against each other so we could air out our boots and socks. The shit we do to serve our countries, right?
[It was almost too easy to just be a soldier around The Soldier. This common ground would have been unheard of in HYDRA when they briefly associated. But soldiers... they knew this shit and had lived it. He couldn't have this with Steve, never had. The guy had been too bury mourning what was lost and looking over top of their heads.]
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[ It amazes Bucky the shit people still go through. Back in the 40s, good warm socks had been a luxury for him even at home. Now, anyone can get a pack of them for a few dollars and soldiers are still freezing their toes off like they're in last century.
From what Bucky can tell, even when they come back missing toes or worse, they're barely cared for, too. He's not bitter, though. He can't be, because he never came home and he wouldn't be welcome there now. ]
You ever think about joining some kinda army again here?
[ Bucky wouldn't. Not unless it seemed absolutely necessary. That he's even considering the guard has an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He doesn't want to be anyone else's tool ever again. ]
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[With limited space in a gear bag, sometimes it was the little things that had to be forgotten. Food or another pair of socks? Well, he'd need energy and his socks would have to last after all. Sometimes there was no getting back for more, so they just had to look forward and continue the mission.
Rumlow knew the state of veterans. Sometimes he even helped make them whole. Sometimes there was no making that whole again. Recruitment was up and down as far as veterans were concerned; some had to have the right personality and bitterness to make it work.
He snorted as he dealt them another hand of the cards.]
No, not once. I don't believe in either city, so why would I fight for them? I haven't even joined the Guard. Again, why would I? They aren't my country, so they haven't earned my loyalty to the regard I would give it for my country.
[He could tell that the idea of combat or joining up was sour for Barnes. Guy probably needed some down time.]
Someone pressuring you to join?