[ Miscalculation. Maybe they aren't so similar after all. For some reason, that idea feels like a relief to Bucky. The idea of a guy who can read him that well makes his skin itch. ]
[ Is this what internet dating feels like? He'd only recently discovered internet dating.
In any case, it doesn't take him quite an hour to get there, and he isn't wearing anything to make him look more distinctive. He did cut his hair when he got back to Olympia, so it's shorter than he sometimes wears it. ]
[ Bucky heads down about an hour after that text. His metal arm is covered, save for the hand. As far as he knows, there's still at least one HYDRA agent around looking for him and he's not taking chances flashing the whole arm around until he sees proof to the contrary.
Once he spots the person he's reasonably sure is the other Bucky (and that's still weird) he walks up to him like this is just two friends grabbing a coffee. ]
If I touch you, will it rip a hole in the very fabric of existence? Or is that not something you have to worry about after the world ends?
[ He raises an eyebrow, but only barely looks up. ]
I got no clue why you think this is my normal paygrade. [ It sort of is, but he doesn't like admitting that, even to himself. ] I'm not alternate universe Tony Stark.
[ The first name his mind comes up with. Reed Richards would have probably been a better namecheck. ]
[ There's an almost wince at the name, but otherwise Bucky doesn't comment. The idea of there being multiple Tony Starks is little more than he thinks he can handle right now. Maybe it's not as weird as this is, but it's still somehow worse. ]
So we should find out, right? For science.
[ And he's just going to go ahead and cover all of his discomfort with another joke and a raised eyebrow. This is going well so far. ]
[ Bucky is totally oblivious to the history between his other self and the other Tony Stark. But he reaches his right hand out into the space between, offering a handshake. His left arm is visible, too, but it doesn't look fake. ]
[ Bucky wants to make a joke about reading too many pulp novels, but he's starting to feel like he shouldn't press his luck. He really does want to figure out this whole twinsies thing, so he takes the hand in a firm but friendly handshake. ]
Well look at that. We're both fine. Bucky Barnes. Nice to meet you. I think.
[ There's a din of emotions around them that Bucky's still learning how to block out. He hasn't had the powers long and they're more overwhelming than they are insightful most of the time. Even now when he makes contact, the other man's emotions aren't something he can interpret, even though he knows he can feel something. ]
Me, too.
[ There's something warmer in his eyes now, because he isn't joking. It's a sentiment he understands a little too well. Before he'd woken up here, his only positive review had been from Steve. Even now, plenty of people seem to like him fine, but he doesn't let too many of them see who he really is. Other than Steve and Peggy, who'd known him before everything, Brock had been the only person he'd really been all that honest with and even then he'd had to pepper everything with lies to sell the truths. ]
[ He crams his hands into his pockets and tries not to feel like admitting that is a big deal, even though it sort of is. He has to imagine Steve's probably figured it out, but he hasn't asked Bucky what's missing. No one else really asks, either. ]
[ Huh. He's heard a fair bit about how he supposed to be from Brooklyn, where he did live for a while, but only in the twenty-first century. ]
Uh-huh. The most underpaid private in the whole operation, by my reckoning. [ Not that he's complained in about seventy years. He probably did enough complaining back in the day to make up for it. It's— something, remembering the kid he was then. ] What happens when most of your work is off the books, I guess.
[ Bucky nods. It's interesting information. It seems like they've got pretty different stories where it counts. Guy's not even from Brooklyn and the differences don't stop there. ]
Mine wasn't. I was just a regular Sergeant until after I was taken prisoner.
HYDRA had me for a little while before Steve busted in to save the day. After that, I was fighting with him and the Howlies.
[ They're getting into the territory of things he Doesn't Talk About. Even during the rest of the war, he'd clamped down on it and buried it and never really told Steve much about what had happened, but it seems necessary to compare notes now, so he pushes on. ]
They did something to me, though. Trying to replicate Steve's serum or something. It's probably how I survived everything.
[ His eyes narrow. HYDRA as he understood it didn't exist during the war, though there were tendrils that went way back. And, well, it'd probably be easier to compare notes on the Howling Commandos— is there a Dum Dum in this Bucky's world?— but the stuff about the serum distractions. ]
They've tried that a couple times. During the Cold War. [ He remembers the psycho fifties Cap he fought off a few times. He'd tried to duplicate the formula on himself. ] There were the prison experiments— [ the disgust in his tone is evident ] and then SHIELD ran a couple trials, but the Russians did too. None of it ever turned out good.
[ And he might as well admit this: ]
And none of it ever applied to me. [ There's no good reason for him to have survived everything. ]
I mean— [ He reaches his arm backward and above, like he's got an awkward itch, or a crick in his neck. ] Not everyone knew that. The serum was just a rumor, back then, even to our allies. And I was with the Invaders, Captain America's partner, so… [ The rest of the Invaders definitely had powers, obvious, showy powers. ] They made some assumptions.
[ He doesn't clarify who the "they" is he's talking about, but it's not a deliberate obfuscation, just the normal confusion of turning memories into words. ]
Okay. 'Bout what? 'Cause so far it sounds like all we got in common is a name and Steve.
[ And Bucky isn't sure why, because a few differences had set him at ease, like the other many couldn't get into his head, but now he really is starting to feel like he's spilling his guts to a stranger here and it's making his skin itch. ]
Maybe this.
[ He tries to poke at the other man's left arm to test it. ]
[ Poking his arm doesn't do much. It's an arm— it feels like a real arm, even. ]
The Russians recovered my body, after the explosion where I lost my arm.
[ This is another beginning, maybe. And he takes his arm back and holds it up, twisting some unknown internal mechanism that makes the fake skin fade away and the metal shown through. ]
They thought they might be able to get the serum from my blood.
[ He touches the arm again. It's definitely more advanced than what he has and that's saying something, because Bucky has a fully functioning metal arm. At least things are lining up again. ]
They found me after I fell from a train. Steve thought I was dead, so no one from our side ever came back for my body. No one should've survived it. Pretty sure that's how I lost my arm, but my memories are pretty fuzzy, uh, in general. My arm doesn't do that, though. Would've been really useful if it did.
I don't remember losing my arm, either. [ Though, he does remember the rest of it. And is a little concerned by all this fuzzy-memory talk. But it isn't like him to press— he's had enough of interrogation for one lifetime. ]
This one's a couple upgrades in. The Warsaw pact tech was a bit less impressive.
[ Bucky glances down at his own metal hand. He thinks he might remember getting it, but it's not a pleasant bit of memory and it's not something he wants to dwell on. ]
If mine's been upgraded, no one bothered to tell me about it. Last couple of years, I didn't have access to much and HYDRA had me before that, so...
[ He shrugs. ]
I should probably warn you that there's someone from HYDRA here who tried baiting me. They know what I am. Can't promise they won't come after you.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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<span style="font: 1.05em Courier, monospace;>Give me an hour?</span>
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[ Miscalculation. Maybe they aren't so similar after all. For some reason, that idea feels like a relief to Bucky. The idea of a guy who can read him that well makes his skin itch. ]
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[ Is this what internet dating feels like? He'd only recently discovered internet dating.
In any case, it doesn't take him quite an hour to get there, and he isn't wearing anything to make him look more distinctive. He did cut his hair when he got back to Olympia, so it's shorter than he sometimes wears it. ]
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Once he spots the person he's reasonably sure is the other Bucky (and that's still weird) he walks up to him like this is just two friends grabbing a coffee. ]
If I touch you, will it rip a hole in the very fabric of existence? Or is that not something you have to worry about after the world ends?
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I got no clue why you think this is my normal paygrade. [ It sort of is, but he doesn't like admitting that, even to himself. ] I'm not alternate universe Tony Stark.
[ The first name his mind comes up with. Reed Richards would have probably been a better namecheck. ]
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So we should find out, right? For science.
[ And he's just going to go ahead and cover all of his discomfort with another joke and a raised eyebrow. This is going well so far. ]
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I don't think I'll disappear.
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Well look at that. We're both fine. Bucky Barnes. Nice to meet you. I think.
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[ He says it like you'd tell a joke, and it is, but it's also nicer than what he'd have said about himself a year or two ago.
The silence lingers on for a few awkward seconds. What is he supposed to say next? ]
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Me, too.
[ There's something warmer in his eyes now, because he isn't joking. It's a sentiment he understands a little too well. Before he'd woken up here, his only positive review had been from Steve. Even now, plenty of people seem to like him fine, but he doesn't let too many of them see who he really is. Other than Steve and Peggy, who'd known him before everything, Brock had been the only person he'd really been all that honest with and even then he'd had to pepper everything with lies to sell the truths. ]
I think I might be an acquired taste.
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[ That might be the moral of his story, right there. The trouble was that the bad things came pretty hard, too. ]
Should I start at the beginning? I don't really remember Indiana. [ Where he was born, but not his home. ]
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[ He crams his hands into his pockets and tries not to feel like admitting that is a big deal, even though it sort of is. He has to imagine Steve's probably figured it out, but he hasn't asked Bucky what's missing. No one else really asks, either. ]
Start with the big stuff. You serve in the War?
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Uh-huh. The most underpaid private in the whole operation, by my reckoning. [ Not that he's complained in about seventy years. He probably did enough complaining back in the day to make up for it. It's— something, remembering the kid he was then. ] What happens when most of your work is off the books, I guess.
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Mine wasn't. I was just a regular Sergeant until after I was taken prisoner.
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Taken prisoner?
[ Now, during the war, he'd been captured a time or two, like all the Invaders. But that sounded like something bigger. ]
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[ They're getting into the territory of things he Doesn't Talk About. Even during the rest of the war, he'd clamped down on it and buried it and never really told Steve much about what had happened, but it seems necessary to compare notes now, so he pushes on. ]
They did something to me, though. Trying to replicate Steve's serum or something. It's probably how I survived everything.
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They've tried that a couple times. During the Cold War. [ He remembers the psycho fifties Cap he fought off a few times. He'd tried to duplicate the formula on himself. ] There were the prison experiments— [ the disgust in his tone is evident ] and then SHIELD ran a couple trials, but the Russians did too. None of it ever turned out good.
[ And he might as well admit this: ]
And none of it ever applied to me. [ There's no good reason for him to have survived everything. ]
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[ It seems like a fair question. If Bucky's going to dig up his dirty laundry, he doesn't want to be alone with it. ]
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[ He doesn't clarify who the "they" is he's talking about, but it's not a deliberate obfuscation, just the normal confusion of turning memories into words. ]
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[ And Bucky isn't sure why, because a few differences had set him at ease, like the other many couldn't get into his head, but now he really is starting to feel like he's spilling his guts to a stranger here and it's making his skin itch. ]
Maybe this.
[ He tries to poke at the other man's left arm to test it. ]
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The Russians recovered my body, after the explosion where I lost my arm.
[ This is another beginning, maybe. And he takes his arm back and holds it up, twisting some unknown internal mechanism that makes the fake skin fade away and the metal shown through. ]
They thought they might be able to get the serum from my blood.
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[ He touches the arm again. It's definitely more advanced than what he has and that's saying something, because Bucky has a fully functioning metal arm. At least things are lining up again. ]
They found me after I fell from a train. Steve thought I was dead, so no one from our side ever came back for my body. No one should've survived it. Pretty sure that's how I lost my arm, but my memories are pretty fuzzy, uh, in general. My arm doesn't do that, though. Would've been really useful if it did.
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This one's a couple upgrades in. The Warsaw pact tech was a bit less impressive.
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If mine's been upgraded, no one bothered to tell me about it. Last couple of years, I didn't have access to much and HYDRA had me before that, so...
[ He shrugs. ]
I should probably warn you that there's someone from HYDRA here who tried baiting me. They know what I am. Can't promise they won't come after you.
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[ Maybe it's a name he'll recognize. And if it's not— well, that'll be helpful too. ]
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