video

[prespangled]

[He was gonna go somewhere a little more peaceful for this, maybe the outskirts of the park. But his energy levels are running low, even lower than usual with the stress of late, not that he'd ever admit it.

But he's not dead, not even hurt really. He's just tired. So what you get is one Steve Rogers, sitting in front of a pile of nondescript rubble. There's something just at the edge of the video, something he tried to push out of sight completely. But anyone who's every seen a little red wagon will recognize it for what it is, no matter how dirty and dull it appears.]

I know just about everyone's had a rough few days recently. I thought...maybe I could help. [Those words bring a lump to his throat. He wanted to help while it was all going on too, but in the end he wasn't able to do much.] I'm already out, so if there's anything that you need, I'll do my best to find it and get it to you.

[Steve's eyes lift and dart to the wagon, which he has a love-hate relationship with right now. It reminds him of when Bucky wanted him to do this sort of thing. Pride is always a bitter pill to swallow, and Steve's never really managed to choke it down. Come to think of it, maybe that's the lump in his throat.]

Of course, I'll be able to get it there faster if anyone knows how to put a wheel back on. I can live with the scratches and dents.

Comments

[prespangled]

[The wagon doesn't move an inch, but Steve's breathing like he did a couple of laps around the block. He smooths his hair to the side and stands up straight again.]

I don't think you're a welterweight anymore.

[wipedclean]

I have a metal arm.

[Of course he's not a welterweight. Anyway.]

Catch your breath.

[They're not moving out until Steve is ready.]

[prespangled]

[It's not a bad point. Steve's eyes go to Bucky's other arm too, which is also bigger than it used to be.]

I'm fine. [Steve nods, tipping his chin up.] You pull. I'll look for stuff along the way.

[wipedclean]

[He nods. It's a fair compromise. He picks up the handle of the wagon and gestures.]

Lead the way.

[prespangled]

[Steve looks along the edge of the street as they go, checking random rubble and the windows of any stores they happen to pass along the way. He glances back at Bucky, a big man pulling a little red wagon behind him.]

Have you visited the armory before?

[wipedclean]

Once.

[He'd taken a look because obviously. But he hadn't taken anything. Not yet.]

It's all blades and bows and the like.

[No judgement, just facts.]

[prespangled]

Not your style?

[Because even in the forties, that stuff was a bit outdated. But Bucky didn't say that. His tone didn't suggest it either.]

You're pretty good with a blade though. I've seen you, that thing you do. [Steve does a little twirl with his fingers, gesturing the little flips that Bucky does with a knife when he's not even thinking about it.] Help me pick one out.

[wipedclean]

[He shrugs.]

It's fine. I wanted to see how well I could do with my own knives and guns first.

[He nods in answer to that second part.]

I will.

[Because it's important to have a suitable weapon, at least when you have the choice.]

[prespangled]

[The armory's a little further away than Steve obviously realized. He's sweaty, clearly tired on his feet, but he keeps moving forward. Eventually the building comes into view, more elegant that Steve imagined it.

Steve stares at the weapons that line the walls inside, sword after sword, spears, knives with blades of varying lengths.

And then he spots it; the thing that he's drawn to like a moth to the flame. Steve pulls the shield down, slides his arms through the straps before turning to face Bucky again.]

It's a little heavier than a trash can lid. But a lot sturdier too.

[wipedclean]

[He blinks.

That. That feels very familiar.]

It might be too heavy.

[He goes through the shields, testing them, until he finds one like the one Steve picked, but more lightweight. Still sturdy, though.]

Try this.

[prespangled]

[He places the first shield down, reaching for the one that Bucky chose. He can feel the difference right away.]

Oh yeah. [Steve tests it, raising and lowering his arm a little to test the strain. He could do this.] I think this might be the one. [He looks up at Bucky, smiling.] I didn't know you knew about shields too.

[wipedclean]

[He shrugs a little.]

I know about weapons. Doesn't matter what kind. Shields count too.

[He starts poking around the blades, shorter ones, picking them up and testing the weight and balance. After a few tries he offers one to Steve by the hilt.]

See how that feels.

[prespangled]

[Steve takes the blade, and it's a good length, not too heavy. But something about it still makes him frown to himself.]

Feels as good as any of 'em probably will. It's just less of my thing, you know what I mean?

[wipedclean]

[He gives Steve something of a Look.]

Neither of these are your thing. But you can learn.

[prespangled]

Well, they've gotta become my thing if I wanna help defend the city.

[Which reminds him. Steve looks up at him, wondering if he should approach the subject carefully or just come right out and say it.

Who are we kidding. The latter way is the only way Steve really knows.]

Would you be interested in that? If it was something a little formal.

[wipedclean]

[He considers.]

If you're doing it.

[prespangled]

I think you already know the answer to that.

[Steve smiles a little, mostly at Bucky's words. That's why he's his best friend, and nothing will change that. Maybe it's selfish, dangerous, downright stupid. But this is the only piece of home that he's got, and Steve won't surrender it.

But there is something they need to talk about, and Steve thinks he knows how to approach it now. He looks down for a moment, nodding to himself before looking up again.]

There's more to it than just standing guard. If the gods here make me do something, if they make me a danger to others, I want you to stop me.

[wipedclean]

[He stares for a long moment, unable to imagine Steve doing something that would be dangerous to anybody. Not because he's small, but because he simply can't imagine Steve doing such a thing. He's so stubborn. It must be impossible for his will to be overcome.

But he nods slowly, his brow furrowed.]

Alright.

[prespangled]

[He hopes that it never comes to that, and a part of him stubbornly insists that it won't. But...he's seen it for himself. Sometimes people here do things they wouldn't normally, and Steve doesn't think so highly of himself to believe that he's completely immune, no matter how much he hates it.

He waits to see if Bucky will say anything more in return. When he doesn't, Steve sighs and hangs his head again.]

We should. Maybe. Talk about you too.

[wipedclean]

[He blinks, but he gets it quickly. It was really just a lead in to his killing of his target not long ago. After he'd done it, he'd realized it had been unnecessary, superfluous, and quite possibly out of order. But he'd already been told by Bruce that death doesn't last around here, so even if it were out of line, how much damage did it really cause? The man would be back and running unnaturally fast not long after his demise.

But he can tell from Steve's expression that it was definitely out of order, and possibly very, very wrong. He swallows hard.]

What would you like to talk about?

[prespangled]

[It wasn't just a lead. Steve's been thinking about it a lot lately. Hell, sometimes it's all he can think about. It doesn't matter if people come back to life or not - he's not placing all of his eggs in that basket. It shouldn't happen regardless.

Bucky didn't know why he'd killed the guy, and Steve believes that he fell under the same spell that so many others had. It's just that he's good at it, better than most, and it's the sort of thing that could happen again.]

I worry about the people here. But you're my friend, and I don't want someone turning you into their scapegoat. But if we can figure out a way of stopping it from happening, not even giving them the chance, do you think that would be better?

[He's quiet for a second before adding.]

Buck. Whatever you choose, whatever you do, I'm on your side. I want you to know that.

[wipedclean]

[He blinks, frowns, tilts his head.]

I'm not sure I understand.

[Wait. That needs clarification.]

The first part. The second part is fairly clear.

[prespangled]

If we could figure out some way of the keeping the gods from using you as their weapon. [Steve looks up at him.] Would you trust that in my hands?

[wipedclean]

[Oh.

He thinks about that. He doesn't know if such a possibility exists.

But he nods.]

If that were possible, then yes. I would.

[He'd trust Steve with anything. He wonders if he should question that. But he doesn't. It's just a simple fact.]

[prespangled]

[Steve exhales. It was probably hard to tell that his narrow shoulders were tense before, but there's definitely some relaxing now. For him, that was the hard part.

The smile that he gives Bucky in return, all the love and appreciation and just a little bit of sadness in the curve of his lips might have something to do with why he trusts Steve.]

Someone mentioned sedatives. I'm not sure how I feel about it.