(no subject)

[disassembling]

Character: James "Bucky" Barnes &
Time period: Post-CA: TWS
Warnings: Obsessive Bucky on the loose.


At first, independence had seemed like one of his better ideas, but he had begun to revise his opinion once he had verified certain truths, taken noted of the factions searching for him, and realizing that the world was a wide landscape where a man could get lost. After he had rearmed himself from the bodies of two Hydra agents, a drug dealer, and a gang banger, he had come to realize that slipping away, hiding, being nothing at all was very easy, too easy.

He had been built on the foundation of a command structure for more than seventy years. Even before the blurred vagueness of falling, he knew order and military command. Aside from mashed up images, feelings and impressions, he knew that he had to have some manner of structure in his life. With no more commands down the line, he loitered, slipping through the shadows on Washington for awhile, finding the unsavoury places and people, leaving a few bodies in his wake and not particularly caring that they were found and televised either. A weapon bared he moved through the chaos at first because it was all he knew, listless for anything but the violence he had played a role in for so long. It lost it's purpose without the trigger of structure.

His world stagnated as he avoided those who hunted him, and he cared little for the lives he took when they found him. They came to command him because they thought he would simply bow to old standards, that he would go back to being his code name if they applied even electricity to his brain. They hadn't earned the right to command him. They were weaker than he, hadn't even survived a single encounter when he decided to throw his weight back at them. They were weak men, lost in words and hiding behind guns and dying in the shadows of buildings and trees.

Slowly, resolution began to form from the ashes of his lost command structure. He decided he would allow himself to be commanded again, that he yearned to be commanded by someone with the strength of both character and body to overtake him or at least bow him slightly with respect. Pierce had been like that, he reflected. The man hadn't needed to physically harm him to command his respect, though he remembered well being struck when he required the prompt. A few others had commanded a similar reaction deep in his guts, and his attention snapped over to them. One at a time, he decided. One searched, the other could be found if he looked.

He had been lost for a few months, considering leaving to go to Brooklyn for more pieces of an old puzzle, but he was drawn back into Washington because beating information out of a SHIELD agent had satisfied him that he would get what he wanted. As a ghost story, he knew that the only way to get proper attention was to do something not only obvious but dramatic. His depth of dramatic no doubt would be very different from others that he knew existed, but like a well-trained dog returning to his master, he knew how to get the attention that was needed to invite a recall command.

Hydra agents were not easy to find in large quantities in Washington anymore, most arrested or underground and hiding. It took him two days to find a nest of the vipers, using the old underground tunnels that he knew well. He'd ended them to prove he might not be under command, but it was something worth earning given his skills. Their bodies were left in obvious Hydra uniforms and symbols and piled high in front of the Smithsonian. As if the symbol of his loyalty degradation wasn't enough, none of the corpses had heads, and he had piled them in such a way that he could sit atop the whole mess and lounge there as obvious as the start of a new day.

Media and police were one thing, not that interesting, but he let them think they had command of him for a moment. Let them show his face around for SHIELD and Hydra and them to know he was here. Meaningless orders were ignored, people's reactions only earned a turning of his cheek in dismissal before he knew that the police presence would be a problem to slip away from. Instead he slipped from his lounging perch to ignore warnings and breaking into the Smithsonian because it suited him there. It seemed a fitting place to bow to the command of someone worthy.

Comments

[disassembling]

He admitted that he was slightly curious of her origins considering he knew that they were called 'clones'. He knew that much of Hydra dabbled in that sort of thing in an attempt to make a perfect soldier but also to expand on the world to something greater than the rolls in the sheets that humans normally did. They had been dabbling in things best left alone for many years, but he had been a part of some of it and a victim of other parts, though his memories were hazy. For now, it didn't seem particularly important.

"Depends on where the threads lead, but you don't have to go back that many years," he said casually and looked at the picture again. "Reliving being dead? James Barnes died seventy years ago; what life do I have looking at a memorial?"

He made no move to give her back the photo and instead pushed off the memorial. "Do you really think I'm going to let you leave here?"

[cloneororiginal]

Cloning was part of a future Hydra wanted to create. A world where they picked the best genes and created life to serve their purpose. They could take the best of people and create beings whose sole purpose was to live up to Hydra's standards. It was the perfect way to establish and maintain control. Thus far Project Leda had been a success and prior to Hydra's fall, they wanted to keep going.

Sarah wanted to know her origins to know if she had the marker for the defective gene. She fought to keep her life and wouldn't have her own body betray her in such a fashion. The only thing standing between her finding Duncan was him.

"Maybe I want to dig deeper. It's my call." She didn't have to answer to him or anyone else.

"Dunno, for all I know you could be waiting for Captain America to show up and knock your teeth out." Why else would he set up camp here? For shits and giggles?

The longer he made her wait the more irritated and annoyed she became. How hard was it to hand back a simple picture? Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly at him. They had a deal. They exchanged information and now they could part ways. A clean break for the two of them. She could find answers and he...could continue to live in a museum.

"I know you're not stupid enough to make threats to me." Her hand slowly moved back to her side.

"Do you really want t'fight? We know the outcome of it." They would fight their hardest, leaving bruises, marks and scrapes on the other. Someone would get shot at, possibly wounded and some how, some way, it would cause both of them to fall back to their old routine where their clothes would vanish and they'd experience a warmth and bliss that only came from releasing tension.

"Save us both the time and give me the photo back."

[disassembling]

It was her right to dig as deep as she wanted to about her life, but she had to recognized that Hydra might have been underground now, but they would come to collect the pieces of the puzzle back together. Work would either be deemed unfit or pulled back into the fold, and the clone project seemed far too important to have any known clones wandering around looking for answers to questions about their origins and worse their genetic make-up.

"You might not want to pull on that thread; it might not lead to where you want it to," he replied simply. Hydra secrets had secrets and they weren't friendly. One clone searching for a single man that might be alive or dead? It seemed like an interesting adventure.

"I'm wanting for something far less significant," he murmured as he made a show of tucking her photo into his vest carefully so as not to damage it. He zipped the pocket closed and allowed his hands to return to his sides casually. "Purpose and structure," he added airily. "A mission to find a lost scientist gives me a break from running about like a rabid dog."

He wasn't afraid of the threat of a fight, but he knew it was also dangerous to do it here when he had left that nifty gift outside. "You either let me come with you, or I let slip to Hydra where you're going. Don't think they won't be interested in a non-coughing clone."

[cloneororiginal]

"I'm interested t'see how deep the rabbit hole goes." It was her choice to know where she came from, who she was created after or from. After that...she didn't know what she'd do. Maybe this adventure would bring her some closure and in the process take care of some of the people who thought her weak. Maybe even find that bitch, Rachel and do her in.

A growl rose up in her throat watching him carefully tuck her photo away. Fine, he could keep it. She had the photo memorized enough to do well without it. But no, he wanted to force his way to go with her. Why? Didn't he want to fight someone else or...do whatever it is he liked doing these days.

"Let it slip, then. I know they're after me and if more come to the party, the more fun I'll have." Sarah wasn't backing down from the issue. He wasn't coming. There was no need for them to fall back into their old habits, even if a tiny part of her did like his company.

"If you want your own fun find it elsewhere, Barnes."

[disassembling]

"You might be well trained, but you haven't had the access that I have," he replied simply and shifted his metal hand up as if he were studying his fingernails. "I don't see why this little charade can't continue, unless you're afraid that I'll show you up and steal the glory or hide information from you."

He was going with her, but she just hadn't agreed to it yet. Even if she slipped away, he would follow her, hunt her and keep danger from him because he decided it was structure enough that he could focus on it. He had nothing else after all; Hydra was too deep rooted for him to consider killing it all. This was something he could do well and easily, and he embraced it without even caring for her permission.

"Leaving a trail of bodies only brings more attention. The best you can hope to do is bury them," he replied as he regarded her with cool calculation. She could run and hide and be hunted and never see the end of the rabbit hole she was looking down. "Don't call me 'Barnes'," he snarled, showing teeth in pure threat.

He actually hadn't developed a taste for being called anything really. The name hurt, but he wasn't about to admit it.

[cloneororiginal]

"It's about bloody glory!" Sarah snapped, growing more frustrated and annoyed with him as the seconds ticked on. There was no way she could've expected him to want to tag along with her. She was prepared to do things on her own. Prepared to handle her business, even if it meant she might die from it.

If she did die, at least it would be because she was doing something she wanted to do.

"You're one t'talk, considering your handy work outside." It wouldn't be that hard to hide a dead body or more. Thus far she had done well for herself, keeping her tracks covered unless she wanted to be found. But, he was the best tracker around. Even if she walked away from him, he'd find her. He always found her.

"Make me," she hissed back with anger in her brown eyes. He was doing a far better job of pushing her buttons than she was doing to him. Her fingers were itching to draw her weapon out and shot him. He'd evade her shots, of course and knowing her luck, one would ricochet and end up going through her instead.

[disassembling]

"And if you want to live long enough to see the other side of whatever glory there might be, you need me," he replied coldly, aware that it was true. No one escaped him when he wanted to find them, and there was no way that he was going to let this single opportunity slip away from him regardless of how annoyed she might be with him. She was easy to ire, but her emotions tended to boil into something warm and pleasurable, so he wasn't going to complain much. It was all part of getting what he wanted.

"And do you see them storming the building coming to get me because of it?" He stepped closer as if to prove his point about his own freedom right now. He stood in a shrine to a life that had fallen into the cold, no more than a passing salute the man he once was. "You can't evade me, Sarah. You can't evade Hydra forever either, and what's the point of a fool's quest if you aren't given some information for your troubles?"

He turned his face aside from her attempt to badger him. He could crush her skull if it suited him after all. "You need your tongue to interrogate people, so I'll let it slide this time."

[cloneororiginal]

As much as she wanted to deny, scream and yell at him, what he said was true. She wouldn't be able to escape him or Hydra. She would always have to live her life looking over her shoulder to see if anyone was following her. It wouldn't be much of a life, but at least it would be hers. This was all assuming she left the museum with her life still in tact. As it were she wanted to put her gun between his eyes and fire. If not that, then land a good blow to his head.

"I don't need you. Been doin' just fine without you," she hissed between gritted teeth.

He was tempting her, toying with her and doing one hell of a job of it. Either she would have to shoot something when this was all over, or get a stiff drink. Maybe both.

"I can get the information on my own. You're the one that needs a fucking distraction or a hobby..." the words were murmured to herself as she attempted to calm herself down. It wasn't working, it rarely did.

"You..." Sarah stopped herself, forcing herself to take a deep breath and take a step back.

"A fucking, god awful prick." She said the words loud enough for him to hear. There was no point in arguing anymore. He was standing by his decision and she doubted any persuasion on her part would make him change his mind.

"Fine. You can come along."

[disassembling]

Oh yes, she had been doing just fine on her own tracking him down when he laid the most obvious sign out on the doorstep and then lost her apparent only piece of connection to her past to him. She was doing very well on her own, and he knew that her temper would get the best of her soon enough. As far as he was concerned, he had her eating out of the palm of his hand and she just hadn't realized it yet. That was the way he liked to play when he had set his mind on a task.

He did need a distraction and a hobby, but he had just found one. He felt no need to tell her that right now though, since he knew with her snarling and anger that she was losing her feel of the situation. If he waited her out and poked her a little more, she would give in with little fight and they would be on their way. He'd even give her back her nice little photo once they were out of the Smithonian too.

He smirked when she cussed him out and knew he had won. He shifted his weight to a more relaxed pose, looking eerily similar to the man displayed on the monument behind him. "It's a good thing you accepted the inevitable. A shorter time than most of your project."