[He'd made a mistake doing this outside. He desperately needed to sit down, and there was no place except for the ground. For the moment, he settled for leaning against the wall.
He'd had a friend. A best friend. What even was that? He was still struggling to grasp the concept of normal friends and caring. He didn't even know what the hell love was.
[He almost offers a hand out to touch the mans shoulder, as if to steady him, as if he were waiting for a blow, but he drew back, keeping an eye on him instead as he leaned on a wall. Phil pocketed his hand again, moving to take a space on the wall beside him.]
It's... been some time. How much do you know about the second world war?
[Touching him would have resulted in pain right now anyway. He still jerked away a little, instinctively, putting more distance between himself and Coulson.]
Zola. The rise of Hydra.
[He knew a little of Hydra's history, even if he didn't particularly care about it. That wasn't when this had started, was it?]
That's part of it. [he said, leaning on the wall but yes, letting the man keep his distance. He stayed watchful, wondering how much would be too much for him to take at the moment.]
Do you... remember much? About how HYDRA found you? I know it might not seem important, but remembering anything of before HYDRA is actually very important.
[It was hard to even begin accepting that he had a life before Hydra, let alone remember any of it. He shook his head.]
I fell. There was snow.
[He'd fallen and he didn't think he should have survived. His arm had been torn off, they'd strapped him down, cut off the rest of it while he was still awake-
He gasped in a shaky breath, sliding down in a heap on the ground. Zola had been there. After? Before? He wasn't sure.]
[He watched, curious, but also concerned as the other spoke, slid down the wall. This had to be a lot to take. Pushing memories like this, if there were memories at all.]
That's a start. Yes, they said you fell from the train. They weren't able to find and recover a body though, but you were presumed dead. Hey, take it easy, RS. Slow breaths, alright? I'm sure it's a lot to take in all at once, but no more secrets. We'll go through this as slow as you need. All right?
[No, nothing was all right. Nothing had been all right since he'd gotten here. It hadn't even been all right when he'd been fighting the man on the bridgehis best friend? Steve. In a way, he desperately longed for the times when things had been simple, when there was only the ice, the chair, and orders. Things were so complicated now.
Monsters. Compliance. Independence. Memories. Emotions were terrifying, and he wasn't so sure he wanted them. He wasn't supposed to have these things; the best weapons didn't have anything like this. He was so badly broken, how could anyone ever want him for anything?]
That's not my name. [He snapped.
He had a proper designation now, just like a person.]
[He expected strong reactions, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to worry a bit anyhow. He watched, keeping back and not moving from the wall, but he tried to be soothing. Soothing Skye was so much easier then soothing a broken minded brainwashed 90 something year old assassin...]
I know what your name is, or what your designations have been, but... What would you like me to call you?
[It's his choice. He's trying to give him that kind of freedom to choose]
[Coulson had said his friends had called him Bucky, but was Coulson a friend? Were friends not enemies, or was there more to it than that?
Pulling himself together, he lifted his chin and pushed himself to his feet, no matter how shaky he was. He wasn't okay, not in the slightest, but sitting on the ground made him feel vulnerable-made him look vulnerable.]
James it is. [Not a friend. Got it. And he was fine with that anyhow, because it was a start. A name was always a good start to taking back ones humanity.]
[He didn't move to help the other stand. He's sure it wouldn't have been taken well.]
Is there... anything else you want to know right now, James?
[He hesitated for a moment. There was a lot he wanted to know, but he didn't know where to start. Was he ready for it? How would he even ask? He knew something else now though, too. Coulson would give him answers in the future if he asked. The man wasn't afraid to tell him, like the others were.
Maybe they were right to be afraid. Even he didn't know how many people he'd killed or hurt. He was dangerous; just like he'd been trained to be.]
Yes. [Phil said with little thought. He didn’t know him in person, ever, but if Steve Rogers was friends, best friends with the man? How could he have been anything but a good person? Though from what he knows about history? The answer was still yes.]
And as a person, no longer anyones weapon? I believe you still are or can be a good person.
[Was that the answer he'd been hoping for? Or the one he'd been dreading? He didn't know how to be a good person, and he didn't remember ever being one before. He knew how to follow orders, how to kill and hurt, but he didn't know how to be anything else.
And here, someone he didn't even know believed he could be good. Did the others have expectations and beliefs like that, too? It was overwhelming.
He couldn't do this. He could do this right now. He turned away from Coulson, a little shaky still as he started to walk away. The house with Skye and the others...the castle he'd stayed at with Reira, he couldn't go to either of those places. He needed somewhere to be alone.]
[He isn't sure if that was the right answer to tell him, but it was the truth anyhow. And as the man started to pull away and walk off he figured they were done for now. Nothing else required at this time. And look, Phil was still breathing. So he didn’t follow, but after a moment called out to him, being sure to use his name.]
James! [He paused, just to make sure that maybe, maybe he was listening.] If you ever need anything else. You know how to get hold of me. I’m willing to help, if you need it.
[he’d leave it at that unless the other had more to add or not.]
[He paused for a moment, obediently, even though he didn't have to, and he listened. Even though he'd just said Coulson could call him James, it was strange to hear it. He inclined his head to acknowledge that he understood, even if asking for help was hard, and he'd only done it once when it was for someone else, and then kept walking.]
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vintageset) wrote2015-06-05 11:00 pm
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If history is to be believed, he was your best friend. A childhood friend.
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He'd had a friend. A best friend. What even was that? He was still struggling to grasp the concept of normal friends and caring. He didn't even know what the hell love was.
Childhood?]
How long ago?
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It's... been some time. How much do you know about the second world war?
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Zola. The rise of Hydra.
[He knew a little of Hydra's history, even if he didn't particularly care about it. That wasn't when this had started, was it?]
no subject
Do you... remember much? About how HYDRA found you? I know it might not seem important, but remembering anything of before HYDRA is actually very important.
no subject
I fell. There was snow.
[He'd fallen and he didn't think he should have survived. His arm had been torn off, they'd strapped him down, cut off the rest of it while he was still awake-
He gasped in a shaky breath, sliding down in a heap on the ground. Zola had been there. After? Before? He wasn't sure.]
no subject
That's a start. Yes, they said you fell from the train. They weren't able to find and recover a body though, but you were presumed dead. Hey, take it easy, RS. Slow breaths, alright? I'm sure it's a lot to take in all at once, but no more secrets. We'll go through this as slow as you need. All right?
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the man on the bridgehis best friend?Steve. In a way, he desperately longed for the times when things had been simple, when there was only the ice, the chair, and orders. Things were so complicated now.Monsters. Compliance. Independence. Memories. Emotions were terrifying, and he wasn't so sure he wanted them. He wasn't supposed to have these things; the best weapons didn't have anything like this. He was so badly broken, how could anyone ever want him for anything?]
That's not my name. [He snapped.
He had a proper designation now, just like a person.]
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I know what your name is, or what your designations have been, but... What would you like me to call you?
[It's his choice. He's trying to give him that kind of freedom to choose]
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Pulling himself together, he lifted his chin and pushed himself to his feet, no matter how shaky he was. He wasn't okay, not in the slightest, but sitting on the ground made him feel vulnerable-made him look vulnerable.]
James.
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[He didn't move to help the other stand. He's sure it wouldn't have been taken well.]
Is there... anything else you want to know right now, James?
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Maybe they were right to be afraid. Even he didn't know how many people he'd killed or hurt. He was dangerous; just like he'd been trained to be.]
Was he-was I...a good person?
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And as a person, no longer anyones weapon? I believe you still are or can be a good person.
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And here, someone he didn't even know believed he could be good. Did the others have expectations and beliefs like that, too? It was overwhelming.
He couldn't do this. He could do this right now. He turned away from Coulson, a little shaky still as he started to walk away. The house with Skye and the others...the castle he'd stayed at with Reira, he couldn't go to either of those places. He needed somewhere to be alone.]
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James! [He paused, just to make sure that maybe, maybe he was listening.] If you ever need anything else. You know how to get hold of me. I’m willing to help, if you need it.
[he’d leave it at that unless the other had more to add or not.]
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