James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
woundedwinter) wrote2022-07-25 11:13 am
woundedwinter) wrote2022-07-25 11:13 am
Sandbox thoughts
Torchwood.
The last place Bucky was looking to find answers was in Cardiff, of all damn places, but he had run out of options.
Seventy odd years ago he was a solider, a sniper in the 107th and he had everything a fella could want. A best friend, a damn good career and a unit he cared for. A mission in the mountains had gone wrong. They were ambushed and in a desperate attempt to save his friend, Bucky fell. He didn't tumble down the side of the mountain or crash into the ice, though. He was swallowed up by a burst of blue-white light and six months ago he dumped in the middle of New Mexico with an artificial left arm and no memory of what had happened to him or why he'd been flung so far into the future.
He called in what favors he could, talked to anyone who would listen, desperate for answers. What had happened to him? Where had he gone? The Howling Commandos were long gone. He had nothing left.
It was easy to strike the deal in the end. Work with Torchwood and try and find the answers. They dealt in the weird and unexplained and god knows Bucky had enough of that.
The last place Bucky was looking to find answers was in Cardiff, of all damn places, but he had run out of options.
Seventy odd years ago he was a solider, a sniper in the 107th and he had everything a fella could want. A best friend, a damn good career and a unit he cared for. A mission in the mountains had gone wrong. They were ambushed and in a desperate attempt to save his friend, Bucky fell. He didn't tumble down the side of the mountain or crash into the ice, though. He was swallowed up by a burst of blue-white light and six months ago he dumped in the middle of New Mexico with an artificial left arm and no memory of what had happened to him or why he'd been flung so far into the future.
He called in what favors he could, talked to anyone who would listen, desperate for answers. What had happened to him? Where had he gone? The Howling Commandos were long gone. He had nothing left.
It was easy to strike the deal in the end. Work with Torchwood and try and find the answers. They dealt in the weird and unexplained and god knows Bucky had enough of that.
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There is an odd eclecticness to this space, and a considerable amount of clutter. It’s obvious that several people live here, and from what Steve can piece together, it’s Bucky and the brothers. He notes that odd person as Klaus, which means that there is the knife stealer somewhere.
Steve does relax a little while he parks himself at the table and accepts the beer. It won’t do anything for him but this feels normal. He and Bucky never drank together, Steve couldn’t before the war and during…. It wasn’t possible. But this is something friends do on TV shows and it leaves him more relaxed.
He feels a little badly wishing John and Pete would find someplace else to go but he and Bucky will have time. Eventually.
“Thanks.”
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John can take the hint in Steve's pinched expression and his lonely eyes refusing to leave Bucky. He sighs and stands up. "Come on lad, let's have a look around outside."
Peter is happy to go exploring with the mage, finally leaving Steve and Bucky with a few moments to themselves.
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He’s warm, a little sticky from whatever ordeal they had been through still, and in illfitting clothing, but he’s never been happier just to look at someone before. He can feel himself huffing at the way he’s behaving and lowering his eyes to the hand wrapped around the beer he probably won’t drink.
“I didn’t picture after the war quite like this but at least you’re here. With me.”
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But he's glad all the same. Steve is familiar and Bucky has been missing any tie to the man he was before he fell into that Rift.
"Feels like we tripped into one of those science fiction books I used to read to you when you got sick."
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He has to do more than state. God, Bucky must think he’s crazy. In a way, he feel like he really is. His mouth opens and he clamps it shut again. It happens twice more before he abandons his beer and just grabs Bucky up to hold him close.
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"It's okay Stevie. It's gonna be okay." After all, they found each other, they can do anything now. They can face it together.
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He holds the guy a little too hard, fist in the back of his shirt.
“Yeah, it’s okay now,” he promises, “but I’m just trying to convince myself you’re real, pal.”
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He wants to tell him, to show him that it's okay now, but it takes time to get over fears that had been ingrained since childhood. Don't tell. Keep it secret.
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“You’re…?”
He sort of knows how phones work. They’d given him one but he never remembers to keep it on him and it’s programmed to ring like a real phone.
On the other end of the line will be Jack, back it seems from Antarctica, calling everyone together.
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Diego has fetched Peter and Constantine, so Bucky hangs up and puts his phone away. Duty calls yet again, which means their talk will have to wait a little longer.
"C'mon. We're being called back for a debrief."
At least they can talk on the way?
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Cardiff looks like a much prettier New York, beautiful and winding streets with lots of trees and flowers and little front gardens to houses every few blocks in the middle of shops and high rise office and apartment buildings. It’s eclectic and Steve feels calm here.
“I kind of like that for you,” he grins, adjusting the weight of his shield on his shoulder.
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"I swear if a hat finds it's way home, I'm painting your shield pink."
He swings open the door and motions him inside. "Torchwood's given me a home and a team again. The missions are weird as hell, but I like it."
Maybe Steve will like it enough to stay too. He hopes so.
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He’s a little confused by the tiny shop they enter, though. There are old pamphlets and maps everywhere. It’s clean, though, not a speck of dust anywhere, and there’s all sorts of Weird alarms going off in Steve’s head. It doesn’t make sense—
But neither does the nondescript blue eyed man in the three piece suit ducking up from behind the counter. “They’re in already,” the man says in a very Welsh accent, eye lingering on Steve, who matches his energy.
The blond does offer his hand. “Steve Rogers—“
“Oh, we all know who you are. Ianto Jones. Pleasure.”
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Inside is vast, so Bucky keeps one hand light on Steve's elbow to steer him in the right direction.
"I'll give you the tour later pal."
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It’s something else. Something intense. Something like a real future. Steve has always wanted to protect people and this goes beyond trying to stop the Nazis.
There are people scurrying around on the various levels, most pausing to look down at him over railings. He can hear their murmurings but he can’t make out what about.
John and Peter are just to the left, what looks to be an old cinderblock office space. There are wooden chairs and desks, a white board, a chalk board, and technology that would make Howard Stark blush. It mixes interestingly together, the old and the new.
Jack is behind the desk, Klaus seated on the edge, but Sylar is no where to be seen. “Buck!” That would be Klaus, flamboyant and high on who knows what. “Daddy was just here telling us that Gabriel and he destroyed all of the crazy Rift monsters.”
Steve smiles. He always tries to fit in but…. It’s difficult. “One ate me.”
Klaus blinks at him. “Oh. Um. Glad that was a you problem.”
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He knows Jack is fine. But that doesn't stop him from giving him a quick glance before pulling his attention to Klaus. "Yeah, so much for an easy run checking Rift activity."
"We got a lead on where the rest are?'
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“Didn’t bring any back!” Klaus triumphs with a clap. “Which means that I’m no longer needed here. I have a little self medicating to doz”. He slips off of the desk, brushes up against John just to see if there’s anything in his pockets, which he will not take with Jack right there, and scoots.
Dark blue eyes from beneath the most well groomed, but stylish mop of brown hair scan the room. Three new comers and Bucky. Who knows where Diego went.
“That leaves us having to deal with you three.”
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Not that he has much to go home to, but he at least has to ask.
Bucky frowns at the idea. He just got Steve back. He can't let him go. Hell, if he has to, he'll go with him. It doesn't matter. They need to stick together.
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Steve doesn’t feel the same way that Peter looks. The kid has a family. Friends. A whole life. He glances at John.
For a man like him, without ties, here is as good as there.
Better even with Bucky.
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So like back home, he's on his own. Mister Rogers and Mister Bucky are familiar, but they don't know him.
"It's okay Peter," Bucky promises. "We're not exactly going to kick you to the curb in a new world." Torchwood could use a kid with his smarts, Steve's strength and the magic he had seen John do, but those choices were out of his hands.
"So what's next Jack? If the Rift closed are we waiting for the next one to act up?"
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There’s always Weevils. Blowfish. And the odd artefact.
Jack closes a folder on the desk and leans back to file it away. Yea, he always prefers hard copies. Deal with enough marauding technology and you would too.
“Right now, there’s nothing much to do.” Except look into each of these new people. But that’s not for Bucky to worry about.
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So he stuffs that down and follows them back to the building.
Bucky knows Jack will investigate their new arrivals, he's not naïve enough to think he's going to do anything less. Handling housing is easier for him to do, to make sure that Steve has a room near his and Peter will be just down the hall with Constantine. Handling billeting and food isn't the most interesting of jobs, but it needs doing and he's at least close enough to Steve to do it without any griping like any of the others might do.
"Joining up isn't required," he clarifies as Peter pokes at one of the tablets in the room. "You can stay here until you get settled then move on, it's pretty flexible here."
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Peter has been constantly eluding to the fact that he knows Steve, that he may look up to him, and that makes Steve responsible, in part, for the guy. He needs a family. They all do.
After the little meeting, and the housing situation being sorted, and Ianto tending to Peter and John for the moment, Steve pulls Bucky to the back. “Hey. You owe me a tour.”
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Ianto helps get them sorted and even has access so Peter can take classes online. He doesn't notice when Steve and Bucky slip away.
Bucky is all smiles as he shows him around. Labs, the weapons range, tech rooms, storage and even holding cells. "Don't go near the cells if we have a guest. Some of them are.. grouchy. And alien."