fossilised | For Steve

For Steve

The war had been raging for a long time now, and James Buchanan Barnes had been drafted some months ago to ship out to Europe and fight with all the others in the trenches and on the front lines. Telegrams came back daily with the news of more brothers, sons, fathers, and husbands killed. More friends who will never return, and still there was no end in sight.

But then something even stranger began happening on both sides of the timeline.

All the newsreels were reporting strange anomalies centred in New York City and Washington D.C. that could only be explained by time itself unravelling in places. Buildings that changed to vast monoliths of glass and steel for a few minutes and then back again, a faded billboard for asthma cigarettes becoming a full colour motion picture of a man eating soup. Some people had even said they had met men and women claiming to be from the future, though this was all hushed up.

It only lasted a few days, and then it was sorted. Sealed, the government official offices said, just a trick by the Nazis to confuse us. Forget it and go about your day.

But there were pieces of the future lost in the past for good.

The Winter Soldier-- Bucky-- whoever he was now, confused fragmented memories all he had to go on, had been thrown through time unceremoniously into a street that looked altogether familiar and confusing. He hid from the authorities who were collecting all the anomalies with ease, even though his manner of dress was out of place now with jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. He didn't change it. He found his feet taking him somewhere only half remembered.

An apartment with a key hidden under an old brick. Why did he know it was there?

He didn't know. He just let himself in, quiet as a whisper, and made his way through to the bedroom where someone was asleep under the covers. Skinny, blond, somehow also familiar (the man on the bridge? The man in the Potomac? The man at the museum? No, that didn't make sense, that man had bulging muscles, but somehow he was sure they were the same). He didn't say anything, just stood there and watched impassively, waiting for the man to wake up.

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It was good to see him, a piece of home in this strange place. She was not particularly given to sentiment, or at least not openly expressing it, but she already found this entire reality to be distasteful and the news that her counterpart was a wanted traitor was sour indeed.

"Not my Midgard, Anthony."

She offered him a hand to help him up, sure he would be able to feel that the temperature here was at least a few degrees higher than it ever got on Midgard now. Jotunheim may not have frozen Midgard, but it no longer had many tropical zones and few places got consistent summers.

"A different reality, and we cannot return. I required your presence, what remained of the pathway allowed me to bring you here, but that is all. This Midgard has no ruler, they do not understand their rightful place."

A few of Loki's homes along the equator were still pretty warm during some months to have grass, but her palace was up north in New York in America, a beautiful place indeed. Everyone that lived there was happy and well cared for, the education and health care were spectacular and no one had to struggle to survive as a few places still did. Loki's rule was as benevelant as the one who had brought Midgard under their protection centuries before Anthony was born, but the wilder and freer areas still suffered for that.

The human frowned a little as he took his queen's wrist to pull himself up, standing proud in her colors. He liked his clothing, soft leathers and tall boots. He liked to wear her greens and golds, her standards. Most of New York had taken to it, of course. They all loved their Queen.

"Uh-- Okay. When you say we can't go back... Do you mean ever? Because your sisters were discussing weapons size last I heard."

He was less concerned about an unruly Midgard. His Queen would just insert herself as ruler here and everything would be fine. Just fine indeed.

He had no qualms about that.

"So... Uh... Right. What place is this?" It didn't look right. It looked almost like some compound cities did a century ago before he helped to progress the planet into an age of sky scrapers and plenty.

It was ugly and small, desolate compared to the great metropolises of her Midgard. How could the mortals here think that they had things so much better by being free, when they were so obviously worse off? Perhaps it was just that nobody had shown them as much yet, which was a failing on those of Jotunheim and Asgard.

"I am certain that my siblings will find other things to occupy themselves. There is a Thor here, Anthony, he is great fun. I hope you have your camera on you, I wish a picture to show my sister what she would look like as a man."

Thor was never not going to amuse her, he was just so absurdly muscled.

She turned to begin to lead him back to the garage, when Steven-- no, not Steven, the false Steven appeared out of the gloom to block their way. Yet again he gave no real deference, though he looked a little surprised to see someone else with her.

"Sorry, but you can't go back in there, Tony said he needs time and space. And I'm pretty sure that we all told you not to go bringing anyone else in here, who is this?"

It took absolutely no time for Anthony to figure out that this wasn't his Steve. He'd just left his side literally moments ago and he wouldn't have been able to change out of the colors he wore in Thor's honor, not even with the knowledge of the spell used to dress and undress into and out of the appropriate clothing that the royal slaves all possessed. He had never seen Steve in a white shirt that barely fit him and loose pants like those. Not ever.

He had a few questions though. Firstly, who was Tony? Secondly, why were there weird copies of them in this place? Thirdly, who were the people behind him? Anthony, ever curious and encouraged to be, sauntered towards Steve. He had his camera in his hand because he never went anywhere without his phone, and stopped just a few inches away from the hulking brute whose friendship he had enjoyed for years upon years now. They weren't always around one another but they were the slaves of ruling sisters. They had kinship in that.

"You're.... Amazing. And so much more rude here. I love it. Don't you love it?" he asked his mistress, knowing Loki absolutely did not love it. She wanted respect more than anything else. And she almost always got it. "If you're here-- Hey. How come you don't know me? Anthony? Hi? Jeez. What right do you have to tell the Queen not to do something she wants anyway. Who are-- oh Odin's Beard. Is that-- Princess Thor?!"

Wow.

Just--

"Can you fit through doors?!" Anthony looked back over his shoulder at Loki and mouthed that 'Wow, Big!' thought that was in his head.

Loki reached out and traced long fingernails gently across the back of Anthony's neck, a warning not to overstep his mark when it came to Thor. This was not her sister, used to the eccentricities of Loki's slave, this was a new and volatile creature and she would not have herself disgraced by even a beloved slave.

Steve felt sick.

As soon as he realised who this was and what he was saying, the way he stood in that naturally cocky pose but with his body language geared towards Loki as if waiting for command, it was disgusting. It was wrong. Of all the people he knew, Tony Stark was the least likely to ever let anyone boss him around, and so this disturbed him.

He shot a look of pure and unfiltered disapproval at Loki. She was a bully, trying to own others, and that meant they were not going to be friends. Not ever.

"Hey-- Tony, Anthony, how about you come with me and I'll get you something to eat, then we can talk, okay?"

Loki nodded her consent. "You may go, just do not stray beyond my call."

"I wasn't asking you," Steve shot right back. "With no due respect at all, ma'am, this isn't your world and you have no right to order anyone around. I'm asking To--Anthony if he wants to get something to eat, not you."

No human, ever, had disrespected Loki in front of him before, not in all of his years. He was not just mortified by the words coming out of Steve's mouth, but he felt himself immediately become overwhelmed and emotional on Loki's behalf. She did not need him to defend her. Not even the insulting tongue of the dark elves nor the dwarves moved Loki to act with anything but grace, but this was a Midgardian, this was his kin, his brother, priveledged and selected above all the rest to reside on Asgard in the service of a princess who would eventually come to the throne as All-Mother!

It was probably comical, the look on Anthony's face, like he had completely been shattered. His mouth was slightly agape and he took a step back towards his Queen.

There was never a life outside of servitude that Anthony had ever known. Slavery, as a concept he was familiar with, was a priveledged position, one every single human wanted. The word itself was synonymous with serfdom or service, Anthony never felt himself to be owned so much as employed...perhaps even loved. Loki had no obligation to love him but oh, he loved her something feirce.

And perhaps that was why the upset turned into anger. "You will immediately apologize! I don't care if this version of Midgard has no law and no one to rule it, regular guest rights demand respect of foreign ruling bodies and-- You just can't talk to my Queen like that!" Anthony finally snapped with tears in his eyes.

Loki pitied her slave. Midgardians, no matter how intelligent and useful, were still just fragile creatures and this was a lot for her Anthony to take in. She reached up and rested a possessive hand on his shoulder, a silent reminder that nothing these mortals could say would remove him from her possession.

Steve wasn't angry, he was heartbroken.

He didn't blame Tony for what he said as much as he blamed Loki, it was almost similar to Bucky's situation. Well, maybe not quite, but it was clear that Tony had been brainwashed and conditioned to believe that being a slave was okay. There was no way he was going to stand for this.

"Earth doesn't need anyone to rule it, Tony. The people here are free, and they're better for it, we don't need anyone else owning us and telling us that we're better off that way. You don't have to defend her and what she's done, not any more. Come on, just-- come with me, get something to eat, and we can talk. That's all, just talk."

"Go with him," Loki murmured in the Old Tongue so that Steve could not understand. "I wish to know why Jotunheim does not hold sway here, and why Thor fights alongside these mortals as equal."

The idea of going with Steve was disgusting. Being around him, someone he truly cared for who happened to currently be a radical heathen, was just too much. He wanted to refuse Loki, and sometime he did, usually with a lot of whining or with simply pretending he didn't hear her, but he would never disgrace her in public. So now he had no choice. Her words were soothing, but Anthony was pretty sure that the moment he was alone, he would probably weep for having to endure this.

"It's Anthony. How are you getting Tony from An-Thow-knee?" He called Steven Steve a lot of the times, but that was just dropping off the N. Steve usually called him Anth back. He stepped forward, knowing he had to do important work for Loki, but he didn't get within arm's length of this man or the others standing around behind him.

And he might have cast this male Thor a big old glare because damn it! He really should keep his slave in line!

Walking with Steve over fresh glass between squat, one and two story buildings of concrete and glass made him feel like an alien in his world. "Why do yo live in such squalor, Steve? This place is awful. Is everyone so poor?"

"Poor? This is the Avenger's compound, T--Anthony, it's pretty high tech. Nothing like Stark Tower, back in New York proper, but it's got all the conveniences."

Jeez, even if this guy was another Tony, which he did seem to be even despite the baby face that just made Steve's heart ache all the more to want to free him, the idea of anyone thinking anywhere that Tony built and maintained to be 'poor' was incredible.

He led Tony to one of the communal buildings and into the main kitchen, all sleekly designed machines and modern decoration. Nothing compared to what this Anthony had invented, able to push all his genius away from weapons and into other projects, what all of mankind had accomplished because of that.

"Sit down, you want something to eat? Tony-- the other Tony, he's working at the moment, but JARVIS has probably told him that you're here."

This was considered pretty high tech? Seriously? How? Where were the botanical gardens? What about the sky lane markers? The traffic? The brightness of lights he had designed thst provided everyone the ability to see at night without drowning out the stars from light pollution? Where were all of the robots? And the people? Why weren't there more people? Anthony had so many questions.

He sat down at a chrome table that didn't automatically wipe away his finger prints and he drew back, partially disgusted. Didn't the table self-sanitize?

His fingers balled together until Steve mentioned JARVIS, and then his massive brown eyes just lit up. Tony Stark had been so very handsome when he was Steve's age evidently. The seemingly twenty-five year old man was vibrant and buzzing with life despite his slavery.

"J! You're here?"

"I am, sir. How may I assist you?"

"Well you can replace the table top for one. The bacterial barrier seems to be down," Anthony grunted. He sort of wanted Steve replaced too but he didn't ask. "And you cane come out of wherever you're hiding too!" He could use the hug.

"Sir, I am unfamiliar with what you are requesting and as you know, I possess no physical form."

Anthony stood up immediately. He didn't like this place at all. "How can you live like this?!"

Steve watched Tony carefully without seemingly like he was watching him carefully, a trick he had got very good at in Bucky's early days of recovery. Or still now, sometimes, when he behaved like a cornered animal getting ready to fight. Tony seemed the same way - or Anthony, whatever, though he didn't like to think of him that way. Tony hated his full given name, this just felt like more brainwashing.

"Alright, try to take this calmly and one step at a time."

Steve moved to the counter and began getting out a loaf of bread and some potted ham, preparing to make some sandwiches because at least that was quick and easy.

"This isn't the world you're used to, so a lot's going to be different here, but that doesn't make it bad. We're free here, remember? And now that you're here, you don't have to go back there again. We'll figure out how to keep you safe, okay?"

He pushed one completed sandwich at Tony with the crusts cut off, just like the idiot inventor who was apparently secretly a child always demanded. Like it was his life's goal to have Captain America make him sandwiches with the crusts cut off.

"I can't stay here." Anthony didn't sit back down. He looked at horror struck, at the table, at the sandwich, at Steven thinking he would ever want to live here. Forever. "We're going back. I'm going to figure out a way and we are going back away from this backward, awful place as soon as possible. Odin's beard, Steve. How can you want to live like this?!"

He was never this emotional. He was never this lost. He'd been raised by a man who had been an integral part of the coming of the modern Age of Enlightenment.

"Why do you keep saying you're free as if I'm not? Our people have not suffered from war or disease or famine in twelve hundred years. Since the Jotun came and put us under their protection, we have thrived. Prospered. You don't even have the ability to disinfect your eating surfaces and you're eating-- oh what is that you're trying to get me to eat?!"

"It's a sandwich, just a regular potted meat sandwich, it's not gonna hurt you."

Steve made sure to keep his voice and gestures soothing, heart aching like crazy for this poor version of his friend. He looked so young, so vulnerable, and he was obviously really far under brainwashing. At least he had a lot of experience in dealing with friends who had undergone transformations.

"You're not free, Tony. This isn't freedom, thinking that somebody else has the right to own you and direct you. Our planet is our own. Maybe it's not perfect, maybe we still fight one another, but we are trying to build a better future."

He nudged the sandwich a bit closer.

"It's okay, I won't make you do anything. But why don't you sit down, okay? Tell me who or what the Jotuns are."

Thor had never been particularly specific about the nature of Loki being adopted, just that he was.

"I am not sitting on anything that hasn't been sanitized," Anthony said immediately, "and I am not eating something that I can't tell what it is just by looking at it." He'd starve here. This was a place of cookies shaped like animals and animals shaped like stars and dinosaurs (looking at you, chicken nuggets). It was a place of the artificial. Of chemicals and additives.

Eventually, Steve did get him to sit on the sofa in the next room. It was leather and Anthony seemed comforted by that. It was finally something natural amid all of this white and empty furnishings. He had never felt so alone. Not even when he had been selected to be given to Loki when he was just twelve years old, he had never once felt this alone.

"The Jotun-- well you must know about Asgard. You have a.... You know Prince Thor. He is Asgardian, born and raised to rule Asgard when the All-Father, overlord of all the Nine Realms, passes to Valhalla. This is Midgard. Home to humanity. Jotnar are from Jotunheim. They're frost giants. Loki was born second daughter to Laufey-King, who annexed Midgard and set it to vassalage over a thousand years ago. Her eldest natural sister rules Jotunheim and Loki rules Midgard. She is fair and kind to us. To all of us. We are members of the free markets on Vanaheim, we have status in the federation of Realms Beyond. We don't live in such horrible squalor. Steve, these places? This looks like how we lived five hundred years ago! Salted flayed meats and squat, low buildings. Why hasn't humanity professed passed this? My dad grew up this way, long before I was even born! This is seriously disgusting."

A thousand years was a heck of a long time for humanity, so many generations that it was no wonder that they felt they had no choice in continuing to live under the yoke of someone else. But that also brought into question - how had both Loki and Anthony recognised him as he was now, and not Grant? It had been the war effort that had pushed him to take part in the serum process, if there had been no war for a thousand years then how had he become this sort of man? He had no idea that the healthcare of humanity had progressed to the point where his asthma and other ailments had been healed by the time he was four, and then he had been able to grow and beef himself up in natural ways so that he could stand a chance of being chosen by Thor. All of her slaves were extremely physically fit, they had to be in order to keep up with her on campaign or on the hunt.

He looked pretty disturbed by the whole notion, but at least he finally had Anthony sat down on the couch and talking to him rather than freaking out in the kitchen about sandwiches. He had asked JARVIS to have some take-out delivered to see if any of that would appeal instead, thankfully the amount of money that Tony had made delivery places come out even a few hours to the compound and he could reheat.

"I've never met a frost giant, I had no idea that's what Loki was, though Thor did tell me that his brother was adopted. And this is Earth, that's what we call it, not Midgard." He scrubbed a hand through his hair, feeling well out of his depth. "There are higher buildings in the city. Stark Tower, where the other you lives, is pretty much the tallest building I've ever seen. It's gotta be at least two hundred storeys. Look, can you maybe try to dial back the 'disgusting', and try to meet me halfway? You might even like it here if you give it a chance."

How could Steve have never met a Frost Giant? Even if they didn't rule here, there had to be some sort of relationship with them if there was a relationship with Asgard. Asgard might be the ruling body of the Nine Realms, but Jotunheim was powerful and more ally than vassal. The same could not be said for all of the Realms, but Jotunheim and Asgard had shared a storied history together, one that came to a head in a battle for Midgard that eventually led them to a deeper friendship once Asgard became aware of how badly Jotunheim needed to annex the little Realm and the ruling families of the Realms returned to the practice of fostering children of each other to teach culture and fealty to the next generation.

Anthony was silent for a long moment. He tried to study Steve, to see if there was a frailty behind his eyes as sometimes happened with humans. Medicine had progressed in some ways but human beings were also short lived, generally. Most of the people Anthony had grown up with in the Midgardian Years of the 1950s and 1960s had died two hundred years ago. Only the select few lived as long as he had. Or Steve had.

Most came and lived fully and happily and went again in the blink of an eye. His own father had just passed two decades ago when he made the choice to stop eating the Gift and move on to be with his wife in Hel. His son had already surpassed him and Midgard would be in good hands.

That was the human way.

"First of all, I know it's Earth. It's just easier to use the formal Realm name sometimes. And-- if I'm supposed to give your way of life a chance and understanding? You need to understand that I love my life. Meet me half way, Steve, but don't try to keep me here. Everyone I know and love is back home, same for Queen Loki. I have a family. I have friends. I'm not leaving them, so just-- Stop feeling sorry for me and I'll try to stop feeling sorry for you and your single two hundred story building city."

Odin's beard. One sky scraper. How did these people get by?

It wasn't just one single skyscraper. God above, how had Tony managed to maintain this level of annoying arrogance even when he was a server to someone else? Didn't slavery usually knock all that out of people? But he was almost like himself, apart from the creepy Stepford (and thanks for making him watch that, Tony) thing he had going on about Queen Loki and his position.

"Okay, alright."

He was willing to meet halfway here. He told himself it was Bucky again, on those days where he needed an order and was more Soldier than person, that it was just like when he gave gentle orders to help. Eat something. Sit on the couch. Get a wash. Get some sleep. Until the fog passed and the person came out again, and maybe that was what it would be here. He just needed time around free people to see what he was missing.

"Hey, Thor," Steve said into his earpiece, pretty sure that JARVIS would relay the message even if Thor didn't have his in. "Do you think you could come in here? There's some cultural differences I need a hand with."

He smiled at Tony, trying to make it soothing.

"We've got some pizza and Thai food on the way too, do you think you might like those better than the sandwich?"

"What. The Hel. Is pizza?"

Thor didn't take his time arriving when called, and Anthony actually appreciated that. It made sense for Steve's master to come to him. Their relationship was as deep as Loki's and his own. They were not friends, that would be presumptuous, but as Thor's personal slave, he was so much more. Steve would never understand that it was a two way street. He was beginning to see that now. And Anthony felt so badly for him. Not just because he lived like this but because he would never be aware of how good a life he could have had if this was a progressive world.

"Friend Rogers. What is it I may do to help?" Thor boomed, his body overshadowing the light from the ceiling. He looked ridiculous. Those muscles-- not even Odin had those muscles!

Anthony stood up immediately. Three hundred years of training wasn't going to come to an end overnight. "Prince Thor. If I was rude to you earlier, I apologize. It's just-- You look so different from the Princess I have known the last few centuries."

Wow.

Okay, their world was definitely a horrible dystopia if it didn't even have pizza, what kind of Earth would it be without pizza? Even Steve had enjoyed the odd slice back in the thirties and forties when Bucky had treated him to it at one of the fancy Italian places after he won a fight and got some money.

"Alright, Tony, why don't you sit down again? You don't have to call him Prince Thor, you can just call him Thor. Which, thanks for coming. Sit down. Tony's been telling me about how his world has been annexed by Jotunheim, does that mean anything to you?"

The couch sagged under Thor as he examined this younger version of Stark carefully. How could a human live for centuries? His mind frowned just as hard as his face did. "You do not need to address me as Prince, Stark. This is true, as Steve Rogers says."

Anthony looked confused. "Stark... Uh...? Is that another nickname? Like Tony?"

Thor caught on immediately. "Midgard has adopted the naming practices of Asgard? A fair model. Here, family name is passed on regardless of father or mother's name. Your counterpart is named Anthony Stark. His father and his father's father were also named Stark. And this is the same for most people upon this Realm."

Anthony wrinkled his nose. "Wow. That sounds confusing," he admitted, careful to take a seat again. He was on edge and couldn't help it. "But Jotunheim does it too. And Vanaheim, but they go by a matriarchal lineage... Same as Jotunheim will since Laufey-King only had daughters--"

Thor looked grim. "There was a war centuries ago. Asgard defeated the Jotnar. And...very recently, Jotunheim has been all but destroyed. There are very few that still are able to live upon there-- Stark, are you--"

Anthony looked horrified. "No. No....how could-- Asgard and Jotunheim are allies! What is this place?!"

"Okay, okay. We don't have to discuss the war. I guess things just worked out differently here, but there has to be some Jotuns, right? I mean, you said your brother was adopted, didn't you? So Loki was from Jotunheim originally?"

He knew that Loki was a bit of a sore subject with Thor, but it couldn't really be avoided in these circumstances. He couldn't help but privately wonder if all Lokis were insane dominating people who wanted to take over earth and crush humanity beneath their boots. Because it sure seemed that way.

"So, Tony... Anthony. Your name is Anthony Howardson, then? Is that right?"

Just trying to get the situation under a bit of control. Not helped when Bucky ghosted into the lounge on silent feet, bare now, wearing sweat pants and nothing else, metal arm catching the light brightly. His eyes focused in on Tony, brow furrowing slightly.

"You look younger."

"Buck," Steve said, voice soft. "This is Anthony, like me and Grant, you doing okay? Maybe head back to the garage, Tony might be done using Grant's small hands-- wait, pretend I said that differently."

Bucky ignored the suggestion in favour of coming closer to Tony, voice troubled. "You look a lot like Howard."

Thor wasn't going to get into it, but Rogers deserved an explanation. "Aye, Loki was adopted from the ruins of Jotunheim and raised as an Asgardian, as my brother, flesh and blood. We did not know until recently that he was not of Asgard. It had been a...sore subject."

Anthony was shocked at that too. But about Loki's natural born sisters? What about her mother, the Queen? Oh, he ha questions so he could report back to Loki, but he never managed to get there before Bucky appeared.

He took his time examining the body, the chest and the arm. The arm fascinated and repulsed him. We're these people still replacing limbs artificially? Why not just regrow them? He turned on the sofa, arm over the back, and found himself biting his lip. He was married, sure, but his work with Loki took him away from his family and-- Well, dalliance was not something that was minded much. He was sure his wife took lovers of her own and--

"Howardson, yes and hi there. I'm Anthony. You're... Flattering. Thanks. I'm... Actually I don't know how old I am. I started being given the Gift when I was twenty-one. I've celebrated three centennials since then." He was probably, physically, about twenty-five or six now. His aging had been slowed dramatically.

Tony but not Tony, very strange. Bucky stepped right up close, into his personal space, and reached out to touch his chest as if to make sure that he was real. He ignored Steve and Thor completely, although the tense set to his shoulders said that he would notice them if they actually made a move towards him.

"Does it make you stronger and faster too?"

Was this Gift like the serum? He was pretty sure that even he and Steve would be dead by the time three centuries had passed, but they definitely had slowed ageing and would live a hell of a lot longer than most people.

"Stand up, I want to look at you. You look so much like him, but he was older, a lot older. He's both in my head."

He didn't mean to be cryptic to poor Anthony, but he wasn't having the best evening inside his fractured head currently.

"Not really stronger or faster. I have my suits for that, if Queen Loki needs me to follow her into battle. I think that's only happened once. She's not like the Asgardian Princesses, she doesn't like to hunt as much as Thor or Baldur do," Anthony said as he stood up. "What's your name?"

The leather of his pants squeaked with the leather of the sofa, but he did stand up, and even moved round the edge of the sofa so that he and Bucky were standing near each other. Bucky was just a little bit taller but his eyes were so blue and perfect, his hair longer and lustrous, more like Asgardian men wore, but that wasn't unfashionable with those on Midgard. He looked strong too. It was just that arm--

Anthony didn't ask before he touched it. Or at least tried to. He was the personal slave of the Queen. He did what he wanted. That was another difficult thing to break him of.

"How do you dad? Like from the movies about him?" Anthony frowned. This man seemed...mentally off too. Was that a trait of this Midgard? "You know what? It doesn't matter. How about you? I can fix you. I just need a few things. J, can you take a list?"

Bucky took a half step back when Tony got to his feet and came around, but he didn't move completely out of range or lash out when those fingers came to rest on his metal arm. The plates shifted with a small electronic clicking noise as they realigned under his fingertips, but other than that he didn't move.

"Yes, sir, I am ready to task a list."

"Fix me?" Bucky said at the same time that JARVIS replied, finally breaking eye contact to look over at Steve as though checking he was there. He wasn't about to let someone take him off and zap his brain again to 'fix him'.

His hand balled into a fist, eyes flicking back to Tony. "I know him because--" He killed him, but he didn't want to admit that to another Tony, maybe because it wasn't his Howard that had been killed. "--he worked with me a long time ago."

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