Bucky Barnes | Victor of District 10 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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thecapitol2015-08-03 08:11 am
hollowvictor) wrote in thecapitol2015-08-03 08:11 am
Entry tags:
[Closed] Strike a match and I'll burn you to the ground
Who| Bucky Barnes (Panem), some unfortunate Capitolites, Bucky Barnes (MCU), Sam Wilson and Initiate later on
What| Bucky (Panem) is looking for answers, instead he's found by Bucky (MCU) and Sam
Where| A less popular blind spot in a noisy part of the Capitol
When| August 3rd, night time
Warnings/Notes| Violence, torture, not nice things
Lights that were too bright, laughter that was too shallow, whispered gossip, glitz and glamour that drowned every inch of the city, no place in Panem looked and felt like the Capitol did. Beautiful and hollow, like a gilded lie.
It was suffocating.
But he wasn't trying to breathe, or think, he was there to do. He'd wasted so much time not doing, he needed to catch up on years of it in the span of hours. He hid his motorbike in a back alley under an old blanket that no one would look twice at and pulled the hood of his coat low over his head. The fabric rich and the look muted, no one would even notice him passing through the crowds, the only good thing to come of the last Rural Reaper's outfit he owned. Just another eccentric nobody wandering the city's streets. He pulled out the piece of paper he'd scribbled down names and addresses on and gave it a quick pass over. He'd memorized them already, his plan lay like a complete puzzle in his mind, but he checked again to make sure. Everything had to run perfectly for this to succeed. He didn't need to survive, he simply needed to see this through. He stepped out into the street lights and could see the clock begin it's countdown on his plan. The ball was set in motion, there was no stopping now.
It was barely evening and his first stop was Peggy's apartment where he stopped long enough to drop the letter into her box. She'd get it later or in the morning and she'd find out what had happened to him one way or another. His next stop was easy, the target would be on his usual walk around the city right now, his social engagements over for the day and on his way to an empty home full of no one who would miss him except his pet muttation. He'd been a big name once and nothing but age and time and up and coming new faces had knocked him down to an honorary position. One that meant no one would miss him until it was too late. Bucky found him exactly where he ought to be: three blocks from his plush Capitolite apartment and just drunk enough to make this more easy than he'd initially planned. A quick yank into an alcove with Bucky's hand pinching his nose closed while his other hand clamped tight over his throat proved effective enough to knock the aging man out. He was shorter and soft from a pleasure-filled life, he didn't stand a chance.
The Capitol's Reaper snuck like a shadow through the back alleys of the city and into a blind spot few even knew about much less used. He tied and gagged the man, leaving him blindfolded and stuffed into a corner where the limited light couldn't reach him. Bucky would be back soon enough.
The next target was a little harder, he was younger, in his political prime and more likely to be missed. But today was his unlucky day, his schedule was nearly clear and his day over early. However, it was well known how much care and attention he gave his exotic plants and that was sure to be where he was this time of night, especially with his wife and daughter out at some event or another, they weren't a concern. With the right strings pulled and Hannah nice enough to point him in the direction he needed, finding the information necessary to carry out this plan had been easy. It was the uncontrollable factors that could screw it all up.
Bucky slipped into the target's house through a carelessly opened window and easily clocked his target on the head with something blunt and heavy he picked up on the way. A typed note he'd made before hand took care of any suspicion as to why he wasn't home and then he was back out of there with his 'prize' in record time. Capitolites were so easy: one surprise party to call you away and your life could easily be overlooked for a few precious hours. Once they were back to the blind spot, he tied and gagged the other man and arranged them to lean against a wall, completely at his mercy.
A small curved blade not unlike a smaller version of his sickle sword came out of the pocket it was tucked into and his empty hand smacked hard against both of their faces to rouse them. "Wake up." He didn't bother trying to mask his voice, he spoke tersely and with a dangerous edge in his voice and they were too far removed from the tributes to know it instantly. The moment he thought they were awake enough, he knelt between them, a gun pressed to the temple of one and the knife held to the other's throat.
"You two have information I need, so we're gonna have a little talk." He pressed the muzzle of the gun harder against the younger politician's temple and pulled the trigger, a quiet click the only answer to the man's obvious flinch. "That was the only empty round, so I suggest you listen to unless you want to find out of I'm lying or not. If your friend here plays along, nothing bad's gonna happen to you, so keep your trap shut. And you-" He pressed the blade to the older man's loosening skin, slicing into it a little. "-you better start talking. What can you tell me about Steve Rogers of District 10?"
What| Bucky (Panem) is looking for answers, instead he's found by Bucky (MCU) and Sam
Where| A less popular blind spot in a noisy part of the Capitol
When| August 3rd, night time
Warnings/Notes| Violence, torture, not nice things
Lights that were too bright, laughter that was too shallow, whispered gossip, glitz and glamour that drowned every inch of the city, no place in Panem looked and felt like the Capitol did. Beautiful and hollow, like a gilded lie.
It was suffocating.
But he wasn't trying to breathe, or think, he was there to do. He'd wasted so much time not doing, he needed to catch up on years of it in the span of hours. He hid his motorbike in a back alley under an old blanket that no one would look twice at and pulled the hood of his coat low over his head. The fabric rich and the look muted, no one would even notice him passing through the crowds, the only good thing to come of the last Rural Reaper's outfit he owned. Just another eccentric nobody wandering the city's streets. He pulled out the piece of paper he'd scribbled down names and addresses on and gave it a quick pass over. He'd memorized them already, his plan lay like a complete puzzle in his mind, but he checked again to make sure. Everything had to run perfectly for this to succeed. He didn't need to survive, he simply needed to see this through. He stepped out into the street lights and could see the clock begin it's countdown on his plan. The ball was set in motion, there was no stopping now.
It was barely evening and his first stop was Peggy's apartment where he stopped long enough to drop the letter into her box. She'd get it later or in the morning and she'd find out what had happened to him one way or another. His next stop was easy, the target would be on his usual walk around the city right now, his social engagements over for the day and on his way to an empty home full of no one who would miss him except his pet muttation. He'd been a big name once and nothing but age and time and up and coming new faces had knocked him down to an honorary position. One that meant no one would miss him until it was too late. Bucky found him exactly where he ought to be: three blocks from his plush Capitolite apartment and just drunk enough to make this more easy than he'd initially planned. A quick yank into an alcove with Bucky's hand pinching his nose closed while his other hand clamped tight over his throat proved effective enough to knock the aging man out. He was shorter and soft from a pleasure-filled life, he didn't stand a chance.
The Capitol's Reaper snuck like a shadow through the back alleys of the city and into a blind spot few even knew about much less used. He tied and gagged the man, leaving him blindfolded and stuffed into a corner where the limited light couldn't reach him. Bucky would be back soon enough.
The next target was a little harder, he was younger, in his political prime and more likely to be missed. But today was his unlucky day, his schedule was nearly clear and his day over early. However, it was well known how much care and attention he gave his exotic plants and that was sure to be where he was this time of night, especially with his wife and daughter out at some event or another, they weren't a concern. With the right strings pulled and Hannah nice enough to point him in the direction he needed, finding the information necessary to carry out this plan had been easy. It was the uncontrollable factors that could screw it all up.
Bucky slipped into the target's house through a carelessly opened window and easily clocked his target on the head with something blunt and heavy he picked up on the way. A typed note he'd made before hand took care of any suspicion as to why he wasn't home and then he was back out of there with his 'prize' in record time. Capitolites were so easy: one surprise party to call you away and your life could easily be overlooked for a few precious hours. Once they were back to the blind spot, he tied and gagged the other man and arranged them to lean against a wall, completely at his mercy.
A small curved blade not unlike a smaller version of his sickle sword came out of the pocket it was tucked into and his empty hand smacked hard against both of their faces to rouse them. "Wake up." He didn't bother trying to mask his voice, he spoke tersely and with a dangerous edge in his voice and they were too far removed from the tributes to know it instantly. The moment he thought they were awake enough, he knelt between them, a gun pressed to the temple of one and the knife held to the other's throat.
"You two have information I need, so we're gonna have a little talk." He pressed the muzzle of the gun harder against the younger politician's temple and pulled the trigger, a quiet click the only answer to the man's obvious flinch. "That was the only empty round, so I suggest you listen to unless you want to find out of I'm lying or not. If your friend here plays along, nothing bad's gonna happen to you, so keep your trap shut. And you-" He pressed the blade to the older man's loosening skin, slicing into it a little. "-you better start talking. What can you tell me about Steve Rogers of District 10?"
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He doesn't bother looking at the Capitolite shouting at him. Whatever the guy thinks, Sam isn't here for him, and he isn't willing to look away from Bucky long enough to give the guy any attention.
Sam lowers his hands as soon as Bucky sees that it's him, stepping into the blind spot enough that he can't seen from around the alley, but not getting too close. He doesn't believe that Bucky'd hurt him, but that's not what he's worried about right now.
"Okay. Say I do, say we leave and you shoot him. What's going to happen after that?"
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"Fuck." he mutters, quiet, following the thread of emotion he feels at the scene... irritated.
A gun. He's using a gun, without a suppressor, in a populated area -- loud enough that Sam and he overheard it. It's sloppy. His fingers twitch because the other him even has a knife he could use to slit his targets throat; he could strangle him, snap his neck, any other number of quieter ways that would give him chance to stow the bodies away and lower his risk of detection by Peacekeeper forces. The longer he waited and gave the man on the floor time to yell the more chance of unfriendly discovery.
There are many days where Bucky wishes he could stop thinking like an assassin.
If the... he wrangled with his thoughts for a moment on how to refer to the guy, then just goes with 'guy' for now, was distracted by Sam there was a chance he could get close enough to disarm him. The prospect of shooting a man with his own face might also cause him to hesitate.
He takes a step to the side, slowly forward, head moving like he's looking out for danger from other directions than the guy in front of him. Let Sam talk and take the brunt of his attention.
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He gives Sam a small and slightly bitter smile. "Honestly? I don't know. I'll probably try to get back to my escape route and then back to 13, but I could also be discovered by Peacekeepers or even someone with a really good memory and that'd be it. I'd tell you not to watch the news this week cause it'll probably feature my execution in the streets." It's in his eyes how that possibility does bother him, but not anywhere else. The rest of his expression is that of a soldier accepting his fate in his suicide run.
He didn't want to get caught, if he did he would have exposed his face, not bothered wearing gloves, chosen something noticeable to wear or even public assassination if he could pull it off. He was starting to get Peggy back and he still had Hannah and Sam as the first friends he'd allowed himself to make in years. There was plenty to live for, but if he was to be caught and killed, it just made sense it should be while he was finally closing the door on an eight-year-long chapter he started in the first place.
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He takes another step into the alley, arms spread wide and palms up in a hold on - more for the Bucky from his world's benefit than the one from 13. Give him a minute, man, let him try this first.
That expression worries him just a little. He's seen one like it too many times - hell, he's seen it looking in the mirror. But Sam's eyes are still on Bucky's, and he can read that, too. "You giving up on me, Buck?" he asks quietly, letting the question sit for a brief moment before he raises his voice back up to normal conversation level.
"You really think I'm gonna leave you alone here with that sad ass plan? Come on, man. Put the gun down, let's get out of here."
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He stayed still, both out of respect for Sam and what he was trying to do as well continuing not to draw attention to himself.
It was hard, and he bit down on the inside of his cheek to stay quiet, because he really wanted to ask.
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He was giving up, he'd just said as much in accepting he might have his brain splattered across the Capitol's mainstreet soon. If that happened, it wouldn't just be Sam who'd have to watch, it'd be Peggy and Hannah. It'd be Rachel and Sarah and Becca and his mother, all of whom still thought he didn't love them enough to keep living, they'd find out he hadn't killed himself only to watch him die for real on District 10's big screen. The gun fell a little from it's aim on the collapsed man.
"I don't know where you think we could go, but if I don't kill him, he'll be able to identify you and James and you'll both be punished for being 'accomplices.' Besides, once he's no longer panicked, he might even realize who it was who threatened him and bring awareness to 13 and I can't let any of those hings happen. Why should I spare his life?" He finally looked over at his double. "Is this man's life more important than Sam's or your own?"
He could feel his resolve crumbling, especially as the adrenaline fled his system and the tension fell, but he had to know what exactly it was they thought was a better option. From where he stood, there was only one.
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Something in his chest loosens a little when Bucky drops his aim a bit, but Sam knows they aren't out of the woods here yet.
In more ways than one, but he's going to focus on making sure Bucky isn't going to kill anyone first.
"Killing him isn't gonna stop any of that. Maybe there's no cameras here, but there's ones close by, and as soon as they find two bodies, they're gonna look. They're gonna see you dragging these two in here and us coming in after you."
Sam has a response for that other question, too, about one life being more important than another - but it's not his question to answer, so he keeps his mouth shut, and his gaze darts over to Bucky.
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His gaze slides down to the men on the ground; one breathing, one not. His eyes run over the damage already dealt, marking what he can see and guessing at what he can't. There's something about this, something personal.
No, he thinks, these men's lives aren't worth Sam's, probably not his either. Bucky loathes the Capitol and it's people for how they look at the Tribute's, how they use their pain and suffering for their games. Maybe the ordinary people aren't to blame, being lead around by ignorance and gross conditioning, but the higher ups...
He narrows his eyes. There's pieces missing. "What did he do?"
The answer probably won't change his mind from the option he's already leaning towards but at least if he knows the answer he'll be making the informed decision. He won't be condemning just anyone to die without knowing if they deserve it or not. Not that he thinks he has a right to decide who should live or die but... he's not a mindless killer anymore, he's not.
"Shooting him would be stupid though." he can't help but add, "You don't even have a suppressor on that gun."
Was that purposeful? Did this other self not actually want to walk away from this?
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But it didn't matter now, he'd grabbed what he could grab without being caught or stopped and now there was no taking it back. But that part didn't matter to him near as much as the question James had asked.
He gestured to the dead man on the ground. "Cicero Porcius, once a prominent politician, now washed up and clinging to what he had. Well, no, not anymore. But he was in charge of transporting Capitol prisoners long before any of you showed up, the job moved to someone else about the time the quarter quell started." His gun fell back to pointing at the man at his feet. "And this is Vitus Albinair, these days he's brushing elbows with the big leagues and working his way into a position that will surely lead to the Capitol's continued reign, but eight years ago he was responsible for overseeing the avoxing process. Oh, he never got his hands dirty, but he watched and ensured the whole thing ran smoothly and the results were 'acceptable.'"
The image of watching the man at his feet watch as Stevie was tortured over and over, kept alive through Capitol medicine and technology that should have been used to save him, not torment him. Albinair had sat back and watched as the most unbreakable spirit Bucky knew was shattered into too many pieces to pick up. His finger tightened over the trigger, but didn't pull it.
"They didn't give the order, if I could have Snow at my feet right now, you can bet I'd have emptied the damn gun into his head, but they carried it out. Because of them, Steve Rogers is dead. I went through their hell to save him and they stole him from us anyway." Maybe he should have died in the arena after all, despite what his dream of Steve had said, but it didn't matter now. Just like the gun, he couldn't change it or take it back.
"They avoxed him and then tried to turn him into your Steve, but it didn't work and now he's gone forever." His anger is still a crackle in the air, the static before a boom of thunder, but there's a resignation in his tone when he speaks next. "It won't bring him back, I'm not that stupid, but it's better than letting them walk away."
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The danger they're in right now is more because of Bucky's actions, and the ripple effect that they're going to have. And, well, Sam not being able to leave shit alone.
This is revenge killing, and that's where the line gets fuzzy. That's where Sam has to be real damn careful not to be a gigantic hypocrite, the way he felt after Riley, after Albert and Kurloz and Steve and Jet. Shit, the way he feels right now, even though it wasn't his Steve - there's a big part of him that wants to say fuck it, kill the bastard.
The only reason he doesn't is because of Bucky, because he knows killing the guy in cold blood like this is probably going to do Bucky more hurt than it will good.
"And then what? You gonna hunt down the people that did get their hands dirty, find everyone involved in it and kill them, too? Let it take over your whole life? Cause it ain't gonna end, Buck, believe me. I know." He knows, he remembers staring down the guy who'd been the reason Riley was dead - their last mission, not the guy who fired the RPG, but Sam could've killed every one of that faction and never known who did.
"You kill him now and you might as well be giving up."
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Bucky shuts up though when the other gives his explanation and maybe there might have been a chance of him playing along with Sam throughout this meeting, a chance he'd play it his way; that chance is ruined as soon as the name 'Steve Rogers' passes the kids lips. His posture changes, freezes, as he stares at the still breathing man on the floor.
Not his Steve, no, but a man enough like him to make Bucky dangerously empathise with the doppelgänger in front of him.
He thinks about his Steve in that place and a time only so recently when Bucky had thought his death to be real and true, right before Steve revealed himself to be alive and well in District 13. He thinks of a man like him, still small and skinny but with all the same gumption, the man that the Peggy of this world had told him about with such heartbreak in her voice.
If looks could kill Vitus Albinair would be dead already.
"If he walks he finds the nearest Peacekeeper and tells him about all of this." Bucky says to Sam, not taking his eyes off the Capitolite.
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But it didn't matter if this was as far as he'd go or if the last person responsible for Steve would be as far as he'd go, (Wouldn't that be himself?) this was already a bad road to be on, he knew that much. Really, as far as Bucky was concerned, both his other and Sam were right.
He didn't want Sam to think he was giving up, even if that wasn't what it felt like, they'd basically promised that wouldn't happen. But this man didn't deserve to keep living. Then again, who was he to decide that? He already had with one of them, did he really have a right to do it with this piece of crap too? Maybe he didn't deserve to keep living, but it wasn't Bucky's call to end him either.
'The living have it wrong, Reapers don't cause death, they help those destined to die move on.' Hannah's words echoed in his head. He pocketed his gun and knelt down, ensuring the gag and blindfold were back in place along with the binds on Albnair's wrists and ankles.
"A peacekeeper will find them eventually, either way. Maybe, if he's lucky, he'll bleed out before they find him and find out he gave away information to rebels."
He stood and looked between the two, expression once again impassive. "You can't stay here, they'll torture or kill you, you have no choice but to come back to 13 with me." This wasn't something to be argued, it was there in his tone, this was an order.
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But Sam's seen too many people who said 'just this one and that's it, then I'm done, then it'll be over, then I can move on' and it was never true. And maybe Sam's being a little bit selfish here, trying to get Bucky not to let himself play judge and executioner, because Sam's too scared to take that risk.
To watch Bucky kill this guy, whether he deserves it or not, and hope that it isn't going to lead him down a path he's seen too many people go.
At the word 'peacekeeper,' Sam's eyes flick up towards the end of the alley, where Kate's perched, but she's still just sitting there, alert, so he looks back over at Bucky.
"And if he dies, they know he's missing and they check their cameras and find out what happened anyway, that doesn't matter."
Honestly, he doesn't know how to feel when Bucky puts the gun away. He doesn't have a lot of time to figure out before Bucky starts talking again, and Sam - doesn't know how to react to that, either.
It's stupid to say no, to say that he'll stay here and stall for time while they both get out - he knows the Bucky from his world wouldn't go for it, and he isn't sure the Bucky from this world would, either. But more than that, he isn't even sure how much time he could buy, if it would matter.
"Not without Initiate," he says instead, before he even thinks about it. "He's part of the reason 13's still standing and he got Avoxed for it, I'm not leaving him here. I made him a promise."
He made the same one to Clint, but Sam has less options there. Clint's a big boy; he can make the choice for himself, even if Sam doesn't like it. Kurloz can't, not anymore.
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The other him puts the gun away, so at least they're safe for now from a gunshot summoning the enemy down upon them.
"What?" he blinks, stilling as he looks first at the kid, James -- James is safe, and then at Sam. Leave the Capitol? Go to District 13 now?
When the chance came he'd always thought he'd be ready and willing without regret, Steve is in 13 after all, but he's shocked to find he's not. Instead his thoughts flash to everyone else, to all the friends that it would mean leaving behind at the Capitol's mercy still. A number of people Bucky cares for have already made it to the lost district but not all. Aang, he thinks, Clint, Tony...
James might be right in that they don't have a choice but it won't make things any easier.
"We'd have to go back to the Tower," Bucky says to Sam, a little incredulous but not against him. He has a point and Initiate is Bucky's friend too. "That's risky." but at the same time he thinks maybe not impossible, not if they move fast.
Bucky knows where the Avox quarters are.
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"You have twenty minutes to do what you're going to do and get to the alleyway behind the speakeasy, got it? Don't be late."
He wasn't sure about the Initiate, he knew what the Capitol had said, but he also knew the Capitol was full of shit. That being said, The Initiate's power was not, their inside sources had told them as much and the thought of what that power could do...well, the chips were still in place and thy hadn't cracked the code on that yet, maybe by the time they did, the troll or whatever he was would have a higher opinion of the people rescuing and helping him.
It was an angle he could try and use to sell this whole thing to President Coin when they inevitably got back and she ripped his face off for it.
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He doesn't think he has to tell Bucky that, not really, but he's gearing up in case he has to convince the Bucky who didn't know Kurloz. So it's a relief when Bucky gives them twenty minutes - it's not a lot, but they can do it.
Sam looks up at Kate, tilting his head at her until she swoops down to land on his outstretched arm. He fumbles in his pocket, pulling out a scrap of paper and scribbling a series of dots and dashes onto it before tucking it into a bag around her talon. "Go back home, okay Katie Kate?" he murmurs to her, stroking a hand over her back as he pushes his arm up and she launches off. He hates watching her go, but he can't bring her to 13.
Then he glances back up at Bucky, the one from his world.
"We got enough time to swing by and grab what we've been holding onto for Steve?"
Everything else Sam'd want he already has in the bag he carries with him, thanks to Terezi.
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Realistically it might be easier for him to get the Initiate but Bucky thinks he'll probably respond better to Sam - which is something of an excuse for him to be able to be the one who gets Steve's shield back.
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But if this is what Bucky wants, Sam's not going to try to take it from him. Bucky's had enough of that over the years, and Sam can handle not being the one to bring Steve his shield.
"Point me in the right way, then, and I'll meet you at the Speakeasy. Just-" There's a pause, then he adds, "If you run into Clint, will you think about grabbing him?"
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The request catches him by surprise and he glances behind them, almost as if the other version of himself is watching before looking back at Sam. "Of course I will."
If they had time there'd be a few other people he'd try to grab besides.
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So he just listens to Bucky’s directions as they walk, committing it to memory and already trying to figure out how the hell he’s going to get Kurloz out of there short of just swinging Kurloz over his shoulders and carrying him out.
He ducks his head a little at Bucky’s surprise, and he hopes he doesn’t ask, because he doesn’t want to explain himself, either. “Thanks.”
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They reach the Tribute Tower, and Bucky spares a moment to reach over and squeeze Sam's shoulder before they part ways on their separate missions. It's reassurance, it's a promise that he'll be back here when Sam is to make their escape.
Then he goes for the elevator to head up to the hiding place of Steve's shield and Thor's hammer.