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Til the End of the Line; Bucky
Topic Started: Sep 25 2014, 09:55 PM (286 Views)
Spitfire
Member Avatar
Superspeed with Pyrotechnic Effects
Date: April 11th
Time: 10am




Fidgeting, Jac stood in the corridor, just a few feet away from the elevator that would take her down to where the creepy psionic operatives of SHIELD lurked. The speedster was used to telepaths, people inside her head, but that did not mean that she liked it. If anything, the thought terrified her, even embarrassed her at the potential thought of what they might see inside her head. It wasn’t as if she hid her emotions anyway, well, some of them. Looking around, the young woman lowered her head and stared at the toes of her SHIELD issued sneakers, poking out of the bottom of her SHIELD issued track pants. The look was finished with a similarly nondescript uniform top that was just a little too big, the baggy sleeves hiding her most recent scar as well as a few of the old ones.

Inhaling a soft breath, Jacqueline checked the time once again. Maybe he hadn’t gotten the message. Although, she couldn’t blame him for that. Note passing belonged back in school. But being at the Flatiron was about her least favourite thing ever now, especially now. Irregardless of the rights and wrongs, she felt out of place and more than that, needed somewhere a little more ordered, which was what staying on the Helicarrier could offer her. It wouldn’t be forever though.

Five more minutes...


"Keep fidgeting like that and you're like to wear a hole right through the deck," came a voice at her side. As usual, sometime between her last look around, and the split second of a blink, he was there. Bucky had spent too many years as a ghost to be anything but, even now. He took in how she was dressed, and he was not in much snazzier a wardrobe. Jeans, a t-shirt that didn't quite hide his physique but didn't emphasize it either, and a windbreaker with a discrete slit down the interior seam of the left arm to allow a metal arm to be concealed beneath the dusty grey material.

Leaning against the wall, casually, Bucky didn't look as drawn and worried as he had the last time they were here. He had grown his hair out slightly from the close crop of Greenville, but it was nowhere near the long unkempt mop of the mindless Soldier. He looked... well, he looked like he wanted to look, and that was something new to him. Any worry in his face was not worry for him.

"When we're out of here, want to get a drink?" he asked, "I'm thinking Starbucks. There's a caramel thing I was told I would like, but we can get something stronger if you're feeling like that might be better."


Turning around to see him there, it was hard to keep her heart from skipping over a beat and the relieved expression that had no doubt flooded over her slim face at not just seeing him there, but seeing him looking as he did. “I was seeing if making a hole would make the process quicker,” she decided to meet like with like so it wouldn’t be any weirder or harder than it would be otherwise. “Cut out all that silly yellow line nonsense.”

It was good to see him looking so well, considering the circumstances. “Starbucks sounds nice. They have good cake,” nodding her blonde head, she stepped away from the wall and managed a smile, nervous as it was. “Well, I suppose I’d best be on time for them...C’mon, Tik-Tok,” walking to the doors she wondered if he would remember the name from the last time they had been there. The elevator doors silently glided open then closed after them and it began its descent.

Closing her eyes, her hands balled into fists. “Don’t suppose you have something stronger now?”


He smiled at the nickname, knowing that she was putting on a brave front because that was who she was, but also knowing that she was terrified. What they had been through was hard enough, but that at least had been forced on them by the enemy. To do this voluntarily, for the good of the team, for the good of the world... it took a lot of courage.

She asked if he had something stronger, and Bucky reached over and put his hand on her shoulder, his flesh hand so that she would understand and he would feel, and he spoke quietly, but firmly. "There is something stronger. You."


The elevator touched down, the doors opening up. Jac swallowed. “You won’t be saying that when I throw up on your shoes.”

“Proceed towards the reception desk. Follow the yellow line on the deck. Do not deviate from the yellow line.”

“Nice to see some things don’t change,” reaching up, she touched his hand, trailing her fingers away so she could walk down the corridor, along the familiar line and towards the desk with the same, doll-like guard on duty. Part of her had to wonder if it was real or a psychic diorama, laid out for show. It ebbed and flowed as it had before, seemingly endless.


Bucky chuckled to himself. There was tension between the two of them, mostly elevated because it was who they were, a pair of broken and misused soldiers fighting an endless war for causes that changed as often as their allegiances did. But in the end, no matter the pain, no matter the struggle, they were a matched set.

"You think vomit is the worst thing I ever had on my shoes?" he asked her, "1943, a few months after Steve rescued me, we took down a HYDRA lab where that creep Zola had been experimenting with what we all thought was some sort of pill to induce regeneration in injuries. Turned out it was radiated flatworm eggs, and the nasty things swelled inside the 'volunteers'' bodies. Came bursting out of their stomachs the size of German shepherds, spraying slime and guck all over us. I think I emptied my entire magazine into those things even after they were dead and reloaded just to make sure. My uniform stank like the inside of a bait bucket left in a coal shed in August." He shrugged, "Vomit? Pfft, no big deal."


Pulling a face, Jac laughed despite herself, her fears and the grim situation. “I’ll remind you of that if you ever complain, then,” the speedster promised, wondering what he was going to see from her soon, but with Bucky distracting her, they had made it almost the entire length of the corridor, the desk now in view.

“Do you think you’ll have to take your arm off again? I hope I don’t have to take my shoes off. The whole high velocity kick and that...” her words were an attempt at humour. “Seriously though, you don’t even have a shot of vodka hidden in your arm or something?”


"My arm is not a liquor cabinet," Bucky said, with humor, but stilted as they were approaching the desk, the optical illusions of the Psicorp, as usual, making the walk take forever. "You're going to be ok, Jac, I promise. I always keep my promises."

::Agents, bay seven is waiting,:: came the voice that they had heard the last time they were here.

"Hey, it's you," Bucky said, not happy about the reunion, but familiarity did offer a small comfort. "You just assigned to us?"

::This is a composite voice:: came the answer, ::A blend of the psicops operatives in order to protect our civilian identities.::

"Ah," the Soldier said, "Lot of people want to punch you in the face when they get out of here. Believe me, I get it."

There was a pause and then, "I imagine you do, Agent Barnes, I imagine you do."


“Great, if I knew this was show and tell for the class I’d have put my best dress on,” Jac rolled her eyes, hitching up her shoulders and turning to where the light was showing above their allotted bay.

::The sentiment is appreciated, Agent Falsworth. Please make yourself comfortable within the bay so we can commence.::

Hesitating in the doorway, the memory of the last time they had been there was strong in her minds eye and she slowly approached the bed. About to lie on it, she was back in Hyde’s lab, strapped down and about to have her mind turned inside out. Drained of colour, she looked over her shoulder to Bucky. “Til the end of the line?”

Rather gracelessly, she boosted herself up on to the reclining bed that was more like a chair, body tense as she sat back and closed her eyes.

::Just like falling asleep, Agent Falsworth…::


"And beyond, Partner," Bucky said, as he took his position, and he looked up at the ceiling, "No toying with her. Do it and get it done. Ok? No games."


One moment they were in the little room, then just as when they had been there for Bucky, the scene seemed to shift around them. Blinking, Jac found herself sat on an old bench, under a line of trees...oak, sycamore, chestnut... The garden spread out before her, the rose bushes, the apple trees…

“Why are we here…” Jac felt her queasiness spike up again. Embarrassed.

::We are making sure you are intact. To do so, we have to go all the way back, to what makes you you, Agent Falsworth.::

Thinking of some unpleasant cusses, her blue eyes roamed and she allowed herself to focus on the wrought iron table and chairs set ahead of them. Behind it, the red bricked house slumped sleepily in summer heat, the French doors flung open to allow the house to air. But that house, for all she knew it so well, was not what was important. Seated at the table was a man, old yet still strong. He was writing, papers and pens spread out neatly before him, keeping half an eye on the little blonde girl who was playing nearby in a world all of her own.

Quietly, Jac watched the four year old version of herself, clad in a yellow dress with green hat and cape, as she twirled around, singing something that might have been ‘Star Spangled Man’ if it had indeed been written by a four year old. From one hand dangled a teddy bear who wore a red suit.

“ToroBear,” she muttered, half to Bucky and half to herself, but there was a small smile on her face. “I took that thing everywhere until I had to go to school and wasn’t allowed to anymore. I loved that Golden Girl costume almost as much...God, I don’t even know what happened to it.”


He tried not to smile, and to stay serious, but it was just too damn cute not to grin, "Oh, I am never going to get this image out of my head," Bucky told her. He glanced over at the old man, and said, "Is that who I think it is?" His voice slipped into neutral, because the emotions were far more than he was willing to reveal here. He didn't even know how to classify them for himself.


::Agreed, Agent. Most adorable.::

Great,” she sighed dramatically, but she was smiling all the same, but the expression faded a little as Bucky asked his question and she noticed the tone of his voice. “Yeah. That’s my Grandfather. He liked to be surrounded by family…” trailing off, she waited for the scene to unfold, starting to remember just before it happened in front of their eyes.

Montgomery Falsworth checked his watch and looked over his shoulder to the girl, extending one hand to coax her closer. “Jacqueline, don’t you have to go to ballet soon?”

Jac pulled a face in time with her infant self and the little version of herself stopped her routine on one foot, hopping around to face her Grandfather, before defiantly tossing her head back and announcing “No!”

“No?” Monty raised an eyebrow, trying to hide his amusement. “But your mother told me expressly.”

“Well. But I don’t want to.”

“And why is that?” Monty seemed more amused than anything else, propping his arm on the back of the chair and leaning down.

Jacqueline watched herself grin and run over, looping little arms through the arm of her chair and tossing ToroBear into her Grandfather’s lap. “Because it’s stupid and I don’t like it and I want to be a howing commanbow instead. Ballet is for girls.”

The older Jac put her head in her hands, flame red.

Laughing, he pulled her up into his lap and kissed her forehead. “I’m afraid my dearest, you are a girl. But lots of boys like to dance too, you know. Which means it is quite alright if you want to be a soldier. You will have to be very brave though, and learn to do what you’re told. Do you think you can do that?”

“I’m BRAVE!” Jacqueline roared like a little lioness and squirmed, fighting to get down to the ground to demonstrate her ferocity in battle.

“But can you do what you’re told?”

Jac stopped squirming and looked unsure. “Yes?”

“So, you’ll go to ballet?”

Her face fell and she looked down. “I don’t like it…” she mumbled, clutching ToroBear to her chest tightly. “The girls are mean. They don’t like me.”

“A brave girl wouldn’t care.”

Sighing, she twisted one of Toro’s arms about. “Well I wasn’t but then I got told off cause I punched Claire cause she was horrid.”

Monty’s eyes went heavenward for a moment. “I’ll talk to your mother.”

“Talk to me about what?” Jac’s mother came out of the open doors, holding a light purple backpack in one hand. “Oh, Jacqueline why aren’t you dressed properly? Go and get out of that costume now.”

Scrunching her little face up, the girl jumped down and stared balefully at her mother for asking such a thing and she was off, tearing into the house on a pair of small legs that seemed to move at an ungodly speed.

“Monty...I wish you wouldn’t encourage her…” Jac’s mother approached the table, leaning against one of the chairs. “She loves you to bits. But she’s so young…”

The memory seemed to change somehow, as if the two adults were suddenly underwater. She had been told about this conversation, but she had never seen it.

“I don’t encourage her to be anything other than independent. I don’t want her to think that just because she is a young woman, that she can’t do things. Some of the woman I served with were just as capable, if not more so than us men.”

“I know, I - oh for goodness sake…” Katherine put a hand up to her forehead as a blare of music started from indoors and an old 40s tune started to play out. Turning around, she went back into the house, the shouting muffled by… Frowning as she watched this play out, Jac had no idea how it was things had stayed from this side and she had not followed herself into the house. The moment of confusion lasted only seconds, as there then came a terrific crash and Jac saw herself run back out of the house at high speed, a fierce look on her small face, ToroBear hanging from one of her hands by a leg. Scrambling under the table, she gave a huge sigh.

“I fell off the chair getting a cup of water and the jug broke. Sorry,” she said from under the table, as Monty looked under to inspect the situation, his expression of annoyance softening when he saw that her chin was bleeding. Reaching under the table, he gathered her up in his arms and tweaked her nose. “I think you need a nap far more than you need a ballet class. But will you go next week and try? It would make your Mummy happy if you tried.”

Realising this was the best option, she wrapped her small arms about his neck. “Okay. If I have to.”


"Monty championed the girls," Bucky murmured, "We all did, really, because well... Peggy... after seeing what Peggy could do, that sort of drove out our 'protect the women' mindsets, but your grandpa, he always believed in handing the ladies a gun if they wanted one." He nodded to himself, "I'm glad you had him. Damn good man. Damn good."


Watching her younger self with her Grandfather as he hugged her and cleaned up her chin, she found her bottom lip wobbling slightly. “I miss him. I know I can’t go back, but if I could, to anywhere, it would be to here. He was the best. But he’d learned with the best.” Silently, she shuffled closed to Bucky while the memory faded out into a childish haze of warm afternoons and colours.


::Do not touch Agent Falsworth,:: the psychic voice of her examiner said, ::It is not allowed during the memory scan.::

Bucky looked at his hand that had raised to give Jac's shoulder a squeeze and narrowing his eyes, he instead slipped his whole arm around her. "Don't really care what's allowed and what's not," he said.

::Uncooperation is noted,:: the psicorps agent said, ::Proceeding with memory scan.::


Laughing as they were scolded like naughty children, she began to wonder why she had been so afraid of seeing him after Greenville. There was the whole Natalia aspect of the situation, but as much as she was afraid of her feelings, they had a connection, no matter what.

::Do not allow your mind to wander, Agent Falsworth. We wouldn’t want you losing your functions now, if a mistake were to be made, now would we?::

This made her laugh even harder, but after the burst of mirth was out, the speedster began to behave herself, concentrating. The garden had gone, but more images flashed in front of them. Jacqueline watched herself grow up fast. Attending primary school, learning how to read and write, going on trips, playing with her brother. Bike rides. Picnics. Sports days. Then she was leaving primary school and moving up to secondary school. Struggling to fit in. Joining the local air cadets. Meeting Joey. All of the memories swirled on like a river, coming back to the common point of spending time with her Grandfather, learning from him, learning from her own father.


Bucky was probably most surprised to see Brian, though he knew that he was bound to. He hadn't seen the other Falsworth since he'd been freed from Hyde's control. Debriefing and deprogramming took time. His eyes never left Jac's memories though. It was to help them both. They both needed to understand.


Soon, the flow of memories slowed down and Jac found herself stood in her old bedroom, staring at herself, leaning over her desk. She must have been fourteen, before her powers had fully manifested. It was cadets night, clearly, because she was wearing the blue uniform and her hair was all up, military style. But the uniform hung a little loose on her spindly little limbs. Before her powers had straightened out, she had been losing weight, but with a ferocious hunger that had seen her eat and eat without adding a pound.

Glancing around, the room was cosy, but WW2 memorabilia sat oddly next to the clutter of a somewhat average teenaged girl. Stepping a little closer, Jac saw that she was finishing off her big history report, the one she had poured everything into and even spent pocket money on making it look fancy. Of course… That must mean…

“Jacqueline? Can I come in?”

“Yeah, I’m almost done…” her eyes stayed on the mountain of work that she was fitting together, not looking up until her Grandfather had entered the room and had walked right up to her desk. Looking up, her pale face broke into a huge grin and jumping up to a standing position, the teenager reached out and hugged him around the middle. “I already finished my Hero piece for English though. Do you want to see it?”

Putting an arm around the back of her skinny shoulders, he patted her on the hair. Montgomery looked older now, and a little tired. It was ten years since the day in the garden and it was evident. But he still did not look weak or frail. Old, but not withered. “Of course.”

Moving the ring binder to one side, she shuffled some papers away and lifted up a large, heavy, black card. On it was a photograph of Captain America, surrounded by several small white cards, on which was printed Jacqueline’s own definition of a hero, and why Captain America met these.

“I’m not going to get any higher than a B on it though,” she sulked, chewing her lower lip.

“Why not?” Monty frowned, the expression breaking the look of pride.

“Because I was only supposed to do one hero. But everyone in the class was doing someone like David Beckham or ugh, I don’t know, Britney Spears. Stupid things. So,” hanging the piece from a pin stuck out of the wall above her desk, Jac pulled on a number of small tabs to reveal members of the Howling Commandos, Invaders and…

Glancing over at Bucky, Jac went a bit red as her younger self revealed a card dedicated to himself. “See? I…” Jac went redder and trailed off, gnawing on her lower lip. “God, this makes me look so creepy, doesn’t it.”

::Just a little, Agent. Just a little.::


Looking at the card that spoke about his heroism, Bucky's eyes went dark and he said, quietly, "Jesus, I must've been one hell of a disappointment to you, Jac, once you saw what I was..." He wished he could have read what was on the card, though, wished he could see what she had thought he was. Maybe then he could try to be that thing again.


“No, you weren’t. You were lost, that’s all. And nobody else seemed to want to listen. I was disappointed in them. Never you.”


"Thanks, partner," Bucky said.

::May we continue?:: droned the psicorps agent ::These constant interruptions are not conducive to proper memory scanning.::

"Stuff it, Spooky," Bucky said, "We're sharing a moment."


Laughing as they were scolded again, she looked at Bucky with a smirk on her features. “Think they’ll kick us out if we do it again?”

::Or simply make you think you are a sloth, Agent Falsworth.::

“A fate worse than death, I’m sure. But I should behave, I suppose…” her stomach knotted a little, knowing she was putting off the inevitable, even though it felt good to be sliding back into her partnership with Bucky as if nothing truly bad had happened.

Glancing back to herself, Jac saw she was now finishing her folder work off under the watchful eye of her Grandfather, making a last few notes and adding a finishing touch to something that had made her proud, prouder even than the uniform that she wore in the memory. Her mutation had just began to activate at this point, although it was far easier for her to understand this in retrospect. Back then, Jac hadn’t had a clue what had been happening to her, as puberty had had very much the opposite effect on her in comparison to her schoolmates.

“Remember I’m driving you to the hospital tomorrow. I’m picking you up at one, so don’t forget.”

Jacqueline's head fell a little and she tugged at the waistband of her cadet issue skirt. “I know.”

“I know you don’t want to go. But your parents are worried. I’m worried.” His words were very gentle, but firm, a basic command to tell him the truth and be honest, otherwise he would be unable to help her. And she knew it.

“I know…” sighing, young Jac closed her folder, bowing her fair head. “But Mum thinks I’m not eating at all, or that I’m...y’know. Throwing it up or something. I am eating, lots. But I just can’t put on weight.”

“I believe you,” he squeezed her shoulder gently. “Now, have you had dinner?”

“Yes…” she trailed off, looking to one side, pretending to focus on a very interesting pencil case.

“But you’re still hungry?”

“A bit,” with a shrug of her shoulders, a smile was back on her face again.

“Alright. But if you want fish and chips then we have to leave now, or you’ll be late,” picking up her beret from where it was hung on the back of her desk chair, he positioned it on her head. Impulsively, Jacqueline reached forwards and gave him a hug, her skinny arms holding on to him tightly and for a moment, she was the little girl from the garden again.

“Thank you. I love you, Granddad.”

“It gets better, you know. And you’re going to be fine. I want you to know that I’m very proud of you, Jackie. No matter what. You’re going to be just fine. I love you too. Very much.”

If Bucky looked to the side, to his partner, he might have been quick enough to catch the tears on her cheeks as she watched the scene, remembering, and knowing what she was probably going to see next. Clearing her throat, she flickered her eyes upwards, understanding the purpose now.

“Thank you for reminding me where I came from. I know I always say how proud I am, but it’s easy to forget sometimes, easy to just lock this part of my life away to make everything distant so I don’t have to feel ashamed or like I’ve failed anyone. I don’t want to do that anymore.”


He saw her tears and he didn't comment on them, knowing Jac wouldn't have wanted it. Instead Bucky said, "Can we break for a little bit? Have some water or something?"

::Five minutes:: said the telepathic agent, at first not seeming to acknowledge Jac's thanks. Then there was a soft ::Fury makes no mistakes when he recruits.::

Then silence.

Bucky looked over to Jac and said, "I think that means 'you're welcome.'"


Twiddling her fingers together in a show of being busy, they couldn’t seem to be busy enough and instead one of them sought the hand that was not currently around her, needing that extra little connection. “Thank you, too. This is weird, like, really weird, and kind of awkward and embarrassing as this must be like reading the diary of a teenaged girl but...I had a good life. I just forgot that along the way. And I’m glad you’re here, with me…” It was only going to get harder, but she didn’t have to tell Bucky that. He knew. That was why he was there.


"I'm here whenever you want me to be, Partner," Bucky said , letting her find his other hand, "That's what pals are for." It was awkward sentiment, but this was as good as it was going to get for the two of them. Broken they might be... but they were mending. Definitely they were mending.

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Spitfire
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Superspeed with Pyrotechnic Effects
::Are we ready, Agents?:: The dry drone came around them and with a little shiver, Jac pulled back from her Partner and gave a nod.

“Guess we can’t drag this out too much,” she gave him a smile and the scan resumed, but things were already changing. With a sharp shock, they rushed past more fleeting moments of her teenaged years, until things slowed down and they were in a graveyard. She wasn’t much older than last they had seen her, but now she was dressed in black, hiding. The old, old church loomed up and she was trying furiously not to cry. They had buried her Grandfather with full military honours and she had been very brave and very calm, right up until the graveside. After they had lowered him down, her nerve had broke and she had run away. Running away was what she did.

“He was old. It was peaceful. But it hurt,” Jacqueline murmured beside Bucky, watching herself struggle with the emotions. “He had his dignity and his family. It was okay…” the words were as much for him as they were herself.


Bucky watched the funeral, wondering what the date was, wondering what year it was. Had he been active at that time? Was he off commiting the very injustices that he had once fought alongside Monty Falsworth? Or was he just a popsicle in a cryochamber? A Cold War weapon waiting to be weilded.

"When this is over, we'll go see him," Bucky said, his own voice barely a murmur. "I'd like to pay my respects."


Reaching across the space, she took hold of his hand and for once, the voice did not tell them off. “Together.” Jac promised him, a tear rolling off the edge of her nose as she remembered. But then the images moved on as she grew up. She wasn’t quite an adult, but she was racing on up the ladder in cadets, doing well in school. Falling head over heels for her brother’s best friend and her now teammate.

Then her mutation kicked in. It had come suddenly, the speed, which was rather a joke in itself. It had started simple; an argument with her mother over something silly. One moment she had been in the kitchen, had turned on her heel to go into another room and then...She was in a park. Afraid to go home, she had gone away to Brian at his university. Of course, she had gone home in the end, but it was different. Or maybe she just thought it had been. Maybe some of it had been her pushing herself out.

Her memories became flashing images again, though some moments were clearer than others. Saying goodbye to Joey as he went back to the military base in Germany, very much in teenaged love and clinging tightly to him in his uniform. How she had left school with brilliant marks but surprising everyone by not going into the military. Jac had been scared about what might have happened, given her mutation. It was foolish, now, but she had been young and dumb and hadn’t asked for help.

Considering what was coming next… As if in response to her thoughts, she felt a wind start around them as they began watching her brief stint at university in New York City. It would be brief, because of the Apocalypse. They should have evacuated, but Jac stood on the sidelines, watching herself as she had been five years almost to the day, staying to make sure her stupid friends were okay. God, they had been so foolish.

Jac had saved their sorry asses, but she’d had to reveal her mutant abilities to do so and what with everything happening, it wasn’t a great move. But what else could she do? Their reaction was bad and stranded in the USA, with most of her things gone including important documentation, she was stranded. Go home? After mucking up so bad?

Shuddering, they rushed closer to the moment that had changed everything, following in bursts as she had attempted to fend for herself, right up until that hot summer night in Hells Kitchen. July. It had practically happened on her birthday. Some present that had been.

Pyro appeared at her apartment door, trying to kill her at first, claiming Magneto wanted her dead. It had been a case of mistaken identity and the two had bickered like children in a playground...until SHIELD showed up. Jac went icy cold, freezing and tensing up, her breath catching in her throat. They came in the windows and not knowing what else to do, she had followed Pyro. Ending up on the roof, there was a roar and above them, descended more agents and…

::Cameron Hodge. That was a different time for SHIELD. We have moved on.::

“I know. But he was still a twat.”

::Your wording, Agent. But...yes.::

She watched as Hodge ordered the agents on the roof to arrest Pyro due to his strategic value, ignoring her until...

“Lieutenant. We need Pyro, but there’s no point in spending more money keeping the girl confined. She’s useless. Kill her.”

Keeping her head held high as Hodge spoke those words to his man, Jac was hardly even sorry as she helped Pyro kill them, even if she did collapse in a sorry heap after pushing one of them from the roof. It had been a lose lose situation. Kill or be killed.

“And, that’s how it all began,” Jac murmured to Bucky. “I knew what I was doing. I chose to live.”


"It was war," Bucky said, not flinching from the sights shown before him, "it still is. Sometimes choosing to live comes with some other part of you dying. No shame in it, Jac, no shame in that being the only choice you have." He looked over at her and smiled, "You're going to have to grow horns and a forked tongue for me to believe you've an evil bone in your body."


“I’ll remind you of that when you sulk about how I accept you,” Jac rolled her eyes but grinned through it, feeling a little better, a little more reassured, but the moment did not last long. Pyro took her back to Murderworld, back when they had lived in the shadow of Coney Island. It was a world away from her previous life. Jacqueline had kept pretty quiet about her upbringing, her heritage, rather appearing a little stupid than telling them about her origins. They didn’t belong in this world.

The Brotherhood trained her, drilled her. Her room was small and bare at first, although she brightened the concrete box the best she could. She never showed them she was scared, because she didn’t want them to think she was weak. So, she paid attention, worked hard, fell in. After all, it was what she did best. Hell, she even made friends after a fashion.

And she met Pietro. The speedster smiled faintly as she watched herself eating sandwiches with him on a wall. Nice, normal. But then back to the grind of being a good little terrorist. Those early days had been chaotic, but simple. There had been missions, but nothing major, not until…

The day was cold. A fine mist hung over the lake. She had gone in first, using her speed to swim across it in seconds and wait for the other two, who emerged and they went in together. The mission leader ordered her off to cut the wires, severing communications, CCTV… It was November 2009 and the Brotherhood were striking out with assassinations that spanned the globe.

As a team, they entered the house. Passing through the kitchen and then into a wide hallway. The appearance of a boy, probably only a few years younger than Jac had been, startled them. His neck was snapped by the reptilian mutant, the body silently lowered to the ground. A noise above came and Jac found herself looking upwards, as if stood at the foot of that grand staircase again and…

A burst of speed took her upwards, as she was no longer watching but living. She heard the music and saw the damp track of footprints that had belonged to Mrs Smith. Like the time it had happened, she was rifling through her wardrobe and turned, expression changing but unable to say or call out quick enough as the gun in Jac’s hand came up.

“This is for our freedom.”

Freedom. What the hell did she think she had been doing?

Bits of blood and brain and skull covered her in a fine mist. Headshot. She had always been good. Turning around, she went back downstairs and lived out the rest of the mission as it fell to pieces and went so badly sour. After, there was no home to go to, only back to base. Jac went through the motions as she had then, unlacing her boots in her room to find the bits of brain that fell out that had sent her running to the bathroom to throw up and cry like a scared little girl. Before, all her kills had been faceless. But she remembered them most of all.


Bucky remembered his first kill, remember thinking, "It's just a nazi bastard" until he looked down at the corpse, and it had been a kid his own age, maybe eighteen...maybe. He said nothing to Jac about the memory, just stayed holding her hand, and making sure she knew that he was not pulling away.


As they tailed out on the memory of the Smiths, it was as if she could smell the memory, could hear not just the savage argument between the two men she had been sent with but the sounds of the world outside the house. Then it fell away and they were moving onwards, back to more mundane little missions. There was a chance encounter with Captain Britain, albeit in his civilian guise. He was breaking up a fight and she had ended up kicking him in the face. Jac winced, but she was sure she heard a disembodied chuckle from those who watched with them.

Then her first Christmas with the Brotherhood. Setting a fire in the mall with Pyro. God, had they actually been friends? Looking back in retrospect was bizarre. More missions. More damages. Meeting her fellows, making the best out of things. Attacking the Hoover Dam. More death.

Then the colliding of realities happened. These memories were strange, jagged almost, as things started to overlap between her regular life and the life of the other girl who had existed in that wartorn world. These moments came and went sharply, then she saw herself with Havok. He had found her during one of her episodes, then had ‘let her go’. The memories skipped around, unstable due to what had been happening at the time, but when she was in Jus Soli, the memories became sharp again.

::We rarely get a chance to see such an in-depth example of this phenomenon. Thank you, Agent. This may prove useful for the future.::

She responded with a shrug and watched Pietro teach her to run on water, then talk to her about what had been happening. He had always been kind to her and she missed him more than ever as she watched her talking to him on the little island paradise of Orona.

“I miss there. Sometimes I just want to run away and live there, out of the way, where I can’t get into any trouble…” her words were quiet and wistful and slowly she dropped Bucky’s hand as the memories went ever onwards. Now they were talking to Magneto and she changed again in the office, the view altering so that they were suddenly in the palace in Jus Soli. Then back to Murderworld and a null cuff. Weeks she spent in that thing, still null cuffed when Onslaught had appeared and she had tossed herself in front of Pietro. Jac winced with the painful memory of it as she saw herself being thrown into the concrete ceiling, wrapping her arms around her middle. Darkness. Then more confusion. The fight in the Void alongside Havok and their counterparts as the House of M did their part to end it all.

Although, the Void was not that simple...In between all of the chaos and the confusion, there had been Speed. Bucky got to see little flashes here and there as they had met, secretly dated, or tried to. It had been tough. But then they had somehow found each other in the Void. And, for a moment it had been okay. Then it had been back to the real world and their complicated lives.

Finally, that period of her memory was done and she gasped for air. It had been like swimming through treacle. “How the hell was that useful?”

::You had the fortune to be more aware than most what was happening to you, and details about your equivalent mind. Trust me, Agent, for a telepath, it is most intriguing to sift through. Panning for gold is a worthy comparison.::


Bucky watched the events of WwX unfold with interest, having slept through it in the cold of a cryochamber. "That really happened?" he muttered to himself, "Jesus, that musta blown a mind or two." Idly, as the battles unfolded around him, he wondered who he would have been in that world. Still the mindless Winter Soldier, obviously, since he had never even heard of the man whose absence had caused all this tumoil, but would he have been sent out to kill in the name of the human world governments, would he have been pressed to execute Erik Lehnsherr before he turned the world on his head... Who knew? It boggled the mind to think about.

It was much safer to focus on the scenes with Tommy and Jac, and his jaw tightened just an imperceptible notch, as he realized how important those moments were to his friend and partner. If there was even the slightest hint of jealousy there, the emotion was far too complex for Bucky to categorize it.


Time skidded on and Jac saw herself asleep outside of Magneto’s office, looking like a little kid up past her bedtime. For a moment, the Master of Magnetism almost sent her away but then he called her into the office and that...well. That had been the start of that. Magneto quickly took her under his wing and from there she rose up, running missions for him, under his direct order.

And she found Brian again. For a moment, things seemed good.

And then, Murderworld...Jac stood straighter, staring ahead as the trap was set for SHIELD. Far too many died that night and she felt...What did she feel? Guilt? Remorse? Sorrow? The absence of their watchers voice was noticeable. But, there was much still to see, as the former den of the Brotherhood exploded and burned to the ground. She was in Sanctuary suddenly, having some kind of panic attack before passing out.

Those early days of Sanctuary were marred. Gambit had betrayed them. That stung. He had been a friend. Someone she had felt she could confide in utterly, like Pietro...and Pietro…

From the outside, she watched the madness that took him, reliving her memories up until that horrible night when Magneto had sent her to the house and she had found it stripped bare. Mirrors and windows covered up. The coffin in the garden. Then she had run back, chasing on to the teleportation bay.

“Initiate mindwipe.”

The words rang out again and too late, Pietro, Remy and Dum Dum were gone. The girl responsible blown to pieces. The smell was real. Again, all she could do was stare at the bloodied remains until now Jac found herself running, in the infirmary to see what had happened to one of the Acolytes, Primal, not a friend how the others had been, but she remembered the bloody stump of his arm and then being sent out. In the corridor, Jac collapsed to the floor and cried.

Then she was up, moving on and on through missions. Being chased down a dark corridor that smelt of death by a silver creature that had cut her back open and stolen her speed. Recruiting. In between there were days she did good. Teaching sports to children, learning the skills of nursing from Amelia. But then she would be back on the ground, dressed in black and yellow, or disguised as a civilian. She was in Genosha, walking through the slave pens, trying to hold her head high and pretend she was just another trainee magistrate. Gathering the intel for Magneto. Almost getting caught. Almost. Then going back and being given the highest honour he could bestow: Acolyte. Jac had worn that mark with such pride. All their talks. All their meetings...She really had believed in him and she had believed he did not truly want a world of blood and ash.

Purifiers followed. In frustration, she watched from the sidelines at times, glad that Tommy was now in Sanctuary. Then Mutant Town was threatened and she had gone in to try and help. Living the memory again, she begged to be listened to. Maybe it was a good job they had sent her, because they did listen and those who wanted to go were allowed. Time skipped again and she was suddenly elbow deep in blood as she sewed up little children who had been blown to pieces when Xavier’s had been attacked. Usually coated in the blood of enemies or even her own, her figure cut a stark contrast, even coated in spectral gore.

And suddenly Tommy was being brought in, for her to try and save his life only...Screwing her face up mid-memory, it suddenly went blurry as their break up due to differences that could possibly never be mended happened at the worst time. But she moved on, and on and fought and fought. Winter Island, full of sentinels and Purifiers and she was right next to Magneto when he had killed Stryker...So much anger. That period of time slammed through without mercy or pause until suddenly, it was still and calm for a moment…

Until Raven brought the white haired boy to the infirmary.


Like in his session, a point came where Jac was no longer a passive observer in the memories. She was reliving them, and though he knew she was still on the chair beside him, she did not. It was a long hard list of crimes committed by her and against her, and all he could do was watch and attempt to understand. He didn't feel any rage or anger towards her, no disgust, no shame or disappointment. Only concern that when it was over that she would be able to shake it off. He glanced at the ceiling and said, "There is a point to all this, right? Seems to me that most of this stuff is stuff Fury already knows, so if you are just sightseeing, I'd suggest you get on with it."


::The point, Agent?:: The voice murmured to him. ::I think you have already stumbled on the point yourself. When you were here, and she saw you as you were and she did not shy away, what did that do for your self worth? Once you have seen her for what she has been, as she saw you, then she can allow your acceptance as sincere. Because you have seen her, like she saw you. Do you understand, Agent Barnes?::


"I already accept her," Bucky snapped, "I know her. I know who she is. I've seen it. Besides, I'd have to be a goddamned hypocrite to shy away because she's killed a few people in her time. It's a war, Spooky, and she's a soldier. No soldier signs up thinking they are doing the wrong thing, and all too often, it's not until the battle is lost that they realize they didn't really understand what the fight was about."


::Doesn’t change the fact she’s scared, Agent Barnes. Don’t you see a theme for her yet? All the friends she lost? She’s scared she’s losing you too.::

With that, the voice went silent, smug almost. And Jac lived out dragging Joseph around England while learning on the run how to deal with a temperamental teenaged clone who insulted her, tried to steal her things, refused food then ate all of it...A brief flash of Magneto attacking came before she ended up in the X-men’s care. Null cuffed again. But, it wasn’t forever. Now in a jungle paradise, Jac did what she could to both help and fit in when the situation was difficult enough already.

The Skrull. The Brood. Bloody dinosaurs. It flickered past in seconds and then the X-men were leaving the Savage Land and she…

It was 1945. Jac turned around in a full circle, now dressed in the pretty yellow dress as the memory of an inn came about and she was looking at Bucky for the very first time.

She hadn’t been disappointed in him. Never in him.

They moved and she tried and tried to talk to him, to reach him while the others didn’t trust him an inch. but to her, he was a hero and he just needed their help.


Bucky didn't understand, not really, why Jac was so scared of losing him, considering himself no great catch, but he lapsed into silence until the shock of seeing himself as he had been. Broken. Half mad. Homocidal. Suicidal. He had such foggy memories of all that had happened, as his conditioning crumbled to dust, and his free will ripped itself out of the cobwebbed cocoon that had encased it. "How could she think she'd lose me..." he asked the voice of her examiner, "she's the only one who tried to find me."


::Maybe that’s why she’s scared of losing you.::

Jac did her best to help Bucky in the past, but as it turned out, her Grandfather had needed her help more. Knee deep in blood, she fought to save his life and performed a blood transfusion with the help of Jim Hammond. Even probably named herself. For a moment, it was clear she had considered staying in that era, but her memories filled with a blinding flash of light and Spitfire returned to her proper place. Which, so happened to be prison. An indefinite number of days passed by in a blur where she did nothing but read and work out and be visited by Pietro and Wisdom. A little ghost on the Helicarrier.

But then a day came where it was midnight, all day long and she was alone on the deck aside from...from…

“Spitfire?”

Their ‘reunion’ was brief, they talked and she gave him chocolate and was glad to see him looking better, but it was a moment of brightness for her, even when he left. The alarm sounded and she turned to watch Bucky, facing her real partner as she watched his specter jumping over the railing. It would be hard to not see the look on her face, or how tightly she clenched his mask.

And then Russia. St Petersburg and Exodus’s Phoenix fire. He had torn through her defences and tortured her, made her scream and now Bucky could see what she had seen, but again his image was there to help her. Like they helped each other and she clung on to it, tight.


He lowered his head when he saw the expression, and yeah, he was still trying to figure himself out, he was still uneasy with revealing his emotions, and part of him did long for the emptiness of mindless obedience. But he knew that expression. He'd seen it a lot back in his day. First at him, then later at Steve, and he passed his flesh and blood hand over his face. "Ah, Jac..." he murmured, but he said nothing more.

What more was there to say?


::If it makes you feel better, we can detect no permanent damage done by Exodus, other than what she is getting help for with Doctor Samson.::

Before Bucky, Jac tried to adjust to her new life circumstances once again. A lot had happened to her, evident from the changes all crushed together in fleeting moments to give a bloodied patchwork. But she was a Defender now, even if she could not quite shake her loyalty to Magneto. The real one whom she knew was out there.

Another shift and the room went dark, before a figure appeared in a doorway. Hyde. The most recent memories of all. Bucky had seen much of what had happened, but there were moments he had not seen. Jac moved, one moment the dutiful housewife, cooking and shopping. Then Hyde was standing over her, leering and talking to her, making jibes about the brother he had hidden away. The bad memories, the confusion at being controlled jostled with the feeling of safety and security within Greenville. Of feeling loved and needed.

And then...then...The redhead had turned up and broken the control, making comments and saying things that had fallen on her like stones, until Jac had walked out, sitting in the bathroom to cry. The tears didn’t last long, because the memory moved on and she was walking with Natalia, dressed for combat as they had skulked along the too-pretty streets.

"If I were you. I'd be straight forward with him. Nothing hurts worse than the wound you never let anyone know you have."

“No, he doesn’t make me feel special. Just not alone anymore,” she shrugged and looked away, unable to meet the other woman’s eyes. “And I can’t be straight with him. I’d rather him just not know and carry on being his friend, than make him uncomfortable to be around me and push him away that way. I’m the granddaughter of one of his oldest friends and he never stopped loving you. I can’t compete and I’ve been hurt enough in the past to even want to try.”


::Told you so.:: There was no malice in the voice this time as they quietly watched as Bucky in turn was freed and Jac ran to the lab, fighting with her own brother before her unstable return to the square, to fight again and again before she could break free and…

Falling down as the shockwave from the device rippled out, Spitfire lay on her side, as before, her head in the direction of the memory of Bucky, and closed her eyes.


Stepping through the illusory memory, Bucky looked over at himself, in the image, and then, he bent down and scooped Jac up, the way he should have in Greenville, though he hadn't been able to then. He set her gently on the chair and said, softly, "Still in the mood for cake?"

He didn't know how to be tender, couldn't be what she wanted him to be. But he was going to be what he could be and there wasn't a damn thing anyone could do to stop that.

"We’re good, Jac," he murmured, "you and me are always going to be good."


Jolting, as if she had been woken up, the speedster looked around slowly, then away from Bucky and shook her head, staring at the floor as the gravity of what he had seen sank in. “No. I just want a nap. You should…” ‘ask Natalia’ hung unsaid in the air as she scooted to the edge of the chair, but she reached out and caught hold of his hand, holding it tightly. “I’m sorry. For not being totally honest.”


Bucky shook his head, "Cake first. Nap later," he insisted, "Besides, I know you get the giggles when you watch me try something out of my comfort zone and caramel flavored coffee with whipped cream is so far out of it that it's got another zip code." She apologized and he said, "Jac, there's nothing to be sorry for... ever. Ok? You and me, we're a complicated pair, and whatever we are, I need you, and I will always be there when you need me. Always. My word doesn't mean a hell of a lot to a lot of people, but that doesn't make it any less solid. End of the line, always, end of the line."

He dropped an eyelid in a wink and said, "Besides, of course you had a crush on me. A half crazy, ninety year old amputee with a kill record half the length of Manhattan and a tenth grade education? I'm a real catch."


Cheeks burning bright red, Jac wanted to argue and slip back to her cabin stuffed away in the corner of the Helicarrier, but the truth was that she did really want to go out and go to Starbucks with him and be normal, well as normal as it was possible to be for them. "And I need you too. I'm not very good at saying it sometimes, as I've lost so many friends who all..." she hesitated, not needing to explain to Bucky as he had just seen her tangled life.

"And you're also a handsome, brave man, a hero, an Invader and you've helped save the world. Anyway, it's totally a thing to like older men." Her usual smile was slowly returning as she hopped down from the chair and shivered. "I look like crap though, so the least you can allow me is to change so I don't show you up in public. We can't all be leggy, redheaded supermodel types. Nice seeing you, Spooky."

::Pleasure as always, Agent Falsworth. Remember your session with Doctor Samson, for tomorrow, oh nine hundred hours. Don't be late."

"As if I could forget," breathing in deeply, she turned her head and gave Bucky a crooked, nervous grin. This was hardly going to be the easiest trip to Starbucks, but if they could get through it...it might be okay.
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