(no subject)
Title: House of M: An Innocent Man
Author: cat_13145
Disclaimer: Marvel owns it all!
Comic: House of M/ Captain America?
Spoilers: (if applicable) Only for very briefly for Captain American 10. Oh and if you have no idea about the House of M
Pairing/Characters: Bucky/Toro, Eli, Mystique, Kurt, various others referenced.
Rating: PG 13
Warnings: Slash, but I think that's it.
Summary: Life in the House of M.
Author's Notes: Sequel to Man for all seasons and Seasons in the sun. For ani bester and ladyblkrose who both asked for a sequel. If anyone can suggest anywhere else I could post it, I'd be really grateful. It's a bit different to my normal style and unbetaed, so let me know how it works out.
Toro sat saddling Bucky, running his hands over his scars.
Some were old and familiar, like the creases in a well read paperback.
Some were new, Bucky still wincing slightly as his hands combed over them.
And then there were the others, the ones that made him think of what Bucky had told him about his captivity by SHIELD, the ones that made him feel sick to his stomach.
Gently, he let his hand run over the most stylised of these, a star cut into upper part of his arm.
“This must have been deep,” he muttered.
“Hmmm.” Bucky grunted, his eyes fixed on the ceiling.
“Why did they do it?”
Bucky shrugged. “A lot of the others, they have a scar there. An M. But I wasn’t a mutant.”
“So they carved on a symbol of what you were.” Toro muttered. He put his head on one side. “Do you think they meant it to be Cap’s symbol or the Soviets?”
Under him Bucky stiffened, seeking to be free.
“Dum Dum...” he said, his voice very, very quiet, “He did it, after Nick was summoned to Washington. Used his combat knife. Cut almost to the bone. It got infected. I was lucky not to lose it.”
To someone who didn’t know the former sidekick, the words would have sounded emotionless, defeatist. But Toro could hear the incomprehension of how a man they trusted could have betrayed them, Bucky’s confusion at how the world had changed so much, and the pain of it all.
“Seems appropriate.” He muttered, softly. He paused, bending down to kiss the scar.
“Do you think, if it hadn’t...would you have taken the mask?”
Bucky turned his head to stare at the wall, as he answered. “No.”
*****
“With all due respect, sir, I don’t see the point of this mission.”
Bucky resisted the desire to roll his eyes by gritting his teeth. This Eli kid was too respectful, too in awe for his tastes.
“Probably the most important lesson you’re going to learn from me. And one I wish I’d understood at your age.”
The weak snow was falling, which was going to make the jump tricky, but what was life without some risks? Might even show him what this kid was made of.
“Now get moving, kid. I’m not bailing you out.”
The swan dive off the roof, with a roll in a crouch, he admit, it was showing off. And he was impressed when Eli nearly perfectly mimicked it.
He was Bradley’s kid alright, and maybe he would do a better job of staying alive than his old man had managed. That was the reason he’d chosen him.
The kid had leadership skills; he just had to learn to trust them.
“Know where we are?”
Eli nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
“Where?”
He watched as Eli looked around him.
“McCarthy Cemetery.”
Bucky nodded. “A false cemetery, of course. There are hardly any bodies here. We’re here to visit one of them.”
They walked around stone angels, slabs of marble and granite, stars of David and Moon and stars.
“I knew your grandfather.” He said conversationally, feeling the young man by his side stiffen.
“He was a traitor and a deserter.” The emotion flowing though was the first honest response he’d got from him.
“Maybe. But he saved my life.”
He paused, reading off a stone at his feet.
“Jack Monroe. Born 7th December 1941.”
He turned to face Eli.
“Know why he’s here?”
Eli shrugged. “Not specifically him sir, but most of the people here...they refused to hand over Mutants to the Senate Committee on Mutant Activities didn’t they?”
“Yeah.” Bucky said, brushing the snow off a second, large tomb stone that stood next to it. “Except that isn’t true for Munroe.”
He indicated a second tombstone. “Read the name on that.”
“Steve Rogers. But Captain America’s still...”
Bucky held up a hand.
“This was a different Captain America, kid, a man who admired the original so much that he changed his name and appearance to look like him.” He paused, chewing slightly on his lip.
“You’re too young to remember the Senate Committee on Mutant Activities, but when Cap unmasked...” he shook his head. “There was a big reaction.”
“That’s when you were arrested, wasn’t it...sir?” the uncertainty was there, and he nodded.
“Yeah. Cause I wouldn’t give them my friends. Wouldn’t lie for them, but wasn’t smart enough to expose them.”
He shook himself, trying to get rid of the ghosts. “The senate had a plan, to try and lure the Mutants they were seeking out of hiding. Munroe looked a bit like me, and they were sure they could use him, to trick a...a friend of Bucky’s, who wouldn’t believe the lies they were trying to feed him.”
“What happened?” Eli’s curiosity had gotten the better of him.
“They sent him after Namor. Of course, the guy saw right through it. Subby might smell of fish, but he’s not stupid.”
He paused. “Namor sent him back with a flea in his ear.” Chewing on his lip, he continued. “This guy, Steve Rogers, He knew what they’d do. That night, he,” he swallowed. “He turned the gas on. Kid and he were dead in the morning.”
He paused. “If the trick had worked, if they’d got Namor, then they would have paraded him as a puppet, used him to convince others that Magneto was wrong, that the camps were lie. Yet he’s buried next to mutants who died rather than give up their friends.”
He turned to look at Eli. “What does that tell you kid?”
Eli’s face was a picture of confusion. “I...I don’t know sir.”
“History is how you look at it.” He turned.
“Sir.” The voice sounded more uncertain than it had at the beginning, but it was determined. “My grandfather, sir, can you tell me about him?”
Bucky grinned. “Only if you stop calling me sir!”
*****
“I don’t want to go!”
Toro had to admire Kurt’s abilities. Barely 5 years old, and already an exceptional climber. Of course when Mystique was going frantic in the camp, and you were on the top floor of a German castle that looked like it might fall off the cliffs at any moment, that wasn’t necessarily a good thing.
“I don’t want to go to America. Everyone says how bad it is. I want to stay here, with the circus. Amanda says I can start learning on the trapeze next year.”
Toro smiled. There was no doubt in his mind that the little elf would be good on the traipses, he had a natural love of being the centre of attention, and his mutation seemed to mean his body was perfectly designed for it.
“Jean Paul is going to America too. He could teach you there.”
Kurt rolled his eyes, in a way that expressed his contempt for the stupidity of his elders.
“I don’t want to go to America. I don’t like that Mr. Shore. He’s creepy.”
Toro couldn’t say he disagreed with Kurt’s opinion, but he forced himself to remember that he’d found Nick “Creepy” the first time he’d met him.
His sorrow, as he remembered the reported death of the man must have shown in his face, as Kurt asked.
“Are you thinking about him?”
“Who?”
“Bucky.” The small mutant hung upside down on the bar. “You call out his name in your sleep sometimes. Mother says that he was a bad man. That he killed a mutant”
Toro forced himself to swallow. “Well, that’s what a lot of people think, but I think they’re wrong. I think that they used someone who looked like my friend to do that and I think Bucky’s in trouble. So I’m trying to find him.”
He watched as Kurt digested this information, before nodding. “Mr. Shore said Shield finds people.”
“It used to.” He agreed diplomatically.
“Are you going to Join SHIELD?”
He shook his head. “I can’t. My powers...they’re too unstable.”
It’s a lie, and he should feel bad for it, but Kurt nods.
“That’s sad.”
“Yeah, well.” He shrugged. “You ready to go back to your mum?”
He held out his arms and Kurt moved into them.
“Will you come and visit us in America, flaming man?”
Toro bit on his lip. “We’ll see.”
Kurt nodded. “When I’m grown up, I could help find Bucky.”
Toro smiled. “That’s very kind of you, Kurt.”
He watched as the little child gave a large yawn.
“Come on. Let’s get you back to your mum.”
Kurt was almost asleep against his chest, soothed by the warmth and tired by the excitement.
“And I’ll” yawn “Help you find Toro too.” He muttered, falling asleep against his chest.
Toro swallowed, determined not to cry.
“Thanks kiddo.” He muttered, a part of him praying that it wasn’t too late for Toro to be saved.
*****
“Sapien lover.”
It was a whisper, but to Toro, it was as good as a shout, as he joined Bucky at their table. Bucky’s spoon stabbed the banana as though it personally has offended him.
“Ignore him.”
“I’d rather shoot him.”
Toro sipped his sundae, wandering if he dares ask.
“Do they... In SHIELD... Do they call you...stuff?” he finished lamely, but he’s never had Bucky’s courage. He knows some of the terms they use against Sapiens; he’s heard them in the street. Genejoke, Monkey, retard, Sap. He remembers how much fake Bucky’s words hurt him, the words he used.
He doesn’t think he could bear it if someone was using them against his Bucky.
James shook his head. “No.” Toro
contentedly went back to his sundae, the sucking noises loud enough to hide out the muttered. “But that doesn’t mean they don’t think it.”
*****
Bucky’s old uniform was never close fitting, like his, it was always loose, so that it could be easily discarded.
The SHIELD uniform is black leather, looking almost as though it’s being poured on to the wearer. He’s heard rumours that the agents have to be issued with special underwear to avoid public indecency laws.
He sees Rogue standing by the bar, and thinks that she could be arrested in that thing, regulation underwear or not. Then again, Bucky’s butt in that thing should be illegal. It probably is in the Southern states.
He watches Logan chuck another shot down his throat, the blue eyes revealing he isn’t as drunk as he’s trying to pretend. The slightly haunted look in his eyes makes him wander if that’s a good thing.
He watches as Bucky and Rogue carry the drinks back to their table, Mystique pointedly not acknowledging Bucky more than she has to, and decides that he prefers the old uniform, even though Bucky was considerably less eager to get out of it.
But he also doesn’t have to deal with the dead look in his lover’s eyes.