Even had Natalia not taken James at his word, and Natalia does, the enthusiasm of their reunion would have been more than enough to convince that he's been on this island as long as he says, and faithful.
She's pleasantly exhausted, her body still thrumming when she untangles herself, settling into a more dignified sprawl across his chest. Cheek pressed warm to the skin over his heart, Natalia smiles as she listens to it begin to slow, gazing up at him through half-lidded eyes. He looks better for the exercise, still exhausted, but calmer, still, and Natalia feels herself relaxing in turn, her attention expanding to the space beyond the bed.
From what she can see with a few flicks of her gaze, the place is simple, but well taken care of apart from the furniture they destroyed in the fight, and clean, even if it smells distinctively of man. A bit too much, in fact, to account for only James. He keeps himself neat, but the memories of Clint and Sam dropping by to share his exercise room are not far removed, the scent of all those men together distinct, and Natalia lifts her head, peering through the cracked bedroom door. She can see little in the darkness, but she doesn't have to. "James," she says, quiet in her surprise, "You have a roommate."
The truth is, Bucky could fall asleep right now, and not be sorry for it. He's warm, but pleasantly so, sated for the first time in he can't remember -- a recurring theme for the evening. His right arm's draped around Natalia, holding her close for the novelty as much as anything else. When she speaks, however, he drowsily lifts his head, too, looking in the same direction, though there's not much to see.
"Jason Todd," he says, and not for the first time tonight, he's glad for the kid's penchant for sneaking out. "Teenage vigilante from another world. A bit... misguided at times, but a good kid."
The explanation is no less surprising, and Natalia draws up on an elbow to look at him. "James Barnes," she says, smiling faintly, "you took in a stray." It's not the first time she's seen him open his doors, but for the good of the many, not for a single, lonely teen. She's no stranger to James' surprises or his charm, but even so, Natalia finds this one particularly affecting, sweet, though she won't yet say so.
"But another world," she continues with a faint twist of her mouth. "What does that mean? You say this places draws many people, but from where?"
He doesn't blush, but it's a near-thing, his skin still flushed from the earlier exertion. Taking Jason in had seemed the right thing to do at the time, something Bucky thought Steve might have done in his stead. Better Jason live with some sort of supervision than on his own in a cave like a goddamn bat.
"Everywhere, far as anyone can tell," replies Bucky, and it's evident in his voice how much he doesn't like that as an answer, something so vague. The devil's in the details, especially in their line of work. "Different dimensions, universes. In his world, there's no Captain America, no Black Widow or Avengers, but there are other heroes... Villains. There are people here from the distant past and far-off future, but there's no rhyme or reason to any of it."
Natalia's seen her share of odd phenomenon, even alternate dimensions, but still, the revelation is worrying, and it's a moment before she recalls who she's with and allows the concern to reach her features.
"And who is here from our world?" she asks. "You and I, Steve...are there others? Avengers?"
"A few, but it's..." Bucky trails off for a moment, huffing out a quiet laugh as he blinks up at the ceiling, stretching his free arm above his head, bent at the elbow.
"Complicated. Iron Man's from a world where he's the only act in town, at least from the point he was pulled from; he's seeing his version of Pepper Potts. Thor's aware of S.H.I.E.L.D., but not the Avengers. I don't know if he's from the same world as Stark, but he very well could be. Jane Foster is -- get this -- an astrophysicist, which is probably the biggest deviation I've seen between universes so far. The rest are from our version of events, but from different points in history. Wolverine's from the recent past, and there's a handful of X-Men, plus a few members from affiliate teams... Mostly X-Factor, you know that mutant detective agency? Then there's Wiccan from the Young Avengers, and one of those runaways from California. Sasquatch from Alpha Flight's been around for a while, too, and your old pal Daredevil showed up a couple months back, looking a helluva lot saner than he's been in a while."
He clears his throat after the last name, and adds, "Problem is, no matter the universe, they all have one thing in common."
She listens with her full attention, ears picking out a few names among the many. Tony, Logan, Matt. It's reassuring, until all at once it isn't, the idea of a universe in which Tony has no idea of her existence disturbing to put it very lightly.
"An astrophysicist," she murmurs, selecting the offense furthest from her heart to speak on. But why? Natalia might be very old, but she's lived long enough to know there are things she'll never understand, but even so, it seems a callous change to the order of the world she knows. Falling back against the sheets, Natalia stares at the simple roof over their heads, curls into the reassuring warmth of James at her side. "What is it, this thing they have in common?"
"No powers," says Bucky, simply. It's not an aspect of life here that's affected him personally, but he's observed the effect in others. He imagines it must be frustrating. "Technology works as it should, more or less, but all of the mutants have effectively been depowered, just like everyone else here who used to have superhuman abilities."
Her thoughts go to Matt before herself. She's been granted an unnaturally long life, a stronger, more durable body, but if she had to, Natalia could do her job without it. She could still see without it, after all. But Matt...
She curses softly, fingers seeking then threading through James' in the darkness, and adds with stubbornness, "I feel no different."
"I don't know that Steve does, either," Bucky admits, dropping a kiss to the top of Natalia's head, her hair tickling his nose. Squeezing her hand in turn, he knows it'll be a while before he tires of the simplest intimacies. "Others aren't so lucky."
She's silent for a while after that. It's comfortable here with James, in ways it has no right to be. Natalia is in a different dimension than she was only an hour ago, trapped, with friends that will know her and dear ones that won't. If she had a choice, she'd remain content a moment longer, but she doesn't. They so rarely do.
"Does he know he's alive?" she asks. "Does he know you took up his shield? Do any of them?"
"Yeah," says Bucky, his voice barely more than an exhale. "He knows the broad strokes of what's happened -- that I'm Captain America, the Invasion, the siege on Asgard and the aftermath... I've told him that much. But the casualties we've suffered since he died, the details of my future-- He showed up shot, Tasha, bleeding out on the steps of the main building around these parts, but before Sharon got to him. We had to rush him into surgery... And the last time he saw me... I tried to kill him."
She hates the thought of it, of James witnessing that all over again, and she wonders if it helped him to be able to do something for Steve this time. Thumb sweeping circles against his palm, Natalia tilts her head to look at him.
"Not you," she says. "He believed that before anyone else did."
It's nothing Bucky hasn't heard before, and his answer's the same as it's always been; he might've been a passenger in his own mind, but the Winter Soldier's actions were still done by his hands. He falls quiet, his mouth pressing together in a thin line, his disagreement on the matter tacit, since there's no point in repeating himself, though he does let out a quiet noise of protest all the same.
Natalia doesn't press. He knows her mind, and she knows his. There isn't any point in riling him, but neither is there merit in letting him stew. Drawing up on an elbow, Natalia presses a kiss to the corner of his tightly drawn mouth.
"Tell me about this place," she says, taking in a breath of fresh but humid air. It bears traces of sweetness, of fruits and flowers and ocean salt. It must be quite beautiful outside. "Tell me about your life here."
"The main island's about ten miles across," says Bucky, glancing up at her, "with a smaller island off the west coast though most don't live there. The climate's similar to Hawaii most of the time, except for a period in December and early January, when, through forces unknown, the whole island transforms into some kind of winter wonderland... Individuals don't have powers, but the place runs on what can best be described as magic. There's a box in the main building, the Compound, that spits out an endless supply of clothes, but good luck finding something that's decent, and there's a bookshelf that operates on the same principle, not to mention a jukebox with a twisted sense of humor. Population's just under 250, crime's at a bare minimum despite there being no formal laws, and there's no real economy to speak of, barring the occasional trade and barter."
She's pleasantly exhausted, her body still thrumming when she untangles herself, settling into a more dignified sprawl across his chest. Cheek pressed warm to the skin over his heart, Natalia smiles as she listens to it begin to slow, gazing up at him through half-lidded eyes. He looks better for the exercise, still exhausted, but calmer, still, and Natalia feels herself relaxing in turn, her attention expanding to the space beyond the bed.
From what she can see with a few flicks of her gaze, the place is simple, but well taken care of apart from the furniture they destroyed in the fight, and clean, even if it smells distinctively of man. A bit too much, in fact, to account for only James. He keeps himself neat, but the memories of Clint and Sam dropping by to share his exercise room are not far removed, the scent of all those men together distinct, and Natalia lifts her head, peering through the cracked bedroom door. She can see little in the darkness, but she doesn't have to. "James," she says, quiet in her surprise, "You have a roommate."
Reply
"Jason Todd," he says, and not for the first time tonight, he's glad for the kid's penchant for sneaking out. "Teenage vigilante from another world. A bit... misguided at times, but a good kid."
Reply
"But another world," she continues with a faint twist of her mouth. "What does that mean? You say this places draws many people, but from where?"
Reply
"Everywhere, far as anyone can tell," replies Bucky, and it's evident in his voice how much he doesn't like that as an answer, something so vague. The devil's in the details, especially in their line of work. "Different dimensions, universes. In his world, there's no Captain America, no Black Widow or Avengers, but there are other heroes... Villains. There are people here from the distant past and far-off future, but there's no rhyme or reason to any of it."
Reply
"And who is here from our world?" she asks. "You and I, Steve...are there others? Avengers?"
Reply
"Complicated. Iron Man's from a world where he's the only act in town, at least from the point he was pulled from; he's seeing his version of Pepper Potts. Thor's aware of S.H.I.E.L.D., but not the Avengers. I don't know if he's from the same world as Stark, but he very well could be. Jane Foster is -- get this -- an astrophysicist, which is probably the biggest deviation I've seen between universes so far. The rest are from our version of events, but from different points in history. Wolverine's from the recent past, and there's a handful of X-Men, plus a few members from affiliate teams... Mostly X-Factor, you know that mutant detective agency? Then there's Wiccan from the Young Avengers, and one of those runaways from California. Sasquatch from Alpha Flight's been around for a while, too, and your old pal Daredevil showed up a couple months back, looking a helluva lot saner than he's been in a while."
He clears his throat after the last name, and adds, "Problem is, no matter the universe, they all have one thing in common."
Reply
"An astrophysicist," she murmurs, selecting the offense furthest from her heart to speak on. But why? Natalia might be very old, but she's lived long enough to know there are things she'll never understand, but even so, it seems a callous change to the order of the world she knows. Falling back against the sheets, Natalia stares at the simple roof over their heads, curls into the reassuring warmth of James at her side. "What is it, this thing they have in common?"
Reply
Reply
She curses softly, fingers seeking then threading through James' in the darkness, and adds with stubbornness, "I feel no different."
Reply
Reply
"Does he know he's alive?" she asks. "Does he know you took up his shield? Do any of them?"
Reply
Reply
"Not you," she says. "He believed that before anyone else did."
Reply
Reply
"Tell me about this place," she says, taking in a breath of fresh but humid air. It bears traces of sweetness, of fruits and flowers and ocean salt. It must be quite beautiful outside. "Tell me about your life here."
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment