"Hey, I want to jump in this one," says Steve, nodding towards a store. "I’ll just be a second."
"I’ll wait out here," says Bucky. Sometimes, the small stores close in on him, shelves pressing close - today feels like it might be one of those days. So he stays on the street while Steve goes in, and suddenly there is someone pulling on his sleeve.
Bucky looks down – the kid blinking up at him can’t be older than eight. He has dark skin, black eyes, and a messy tangle of curls for hair. He looks nothing like Steve, but when Bucky stares at him Steve is all that Bucky can see.
“We match,” says the kid.
Maybe he could have. Maybe he couldn’t have. What’s telling, what is so important, to me, is that he doesn’t even try.
He’s already made his choice by knocking on the front door of Schmidt’s base, reckless and a little bit suicidal, really; he’s already decided he’s going to sacrifice himself. He already knows he doesn’t want to come back from this war, because what does he have to come back to? He wanted to fight bullies, and he has, and he’s going to make sure they win, but after that? His home was always Bucky and Bucky’s gone. Putting the plane in the water is just as natural to him as it was for Bucky to pick up the shield and protect Steve on that train.
Peggy tells Steve “Did you respect your friend? Then respect his decision. He must’ve damn well thought you were worth it.”
And it fucking kills me that both Steve and Bucky made peace with their own deaths, their own sacrifices — Bucky sacrifices himself for Steve, always for Steve, because Steve is what little good he’s got left inside of him, and Steve because it’s the right thing to do and he wants to make sure Bucky’s death wasn’t for nothing — but both of them have their sacrifices, their choices taken away from them. Steve gets dragged out of the ice, Bucky gets pulled out of the snow.
Steve gets put back into service, and we know in TWS he doesn’t really know why he’s doing it or what would make him happy because he’s living the life he didn’t want to live. He’s living it 70 years in the future, granted, but they made him come home and Bucky’s not there, and everything he ever knew is gone, and he fucking didn’t want that. He chose to put that bird down because he didn’t want that. And Bucky—
—Bucky stops having a choice as soon as the Soviets drag him up.
I still maintain that if Bucky had been the one of the radio instead of Peggy Steve would have found a way to haul ass home - if only out of the knowledge that Bucky would literally come out there to find him if he didn’t. And then bitch at him for the next decade. “Can you fly a plane, Rogers? No you fucking can’t. This is why we have a Plan B and a Plan C and Plan Steve’s a dumbass fucking punk.”
Is there any way, any point in time, where Steve and Bucky don’t make our heart bleed?!
#at no point do I believe that steve and bucky don’t constantly bicker about everything#but mostly steve’s lack of self preservation#and the commandos love it#it’s better than the wireless#and then bucky’s not there to yell at steve#and everything hurts#Headcanon
So here is a thing I’ve been wanting to talk about since I saw The Avengers and haven’t been able to because I was too busy writing we were emergencies: Natasha Romanov? Is terrified of the Hulk. Let me stop right here and address the comment I least want to receive in response to this statement, and, unfortunately, the comment I believe I am most likely to get:
- No she’s not, because that fear would make her less of a badass/Yes she is, and that fear makes her less of a badass/any permutation of the idea that being afraid of things somehow negates badassery:
What? No. Human beings are afraid of stuff, the end. It’s part of the human condition. People eat, sleep, breathe, shit, and fear things. Like, universally. Even Chuck Norris, wherever he may roam, has at least one thing that is his mental equivalent of something going bump in the night. Having fear is not a determinate of strength of character; how you handle that fear is. DONE.
Okay, with that out of the way, let’s first establish how we know Natasha is afraid of the Hulk. There’s the scene in the helicarrier, yeah, definitely, where she tries to keep Bruce from Hulking and then has to deal with him while Hulked; then there’s the scene afterwards, where she is visibly freaking the fuck out until she stands up and goes to beat the brainwashing out of a close friend, and yep, that’s fear, no question. But, you know what, I’m pretty sure any reasonable human not-immortal-like-Thor person would be a little bit like HOLY SHIT THAT WAS TERRIFYING AS FUCK JESUS GOD in the wake of being the target of an indestructible giant green rage monster. So, really, I think the more telling scene in her reaction when Bruce screws with her at the beginning of the movie—the degree to which her reaction is visibly, palpably one of fear is something we’ve never seen from Black Widow. And it’s not because the Hulk has showed up; it’s because there’s been the suggestion that he might. Or, to be more accurate, it’s because she’s just watched what she thought was Bruce losing control.
Because that’s what this is about, guys; that’s what it’s always about, with Natasha. Go grab yourselves some artist formerly and currently known as Prince, because this is a story about control.