#ofjamesbcrnes

[agenthamburger]

“ everything will be okay, i promise. but you need to talk to me.”

@ofjamesbcrnes

James had a way with coming to her when she needed him most. When her heart was sinking into a place that she didn’t recognize. She was mentally preparing herself for loss — but there was no way to truly prepare for that. Everyone else had been preparing  for their futures, talking about marriage, and once again, Sharon felt like she had been hit in the chest. Unable (or maybe simply unwilling) to pretend that she could imagine a happy future.

There was no blame to put on anyone. Most of them had no idea what was going on through her head. Few people understood her. Even fewer could read her. But only one person really looked into her sudden silence. Much like the night that she broke down about Tony’s condition, Sharon was looking for a distraction. Tali was tucked into bed and Sharon was tempted to search the cupboards for something. James didn’t drink and Sharon had barely touched it since Tali had come into their lives. There was nothing. She knew it. They had moved into this place months ago and Sharon had never bothered to put more in the cart. 

So, she was in the kitchen, warming up shitty nacho cheese with a bag of cheap tortilla chips in her hand, waiting impatiently as the microwave ticked down. She could hear him stepping into the room before he spoke, but she had planned on letting him pass her — maybe even planted a kiss on his cheek as he moved on. It would have been easier that way, to pretend. James was too much like her, unable to let things sit, especially when he knew that she was actively in pain. 

(She was one push away from breaking down and James had almost managed to push her over the edge.)

“Tony asked me to join the Avengers,” she said as the timer finally went off. Her eyes never meeting his as she pulled out the dish, hissing quietly as she grabbed the plate. “It’s great for us right? Flexible hours, more time at home with you and Tali — it’s good. Everything is good.” She sucked on the burn on her finger, finally looking at him before shrugging. Everything in her heart was saying that nothing would be enough, that James had lasted this long with her being in and out constantly — but at any moment he could change his mind. At any moment Tony could die. At any moment, the world could be ripped out from under her. How could she plan anything for the future? How could someone like her make plans?

[flylikefalcon]

@ofjamesbcrnes​​

It was all the stupid cat’s fault. 

That was the long and short of it. Bucky vanished into thin air and left Sam alone, and Sam was okay with that. Really, he was. If Bucky wanted to vanish, if he wanted to take Clint and Wanda with him and leave Sam behind, that was fine. Sam had been left behind before. Barnes could have had the good grace to take his cat with him, was all. 

There was nobody else to feed it. As far as Sam knew, no one else even knew Bucky had a cat, but Sam did. And Sam couldn’t leave the damn thing to starve, no matter how pissed he’d been at Bucky, so he brought it home. He bought a litter-box. He researched the best kind of cat food. He made friends with a different kind of vet than the ones he usually hung out with. And if he sometimes found himself talking to Alpine at night, when Rhodes was with Stark’s family and Lang was with his and everyone else on the team except for Sam went home to the people who were important to them, nobody had to know that. If the only person Sam had outside working hours had four legs and a tail, no one had to know that.

At least... until the damn cat slipped out his apartment’s window and into a goddamn superhero fight happening outside. He’s smart, Bucky used to say. Knows who he likes and who he doesn’t. He knows our scents, you know. And Sam hadn’t believed him for a second, but now he was up in the sky and Alpine was on the ground looking up at him as if there wasn’t gunfire and lazer blasts all around him and the fucking cat was the only thing Sam had and it was going to get itself killed like it was nothing. 

Diving to the ground and scooping Alpine up wasn’t a conscious decision. It was instinct. It was the same thing that once convinced him to open his door wide enough for a couple of fugitives to slip into his living room, the same thing that had him throwing the Accords across the table without putting his name on the dotted line, the same thing that had him in a ring shop on leave between his first and second tour trying to decide whether Riley was the kind of guy who’d want a diamond. Instinct, for Sam, had been pretty hit or miss over the years.

He just never thought it’d be the thing that got him killed, as all. 

The explosion wasn’t like any he’d seen before. It was a flash of bright light, an almost pleasant warmth spreading across his face, a force just strong enough to shove him backwards and onto the ground. It was disorienting enough that the lost a few minutes in between, closed his eyes and opened them knowing time had passed. For a moment, he lay on the ground with his heart in his throat, in three places at once. 

Part of him was on that street, explosion still rocking his mind. Part of him was in a field in Wakanda, watching his fingers turn to dust. And the last part was in a desert, the world ending around him. It was that last part that seemed most prominent, that last part that gripped him tight and refused to let go.

“Riley,” he breathed, shooting up and searching for a body in the sand. There was no body. There was no sand. There was no blood between his fingers, no pain radiating through his chest. 

What there was, he realized after a moment, was a cat.

Sam stared at Alpine for a moment. He was cleaning himself, utterly unbothered by whatever had just happened. Around them, the battle that had been raging moments before was gone. Sam focused on the cat. The cat wasn’t hurt --- that probably meant Sam wasn’t, either, even if his mind screamed the contrary. 

“Okay,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut. “All right.” Bringing a hand up to his comm unit, he pressed the button experimentally. “Uh, guys? Cap here. Do you copy?” Static. “Rhodes? It’s Sam. Do you hear me?” Nothing. “Lang? Danvers? Strange? If anyone reads me, I need extraction.” The silence gave him all the answer he needed, and he nodded his head. “Okay,” he repeated, looking down at Alpine. “Just me and you, then. We’ll find them. They’re all right. We just... We gotta get to safety. Someplace to lay low. Right? Right. Lucky for us, I know just the place.” He scooped the cat up and zipped it into his jacket, nodding to himself as he started walking.

Whatever happened had pushed him out of city limits, but not far. Sam trudged forward, glancing around for any noticeable differences. Things were different in an indescribable way, but one thing was the same. The safe house he’d taken over after Bucky’s disappearance was still standing. The key in his pocket miraculously fit into the lock. When the door closed behind him, Sam breathed a quiet sigh of relief. “We got this,” he told Alpine soothingly, patting the cat’s head as he walked into the safe house. “Me and you, buddy, we...”

Something was wrong.

A jacket on the back of the chair that wasn’t his. A notepad on the table he didn’t recognize. A pink hairbrush on the floor, utterly out of place. Footsteps behind him, quiet and cautious but not silent enough to avoid being picked up by a mind already twelve levels of paranoid. Pulling a knife from his belt and gripping it tightly, Sam whirled around and held the blade at throat level, ready to strike...

...Only to let it drop slightly when greeted with a familiar face.

“Barnes?” The name caught in his throat, tight and uncertain. From his jacket, Alpine meowed. 

[daisyquakes]

@ofjamesbcrnes

She didn’t recognize him for reasons that most people would. For so long he had been a name on a wall at SHIELD headquarters, Daisy had never attached a face to it, not until now. A hero of SHIELD turned villain in some of the most horrific ways — but Daisy didn’t comment. She had no place to judge him, partly because she didn’t know the full story, but also because her own history was questionable at best. And she had only recently been pulled from the bounties list. (And so had he, she has noticed earlier in the day before everything had gone to shit, that his name had vanished.) 

“Bucky Barnes, right? Not that I’m a creepy stalker — which... saying that makes me sound exactly like that, doesn’t it?” Daisy reached out and offered him her hand to shake. She only knew the things that were in his file, and that was shotty at best. And the number of times that Hydra had been mentioned? She tried not to wonder if he had ever met Ward. If he had ever been in contact with that particular brand of bastard. “Daisy Johnson. SHIELD — uh, adjacent? I still need to figure out exactly what we are because I don’t think Carol is signing any paychecks but... teammates fits, right?” Or maybe they were just a mismatched group of people who made mistakes. 

Looking at the screen behind him — the window was knocked out but the electronics inside had been saved. Probably because who could go toe to toe with a super soldier and make it out with a flatscreen? A bulletin on the bottom scrolled as a fight played out on the screen. “Hypothetical question,” Daisy said, her voice changing pitch as she recognized the figures on the TV. “Two heroes throw down in the middle of the city, having been on the same side less than a week ago — do you jump in or mind your own business?” 

[vengeancedemons]

@ofjamesbcrnes

This place is feeling more and more like home every day. It should have been impossible for the Rider, as a voice in Robbie’s head, to sound dry... but he did. His words were absolutely sarcastic, and Robbie rolled his eyes in response. So, Hell? You’re saying this is like Hell? The Rider grunted the affirmative, and Robbie snorted. “Yeah, except I’m having a decent time here,” he spoke aloud this time. He was making his way through a crowd, fighting against the flow of movement to walk upstream of the terrified people, but he didn’t have a plan. It wasn’t as if sending Magneto to Hell was a viable option here.

There were people yelling evacuation orders, and Robbie ignored them. He didn’t stop until there was a firm hand on his shoulder, holding him in place. Tensing beneath it, he turned around to face its owner --- a man with long hair and a tired expression. “I live this way,” he lied smoothly. “Just trying to get home to ride this shit out, man.”

[twentyninetynines]

@ofjamesbcrnes

All he wanted was a cup of what qualified as coffee in this century. That was all. Miguel wasn’t a particularly needy man, had never had extravagant tastes even when he’d had the money to afford them, and that made getting trapped eighty years before his time a lot easier than it could have been. It did not, however, make it simple. 

For example, in 2099, when you ordered a cup of coffee, the balance was taken from your account instantly through the assistance of video surveillance and facial recognition. The ‘cards’ people carried were mostly for show --- a way of quickly letting the Public  Eye know whether or not they ought to arrest someone rather than a physical way of transmitting currency from one place to another. All this boiled down to Miguel standing at the counter of the coffee shop after having given his order, staring uncertainly at a barista who had her hand stretched out towards him expectantly. Miguel’s eyes darted from her palm to her eyes, confusion clear.

“You have to pay,” she told him patiently. “For the coffee.” 

“Like... I gotta fight you for it?” He tilted his head, glancing down at her hand again. “Is that how you throw a punch? You really shouldn’t be punching like that. Closed fist, first of all. And if you tell people it’s coming, it’s just gonna ---”

“I just want $3.50,” the barista said, a little less patient now. Miguel’s mind caught up, even if he had no idea how much $3.50 was in the terms of 2099 currency. It wouldn’t have mattered, anyways. He hadn’t realized he’d need a wallet for this outing.

“Can I get you an IOU?” Someone stepped out of line behind him and, right, holding up the line at a coffee shop during morning rush? Someone might fight him after all. Miguel grimaced, turning back to face a tired looking man with long brown hair. “I know, I know. Gimme a minute. I’m working this out.” 

The barista looked frustrated. Miguel could relate.

[apoisontouch-b]

@ofjamesbcrnes

There weren’t many people that Rogue met on the run that Rogue would have openly welcomed into her life. They were people in dark places -- and while Rogue could relate to that, most of them didn’t want to get better, and Rogue did. But there was one face that she remembered who was trying -- reaching for something he couldn’t quite grasp. Rogue only knew him as James, and it seemed, that was the only name of his that he remembered. He was reaching for a lot of things the last time she met him, but she saw it in his face, he was reaching but his memories were in constant motion. Slipping through his fingers.

Rogue would have offered to touch him -- to try and absorb some of that if she thought it would help him, but she... didn’t think there was anything she could do. But he was haunted in a way that reminded her of herself. (Another reason she didn’t want to absorb any of his memories. Shared life experience was a good way to bond but... that didn’t mean Rogue wanted to live it.) 

And then she had seen him on the TV -- when everything went to hell with the Accords. But seeing him at a local shop ordering food for two? That brought a smile to Rogue’s face. Even if it was only slight. “James?” That wasn’t the name that the TV had given him -- apparently, he had gone by Bucky, but that wasn’t the name that was familiar to her. “Your solo became a duo -- or ya just eating that much now?” Rogue questioned lightly. But she hoped that he was setting down roots, finding people who wouldn’t let him run -- just like Rogue had found that among the X-Men. 

[agenthamburger]

@ofjamesbcrnes​

It might have only been a weekend, but it had felt like a month. But that was what stress did, it highlighted the worst moments and extended them until they felt like a lifetime. But it had finally come to an end. And for once, Sharon was thinking about going home. Not just getting to an apartment with four empty walls and falling asleep on a couch that she missed far more than she should. More than rolling into Tony’s workshop with burgers (though that was also on her mind, but now that thought included Tali running up to Tony excitedly to tell him that everything had gone well enough. After all, they all had lived). 

This dream now included coming back to a work-in-progress home that she had with James and Tali. And she was walking back towards the front door with James, her hand in his. It wasn’t a cry for attention the way it usually was. It was... a comforting thing. Reminding herself that he had gotten caught, arrested, put away for a short time and came out on the other side of it with a chance to be himself. Whoever he decided to be. She had picked up on the hints that he had laid out for almost a year now, that the few people who knew him before, were looking for the James Barnes they had known. And now, the world had a chance to get to get him in the way he saw himself now. The person he was currently. Not the ghost that lingered in their memories. And she was so glad he had that chance, to step and be the man he wanted to be. No more hiding. At least, that was the idea. 

They hadn’t been out of the fire long enough to know how the world would react. But the idea gave them one thing that was scare. Especially in their line of work. Hope. 

His hand was on the door and for a brief moment, Sharon had put her hand on his, looking him in the eyes as she gave a small shake of her head. “I didn’t tell her what happened. I didn’t want to lie but I —” couldn’t tell the truth? Tali was raised like Natasha, saw more than she should, nad Sharon had seen the shift in Tali’s eyes when Sharon said that he’d be back. He just... got hung up dealing with something from his past that needed addressing. “I didn’t tell her that you had a way out. I didn’t... I didn’t want to give her false hope.” And even Sharon had been scared of hoping that his plan would work out. Hope was a dangerous thing. It could break people... and she had wanted to spare Tali of a deeper heartbreak. 

The best case scenario had been true for them... but like James, she had prepared for the worst. Rehearsed a thousand different speeches to explain James’s absence. With her words, she helped open the door, Ward was someplace inside with Tali, but it was the smaller footsteps that were clear. Unmasked by the training that she had been shaped with. Her steps hard and fast and the second that she saw James, she had used a box to give her the momentum she needed to leap onto the table by the door, and from there, she jumped into his arms. Her small arms wrapping around his neck and the rest of her body wrapping around him, clinging to him in a way that Sharon related to. One of love. Of longing. Of a child that missed — 

“Daddy—” Tali’s voice came out strange, desperate and quiet, shaking with emotion that she didn’t show. Not ever. “You’re home.” 

[agenthamburger]

@ofjamesbcrnes​

Moving wasn’t something that Sharon had done in many years. She had been choosy about where she lived before, her apartment being in the heart of the neighborhood she had chosen, near places that made it easy to travel via subway or taxi --- close enough to work she could get there no a dime, but far enough away that there was still a veil of privacy. But that apartment catered to a different lifestyle, one that Sharon had slowly left behind after finally settling down. That was what she had done, wasn’t it? She had a kid and a boyfriend and a different life ahead of her now.

And now she was unpacking what few personal belongings that she had into their bedroom, a few boxes on the ground and one that was unlabeled on the bed. She had been staring at it a long time, knowing exactly what was in that box but not sure if she was ready to see it --- and she wasn’t sure if Bucky was either. (It had been tucked away in her closet since she had cleared out Trip’s belongings from SHIELD. He had no family to speak of anymore, none that Sharon could find.) 

Sharon carefully cut open the top of the box and then looked over her shoulder, she could see Bucky shuffling around in the other room through the open door. “Hey, babe,” she called out to him before beckoning him to join her with a bob of her head. “I’ve got something for you.”