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While there are MANY uncomfortable guards about the fact that Peggy is insisting on going in alone, she has pulled rank on them all. She's allowing them to monitor from the outside, to be on hand with those stun bullets and worse. Bucky is still restrainted, technically, though she hates having him like that. But, Peggy won her battle and is now, finally, getting her chance with the prisoner alone. She pushes the door to the cell open, very quietly beginning to hum as she steps in. The song is an old song they once sang, together, around that pub in England. Peggy's voice isn't amazing, but it's enough to hold a tune, like it did twenty years ago… Soon enough, she starts quietly: "They say there's a troopship just leaving bombay, bound for old blighty shore, Heavily laden with time expired men, bound for the land they adore. There's many an airman just finishing his time, there's many a twerp signing on. You'll get no promotion this side of the ocean, so cheer up my lads, bless 'em all…"
*
Music hath charms, they say. And it's the first thing that's called up anything that clearly belongs to James Barnes, and not the vicious overlay that is the Winter Soldier. He's watching her with puzzlement, but it's not the blind-eyed confusion he's shown before. This bit, at least, tickles the edge of recall. Or maybe he's just so stoned he has no idea what's going on.
*
"Oh, come on, Bucky…you remember…" Peggy cuts in softly, her clipped, warm accent as familiar as the song. Or it should be. She was just not this old or this pregnant the last they met. Time weighs on all things. SHe smiles a bit more, pulling over a chair near to his bed and gingerly folding down into it as she continues quietly, "Bless em all, bless em all, the long and the short and the tall. Bless all the sergeants and w. o. ones, Bless all the corp'rals and their blinkin sons, 'Cause we're saying goodbye to them all, as back to their billets they crawl. You'll get no promotion this side of the ocean, so cheer up my lads, bless 'em all…"
*
There are agents aplenty in the hall, hearts in their throats….and more than one of them bemused by the way the boss is treating this particular prisoner. He mouthes that name back to her, mutely. Bucky. Then his gaze goes to the ceiling, and there's a sort of flicker there, before he looks back to her. When she trails off into silence, he says, finally, "…..you knew me when I was Sergeant Barnes." Since that identity's been listed assumed KIA - so say the records, so says the cenotaph in Arlington, worn by twenty years of rain and weather.
*
"…Yes. We served together. Along with Steve Rogers. You… do you remember Steve?" Even if he couldn't remember Peggy, SURELY Steve was somewhere in there. Peggy reaches into the breast pocket of her opened jacket (she can no longer button it) and draws out a small leather photo protector. She opens it, to reveal the one photo of Steve she's kept above all others. Skinny Steve. The kid she met BEFORE Rebirth, who threw himself on grenades. "This man. Before he became Captain America." She hovers it before his eyes, if he's willing to turn and look.
*
"I have a memory of Steve," he says. A memory. One (1). But he frowns as he peers at that photo. "No. HE was a lot bigger," he says, after a moment. "That's him as a younger man?" HE should know - how many time did he drag that scrawny little scrapper out of fights?
*
"Yes. When he very first enlisted. Before he was given the serum he volunteered to take. The serum changed him… Turned his body into what his heart always was. But… this is the Steve I always remember." Peggy confesses quietly. Honest words. She's baring herself to him, open, too gentle almost, in hopes that it might bring out some of those older memories or a deeper trust.
*
"……I talked to him a…a few days ago," he says, slowly. "Does he know I'm here, now?" He looks up into her face. "What are you going to do with me?" There's no fear in that question. Not even any unease. That beaten dog acceptance. "How many of your men have I killed?" Someone's told him - a whisper when tending the equipment, checking the binding. The names of the agents who ended up on the Wall of Valor because of his previous sojourn in SHIELD's custody. The Director's got memories from before. Too many of her men don't.
*
"I sent a message but… we don't work together any more. He's found his own life. The war is over. I'm sure he's going to come the moment he gets it, though." Peggy murmurs gently, carefully folding that leather bit back into place, across that precious, old photo. She slips it back into her pocket and sinks deeper in the seat, exhaling a slow breath. "…I don't know how many of us you've killed. The last time we tried to take you in you… practiced restraint, of a sort. But then you got desperate and scared. I'm trying to make sure that doesn't happen this time. We're… trying to get someone in here who can help fix your head."
*
There's a glint of something there at that, sharp, fierce. The Soldier's got an opinion on that front…..but he says nothing. ANd then the flicker's gone, and he's ….if not exactly James, not the Winter Soldier. "Who's that?"
*
"Who's…What? Going to help with your head? Well, a woman named Sofia, first… I hope. And we have some psychologists. But… I don't want you to hurt yourself more. Or others. I know it wasn't you, Bucky, who killed those men. You *are* a good man. But… we have to get you in your right head first, before we can do anything." Peggy explains soft and calmly, as if she wasn't talking to a psychokiller who was just strapped to a bed in front of her very pregnant self.
*
It's definitely James who replies - the Soldier may not be entirely without humor, but most of his doesn't match Bucky's - with a rueful, tired, "It sounds like what you actually need is a priest - bell, book, and candle." There's pity there, for her, not for himself. "'cause the thing that did is riding around in here with me."
*
"I know it is, Buck…I know." Peggy breathes out quietly, the comment betraying some of the deep exhaustion behind her voice. And worry. Bone deep worry. Worried enough she can't just sit there any more but she pushes herself up with a bit of a grunt so she can fall into that waddling pacing. It at least helped her think better. "But… we have capable people. People able to actually… Affect memories. Not just head shrinks. There are powers and gifts that don't come from serum tubes these days and I trust… a few people with them. Very few. But some. It'll be a good start."
*
"Assuming you can do this. They can do this. They kick out or erase or otherwise subdue my rider," As if the Soldier were like a malevolent loa, and Bucky just his 'horse'. "What then? I looked at Barnes's records. He maybe KIA, but if the Army ever figures out that's wrong….I'll be under military discipline. Court martial." And he knows what the punishment for desertion and treason is.
*
That question lingers for a long, long time. Peggy says nothing, having been mulling this over for ages. Just the quiet echoing of her footsteps on the floor as she continues pacing, one hand going to the side of her stomach, against some distant, annoying ache which is distracting her from her thoughts. Finally, she begins quietly, "If I can have our telepaths and memory experts assure me that the Winter Soldier, the assassin… Whatever the Red Room did to you is truly gone. Controled. Supressed. Whatever they can do to promise me that it's over… If we can make that happen… Then James Barnes disappears. The way he did in the war. And we make you a new life. New identity. New history… we give you a clean slate." Because she can do that. She is Peggy Carter, and she's been bending the rules since 1939.
*
It's more than he has any right to expect. ….which is another source of confusion. "Why?" he says, simply. "Why do all this? Why not hand me over, save everyone the trouble?" Buck sounds almost casual about it.
*
"…Because we're the good guys. We are here to protect and defend. *Everyone*. This happened to you in service of your country. This happened while we were all chasing down HYDRA like a bunch of young maniacs because we all thought we were immortal. James…" Peggy breathes out, pausing in her pacing, "…I was the one that plotted out the mission where you fell from that bloody train. We aren't here to punish innocent men. We are here to save good ones. The man in your head… the sickness, the 'Soldier'? That is as much HYDRA as what you fought at our sides."
*
Bucky heaves a slow breath, which turns into a sigh. As if argument required more strength than he could possibly muster. You can only poke a gift horse in the mouth so many times before it bites you. Then he nods. IT's a feeble sort of clarity, but surely a welcome change from the shrieking maniac he's manifested in the past twenty four hours.
*
"…I can't make promises it will happen. If we cannot be totally assured whatever… monster is in your head… is done for good? I can't let it happen. But that's my hope, Bucky… and it's one I'm going to work for very hard." Peggy steps quietly over to the side of his bed, so she can look down into his slightly hooded, drugged eyes. She wants to meet his gaze for this, "But you have to be willing to work with me."
*
"I understand," he says, simply, looking up at her. His face is pale as paper, his eyes faintly bloodshot. But clearer than they have been. "If it doesn't work - make it quick." There's a bitter little curl to the edge of his lip, and his metal hand tightens on the bed. It's not a prelude to another episode of madness, though. "Your tech guys can have the arm, the rest gets cremated. Okay?"
*
A slight grimance paints across Peggy's face as she hears that. She exhales quietly, "…If it doesn't work, we are going to try a few other things. But yes… if there is no other choice…" She simply bows her head in agreement. He'll have her promise on that, even if it kills something in her. That's the ice queen Director Carter has become. Practical to a fault, sometimes. "…I do it myself. But… we're not there yet." She murmurs quietly.
*
James nods, silently….and the hand made of flesh curves towards her, as if in a plea. "I'm not gonna kill anyone else," It's as much as promise to himself as to her. "Don't let me." Oh, Peggy. As if she doesn't already have enough of a burden on her shoulders.
*
The hand gets a look for a few wary heartbeats. Can she trust it? Peggy knows grabbing his hand is a bigger risk than anything else she's done tonight. But, after a moment, she reaches her own soft, slightly swollen hand down to his and gives a warm, protective sort of squeeze. "We're doing our best, Buck. But you have to fight with us. Keep fighting that part of you back every day, alright? Together… we'll figure this out."
*
There's a collective holding of breath amongst the SHIELD agents in the hallway…and then a cascade of scolding whispers in her earpiece. A Greek chorus of politer versions of 'For the love of Christ, don't touch him, Director'. But the Soldier's subdued enough that his hand doesn't tighten back beyond a reply, conspiratorial, gentle….not the terrible strength he exerts when his alter ego's in control. "Right," he says, simply.
*
Another, gentle squeeze of her fingertips, Peggy entirely ignoring the whispers in her ear piece. She gives him a faint smile, "I'm going to go try to get Steve again, alright? I know you've rested enough but… perhaps try a bit more. And think if there is anyone else you'd like to see. Anything you need. I… I'll do my best to make this not hell." Peggy means that. One last touch of fingertips and she lets go, turning to move away.
*
"There's this guy," he says, suddenly. "Name's Kai. He's this hipster waiter…..but he was good to me. Please make sure he's okay?" What Kai is and what he does….well, some secrets aren't his to give. He rattles off Kai's address.
*
That makes Peggy's brow arch, "Kai? Hispter… waiter…" Peggy states, half amused and deadpanned. She gives a small nod, mentally noting the address, "We will be certain he is alright, then. We can do that. Anyone else?" Peggy asks from the door, but she is readying to go. She has risked enough time.
*
Rogue…..he's got no address for her. Nothing fixed, but a name. And there are a lot of redheads to trouble him, past, present, future. So her he leaves out for now. "No. Just him." She's right. There's that sense of him fading, not into sleep, but things phasing. Just the look in his eyes, but it's enough to have one of the more antsy agents frankly reach in and drag Peggy out, as if the Soldier were a zoo tiger at feeding time.
*