1633/Different from the Last Time

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Different from the Last Time
Date of Scene: 12 May 2020
Location: Medical Ward: Triskelion
Synopsis: Bucky and Peggy meet, by chance, in the hallway of the medical ward. Apologies come with tears, reassurances, and a wonderful introduction to a little lady named Lili.
Cast of Characters: James Barnes, Peggy Carter




James Barnes has posed:
He knows she's alive. He knows she's there. But what Buck does not know is that she's up and walking. Because, let's be honest, he wouldn't be brave enough to be there like he is, walking down the hall with his dog.

That's exactly what he's doing, in fact. James is dressed in a plain gray t-shirt, dark jeans, boots....and the metal arm is covered with a compression sleeve in a color meant to approximate his skintone, and a black glove. His hair is long, past his shoulders, and tied off in a neat tail....and at his right side heels a big German Shepherd, with fur of honey gold and black. His expression is somber, but it's identifiably Sergeant Barnes.....and if she looks at those pale eyes, she's seen them above a mask, many a time. He's heading for one of the exam rooms, clearly not looking forward to the visit.

Peggy Carter has posed:
One last major round of tests earlier in the day and, finally, Peggy was given some freedom. It's minor freedom, no more clean room and the permission to walk to physical therapy if she was feeling up to it. She's still under some severe monitoring, a 'smart bracelet' in place around her upper arm where there was the least bit of bruising and those horrid, radiation-like damage patches of her skin, but after thirty years in a tube and a week in a bed, the permission to walk the hallways feels like a glorious gift. But, it's still slow going.

She's using a cane they offered her, something rather sleek looking in black with a tripod at the end to help give a bit more steady support, but it's better than leaning on the wall. She just manages the door herself and turns out into the hall, not quite looking his direction yet as she considers the tablet on the wall across from her. It was a directory. It wasn't the kind of directory she'd ever seen before. Interactive but sleeping right now, it's not giving her the information she needs to get down to the therapy room. Standing there, from this distance, she might look very much like her old self other than the fact she's in an unremarkable set of SHIELD sweats instead of her normal suit. Closer, however, Steve wasn't joking that she looks like tissue paper. She's lost muscle mass and some hair, wth a few faint, raw patches of skin in areas where her flesh is visible. The bruising at her collarbones has faded to mostly yellow, but it's still there too. She holds herself just a touch too shakily, like the act of standing was a fight. But she wasn't one to give up fights.

"...Bloody hell... Computer... where is the therapy room?" She asks of the display. And it does come on! Alright, that was a step in the right direction.

James Barnes has posed:
He holds himself still as if *he* were the fragile one. But the distress is palpable enough that the dog noses under his hand, soliciting touch, and he buries his his fingers in the thick fur of her ruff. Lips thinned out into a bloodless line, nostrils flared, color mostly bled out of his face. Because....he's responsible for her being like that. At least somewhat. Buck's throat works once, and his lips part, but he doesn't speak. Not immediately.

It takes him a few heartbeats, in fact, to be able to. And when he does, it's a ridiculous little croak. "Peggy?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
A fairly quick study, even if technology has come much further than her time in the 80s, Peggy's fingertips carefully reach out to start navigating the map on the directory. It's not until that voice comes behind her, a voice that should be impossible to be there, that she completely forgets what she was doing. Her hand freezes, something instinctive kicking in, a momentary defensiveness because she knows the last place she saw a suspected James Barnes. But he never spoke. At least, never gently. There was never recognition in his eyes except that one, single time. Her head turns slowly, too-pale face completely in his direction now as she stares him over.

If she didn't know that voice, she'd probably not recognize him immediately, so much of his look has changed. But she knew that voice, and those eyes, and something tightens in her throat. A flicker of confusion crosses her dark gaze and her too-pale lips press into a line against the emotions which threaten to escape. It's all strange, horrid puzzle. Finally, she breathes out a soft, confused, "...James?" Not Lieutenant Barnes. Not Bucky. Not Winter Solider. His *name*. James. In the way that only Peggy Carter has ever said it, that warmly familiar British intonation behind her shallowed breathed syllables.

James Barnes has posed:
It's like one of those perspective illusions: is it two faces in profile, or a vase? A young woman looking away, or an old-woman in three-quarter view. It's this stranger - one with pounds more muscle and broader shoulders, absurdly long hair, and those grim, haunted eyes. But it's Bucky, too, Steve's laughing, flirtatious companion that he spent months mourning. Clown and foil and side-kick, aspiring cartoonist, and an accomplished killer before HYDRA ever touched him.

Only a stone-cold assassin shouldn't be pressing his lips together to keep them from trembling.....shouldn't have his dog in her vest leaning against him to comfort him. He nods, finally. "Yeah, Peggy, it's me," he says, and his voice is fissured, threatening to break.

Peggy Carter has posed:
Peggy might be exhausted, trying legs for the first day in a week or in 30 years, depending on who you ask. She might be a bit overwhelmed by the whole of the world, but she's still Margaret Carter. She's still an expert on reading people and knew every one of her 'boys', the ones that worked for the SSR, Steve's hand picked team, she knew them like the back of her hand. As much as she knows that the man before her is what has become of James Barnes, she also knows he's incredibly different. And hurting, probably a bit lost, the edge of a crack in his voice tightening her own throat with sympathy. She knew what it was to be overwhelmed and lost.

She just didn't know how he was *here*. Or why.

But, it doesn't matter. She turns gently on her cane, moving down the hall as quick as strength will allow. It's not very fast, but her free hand reaches out, fingertips open, gentle, wanting to touch but also somehow scared she might break him. This close, she still looks like hell. Her gaze is sunken, features exhausted and paper thin. There's barely any color to her normally scarlet mouth. But she's up and moving. It's a good sign. "It... it's alright. I'm here too. The world is strange, and I'm here... and Steve is... I think he is too. I don't think it was a dream. But it'll will be alright."

James Barnes has posed:
Big tough assassins are *definitely* not supposed to tear up when their victims show every sign of forgiving and comforting them. This one, however, does. He doesn't break down into sobs or start bawling....but the tears do spill over, for all that immobility of expression. "Peggy," he says, yet again, and it's still wobbly. "I.....Steve is here. He's alive and okay, too. He saved me. HYDRA had me. They found me after I fell and they had me all that time. They made me....they made me this. They used me to kill and hurt people....including *you*." The worlds tumble out, a confession he can't stopper up. "I'm *sorry*."

The dog's panting, licking his hand occasionally....and he finally dares to stop petting her in favor of letting Peggy take his hand, curling his fingers around hers, gently. It's his human hand - he hasn't raised the other one at all.

Peggy Carter has posed:
Brown eyes flicker downwards, trying to take all of him in as she finally makes it to his side. Her breath is a touch shallow, that having been the farthest she's travelled since she got release orders. It's going to be an uphill battle until she's back in fighting shape, but it seems she's already started to fight it. She doesn't force her touch on him, not certain if daring to make contact would be the thing that pushes him over, but fingertips hover closer as she sees those tears start to break free. She shakes her head slowly, nothing but forgiveness and heartsick worry in her eyes.

"I... I know. Or, at least, I thought I knew. There was that one time where I said your name. You stopped... just a moment. But I knew it was you. I tried to tell SHIELD, send search teams, but we were always understaffed. Hell, James, I... I tried. I'm *sorry*." And perhaps a line of guilt in her eyes too. Another person she looked for and couldn't save. But there seems not a single hint that she holds it against him in the least. When his fingertips finally wrap across her clammy, too-cool palm, she exhales a breath she didn't realize she was slightly holding, a fresh line of moisture just barely held back by her lashes. "Y-you... You look good. Your... hair... " She gives the faintest of breathless, little laughs.

James Barnes has posed:
He laughs a ridiculous, snuffling laugh at that. "I know, right? See, I ....I can't really bear people touching my head, these days. I keep putting off getting a haircut. Silly, huh? I should do somethin', go to a barber, or see if one'll do housecalls....." Then he's pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket, wiping impatiently at his eyes, sniffing again.

"I know. That's what stopped me, honestly. You saying my name made.....it was like a crack in the wall. For a second, I was me again." That moment of hesitation that saved her. The blank, confused look in his eyes, such a contrast to the previous chill dispassion. "Turns out all that work Zola did on me took. I'm not as ....as redone as Steve, but...it let me survive."

Peggy Carter has posed:
An actual handkerchief. She hasn't seen one of those in about ten years, other than in Howard's suit pockets on occasion. It brings a ghost of a smile to her pale face, lost in some nostalgia for just a heartbeat or two. It helps hold back that dam of guilt that threatens in her chest, as he confirms all her suspicions she had over those years. Maybe if she had hunted more, fought a bit harder... She shakes off the thought with an unsteady breath, leaning hard against her cane now.

"It's... awful. What they did to you was awful and I don't know that I'll forgive myself for... for not getting you out." Or not getting *him* out. "But, I'm g-glad... Glad Steve did. If it takes time to come back to yourself... well..." She looks down, smiling a bit as she catches sight of that beautiful dog for a moment, but she doens't touch, respecting the vest too much. Besides, she was trying to look at herself. She felt like a skeleton in compare to who she was. "...I think I understand how much... time it will take to get back to who you want to be."

James Barnes has posed:
HE offers it to her, wordlessly, grinning a little. "I know," he says, as if he can read her thought. "I don't get this paper tissue thing. Why keep cutting down perfectly good trees when a pack of these'll last your years and you can just keep washing 'em?"

Then he's shaking his head. "It's....it wasn't on you, Peg. Just like I keep telling myself the things they used me to do are on them. I have to....have to keep letting that go." He nods. "I been free nearly a year, and I'm slowly putting pieces back together." His gaze follows hers to Lili, and his smile is proud. "That's Lili. Steve got her for me. They use dogs now to help all kinds of problems, not just people who can't see. She...she stops nightmares, and she brings me out of myself, when things get really bad. That's what she's trained for - they call it PTSD now, but it's combat fatigue, just a permanent case. Crazy, huh?"

Peggy Carter has posed:
Peggy is managing to keep her own tears back, though it's not an easy fight. Feeling more fragile than glass, she doesn't dare let herself fall apart emotionally. It was bad enough that anyone had to see her like this physically. Just another tight breath to keep things all under wrap, and she looks back to his handsome, too-familiar eyes. It had been decades, but she'd never forgotten him.

"That's... a good reminder. I'll probably need it again but you aren't wrong. And we're not changing the past. It's a bloody miracle we're all here, now... It seems impossible..." She exhales quietly, the tone behind her voice still just on the edge of overwhelmed. It wasn't a dream. He's here, Steve's here, they're all *alive*. The dog helps, a lovely distraction from that mountain of emotions she's trying not to let topple. "Lili? She's beautiful. And... of course Steve did. They were training dogs for certain things when I disappeared but... never shell shock. I'm glad they've come even a longer way. And she seems a very... Steve gift." That makes her smile, sweet and sad.

James Barnes has posed:
"Listen, am I....should you even be outta bed?" he asks, after a beat or so too long gazing at her. He lifts the hankie again, proffering it once more. "I mean, I heard that the time under was hard on you. Should we go sit somewhere or...." James trails off.

Aware she's being talked about, Lili's waving her tail. "Right? I never woulda thought to get one, but turns out a lot of the guys back from the Middle East need this kind of help, too. She's a godsend. She makes it a lot more....possible for me to....to kind of deal with people."

Peggy Carter has posed:
"I..." The hesitation probably gives her away. No, she shouldn't really be out of bed, not this long. But Peggy is forever awful at admitting weakness, "I was just attempting to find the therapy room. I will, apparently, be living there for the next several weeks. It couldn't be that far a walk." But her frail form has the stiffness of someone who is using every last ounce of muscle and strength to remain simply upwards on that cane. It's a horribly British posture, all weakness pinned back by the finest line of straight spine and even shoulders.

"She's an excellent agent, then, and clearly does her duty excellently. And is very pretty." The dog is a far better thing to concentrate on then the admission of how close to death Peggy had came, or how awful she feels now. An exhausted, but earnest smile is given down in the dog's direction, wagging tail a reassurance beyond words. "Well, Miss Lili. I'm Margaret Carter and...thank you for giving good care to my friend."

James Barnes has posed:
"Here," he says, maneuvering Lili to his other side, and offering her his arm. "I'll walk you down there. I know where it is," Buck says, with a little smile. "Yeah, she's my good girl." Well aware she's being praised, she waves her tail and smiles up at them.

Peggy Carter has posed:
Other words are hard, especially while walking. It's embarrassing getting breathless this fast. But Peggy dares to let herself lean slightly against him, the warmth of his frame reassuring in a way that no words would be. She still felt so damn cold. She leans in tightly and makes the way down to the therapy room where a rather surprised therapist does take charge of her with a lecture about being up quite so fast, and some profuse thanks to Barnes.