[ It's personal. He knows this at once, and accepts it with a shrug. What he knows of the two now line up neatly — names, dates, what they give him will be pieced together. Bruce always solves the puzzle, in the end. ]
I'm learning to share. [ Look at him, being funny. ] Anyone you have in mind?
[ A quick, subtle thing. Like so much else — they live for the details. ]
[ Bruce heads over to the small kitchen, for two mugs of tea. It's not a trap. ]
I noticed.
[ He had guessed it would be, like anything he would create. Hasn't taken the risk without access to a burner. Bruce is intelligent, but he doesn't discount the idea of a cyborg. He's not going in unprepared. ]
[ Watching his movements, recognizing the gait. Muscles suffering decades of exhaustion; bones steeped in such vigilance the exhaustion doesn't stand a chance. How Bucky looks in a reflective glass window, sprinting down the streets of Bucharest. ]
I trust if you made the mistake of testing my limits, you'd regret it. And you'd know that.
[ There are some things he knows he wouldn't do — choice becomes habit, and Bruce resists certain changes. He doesn't like to be predictable, but understands and masters the ways in which he is. ]
I protect what's mine.
[And so do you. That's how deep the shadows go, but he's surprised to find a question among them. Are you one of mine?]
[ Not a could be or would be. He doesn't deal in those possibilities. One is, or one is not. ]
[ Bucky knows Foster doesn't need him to echo the sentiment. Cut from the same cloth, just sewn in different directions. The patterns collide easily enough. Unexpected, but a mercy. ]
You're not lucky. [ (An understatement he doesn't know the half of. One day.) He gestures his only hand between them. ] This works for a reason.
[ A silent reminder that hey, friend, take the reason away — the machine will shut down. Don't do it. Even if we know you won't.
[ (He's lucky, and so is Bucky. They're both not dead by each other's hands.) A mercy, the only mercy. He doesn't know what to build with this — Ana would. Bruce knows her too well by far to suggest she's naive to hold out trust for him like that. He's done some successful experiments. Holding out his heart and the truth of his soul for Diana. For Clark. ]
[ Maybe not with anyone else. ]
[ He brings the tea over and sits, nursing his. The machine functions perfectly because it's meant to, it's well and good, but Bruce isn't on that scale anymore. This is bigger than him, bigger than Gotham. ]
[ He doesn't drink. Not yet. Doesn't sit — not yet.
He moves to the window, pulls the shade back enough to get a view of the dirty, struggling crowds outside. Native, refugee, they blur together. One incalculable force to contend with.
He thinks about the mug in his hand. The weight of it, the warmth. What it means: offering it, and accepting it. ]
You mentioned teamwork, [ Bucky says, finally, and his eyes slide back to Friendly. ] I want to be on a team.
[ It has undercurrents. I want to be useful. I want to have people to rely on. I want to be reliable. I want a fight with meaning. So many, crammed into a few words, but Bucky was always economical. ]
[ It's with Diana's words that he says, quietly, ]
We can't stand alone, so we stand together.
[ He measures it out like an idle thought. It's everything but. ]
[ He's been in Diana's company often. There's an echo to those words that reminds him Friendly and the Princess came in a set.
A broken one. ]
One of yours is alone, now. [ Bucky takes a sip of the tea, keeping his eyes on Foster. ] I'm not designed to fill his shoes. [ A caveat. A careful reminder. ]
[ Two where there should be three on their coffee dates (of course he's watched). He thinks grief will come first, but it's guilt. Clark, alone, asleep, alive. ]
[ His fingers tighten on the mug. ]
You're not designed to fill anyone's shoes.
[ As though no cloud passed over him. There's no one like Clark, but that's not the point. The point is Bruce doesn't do replacements, he is not that man. ]
[ Corrupted. Twisted. Monstrous, he settles on that word because it's the one they share, but it says more about Bruce than it does about Bucky. ]
[ He's never seen a broken machine he couldn't fix or a poison his mind didn't wish to purge. But sometimes those things can't be weeded out, they grow, and all they can do is be tempered. ]
What do you want to be?
[ Same question, different context. Not a team, but as a person. He doesn't need an answer, he just wants that to take root, to be nourished if it's already there. ]
[ And everything possible. He nods, he can accept that even if he never understands it. Bruce finally drinks some of his tea, his posture conversational. They are both always prepared, but some of the tenseness has melted away. They could be lying. There's always that possibility. ]
[ But one monster to another, there's no need for intricacies. Teeth and claws will do. ]
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I'm learning to share. [ Look at him, being funny. ] Anyone you have in mind?
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Girl called Angel. Seems resourceful. Distributing an emoji app to the refugees.
[ Subtext: it's laced, clearly. ]
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[ Bruce heads over to the small kitchen, for two mugs of tea. It's not a trap. ]
I noticed.
[ He had guessed it would be, like anything he would create. Hasn't taken the risk without access to a burner. Bruce is intelligent, but he doesn't discount the idea of a cyborg. He's not going in unprepared. ]
Do you trust what I'd code for you?
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I trust if you made the mistake of testing my limits, you'd regret it. And you'd know that.
[ Concession enough? ]
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[ There are some things he knows he wouldn't do — choice becomes habit, and Bruce resists certain changes. He doesn't like to be predictable, but understands and masters the ways in which he is. ]
I protect what's mine.
[ And so do you. That's how deep the shadows go, but he's surprised to find a question among them. Are you one of mine? ]
[ Not a could be or would be. He doesn't deal in those possibilities. One is, or one is not. ]
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You're not lucky. [ (An understatement he doesn't know the half of. One day.) He gestures his only hand between them. ] This works for a reason.
[ A silent reminder that hey, friend, take the reason away — the machine will shut down. Don't do it. Even if we know you won't.
Who belongs to whom, exactly? ]
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[ Maybe not with anyone else. ]
[ He brings the tea over and sits, nursing his. The machine functions perfectly because it's meant to, it's well and good, but Bruce isn't on that scale anymore. This is bigger than him, bigger than Gotham. ]
What do you want to be?
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He moves to the window, pulls the shade back enough to get a view of the dirty, struggling crowds outside. Native, refugee, they blur together. One incalculable force to contend with.
He thinks about the mug in his hand. The weight of it, the warmth.
What it means: offering it, and accepting it. ]
You mentioned teamwork, [ Bucky says, finally, and his eyes slide back to Friendly. ] I want to be on a team.
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[ It's with Diana's words that he says, quietly, ]
We can't stand alone, so we stand together.
[ He measures it out like an idle thought. It's everything but. ]
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A broken one. ]
One of yours is alone, now. [ Bucky takes a sip of the tea, keeping his eyes on Foster. ] I'm not designed to fill his shoes. [ A caveat. A careful reminder. ]
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[ His fingers tighten on the mug. ]
You're not designed to fill anyone's shoes.
[ As though no cloud passed over him. There's no one like Clark, but that's not the point. The point is Bruce doesn't do replacements, he is not that man. ]
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I am designed, though. Even if the Natha removed some malware.
[ He places his mug down, leans forward, one elbow on his knee. ]
You understand, right.
[ Don't let your firewalls down. ]
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[ Everything malfunctions. Things fall. ]
I'm prepared.
[ The answer Bucky needs. Bruce has his own question, ]
I'm not the man who pulls you back.
[ They aren't that to each other — they can't be. So this best friend is his last resort. ]
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[ That's the simple answer. ]
His design is the same base code. I'm just the bootleg version.
[ A deformed splinter of the prototype. So flawed there was a recall issued. ]
That's how we manage.
[ That's how he handles me when I'm not myself. ]
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[ He's never seen a broken machine he couldn't fix or a poison his mind didn't wish to purge. But sometimes those things can't be weeded out, they grow, and all they can do is be tempered. ]
What do you want to be?
[ Same question, different context. Not a team, but as a person. He doesn't need an answer, he just wants that to take root, to be nourished if it's already there. ]
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[ Nothing much. Everything possible. ]
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[ And everything possible. He nods, he can accept that even if he never understands it. Bruce finally drinks some of his tea, his posture conversational. They are both always prepared, but some of the tenseness has melted away. They could be lying. There's always that possibility. ]
[ But one monster to another, there's no need for intricacies. Teeth and claws will do. ]
I started young, [ he says, in turn. ]