The price of freedom has always been high.

The Soldier stares, waiting for more memories waiting for something more. But nothing comes, the lack of understanding, the brief brushes with a history…the Soldier feels as though he is trying to grasp for wind.

The Soldier does not make a sound to express his frustration, he is eerily silent his head turning slightly as he hears the sound of voices in the distance and approaching foot steps. He moves to depart, he has no desire to be recaptured by HYDRA.

But the voice is familiar, the voice is–

The man on the bridge.

He is not alone.

Even the Soldier cannot leave in complete silence, he shifts slightly disturbing some of the rubble and silently but quickly begins to leave the ruined building.

lovemethemcoconuts:

Sam chuckled at Steve’s comment as he followed. “What are you going senile? You told me about polio yesterday. How many polio stories can you possibly have dude?” He joked clasping a hand on the other man’s shoulder.

A sudden shiver ran through his spine as he released his friend. Something was telling him that they weren’t alone.

For all his father tried, Sam was never a religious man. He didn’t believe in all the ‘cockamemebullshit’ about  guardian angels and devils and yadada. But spirits…ghosts…that was a different story. Ghosts were real, of that he was certain. And in a place like this there was bound to be a ton of them. It of course didn’t help that he was currently making jokes about a disease that probably wiped out a lot of them…Was it just him or was it getting a little colder?

He shook his head, regaining his jovial smile. The odds that some spirit wanted to tango with the likes of them was pretty low…still he couldn’t help but run his fingers over the gun on his left hip. Not that it’d be of any use against real ghosts but it could come in handy if a ghost of a different sort did show up…

“What about the barracks?”

supersoldierfrombrooklyn:

Steve mumbles something along the lines of “smartass” but changes direction towards the barracks anyways. “Probably the least likely to collapse on us, that’s for sure.”.

Really it was almost a miracle that the barracks had managed to remain upright after the effects of time and a missile had completely annihilated the armory. Something about it was a little ironic- usually it was the soldier taking the hits for the military, not the military taking one for the team. Okay, that was morbid- moving along.

“Are you setting yourself up for another polio lecture, or....” the super soldier glances over and notes that something is off about his friend but doesn’t comment. The place is kinda eerie and it wouldn’t be surprising if Sam had picked up on the crushing calm residing within the fence. 

“You offer a good deal there, Captain. Though how can you possibly believe whatever I might say when you know that I might as well be using lies instead of truths.” He gestures at the free space on the bench. “Also you might want to sit down if you do not want to draw more unnecessary attention.”

supersoldierfrombrooklyn:

Loki was taking him seriously here, which was a nice improvement from the er, silliness? that had occurred earlier. He also makes a good point, how would he trust him not to be lying? An  idea pops into his head as he takes a seat; doing his best to look as casual as possible and not like he’s essentially acting as an ambassador for the team.

Clint’s smile went calm, content. “Beer is always appreciated.” It would cement Steve’s welcome in the first few minutes. “It’s mostly people from the building, but sometimes Tasha or Katie drops by. It’s nice to…To be Clint Barton for a while instead of Hawkeye. Gotta imagine it would be a relief to put down the shield and just be Steve.” He shrugged, hoping he wasn’t overstepping.

There had to be a lot of pressure to live up to the legend of Captain America, a legend that warped and grew while he was on ice. Clint still had a hard time occasionally, sorting out the real Cap from the stories that spread like a massive game of telephone while he was asleep.

Clint pulled up to the front of Steve’s building. “Seriously, you’re welcome any time. Just…knock first? People have a tendency of breaking in.”

supersoldierfrombrooklyn:

Definitely not for the first time, Steve gets the sense that Clint gets it. Most people don’t really realize how stressful life can be when you’ve been made into  some sort of American icon- it makes every aspect of life something more complex than it needs to be. Maybe a day here and there where he could drop everything and just be Steve Rogers wasn’t a bad idea. 

“Yeah, that does  sound nice,” he chuckles as the car slows to a stop. Seat belt unbuckled, he gathers his shield and, once outside of the car, quirks a brow. “What the Hell kind of security system are you using Barton?”.

It’s a joke of course because seriously, only Clint would have regularly occurring break ins (more than likely from teammates than not). 

Then again …

“Actually …” He hesitated. “That might not be so bad.” At least if he knew what were the … less appropriate cats for her he could steer her away from them and try to coax her in to getting one of the more mild mannered of the felines.

“Okay I’ll look,” He said finally, getting back in to the car with Steve, settling himself in.

supersoldierfrombrooklyn:

“Completely your decision,” Steve nods, putting the car in drive. Luckily the shelter was nearby and it wouldn’t take longer than maybe seven minutes to get there. 

There’s a lull in conversation and for a few moments the super soldier doesn’t know what to say. Fighting a war and forming strategies? That was easy compared to the complexities of social situations. Besides, the army doesn’t exactly teach you to be less awkward of a human being; it teaches you how to shoot things. 

Maybe trying to apologize would be the right thing to do, but with his track record of making things worse, he’ll save that for another time. 

“Just think about where they’re coming from. They’ve only had each other for most of their lives. Every person they’ve let in has either died, hurt them or abandoned them. They’re waiting for us to do the same. They expect it and all we can do is keep proving them wrong. Eventually it’ll stop surprising them. But until then it’s gonna be like walking on eggshells.”

He shrugged. “Welcome. ‘Sides, Lucky likes you.” The dog poked his head up over the back seat at his name and gave a little huff that sounded like approval.

They’d made it to Brooklyn now, the people on the streets slowly shifting from a representative sample of humanity to a more homogenous skinny jean clad crowd.

“You know we live like two train stops apart, right? You should come over some time. We do rooftop barbecues most weekends. You’d be welcome to join.” He flashed a smile, genuinely glad that his gamble had paid off and no punches were thrown.

supersoldierfrombrooklyn:

He nods in understanding, making a mental note to keep that in mind. Sure, he’d always sorta gotten it but there’s a big difference between knowing something and practicing what you preach. 

The streets change around them gradually until Steve looks out the window to see the familiar scenery of Brooklyn, finding himself relieved that things hadn’t gone to hell yet again. He’s tense and still a little jumpy but all in all there’s a more positive view of tomorrow opening up, which is enough to keep him calm for now. 

Reaching an arm back to pet Lucky, he replies, “I didn’t know that, but that’d be great. I’ll bring the beer?”.

Emma gave a mischievous smile. “Oh, you’ve no idea.” She’d never met Tony Stark but something told her that she would be spending more time in his mind than actually speaking to him. The poster boy for the Avengers did not seem like the kind of man she would enjoy conversing with.

Her heart sank as the sign came into view. Oh, good Lord. It was more hideous than she could ever imagine. She nearly lost her breakfast at the mere sight. She couldn’t decide which piece was the most terrible. Was it the spray paint strewn across the signage? The obnoxiously large lottery banner above the entrance? Or was it the fact that there was a carbonated beverage refrigerator visible from the street? Her strides faltered for a moment.  I can’t go in there. I don’t believe they can even serve food in a place like that. This must be stopped. She looked up at the man beside her, concealing the pure dred she was feeling. No. She assured herself, clearing her throat.

“It looks lovely.” She managed through a forced smile as they entered. Oh God. How is it even worse? Her breath caught for a moment as inside she was having a panic attack. The colors made it look like some sort of horrific Christmas bar; mixing red, green and white. The tables, the tables werelinoleum. Could they even serve food on that? The booths were on top of each other. You might as well be having lunch with your neighbor. Had she been of a weaker will, she might have fainted.

Luckily, she was made of stronger things than that.  Frosts did not  walk away from a challenge. It was one meal. She could manage. Her stubbornness outweighed her fear. She refused to lose her own game. Luckily, it almostmade up for it when the man behind the bar greeted Steve warmly. There was no making up for his atrocious taste but it was rather endearing that he had brought her to what appeared to be one of his favorite places.

However, that thought was immediately replaced by anger when they were directed to “his table” right in front of the whole street. Now, not only was she very likely to get food poisoning from this disgusting basement calling itself a restaurant but she was also to be on display for the whole of New York to witness it. Still, she smiled charmingly as she nodded to the bartender. “I would hate to take your seat.” She joked lightly motioning for her companion to choose a cushion.  

Steve is completely oblivious to any discomfort being faced by his companion. Nothing about her body language indicates she’s against any of this, in any case. 

Entering the diner, the smell of fresh food assaults every sense. Originally it had been the smell of food that had attracted the freshly thawed American Icon to the place - burgers don’t just smell that amazing from any old corner cafe. Sure, the design choices were a little atrocious but it was flashy enough to get business, which was ultimately the goal. In any case, the friendly owners and the food itself made up for any qualms he could have with the place itself. 

Besides, if you’ve ever been in the military, you kinda learn that food is food no matter what the place you get it from is like.

Donnie greets him with the usual banter though refrains from stealing too much of Steve’s attention after spotting Emma. Still, a warm smile is on the manager’s face as he continues his work. 

“It doesn’t really matter,” the soldier chuckles and slips into the side more likely seen from the street. The sun might bother his companion and that would be at least a little rude. Besides, the warmth from the window is nice. Nostalgia hits as he flips open a menu and sudden;y he remembers the rare occasions when Bucky and himself could actually afford to eat at a restaurant. Usually it was authentic Italian because that was one of the bigger populations, but the feeling was the same: in good company, enveloped in the smell of good food and warm.

Annnd then the “old man” thought (so eloquently phrased by Darcy) passes by: People just don’t understand how lucky they are nowadays.

It didn’t work out so well.

He damn near toppled over carrying two on one shoulder and so he gave up. He’d outdo Steve in another way. Instead he put down the second bag and carried the first out to the car in the blink of an eye. Before Steve had made it out the door he was grabbing a second bag and dropping it off, and then a third, and so on. It was only after his tenth or so that he had to stop and take a breath.

Steve doesn’t even notice Pietro’s attempt to lift as much as himself, concentrating instead on carrying what he can out to the car. Thanks to the other man’s super speed, the job is done quickly (even if Pietro was wearing himself out to do so). It doesn’t take but maybe ten minutes tops to get everything loaded up.

Shrugging Loki casually looked around before turning his eyes back to Steve. ”You sound so sure,” he said. Well, this man’s methods were from the past, far from the ways Romanoff would use in situations like these. Oh how Rogers believed his words so easily. It was like fooling the guards of Asgard’s palace again.

Steve simply ignores the mention of mind control and focuses on the bigger problem here. “Just because I don’t think you’re here to be destructive doesn’t mean you’re off the hook. You’re still considered a threat on your own.”.

There was no point in beating around the bush here. 

“And if I had plans to kill Thor, don’t you think I would be doing that instead of sitting here and discussing with you?” Loki left the question there. An interrogation was something he had indeed missed, or not. But in the end, the Cap would have a problem: to believe or not to believe his words.

supersoldierfrombrooklyn:

Steve really wants to believe Loki’s lying and planning, but between the civilized conversation they were having and Thor’s stories of how Loki had even held a glimmer of resemblance to the brother he remembered it’s difficult to imagine any of this is false. “Fair enough; forgive me if I don’t exactly trust you or anything. After all, you did kinda try to kill me at one point.”.

He nodded his head because yes, at the end of the day that was what really mattered: Wanda. “Yeah … I guess.” He admitted. “That’s the priority.” He shifted a little in his seat, antsy from being in the car for so long (well, long for Pietro).

supersoldierfrombrooklyn:

To say the super soldier is relieved at the lack of confrontation in Pietro’s reply is an understatement;. He considers what else to say, though any reply is cut short by them arriving at the pet store. He parks and leads the way inside of the store, only for the woman at the desk to gesture to seventeen fifty pound bags of pet food and a couple large bags of other supplies including toys and collars.

it’s not that he couldn’t handle all of this on his own, just that it would go by a lot quicker with someone helping. Carrying more than four bags at a time was a struggle since they liked to slip. Glancing over to Pietro, he figures it’s better to warn him ahead of time.

Cap’s expression cooled Clint’s anger a little. He seemed to really feel bad.

Fuck. I made Captain America go all shame-face. I’m going to hell.

“Just go easy on him, ok? It’s not like they had  a good start of it… We weren’t all chosen for our courage and heart. Some of us are just trying to make the best of the hand we were dealt.” He shrugged and gunned it though a yellow light, merging into the far lane with a quick jerk of the wheel. Cap hasn’t reacted to his driving so far, so Clint doesn’t really feel the need to stop.

“I could have introduced you to the professor. Been working with him since after Loki… He’s good.” He didn’t look at Steve for a reaction. There were a couple weeks after the Battle of New York that they didn’t talk about and Clint was in no hurry to change that.

“Wanda’s trickier than Pietro. Pietro wants to be social, wants to be part of something. Wanda hasn’t decided. Just be honest with her, consistent. Apologize when you fuck up and try to do right by them. That’s really all I got.” He shrugged. “Oh, and don’t react when they try to bait you into fighting. You’ll just prove them right.”

supersoldierfrombrooklyn:

That was actually really helpful. Clint’s advice covers bases that Charles hadn’t and now he has a better idea of how to handle the situation. As for the topic of Clint’s association with the Professor, Steve keeps hiss face neutral, knowing that it wasn’t a topic open for discussion at the current moment. 

“I can do that. I really don’t want to keep butting heads, but it seems like everything else has other plans. I don’t know- I just really want to help. Thank you, by the way... for the pet therapy and the advice.”.

Well that was one way to say it. Pietro found himself momentarily silent. He watched the older man, arms folded over his chest. “Well that sucks …” He shrugged. He couldn’t quite deny that it was a good reasoning. But then again …

“Don’t all of us risk our lives though?” He pointed out. “I mean, Barton has his dog and he’s like a walking target sign.” He scoffed aloud. “Maybe it’s more of a reason to make sure not to get your ass killed or something.” He reminded. Then again that hadn’t stopped Barton in Sokovia.

“You’re advocating that Wanda get a cat and she risks her life being an Avenger.”

Pietro is making excellent points and the last comment is one Steve knows is heading towards confrontation of some sort. He remembers what Clint had told him in the car the other night, though, and decides he isn’t too worried over it. 

“Hadn’t thought of it that way. Maybe I’ll give it more thought at a later point in time, but I don’t think right now’s exactly the best time for it. Besides, I’ve never taken care of a cat or dog myself so I’d need to make sure I could give it a good home first,” he trails off, mentally preparing himself for the possible repercussions of his next statement. 

Loki gave a controlled laugh at Steve’s question, shaking his head a little and was already opening his mouth to answer but the Captain was quicker, this time. So instead Loki closed his mouth, raised his eyebrows and very clearly let his gaze wander over the soldier’s form again, just to make it more awkward for Steve.

“Well if it makes you comfortable, there are probably quite many Midgardians that like you said “check you out”, dear Captain,” he added, leaning against the bench. He tilted his head a little as the green eyes found their way to meet the blue ones.

“I am merely enjoying death. It’s been a while since I have gotten freedom or time to spend my day like this,” Loki gestured around himself. “And you made my day even better. Truly they didn’t teach you to speak when they injected the serum into you. Tsk.”

Why hasn’t the Earth opened up and just swallowed him whole already. This is not how he had imagined any of this going and God does he wish for literally anything but this. It’s too late though, he created this monster. 

Instead of acknowledging any bit of what awkwardness just transpired, Steve actively decides to omit it from conversation and to repress it from memory. Thankfully no one else was around to hear about this.

Obviously the good Captain was not going to let him help in any way. A wise choice, but this wasn’t over yet. It might or might not be Loki who Rogers was looking for but the man had been too much fun already and it would be a shame if their conversation would end so suddenly.

So as Steve turned away, apologizing politely and trying to leave, the corner of Loki’s mouth turned upward to form a smirk. The green eyes took in the man’s form in a second, eyes moving up and down without shame before he replied: “Despite you being a human, you would almost pass as an Asgardian, soldier,” he said loudly enough that the man would hear but that the other pedestrians would not. “That serum truly was a remarkable invention, wasn’t it,Captain Rogers?”

Loki’s eyes were shining with mischief as his signature smile rose onto his lips.

It had been said in the split second where one would make the decision to stay put or turn away, and it halted any action or thought that had been in progress withing his mind. Shit. And of course instead of having any sort of intelligent remark to throw back, he fumbles with his words to somehow come up with one of the worst replies ever.

“I should have kno- wait were you checking me out?”

Well, there went any chance of seeming like he knew what he was doing. Guess it just goes to show that they really don’t teach public speaking in the U.S army. At least with that, he’s back to fully functioning thought and, in case it wasn’t clear, has obviously pieced together who he’d been talking to this entire time.