ostavil | seeking a friend for the end of the world

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daisy johnson

seeking a friend for the end of the world

( The world is a shithole. Actually, that's putting it mildly, really, but Bucky's trying to be optimistic these days since there's nothing to be optimistic about anymore. As soon as the virus started spreading, he got his gear together and headed straight to the woods. Anything like this, you need to be as far from people as possible and he wasn't going to depend on his enhanced immune system to defend him from something like this. It changes people, rewrites them from the inside-out, and he's not sure that super serum can protect a person from that.

He tries to only go into populated areas for supplies and since he can hunt pretty well and survive on his own, supplies usually constitute bullets. On his last run, he'd gotten a compound bow out of a shelled-out sporting goods store and he's been looking for arrows ever since because what he can make in the woods isn't going to be strong enough for the draw on the thing. It's a white elephant right now but he's loathe to part with it. He does his runs at night when he can exploit the weaknesses of the totalitarian government that came into place after society disintegrated; dealing with scared soldiers with shoot-to-kill orders is not his idea of a good time.

It's a good run until he sees someone else and he touches his hand to the hilt of his knife just in case. Smaller person, doesn't move like one of the infected, clearly not military. An idiot. Fantastic. He tries to get the drop on them from behind. )

Either you've already gotten infected and aren't showing symptoms or you're a complete idiot. What are you doing out here? It's not safe.

( It's an understatement, really, the lack of safety and he almost laughs about it; two years ago, he might have been talking about a teenager sneaking out of their house at night and now it's not safe for anyone at any time of day. For this person to have survived this long, they're not completely stupid. He's closer now and he can see that it's a woman. )

I could have killed you or one of the patrols could have shot you without asking questions. What's worth those two outcomes?

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( Bucky follows her up the ladder and once they're up in the nest, he points out a few things. It's not a lot but he has an extra bedroll, food and first aid supplies, some pain pills and various medications, and a few indulgent things. He has books, as many as he can manage to scavenge and he has a record player. )

It's not much but it's home. You're welcome to stay as long as you want. You're safer here than in any of the QZs and hunters aren't going to get out here to us. If they do, well. I know what I'm doing with a gun.

( He softens a bit. )

Is there anything you need right now?

[ It's actually kind of cozy, all things considered, and certainly a hell of a lot better than the van she'd lived in for years. Not that she'd ever say that aloud — she'd loved that van, it was the closest she'd ever come to a home until she found SHIELD. But this place... It could be a home.

Thinking of it that way isn't an option for her, though. She has to remember all of this is just temporary.

Shrugging off her bag, she carefully sets it on the floor, looking around the room with tired wariness. After a moment, she shakes her head, feeling every bit like she's just lost her entire world. Will she ever see her family again? She couldn't have stayed in the QZ, but now that she's gone, who will protect them? ]

No, I don't need anything. I think I'm... I'm still just processing, you know?

( Daisy looks lost, shell-shocked in the way a soldier looks when he returns home with half his weight and twice the baggage. He hasn't been affected by these things or run down by life because he spent so long as the soldier but normal people - normal people get hurt by this. He's been out here for a long time without anyone or needing anyone but now he thinks he needed a friend and maybe Daisy can be that.

It's been a long time since he had a friend. )

Yeah, sure. It's a lot to process. I'm not gonna ask you to talk about it. Before everything went to hell, I was in therapy, right? And she always wanted me to talk about shit and I don't process that way. I don't open up to someone because they tell me to do it. I write instead.

( He motions to a stack of journals. He's been keeping them since before all of this, since he was a man trying to piece together the broken fragments of his past. There's years of him in those journals, every emotion, and he'll keep stealing notebooks until he can't hold a pencil anymore. )

[ That stack of notebooks is a healthier way of coping with trauma than she's ever managed. She'd kept a notebook after Lincoln died, but it wasn't to process her grief, it was to plan her penance. A few years ago, she'd burned that book, watching the pages curl within the flames as she mourned yet another loss.

Death follows her wherever she goes. Maybe that's why it's not safe for her to be with Bucky. ]

I've been to therapy before. A lot, actually. [ Crouching down, she sits cross-legged next to her bag. ] Growing up in the foster system, I saw a different one every other year. It never helped. It didn't help when I joined SHIELD, either — there's just so much that's happened that no one could understand.

[ Over the years, she's picked up a few skills in self-analysis, though. So while she might avoid dealing with a lot of her own trauma and issues, she at least is aware enough to usually identify them, and she can pretend that counts for something. ]

We didn't have fostering back then. It was all orphanages. I was lucky, though. We were poor but I had a good family. We all loved one another and there was Steve, too. Even when I didn't have two nickels to my name, I had Steve and he had me.

( It's hard to think about, Steve, but he powers through it anyway because as much as he misses him, he's glad that Steve didn't have to live in the world like this. He's glad that Steve got to live a different life. )

When you're like us, nobody can understand what you go through. We're different. We're not even like the rest of SHIELD because we're not...you're an Inhuman and I'm something that isn't supposed to exist. We'll never be able to stand side by side with the rest of humanity and feel like we fit.

[ She envies him the family who loved him and the best friend who would and had done anything for him. For twenty-five years, Daisy had lived without either of those, and now that she finally has them, it's a searing pain to think they may have been ripped away from her. They've faced the end of the world before, more than once, and it seems so very unfair that now is when they finally lose. ]

There used to be a home for Inhumans called Afterlife. It was just us there, and no one from the outside world knew where it was. We were safe there...

[ Frowning sadly, she moves her bag into her lap, opening it up and half-heartedly examining the contents. ]

But I was an outsider there, too. I didn't follow the same steps everyone else did to get my powers, and no one knew who I really was. SHIELD was the only place I ever felt accepted.

And now your home is gone. I'm sorry. I know being out here in the woods with me is hardly the same but you've got a place for as long as you want it. I'm not going anywhere and I'm notoriously hard to kill. I've got your back, Daisy.

( Bucky doesn't know if it's the right thing to say but sometimes the genuine thing is more right than the thing that will make a person feel better. He's not about white lies or cushioning feelings, not anymore, and he feels like being honest with Daisy is a good policy. )

That is, if you can put up with a 106 year old man and his old man habits. I'm a history book, after all.

[ It is nice to hear all of that, though she wishes she were in a better place to properly respond to it. He's being so incredibly kind and she's just barely holding it together. She's not sure she deserves it, but she is grateful, which she shows through a slightly playful glance his way. ]

I think I can handle that. You know, you look pretty good for a senior citizen.

Yeah? I used to do swimming at the Y but you know, all that stuff's gone now so I have to get my exercise by running around and rescuing fair maidens. It's good for the soul.

( Bucky grins at her and honestly, he's so glad for the company. He might act like he needs no one but he does and this is nice. )

We could embark on an intense training regimen where we go steal shit at night and shoot infected during the day.

[ Daisy's torn between wishing she was alone to face her grief and the sudden shock of change and being glad she isn't. It isn't safe for her to be on her own out here — but it isn't safe for her to be with him either. The whole thing is confusing and frustrating and so... ]

Well, I guess we'll have to do something to pass the time. We can't exactly go to the movies.

[ Or anything else normal people used to do to pass the time. Whatever those things were. ]

Next time we go steal stuff, lets find some cards. I never got them before because I figured solitaire was a waste of my time but with you here, we could actually do something.

( When people made prep lists for the end of the world before the end of the world was a thing, they never mentioned things like music or books or playing cards. It was always stuff like food, ammo, fuel - things you need to survive. But is it living if you're just surviving? Is there life without something to break the tedium? Bucky doesn't think so. )

If nothing else, I can tell you all the things you didn't learn in history class. That'll get you through a month or two.

[ Daisy sorts through some of the things in the pack Coulson gave her. No clothes, there wasn't time for him to grab anything from her room, so it's just standard supplies with some extras thrown in. She holds one of the white pill bottles in her hand, feeling the shifting tablets within. ]

I didn't just learn about you in history class. At least, not just the ones in school. Coulson told us stories all the time during my first year with SHIELD, and then after HYDRA... We talked about you sometimes. What we knew about what happened to you. [ She doesn't look at him as she admits the next. ] I couldn't read all the files we found.

( SHIELD would have files on him. He'd been a ghost story for a long time, sure, but when SHIELD reformed after HYDRA had been rooted out, a lot of files that had been hidden suddenly opened up again. There's information on him that isn't public knowledge but it would be accessible to a SHIELD agent and, depending on the clearance, it might not be information he'd want out. )

They were in Russian, I bet. Or you mean you didn't have clearance? I know there's intel on me that was HYDRA eyes only. Things about...how they tested on me, what poisons and what drugs. What kills I made. What other things I had to do.

( He scrubs at the plates in his left hand in absence of anything else to do. He's never been much of a fidgeter but this is a hard thing to talk about. )

Pimped out to any government or terrorist who wanted me, for the right price. Not such a hero to you anymore, am I?

[ Glancing up at him briefly, she notices the way he rubs at his hand and wonders if it's the usual way he expresses his discomfort. Everyone has their tells, even the best spies, and she'd rather learn his from the start so she knows when to back off and offer whatever he needs, be it space or comfort. She'll need to learn that too. ]

Of course, you are. Growing up, you and the others were the stuff of comic books, but now that I know the monsters you faced and the horrors you survived, I understand how much you really deserve the title. Because look at you — still standing, still helping people.

[ She stuffs the pill bottle back into the backpack and pulls it up onto her lap, her hands gripping hold of it like it's a security blanket. He's not the only one who has things that are hard to talk about. ]

And I do understand. A little. More than most. What it's like to be used by someone who only sees you as a tool... to have your mind rewritten so you don't fight it.

Wouldn't wish it on anyone. Sorry that it happened to you, Daisy. HYDRA, I'm assuming?

( They aren't the only ones who could do such a thing, no, but he knows that HYDRA was in SHIELD so deeply that when it all came down, there was a good three out of four agents that weren't trying to protect the interests of the people over the interests of HYDRA. )

They're pieces of shit. Of course, the government in general is a piece of shit right now and they don't even need the help of HYDRA.

HYDRA destroyed my family.

[ This shouldn't be hard to talk about, she's told this story a lot more than the other one, but it all just... hurts. Everything hurts so much more than it should today. It's like her chest is being pried apart while someone twists the knife in her heart. ]

I'll tell you everything about it if you want to know. I want to be an open book with you — it only seems fair when I know so much more about you than you do about me. I just... Not today. I can't talk about it today.

Don't ever have to talk about it if you don't want to. I'm not the kind of person to be into prying into personal lives. Mine isn't private and never will be unless you were born after the world went to shit but doesn't mean you don't have a right to your privacy. HYDRA took from you same as it took from me. That's all I need to know. If you ever wanna tell me more, you're welcome to.

( Bucky frowns at her in concern. Daisy looks shell-shocked and he knows it's been a hell of a day (night?) for her so he wants to see if he can comfort her somehow. He's not so good at that but he can offer what he has. )

Are you hungry?

[ It's nice of him to say all of that but it's not enough to change her mind, especially when he'll inevitably see the lasting results of all she's endured at the hands of HYDRA over the years. A bubble of panic threatens to break through the numb shock starting to set in and she's grateful for the change of subject even if she's not entirely sure what to do with it. ]

I, uhm... I don't know. [ She looks down at the bag again, though this time she hardly sees it. How long was she running before he'd found her? Hours, maybe? ] I should probably eat something.

Need to keep your calories up. Can't run away from shit if you're fainting from hunger. Here, let me get you something.

( Bucky has a stash of quick rations and he rifles through it and tosses over a protein bar and some jerky along with a thermos of clean water. He spends a good half his time working on water and making sure he has plenty of it to drink. He's grateful for all his paranoia now. )

We'll have something more substantial later when I cook but that should hold you over. I haven't checked my traps because I was raiding tonight. Didn't think I was bringing a partner back, though.

[ He's right. Keeping her calories up is something she has to worry about out here. At any moment, something could come upon them that they'd have to fight or run from, and there won't be a safe place to fall back to like there was in the quarantine zone. They don't have storerooms of shitty rations to rely on, only whatever they can scavenge or hunt. As many times as she'd gone on runs outside the walls, she hadn't been prepared for this.

Taking a bite of the protein bar that tastes like cardboard that sat next to a jar of peanut butter, she chews on auto-pilot, swallowing it down before speaking. ]

You can hunt and cook. I don't know how to do anything useful out here that you can't already handle yourself. [ Doubt and guilt well up inside her and she struggles to ride the familiar tide of it. ] I'm sorry about that. But I'm a fast learner.

You think I would have brought you with me if I thought you weren't worth the effort? I shoot people on sight most of the time because I don't want them telling their little friends who I am. I don't exactly have an unrecognizable face.

( Daisy should know, considering she'd spotted him on sight. People of a certain age are going to know exactly who he is and it's too dangerous to let them live to go back and tell the military or whoever that Bucky Barnes is ghosting around the QZ. He's got to live with it now. )

Bringing you back with me was my choice, not yours. I guess I've gotten soft in my old age.

[ Worth the effort. He hits the nail on the head with those words. Ever since she was a kid, she's had to worry about everyone around her in ways the average person doesn't. Will she be what they expected? And if she's not, will they reject her for it? Will they decide later she isn't worth the effort after all and regret wasting their time on her?

She's had to hide sides of herself to be what others wanted just so she could stay, and already she can feel those old tendencies rising up inside her. It will take a lot for her to even approach believing that it won't be an issue now, if it's even possible at all. ]

Yeah, I guess so. [ There's a strain to those words, though she manages a semblance of a smile for the next ones. ] The next step is creaky joints. You excited?

Know so. And yeah, I'm waiting to get my walker in from the VA. Don't even know if that exists anymore. Probably not. If you're alive in this bullshit, you're probably already walking wounded.

( Bucky studies her face in the low light and tries to decide if Daisy is the type to bolt in the middle of the night and rat on him. He decides she's not after a second. He believes her about being Inhuman and he believes her story about being tested on. She needs him. He might not need her here but he wants her here. )

You got any news with you? I don't get a lot of that because it's not my focus. Rebellions, shit like that?

[ Daisy is very much the type to bolt in the middle of the night, but not to rat on anyone. If she disappears into the darkness, it'll be out of fear and guilt, possibly even a misguided sense of needing to protect someone. The number of times she's sacrificed her own happiness because of feeling someone is better off without her is definitely well into double digits now.

She takes another bite of the bar and chews carefully while she thinks over his question. ]

Working on a cure is kind of the biggest thing lately, though the public doesn't know about it. Until there's actual progress, they don't want to give false hope — but people are starting to get desperate. Crime is on the rise, and there have been a few attempts by assholes to take control of the QZ. [ After a moment of silence, she continues quietly. ] It's not a perfect place, but we've heard some of the others are worse.

[ The murder and dissection of Inhumans notwithstanding, of course. That singular event is threatening to change her entire opinion of the system and she's not sure how to cope with that. ]

Better than the places controlled by criminals. Although I guess I'm technically a criminal by the definitions set down by our wonderful Federal Government.

( Bucky watches her, taking in every movement. Daisy seems shaken but resilient, the kind of person who takes a hit and keeps on going. He doesn't feel like he's made a mistake bringing her here and he's going to trust his gut until he has a reason to turn on that intuition. As it is, he doesn't think she's done anything but tell him the truth and it will be helpful to have someone else. )

I thought about going up into the mountains in West Virginia? I figured it was emptier up there and I would be dealing more with stragglers and the lone human than hordes of infected. There's no QZ close, though, and the winters are harder than they are here closer to DC. We get snow here, sure, but it's nothing like what I'd get up there. I'm kind of glad I didn't move camp. If we move now, it'll be both of us. I'll get you outfitted in weapons tomorrow. Tonight, though...you want to listen to some music? I managed to steal a record player and some records. You can go pick.

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