"There's something we don't know." Bucky said, almost as soon as the lawyers had left.
"What do you mean?" Steve asked.
"Murdock more than Nelson. There's something we don't know."
"You think he's HYDRA? Doesn't exactly go with the physical perfection thing to keep a blind man."
"No, but…" Bucky hesitated. "I think he's dangerous, in some way we don't really understand. Whether that's to us or… Do you ever just get that read off someone that you need to keep one eye on them."
"I kind of know what you mean." Romanoff said. "I think it's just contrast to Nelson and being a little star-struck. Nelson did most of the talking the first time I met them too."
.
"So this is it." Steve said. "Bathroom's on the right, bedroom's there, I figured we take turns on the camp bed." Steve didn't know where Romanoff had got it. He hadn't asked.
"Bit of an upgrade." Bucky said, dropping his bag off his shoulder. "From the last time I was round your house."
"Well, you'd think after seventy years and a… solid career in the military-" Bucky gave him a look "-I'd have made my way up in the world a bit."
"It is crazy though." Bucky said. "Everyone has indoor water now, everyone has at least one TV, before you even get in to the handheld ones."
"Did they keep you tech-savvy."
"Yeah, stealing intel, so… Did you pick this stuff?"
"No, came furnished. I've barely lived here. I figured I needed to move after SHIELD went down. They'd planted an agent across the hall from me, and they didn't even tell me, so…"
"He was HYDRA?"
"Actually she wasn't."
Bucky kept walking in to the third room of the flat, which served as kitchen, diner, and living. "Even you have a TV."
"Came with the apartment. Licence is paid, not cable. Apparently, you used to be able to rent films on tape, like they used to have in the theatres, to watch at home, but that's discs now, and even that's dying off. Figure out the cupboards in here, I'll empty a drawer out for your stuff." Bucky wouldn't need much space. Nat had gone to a supermarket and bought him three T-shirts, a sweater, two pairs of pants, five pairs of underpants, and ten socks. That was it. He had the boots he'd been wearing when he'd been captured. Getting more would mean finding gloves to hide the metal hand, and taking Bucky out in public. Which made Steve apprehensive. The only things that had set Bucky off in Stark Tower had been fireworks, having the arm messed with, and any suggestion of medical treatment, but there was a lot Bucky hadn't come up close to yet. Steve guessed he'd just have to watch Bucky like a hawk and bring The Soldier in close if that happened.
He heard a voice from the other room. Not Bucky's. Steve froze for a heartbeat. No, the voice was thin, it was coming from the TV. Bucky'd figured out how to turn it on. And, by the sound of it, he was flipping channels.
"Hey Steve, Stark's on."
"What?"
"Stark's on the TV. On a chat show."
"Who taught you what a chat show is?" Steve asked, walking back towards the TV. Sure enough, Stark was sitting in an armchair, opposite a well groomed man at a desk. A studio audience's clapping was just falling silent.
"I do have something to talk about, Timmy." Stark said. "And I do have something I want to ask the people of America for help with."
"So go ahead, Tony." The host said.
"So, I guess this story starts with my revelation five or six years ago that I wanted to use Stark Tech to build things other than weapons, and spend the rest of my working life sort of… fixing the damage I did making weapons. I guess this is my most direct attempt to do that."
"So what are you attempting to do?"
"Well, I've said before that the Iron Man suit, and all the stuff that goes with that, is, at its core, prosthesis. And we're working on support gear that gives more power and focus to movement – using the same ideas that let me fight space whales to let MS sufferers stand up and walk for a little longer, but that's old news. The R 'nd D on that stuff is all done, it's just about figuring out the logistics of getting out to people. No. What I'm here to talk about now is very radical prosthesis. Not supporting limbs, replacing them. The vision here isn't just… prosthetic legs that you can walk around the park with and prosthetic arms that you can drink coffee with. We're talking legs that can do parkour and break dancing, hands that can paint and play piano."
"Son of a bitch." Steve breathed.
"We're aiming for perfect neurological control fully integrated into the patient. So I'm here tonight, calling out for patients." Stark turned to the camera like he was on an infomercial. "If you are out there tonight and you've lost a limb in the past five years, and you want better than current prosthesis can offer you, go to /development/nextgen, there's a big red button that says 'apply', just fill that form out."
"And that's it? That easy?"
"That easy." Stark sat back. "My CEO would like me to say that we'll be prioritising military vets right now-"
Bucky flexed his left arm. "Figures."
"-and we'll only be taking adults right now."
"Why's that?"
Stark sighed and waved a hand. "You know I'd love to do this for the kids, and I know there are lots of really brave little soldiers out there who've lost limbs, but we're keeping things simple to start, and kids do tend to grow, and that complicates prosthetics."
Steve stood up and moved away from the TV.
"What?" Bucky asked.
"You know where he got that tech, right?"
Bucky flexed his fingers. "Does it bother you?"
"Does it not bother you?"
"It's HYDRA's work, not mine. I've got no issue with stealing from them. And I figure it does me a favour."
"Why?"
"If there are twenty guys walking around New York with fully articulated metal arms…"
.
"On your left."
"On your right."
"To hell with both of you!" Sam shouted at Steve and Bucky's backs. It was still dark enough that the streetlights were on, Bucky was wearing long sleeves and gloves to hide the metal. It felt safe enough. Steve wasn't really pushing himself. He was keeping pace with Bucky. Bucky could really sprint, but his stamina wasn't quite as good as Steve's. They were both lapping Sam easily enough though.
They stopped a little after sunrise, when the dog walkers were coming out in force. There were a few cops out, but nobody seemed to pay the three of them any mind as they walked off and stretched.
"Anyone got fun weekend plans?" Sam asked.
"Most everyone I know is dead or trying to kill me." Bucky said. "Tasha and Barton are doing their best to re-educate me."
"Barton has a protocol for introducing people to modern American culture." Steve said. "We were going to do The Godfather and Dr No this weekend. We're under orders not to touch Star Wars until Barton's around to see it."
Sam came out of his stretch and looked at Steve sternly. "You've seen Star Wars though, right?"
"Yeah, I know… about that." Steve said. Bucky gave him a dirty look.
"So where's Barton?" Sam asked.
"Fishing." Bucky said, with a completely straight face.
Sam frowned at him.
"For fish with lots of heads." Bucky added. "Fish that grow more if you cut them…"
"Gotcha." Sam said.
"He's creeping round small towns in East Pennsylvania, with one hand wrapped in tin foil, looking shifty. Trying to generate chatter."
"Did you see Stark's thing about prosthetics?"
"Yeah, that's where we got the idea."
"Huh. Well, let me know if you're going anywhere."
"Wanna join us for The Godfather later?"
Sam hesitated. "Yeah. I'm not doing anything. What time?"
So what's with the lawyers? Or is Bucky just paranoid?
