5. Stupid is as Stupid Does
Bucky,
Thank God I didn't bet Fury more than ten bucks. Or thank gods. I don't even know anymore. We may have tried to keep ourselves from giggling through mass, and may have gotten the stink eye from more than a few nuns. But for the most part I came out of that all understanding that there was one God. There's still God. But remember all of those old Norse myths Schmidt was on about? Remember how he said the Tesseract used to belong in Odin's throne room? I thought it was all bullshit (yes, I know, language, but after what I've been through today I'm entitled). I thought it was madness made madder by the effects of the serum on Schmidt's brain.
I never really knew or asked what the Tesseract was. Come to think of it, I didn't remember it was even called the Tesseract until Fury showed me the file.
It's not just an energy source. It's not even of our world, and that's what's so hard to wrap my mind around. If it's not of our world, what world is it from? If there's another world, does that mean we're not alone? I have more questions than answers. Except to the last one. We are not alone. Loki isn't some terrorist or dictator-though I think he fashions himself as one. He's Loki. Norse god of tricks. And he's in the brig of this air-boat as I write. Loki's brother Thor is on the bridge conversing with Fury and Phil. Phil seemed glad to see him. Even greeted him like an old friend. I think I'm going slightly mad. Remember when we sneaked your dad's good scotch that time? You thought the room was spinning. I did too, and then I couldn't stop throwing up. I kind of feel like that right now, just less vomiting. Thank God. Or gods. I don't know anymore.
Howard's son Anthony is on board with us now as well. He's so much like Howard: always thinking, always observing, mind never stopping. He's brilliant like his father, but he's also harder. Colder. Where Howard wanted to see how things worked for the sheer joy of it, Tony wants to know so he can have the advantage. He casually mentioned that he's decrypting SHIELD's software. I know the government keeps secrets (hello, walking government secret right here). But do we need to know everything? Tony just shrugs and says Fury's the master spy, whose "secrets have secrets", and Tony can't stand being in the dark. He has to know all the variables, he says. I know Howard was the same way, but there's just something about Tony that rubs me wrong. Maybe it's how reckless he can be. He's so overconfident that he knows the answers and will have a solution, that he doesn't worry about any outcomes.
But much like Howard, he makes me think and question everything around me. I'm in my bunk right now, pacing and pausing to write to collect my thoughts. I want to go search this boat to see what, if anything, Fury really is hiding from us. I desperately want it to be nothing. I want to go back to the bridge and wipe the smirk off Tony's face when I tell him there was nothing. But then I remember whose son he is, and I know he knows more than any of us at any given time, and I'm sure that I'll just end up proving him right.
I never told you that I would get nervous before missions. I never showed it, because I had a job to do. I'm sure you knew; you always knew me better than anyone, but you never said anything if you noticed. I have that feeling now, like I'm about to do something stupid, because I'm in over my head and feel like I have no choice but to act.
Why can't things be simpler? In our day we knew who the enemy was, and we fought against it. Now I'm told who the enemy is, but I have a feeling that there are more where I can't see them. I don't want Fury to be my enemy, or Tony, or Natasha or Banner. I want to believe in Phil's conviction, and that just maybe Fury isn't keeping secrets. And then I remember the smug grin on Loki's face as we brought him on board. I remember Tony and Thor fighting in the forests somewhere in Europe before I intervened.
The world has changed more than I can fathom, Buck, at least in this short span of time that I've been 'back'. I don't think I've changed with it; or I just haven't had time to change. Then I have to wonder if I want to change at all if it means becoming so cynical that I can't even take my commanding officer's orders at face value.
I keep coming back to seeing that blue flash of the Tesseract in my mind. Every life-changing event has started with that same shade of bright electric blue: from Erskine's serum, to the shot that blew open the train and blasted you out to your death; to Schmidt holding the Tesseract bare-handed and disintegrating into nothing before I crashed his Valkyrie. And now Loki's wielding it, and I have to wonder if he's the only one who wants to use it. Once again, the Tesseract is pure power, and I've seen what the quest for power can do to people.
I can't take it anymore. I've never been very good at following directions anyway, especially when they came from you. You guessed it, Buck.
About to do something stupid,
Steve