[It's not as though he can argue that. The hotel situation is what got everybody into this mess to begin with. There's so much people will tolerate for themselves, but not if it means their friends or family are on the line.
Bradley walks forward to pick up the shield, heavy and solid in his hands. Something real.
The things he's saying are so familiar, echoes of the past. Words he heard centuries ago now.
[ There's a part of Bucky that knows it's over. He's on the ground, already injured from Thursday. Bradley has his shield, the only thing that seems to leave any damage here. And even when Bucky still had it, it seemed the whole world here turned against him, rerouting every attack, every harm against him. Even his own blows.
The dignified thing to do would be to lay down and accept this.
But Bucky isn't dignified. And he doesn't just accept things. Even if it's futile, as long as he can move, then he will. If anyone wants to beat him, they'll have to do it until he's cold and soaking in his own blood. ]
Figure a way back--[ he laughs a little, cold and cynical. ] Oh, you can believe I'll crawl my way back out of the grave the second I can! But that's not the damn point!
[ He stares at the shield in Bradley's hands. Does he even understand what he's holding? The weight of it? The honor of it? The years of battle this shield has seen, what it's meant for countless people across America and around the world, the way it galvanizes people to believe in and work towards good even when it seems impossible...
The shield is all that matters, in the end. ]
I can rot in hell for all I care, but the world needs him!
[Bucky is on the ground, injured. The worst Bradley's gotten isn't even half of what Bucky's received. It'd be easy for Bucky to give up now, and accept the coming blow. The fact he doesn't is familiar too. Fight, rage, try to stay alive.
If they could both walk away, he'd be glad for it. If they could have a proper sparring match, without their hostages on the line-
The weight of the shield doesn't mean anything to him. He doesn't have the same background. Nobody's ever told him about the history of the thing, and how much it means.]
Then get him back.
[His fingers clasp tightly around the shield. He brings it down, straight into Bucky's throat.]
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Bradley walks forward to pick up the shield, heavy and solid in his hands. Something real.
The things he's saying are so familiar, echoes of the past. Words he heard centuries ago now.
He hesitates.]
Figure a way back to this hotel.
no subject
The dignified thing to do would be to lay down and accept this.
But Bucky isn't dignified. And he doesn't just accept things. Even if it's futile, as long as he can move, then he will. If anyone wants to beat him, they'll have to do it until he's cold and soaking in his own blood. ]
Figure a way back--[ he laughs a little, cold and cynical. ] Oh, you can believe I'll crawl my way back out of the grave the second I can! But that's not the damn point!
[ He stares at the shield in Bradley's hands. Does he even understand what he's holding? The weight of it? The honor of it? The years of battle this shield has seen, what it's meant for countless people across America and around the world, the way it galvanizes people to believe in and work towards good even when it seems impossible...
The shield is all that matters, in the end. ]
I can rot in hell for all I care, but the world needs him!
[ Cap is all that matters. ]
no subject
If they could both walk away, he'd be glad for it. If they could have a proper sparring match, without their hostages on the line-
The weight of the shield doesn't mean anything to him. He doesn't have the same background. Nobody's ever told him about the history of the thing, and how much it means.]
Then get him back.
[His fingers clasp tightly around the shield. He brings it down, straight into Bucky's throat.]