Jason Todd

More than Bucky would like, Jason's certain of that much. He hasn't seen everything, but he's seen the beginning, has lived and died in it, over and over until they finally got Bucky out of the loop in time.

"That's what they called him," he says, stomach bottoming out as he follows. "He killed for them, he says he - he said he was like a ghost. Kept in cryo when he wasn't in use."

From:

"Those are the pressing details," I say, stopping and turning back to Jason.

"Jason, I need you to keep your head down and stay as far away from this as possible. I don't know how it's going to go. The Winter Soldier doesn't operate without a directive, and we don't what's triggered him."

The last time I came up against the Winter Soldier it took the power of cosmic cube to save Bucky. God help me, I don't know how I'm going to do it this time.

From:

"But I can help," says Jason, even as memories hurtle him backwards, force him to remember just how deadly Bucky can be. "I want to."

And even after all he's seen and done, Jason's still young enough to add, "This isn't supposed to happen."

From:

"No," I agree, "it's not. And once we have a plan, once we figure out the Winter Soldier's goal, we can move on this. But until then, I'd rather you not give him any reason to kill you."

For a start, Bucky would never forgive himself.

If I can even bring Bucky back.

No. I can, and I will. There's no other option.

Edited Date: 2012-05-16 10:15 pm (UTC)

From:

Jason goes gray beneath his tan. It's not only possible or even probable - in this state, Bucky killing someone is only a matter of time, and Jason doesn't want it to be him. Not again, and as much as he'd already feared it, hearing it in Steve's even tones makes the danger that much more real.

Still. "As soon as I'm useful then," he says, and stops just short of grabbing Steve's arm. "You can help him, can't you?"

From:

I don't answer immediately. At least, not as immediately as I should.

"I'll get him back," I tell him. My voice sounds steady to my own ears. I even believe it. I have to.

From:

Jason nods, as desperate and doubtful as Steve is, and refusing to acknowledge either just as hard. He opens his mouth to speak, but there's something through the window, some pinprick of light that carries through even the dazzle of the sun, and Jason reacts without thinking.

Throwing himself forward and down, he catches at Steve's arm, trying to pull him with.

From:

Jason's weight alone isn't enough to pull me down, but it's enough to get the message across. I drop, turning from the window and diving to the floor the second before it shatters, following Jason's momentum, and roll to come up pressed against the wood bar and out of the sniper's view.

Damn it. Damn it.

From:

A hundred yards away, ensconced in the high branches of a tree, the Winter Soldier sighs as he lowers his rifle. The damned kid got in the way of his clear shot, thereby outliving his usefulness in record time. It's almost a shame, given that it's only thanks to him that the Soldier found his objective. Following the kid had been a no-brainer, tracking him just as easy, but now he's gone and jeopardized the completion of the mission, and that simply will not do.

But there's not much the Winter Soldier can accomplish from here. He's a sitting duck if he runs out of ammo and the element of surprise is no longer on his side. He needs to regroup, come up with a new plan of attack now that his target has been confirmed, and that means getting the hell out of here before Captain America remembers that legs are useful for more than just dodging bullets.

Shouldering his rifle, the Winter Soldier jumps down from his perch, landing light-footed against the jungle floor before he makes a break for it.

Edited Date: 2012-05-17 10:18 pm (UTC)

From:

Even though he'd known exactly what he was dodging, it's still a shock to hear the glass shatter behind them, to know that it's Bucky behind the scope.

He won't wait around. He's been made, and there's no reason to linger.

"Bucky!" Jason shouts, leaping through the shattered pane and onto the porch, launching himself towards the trees as fast as he can go. Whatever Jason's promised Steve, Bucky will hate himself for this much - how much more will he suffer if he really hurts someone? And what will someone else do to bring him down?

Jason runs, wishing for his gauntlets, his suit, his helmet, anything, "Bucky, stop!"

From:

Damn it to hell. I throw myself to my feet and vault the frame for the couch Duck helped me start to sculpt out. I slide a few feet, then launch myself in a run for the window frame, now mostly empty, and leap through it.

It's a testament to my state of mind that I just don't see the jagged shard- substantially more than a shard, really- still embedded in the window frame. It doesn't just catch the pant leg of the cargoes I'm wearing, it cuts deep across my calf, and I stumble, my balance thrown. My shoulder rebounds off a tree, painfully, and then I'm running full out, moving seamlessly through the jungle, but even a second's distance between me and them could be everything, let alone two.

From:

They're tailing him. It's a dumb move, he thinks, but an expected one. He presses forwards despite the kid's shouts -- Bucky, who the hell is Bucky? -- for him to stop, on the lookout for high ground. The terrain's unfamiliar to him, but not to them, and in this alone they have the advantage; they'll know before he does where he's most likely to disappear.

But he can give them chase in the meantime. Ducking and weaving through trees, the Winter Soldier keeps a fast, unrelenting pace, his footfalls a whisper on the packed earth.

From:

Jason's never seen Bucky be anything but on his game, even one-armed and half-sedated, and as the Winter Soldier he cuts deftly through the brush. The fact Bucky has no idea where he's going is the only thing Jason can be grateful for.

With Bucky headed towards a copse too thick to swiftly push through, Jason angles sideways, passing easily through the lighter brush to reappear in front of him.

"Bucky," he tries again, both hands up and breathing hard. "Please." With nothing left, Jason tries in Russian. "You don't know what you're doing."

From:

The Winter Soldier doesn't stop to listen, instead using his momentum to carry forward his first punch. No matter what training this kid's obviously had, he's confident that his own is better. This is his fight to lose.

"I could say the same about your Russian."

From:

The stop! gets stuck in Jason's throat, leaving him instead as a gasp when Bucky's hand flies forward. Jason darts just in time to catch it as a mere graze against his temple, and, not wishing to addle Bucky's brains anymore than they already are, aims a hard strike at Bucky's solar plexus.

From:

He rolls with the hit, though the suit takes the brunt of the impact; it's designed to withstand a hell of a lot more than a punch. Taking advantage of the kid's extended arm, the Winter Soldier reaches for it with his gleaming metal one, intent on twisting it behind the kid's back, as his free hand produces the knife from his belt to end this before it even gets started.

From:

It's less than one breath, and yet Jason feels so many things when he sees that knife catch the light. It's been more than a year since Jason watched Bucky slide a scalpel through his heart as smoothly as if he were butter. More than a year, and still there's a moment when Jason's so afraid he can't breathe, but then his body remembers what to do.

Catching Bucky's knife hand at the wrist, Jason bends and heaves with all his might, throwing Bucky over the wedge of his body and onto the ground.

From:

Kid's got some chops. Too bad they won't be enough.

Kicking forward, the Winter Soldier all but dives into the throw, propelling himself back onto his feet -- only he doesn't straighten. Staying low in a crouch, he quickly pivots around, throwing out his leg to sweep under the backs of the kid's knees.

From:

Jason leaps just in time, and though he doesn't have his gauntlets or his grappling lines, instinct carries him higher, and he lands neatly in the branches over their heads.

"Bucky," Jason tries, he can't seem to stop, "Just wait a minute!"

From:

There is no waiting with the Winter Soldier, and I don't even slow down before I slam into him, arms folded in front of me to hit him low in the back. It's almost impossible to get the Winter Soldier off balance, but that's my first goal.

I roll after the impact, knowing he'll be coming up to his feet just as prepared as I am.

"Enough."

From:

He's no less deadly close-up than he is at a distance, but the Winter Soldier knows going against Rogers without a plan of attack could prove disastrous. Already he's paying for missing his shot; another mistake's just not in the cards. He needs an exit strategy, fast, and once again, it's the kid that provides his next move, safe in his nest and ripe for a fall.

Recovering from Rogers' wrecking ball routine, the Winter Soldier regains his footing in a matter of seconds, replacing his knife so he can withdraw the shield instead. It's an elegant weapon, beautifully balanced, and surely worthy of a better man than Captain America despite its patriotic paint job. Though the Winter Soldier has no memory of ever wielding it, his muscles tell a different story, his throw as graceful as any of its previous owner's. Humming through the air, the shield spins towards its intended target: the kid's head.

From:

Steve comes out of nowhere, huge and terrifying even from Jason's vantage point, and he watches as that same body he'd bounced off only minutes before slams into Bucky's from behind. It's brutal enough that Jason half expects to hear Bucky's spine crack, but the suit must absorb most of the impact, because he's on his feet again before Jason can blink twice.

Breathless, Jason watches the shield come up, and for a moment he's almost relieved, that Bucky's on the defense, that Bucky can defend himself if Steve strikes at him in earnest. Gaze tracking to Steve to see what he'll do next, Jason doesn't realize what's happening before it's too late.

He twists, but the shield catches him on the side of the head. Consciousness stolen in an instant, Jason falls like a stone, face a bloody mess before he ever hits the ground.

From:

"Jason-!" I move to him, drop defensively in front of him, never turning my back to the Soldier, eyes narrowed, defenses up, but I can already see he's going to run.

There's so much going on in my head, concern for Jason, a deep and raw anger at seeing The Shield used that way, a raw fear at Bucky's state.

From:

This isn't how he cares to operate. The kid's a liability and ought to be killed, but he's more useful alive than dead, a fact the Captain's just confirmed from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. A corpse doesn't bear protecting, but a young man in desperate need of medical attention surely does, and with this action alone, the Winter Soldier has earned himself a way out of here.

Though he'll have to go without the shield. Lodged in the tree after bouncing off the kid's head, there's no way to retrieve it without passing through Rogers first. Counter-intuitive. It's another acceptable loss, and one he can make up for later.

Gaze darting from the kid back to Rogers, the Winter Soldier leaves the pair with a question before he goes: "How much more collateral are you willing to risk, flag man?"

From: