proudlywehailed | Drift Fleet: IC Inbox

Still not exactly looking forward to this. It was really personal. He has every right to be pissed.

Least it's in the open, right?

Wasn't my business. It didn't involve me.

[he sighs. the pie is still sitting on the table, untouched. what he wanted in any actuality was probably just... jim.]

I won't be able to keep him around anyway, when I go back home.

[ that way lies Feelings; Jim is not going there. Nope. Can't make him. ]

So why bother with anything?

... He deserves something good while he's here. Me being a decent friend would be a start.

[orion dodges the attack with a natural ease only steve has ever possessed.]

[ For all the ease he possesses, in one world James Barnes is the greatest soldier the century ever knew. This one doesn't quite have the precise, brutal aim, but echoes of it, growing louder. ]

Y'know, doin' something for other people is easier than wanting it from yourself. Not sayin' it's a bad reason, but it ain't always the right one.

[orion looks over at him slowly.]

What would you call the right one?

[ Simply, ]

Doing it because it's right.

[ Steve never needed to ask to know, even when good is something you do, not something you are. This hurts, but that won't stop Jim. ]

[just like that, everything in orion's head comes to a full stop. the conditioning kicks in, his sense of morality kicks in, and he tenses up. clarity always comes too quickly.

I got no right to do any less than them.

orion closes his eyes and grimaces. then he reaches up, clutching the side of his head.]

[ Soft, ]

You okay?

... fine. [not fine.

he's in pain from the sudden headache, but he doesn't know what to do about it. he wants... rumlow? no.

.... no? that's not right.]

[ Still soft, ]

Orion.

I'm fine, Buck.

[as if he'd never called him any other name.]

[ If you're not him don't use his name. He could. It's right there, and he's never claimed not to be angry, or bitter, or hurting. ]

It's Jim.

... What'd I say?

[he's confused. he opens his eyes and looks at the pie. is it the smell? is it jim?]

You called me a name no one uses.

... James?

[quick as it came, it's gone. was it residual from seeing jim's memory? probably.]</small

[ Not unused, only private. His mother, and Steve's, and Natasha say James. ]

Buck.

... [the look on his face says it all.

Why did I say that?]

[ He raises an eyebrow. Well? ]

... sorry.

[it's muttered, and he's still in his head.]

[ Soft, ]

Don't do it again.

[ Because it belongs to someone dead — maybe not dead, but gone, and someone Jim grieves for. ]

[for some reason, that stings more than he thinks it should. but he just shakes his head to try to clear it.]

I won't.

[ Pause. He exhales. ]

Thanks.

[he's quiet for a long time, not really sure how to respond to that. when he speaks up, he's quiet, hesitant, and his eyes are stuck on the pie.]

... Can you tell me about him?

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