When Bucky was on the run he was hurt and scared. Everyone was looking for him, but he found someone willing to help. In the end, a strong bond was forged in fire.
Bucky and Sam currently need help defeating the so-called Flag-Smashers, and he knew...
The next minutes were filled with the same back and forth; poor Bucky looked like he could shrink in his seat. I was definitely enjoying this more than I would like to admit. Although, it was really weird watching Sam agree with Creep-o.
"Everybody loves Marvin Gaye."
"I like Marvin Gaye." Bucky shrugged.
"Steve adored Marvin Gaye." Sam shot back.
"You must have really looked up to Steve." Creeep-o started. "But I realized something when I met him. The danger with people like him, America's super soldiers, is that we put them on pedestals."
"Not all of them." I said under my breath. But I could tell Bucky noticed because his head jerked up.
"Watch your step, Zemo." Sam added.
"They become symbols. Icons. And then we start to forget about their flaws. From there, cities fly, innocent people die. Movements are formed, wars are fought."
"What a poet." I snarled.
"You remember that, right?" he turned to Bucky. "As a young soldier sent to Germany to stop a mad icon. Do we want to live in a world full of people like the Red Skull? That is why we are going to Madripoor." He addressed Sam.
"What's up with Madripoor? You talk about it like it's Skull Island." Sam said.
"Kind of is." I raised my eyebrows. "It's an island nation in the Indonesian archipelago. It was a pirate sanctuary back in the 1800s. And it's kept its lawless ways."
"I didn't know you've been to Madripoor." Bucky said with a visible hurt expression.
"There's a lot you don't know about me Barnes." I smirked at him.
"We cannot exactly walk in as ourselves." Zemo started.
"I hate to agree with Creep-o over here but he's right." I sighed, knowing where this is going.
"James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone." Zemo added.
I knew I packed that outfit for something.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Now we were walking down one of the bridges in Madripoor heading towards what was considered 'Low Town'.
I was wearing that romper I mentioned I was packing before with a coat Creep-o bought so I could hid my guns and knife better, unfortunately, heels. They weren't that tall but I'm not one to like or wear them. This is a one-time thing only. I put my hair up in a tight ponytail (or pinned up strands if you have short hair) it was different from my usual style, which consists of not caring how it looks, or if in the occasional mission, then I would have the side strands pinned up. I'm not Natasha, I cant fight with a head of loose hair or high heels. Now that is a skill.
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