James Bucky Barnes, the former soldier, doesn't think he's got any gentleness left in him. But Grace Juniper Cunningham, the former child prodigy, strongly disagrees.
;
"𝘐 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯."
"𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴�...
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Stark was quiet for a long moment. Suspiciously quiet. As quiet as he could be—not talking, but filling the room with obnoxious, idle noises, poking at his keyboard and shifting a chair.
I stood on the other side of his computer now, watching him carefully. But he didn't speak. Just ignored me.
"Just say what you're gonna say," I urged finally.
He sighed and folded his arms, looking at me. "I'm speaking as the world's leading Gracie expert: Make a decision tonight. I don't care which."
"Are you threatening me, or what?" I asked, bored. Disappointed, even. I'd thought he was going somewhere that would hurt. I wanted a real prod. Permission, almost.
I wanted him to tell me that one last try at fixing things was what was best for Grace. Because I hadn't seen her all week—she'd been avoiding me until tonight. How the fuck was I supposed to know if she'd even want me to try?
"No. I'm suggesting," he said. "I don't do stuff like this. I don't get involved. People set emotional deadlines for me, not the other way around. So if a professional fuck up is telling you you're a fuck up, then you know you must be a fuck up."
"Sure."
"If you care about her, I need you to make a decision tonight," he said. He turned to his computer and began typing as he spoke. "Because as the person who knows her bestest in the world, I'm telling you that this is the worst she's ever been. Anxiety-wise. And it's your fault. Not HYDRA's." He paused to consider. "Okay, 5% HYDRA. But she's more worried about you. Do you realize that? She's more anxious about whether you're going to leave her than about whether HYDRA is going to kill her."
"HYDRA's more than 5%."
"So. As your therapist—"
"You're not—"
"—I hereby prescribe you one couple's viewing of the footage I just forwarded Gracie of you murdering people."
"I can't fucking stand you," I said. "The footage you just had pulled up?"
"She won't watch it unless you tell her to."
"I know."
"She's too good for you."
"I know."
"I don't like you," he mused. "Personal histories aside, I don't like who you are as a human being. To the core. I think you're unpleasant to be around, your soul is made of garbage, and you bum everybody out."
"Are you going somewhere with this?"
"I think you're the top of the discount bin, dating wise. For her."
