stands_for_hope | The Metropolis Not!Vengers in... Location, location, location!

Steve waved off the end of that sentence, because ultimately, it didn't matter. They were... them now. And however they got there, it wasn't that important in the grand scheme.

"He won't say anything. Clint knows I'm moving here, so the rest of the Avengers do too... but I haven't... clarified 'us'."

Jim nodded, glancing over while they waited through a light. "Yeah, it's... Well, we've only been 'us' for a few hours."

"Feels right, though," he confided quietly before stepping out as soon as the light changed.

"Not denying that. I just... kinda wish it'd happened before, even if I'm kinda glad it didn't, too." He walked calmly along the crosswalk, placing the sporting goods store in his mind. It wasn't far now, but they'd have to cross a few more streets.

"Didn't think you were. I just... I guess it just kinda feels longer, is all I'm saying," he noted as he stepped up onto the curb.

"You want me to keep it vague with the Avengers? Cause honestly, outside of Sam? That's... about it."

The rest of his friends, his coworkers, the people he'd thought were friends... if they weren't SHIELD agents who'd been observing him, then they had turned out to be HYDRA (like his strike team), or they were dead. He hadn't exactly made many friends.

"For now," he said. "I just... I need to get settled with things first. You know... it's... It's just weird for me. To be open about all this." There was still a thread of terror in the very idea.

That got a firm nod.

"I'm fine with that."

A wry twist of his lips was explained a moment later.

"All the longer till I have to threaten Tony."

That got a look and a raised eyebrow. "...Threaten him with what?"

That... was a slightly awkward expression.

"It's mostly just a song and dance you have to go through with him. He's not a bad guy, but damn if he doesn't like pissing people off. Me especially."

He adjusted his hat a little.

"So he's gonna say something stupid he doesn't mean cause he thinks he's funnier than he is, I'm gonna tell him off, we'll tear into each other a few times, and then he'll remember we're not on a radio comedy and it'll be done."

He looked over at Steve skeptically - then shook his head. "Okay then. That sounds... the opposite of fun. Tedious, maybe."

"It sounds worse than it is," he admitted as he caught up a little.

"We started rocky since apparently, Howard... well, let's say things didn't go well between him and his son and me being one of Howard's 'friends' from back when--"

He shook his head.

"But now, it's mostly nonsense. He still doesn't get the idea that sometimes, you just gotta slog through the mud, but I figure, he'll get that now that he's takin' lead on things back in New York."

"He grew up rich. Probably doesn't know any other way to be," Jim agreed. "And I think me and you were as close to homeless as you could get and still have a roof sometimes." But even in those times, there had still been some happy moments. Usually when they were curled up at night keeping warm by virtue of a thin blanket and the two of them in the same bed.

"Pretty much," and he shrugged along with it, "He's the kind of guy who knows a lot, but doesn't understand much until he gets it in a knock to the face."

He held up a hand.

"Not that I've ever actually punched him, but it got close a time or two."

"Well, we've gotta be careful who we punch, too," Jim reminded, but smiled. "I've still gotta teach Clark to fight. He has no idea how to throw a punch except to clench a fist and hope."

That got a look.

"...seriously?"

He'd seen the guy lift a tank single-handed. And he didn't know how to throw a punch?

"Dead serious," Jim nodded. "He never fought before. Ever. Kind of one of the reasons I keep stepping in. He's..."

Jim shrugged. "He's too nice to have to. And I've been on the butt end of a gun often enough that it doesn't make much difference to me."

He wasn't going to say anything about Jim's choices. As far as he could see, they were pretty damn close to his own choices, to act when action was needed, to try and do what he could so as a soldier and as... whatever the Avengers were.

Heroes.

"I can't even imagine that," he admitted as they kept walking, "I mean, kids are kids. We got into plenty of scraps even outside of my, uh..."

His general tendency to defend anyone who needed defending.

"At least he's got a good teacher. You were, what, welterweight champ for Brooklyn before you left?"

"Your memory's better than mine on that one, so I'll take your word for it," he chuckled. "But... y'know, it's..."

He took a breath then said, "I... should tell you the truth. Since you told me the truth. I left, but it wasn't because I signed up."

Steve had been opening his mouth to say something, but he couldn't tell you what it was a moment later. His steps just stopped.

"What?"

He didn't sound disappointed or upset, exactly. Just... completely and utterly confused.

When he realised Steve stopped, he did too - it was just luck that the streets weren't more crowded or people would've been pissed. "I was drafted, Stevie," he said. "I... got the letter while you were out. Hid it. Told you I enlisted, 'cause I knew you wanted to go."

The first step is slow, starting up again. Then there's another one.

"Oh."

He wracks his mind, trying to think of what else he could say or what else he wants to say, but it's probably one of the biggest surprises of his life. Bucky... hadn't enlisted? Bucky'd... been drafted? One of the biggest moments of his life had a completely different flavor than it had a minute ago and he's not exactly sure if it he likes it better or worse or if there is a better or worse because they're so far down the line, it really shouldn't matter. He's not sure if it matters, though.

He thinks maybe it should matter, maybe he should be angry that Bucky'd lied to him, but he's not. Because he knows why he was lied to. He wonders if he'd have done anything different, if he'd known. If he wouldn't have tried so hard to get in if he'd known that Bucky hadn't actually wanted to go, if he'd have made less of a big deal of it. He doesn't think he could do.

He did reach over and put his hand on Jim's shoulder, reassure him. Ultimately, ultimately, it didn't matter. Because they were here and things had already happened and he didn't regret anything enough to wish he hadn't done it. But it was a bit to take in.

"Makes sense now. Why you were so angry at me. When I kept trying to join up."

"That wasn't it." Jim shook his head. "That wasn't why I didn't want you there. I didn't want you to sign up because I'd already worked my ass off to try to keep you alive and I didn't want you somewhere getting shot at because that was already too close to happening to you here. I was selfish. I wanted you to be... safer, even if it wasn't safe, than if you were over there."

He wasn't looking up. Steve had told him about being attracted to him, and he'd turned around, bit his head off, snarled at him, made himself sound no better than the jerks he'd thrown off Steve hundreds of times before. Now he was making himself sound like a different kind of jerk.

Well, at least it was honest.

He couldn't help it. It wasn't the smart response or the best response, but it was the one he had.

Which was why his face broke into a slightly manic laugh.

"You'd put all that work in... and you didn't want anyone undoing a lifetime of... scraping me off the floor because of some war off somewhere, eh, Buck?"

He didn't even realize he'd slipped because it was all just... insane. Ridiculous. Utterly him.

"That... explains why you looked half ready to kill me when I showed up to drag you out of that factory. Half confused, half ready to kill me yourself. Damn. Just... damn."

"I wanted you to be safe," he protested. "You were... You were important. You were the reason I had to get back from the war, and then I woke up, and I was either hallucinating or dead because there you were, two feet too big and dragging me out of that damn place... And I wondered why the hell they'd let you get there because you were too important to risk to these arrogant idiots with guns."

"Eleven inches," he said, a little less... wild. Nodding and smiling crooked. He gave Jim's shoulder a squeeze.

"But, Jim... you were important too. If I hadn't gotten that ride from Stark, I was aimin' to steal a truck. And when I ran outta gas, I woulda walked the rest of the way."

He finally found Jim's eyes.

"And I woulda done that at 5'4'' too."

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