Titles, chumps, et cetera.

[deadthenred]

WHO: Toro, Winter Soldier, later on surprise special guest.
WHERE: A shadowy building!!
WHEN: Immediately after this log.
WARNINGS: Violence, trauma.
SUMMARY: See above.
FORMAT: Paragraph to start, Kitty can follow however.

Normally he would have fled the scene, burned it, maybe. Homeless people set fires all the time. Have to live outside. The state doesn't care for them, here, here it is America and people are free. He isn't sure who told him that.

But: the tracking device. Someone was coming, and he needed to find out who. And anything else he could. That was why he left the body out, why he let it empty slowly on the ground. Like a lake, like something you could peer over to see your reflection. He had a reflection, he was sure. He looked in the mirror to shave that morning.

So what he did then was sit in the corner and wait.

Comments

[hangtherisk.livejournal.com]

"You goddamn well know who I am!" Tom barked, because he was too afraid of what it'd mean if he didn't.

Bucky'd been right. Something was deep down wrong with him. That wrong had reared the ugliest of heads, killed Rikki, and was looking over him like the longest black shadow imaginable.

[deadthenred]

"No idea. You were the one who came after me, remember? You really think I set out to do this?" There was a pause there, a breathing in. "So tell me what you want with me. And I won't have to do this anymore."

[hangtherisk.livejournal.com]

"It's me," he said, pushing up with blood-slick hands. His chest was on fire, but not the way it should have been. Ironic. Terrible. It didn't hurt this bad the last time he got shot and that'd been clean through the heart. "Tom."

Tom was the name that he didn't give, even if it'd been put on his birth certificate. It was the name only his trusted ones got, after Toro became a hero's name and not just a nickname. "This ain't you. This ain't who you---" his leg spasmed, hard. "---you---you know me."

[deadthenred]

"If I knew who you were," he said, "you'd be dead."

There was no way to seem honest that wasn't untruthful. So he didn't bother. No point in putting any frills on.

"Tell me about the Cube."

[hangtherisk.livejournal.com]

He wasn't lying, and that sent such a chill down Toro's spine he could have thrown the towel right there.

But---no. If this had been anyone else, maybe. But it was Bucky. His best pal. He had to talk to him, to reason, to---to save him.

The first two shots were starting to heal. It was sluggish, but still there. He was knitting, healing, putting himself back together because that's what his body did. Raw nerves screamed at him.

"What cube?"

[deadthenred]

He wasn't paying attention to the way the kid was mending. Better that he didn't know, there were ways he could exploit that. None of them pretty colored. Seeing parts of this other person open, the mouth, the eyes going white round the edges. People had so many pieces, they fit together so clean. It was fascinating. There was an itch, you could call it, running him up and down like needles, telling him that there was maybe a time he could have been open, too.

It was only an itch. There was nothing for it to blossom into.

Was obvious the kid couldn't lie. "If you're not after the Cube, why the hell track me down? And don't give me any of that Bucky crap. I'm tired of being confused for somebody else."

[hangtherisk.livejournal.com]

It was difficult to concentrate. The sound of his heartbeat pounded in Tom's ears like some nauseatingly loud gong. He could hardly hear Bucky-but-not over it.

"Not---confusing---" A long tongue of flame arced from his hand, mouthing its way up to his elbow. The red-orange light made the man even more ghastly.

[deadthenred]

"If it's not confusing, you should have no problem telling me." He fired another shot, this time at the arm that had started up and burning. Had to keep the guy immobilized. Didn't like the fire.

[hangtherisk.livejournal.com]

The third shot was agonizing. Tom didn't mean to scream---could have told himself that he'd been through worse, that he could take the punishment---but it was the shock of it that did it. What little direction he had over his heat spiderwebbed, smashed, and the tears it brought to his eyes hissed on contact with his skin. Still hot, but not hot enough. His chest heaved.

"Came to save you," Tom hissed, pressing his good hand to the new wound in his bicep. The slug had dug deep into the meat of his arm. He needed help. He needed backup. He had neither.

1/2

[deadthenred]

"This is weak."

He was beginning to think he had no information at all, that these were just two idiots who came looking for trouble. What a waste. Casualties attract attention. They needed plans. And he didn't have orders for this. He didn't have orders. He should have just killed them both without talking. He shouldn't have let anybody find him in the first place. No orders for this, no orders.

It made him angry, angry enough that it turned the lines of his face. His voice caught on its own syllables. "Tell me who else there is, who's coming to—"

[latrodectus]

And then something rushed in from the shadows, quick. She knew she was faster than him, but she also knew she'd only get one opening, one chance at surprise. In a few seconds she was almost close enough to touch him, her gauntlets aimed at his head. And she whispered something, too low for Tom to hear, and the other man's eyes rolled back and he fell like leaves into a pile.

[hangtherisk.livejournal.com]

He was drawn out thin, his consciousness ebbing---so much so that it took him a few horrible seconds to realize that the woman was real and not some redheaded angel come to gather him up. His faith wouldn't have accepted an angel all done up in leather, but he'd take an ally in it any day.

He hadn't seen her coming, hadn't expected anyone to be there to save him. He was alone, wasn't he? Rikki and Bucky were all that he had. Who was this?

Toro trembled bodily, wracked with shock. His breath came in shallow gasps, never drawing in enough to alleviate the growing numbness in his arms and legs.

But Bucky was down. He wasn't moving.

"Didja---" his voice cracked, strained. "---kill him?"

[latrodectus]

"No. Of course not," she said, shaking her head. "He'll wake up in a few hours." She was saying that for herself, more than she was saying that for him. After a moment, she turned her eyes at least to look at Toro.

"It's a shut-down word. A failsafe, if he ever goes out of control. But it'll only work once."

There were a lot of things for her to notice, here. The blood on the floor, the heavy texture of the air. How it felt to breathe in. But those weren't the things she was noticing. Just the bodies, the two of them. And the dilemma of what to do next.

[hangtherisk.livejournal.com]

He wasn't going to be able to get up. The thought was more than he could handle. He couldn't stop staring at the big black heap of Bucky, that ugly metal arm. His brain was stuttering---gears grinding, getting nowhere. This couldn't have happened. This was a nightmare.

Tom couldn't move. He moaned, pulling his injured arm to his chest.

"He killed her."

[latrodectus]

"I wish I had gotten here in time." She hadn't been watching Rikki. That was her mistake, she should have been tracking both comms instead of following the fire cross the skies. If she had planned it better, this whole thing could have been avoided. She could have— no. That was all useless to think about. She'd get nowhere second-guessing herself.

"Don't move if you can't." Orders, orders. She tried to make her words softer. "How bad are you hurt?"

[hangtherisk.livejournal.com]

Toro shuddered, throat working. How badly was he hurt? He couldn't even put words to it. He caught red out of the corner of his eye---Rikki's back, uniform crusted dark---and lost the fight against nausea. The couldn't have been messier, more embarrassing. Horrible. So, so wrong.

"Bad," he croaked, dazed.

aaaand /returns to this log

[latrodectus]

"You can't stand, huh? We're going to need to get away from this building. You need a hospital." She looked at Tom, because Tom was the easiest thing in this room to look at.

"If it you can't speak, just shake your head. The wounds aren't fatal, if you were wondering. Extremities only." She didn't add, "lucky you." She knew luck had little to do with it.