But I’d just like to take the time to say…don’t be a fucking dick.
Why bother sending people hate? Why not just unfollow if you don’t like them? Don’t be a douche. It’s more than likely going to be deleted, so why bother? It’s more of a bother than anything else.
If you get pleasure out of tearing other people down…then you’re an asshole. Go fuck yourself.
Yeah, you try nappin’ during a bumpy ride in the cargo hold in a wooden box meant for a cow and see how you like it. Really, did they even wash the damn crate before he got in there? It smelled!
Natalia couldn’t see how Hellboy was doing, but she hoped he’d handle the trip fine. The only person she could focus her attention on was James. Every times she said or thought that name she liked it a bit more. She reached down, curling her fingers over his. “It will be alright.” She squeezed James’ hand tightly, smiling as she looked past him out the window. “Once we are out of Russia, we will be able to hide. Or we will make friends and…” She sighed, looking up at him with a tired smile. “It will be alright.” She insisted, almost desperately.
They’d make it up to Hellboy once they reached America. The smell was worth his safety, no? The discomfort he felt hidden in the crate would be nothing compared to what would happen if Department X intercepted them. James listened to Natalia’s assurances, but he didn’t let them sway him. She still held on to a semblance of hope. Faith. Maybe their late friend hat gotten to her. He on the other couldn’t afford to relax right now. They couldn’t afford to relax once they got of the country. They had relaxed upon arriving at the church, and how did that turn out? ‘Make friends’…they couldn’t afford to trust anyone, not now. Without a reply, James stroked her knuckles with his thumb. They had no way of knowing if it would be alright, all they could do was try their best. Who knew if that would be good enough?
Considering George Lucas was an old white man. Even if he wasn’t directing the new ones…
Mutt was a punk, and not in the cool Han Solo way. Not to mention Cate Blanchett’s shitty Russian. No wonder idiots always asked people from Russia to say ‘moose and squirrel’ if they thought Russians sounded like THAT!
It wasn’t the same! It would be like putting the Christmas decorations up in July and singing lewd Christmas carols; something would just be missing and make the whole thing not as magical, damn it!
"Some people never see you do anything badass. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen." If he wanted to go, they would go. Of course Natasha had seen James be plenty badass but other people in the room? that would never happen. Their daughter didn’t need to know about their jobs. “Put a dollar in the jar for saying A-S-S.” Tasha saying it didn’t count; she was repeating him. Lord help them if Rebecca’s first word was ‘badass’.
"I am not, she just loves her daddy so very much.” Alright fine, it was a ploy. Can you blame her? James had a weakness for cute girls, after all. Tasha turned back to the TV, watching the Jawas do their Jawa-y things. Creepy little Jawas. Their eyes always freaked Natasha out, so she covered Rebecca’s eyes just in case, which of course was more upsetting that the actual movie itself was.
He didn’t want to crush Natasha’s anticipation, or feed her fears… but he had his own doubts about the upcoming film. Just because Lucas was stepping back didn’t mean it would be good. He had stepped away with the Holiday Special after all, and look how that turned out. As far as Indy went…Raiders and Last Crusade were the only ones he really cared for. Not only were the stories superior to the even numbered pictures but…
He’d never get tired of seeing Nazis getting their asses kicked. It just wasn’t possible. Perking up, James covered Rebecca’s ears, a wry smirk creeping it’s way onto his face. “You just said it too. You owe a buck too, or we just call it even.” If their daughter’s first word was indeed a swear…well, they could always backtrack and say she did say dada. Feed her gassy foods before company came over…no, no. That wouldn’t be worth it.
“Darn right she does.” Turning his attention back to the movie, the Jawas honestly reminded him of the Starks. Annoying little people with shifty eyes and a hard on for technology. He was more worried about how Rebecca would react to the sand people. All the weird aliens in the cantina. Jabba. The rancor..the sarlaac. God damn, why was all the scary shit on Tatooine?
Waitig until he had sat down and gotten comfortable, she began to serve the still-warm breakfast that she had prepared, handing him a cup of coffee as she smiled up at him lovingly. “You don’t need to mention it, liebe, you’ve already shown it.” That he was willing to listen and not shoot down her desire to help was just as indicative of his feelings as him verbalizing them.
The more things change, the more they’ve stayed the same, and those similarities are making all the difference. He had never hidden the fact that he believed that he worked best alone when the truth was he needed someone a bit more level-headed to balance him. and you’ve always been more leve-headed than him even if he refuses to admit it. That’s why you work well with him. When he lets you.
Even if it went without saying, he would. Every day, for the rest of their lives. More than once, of course. “Rather than be fed up, you want to help…you were fed up that I wasn’t letting you help.” She wasn’t going, wouldn’t ever, give up on him. She wasn’t going to let him give up on himself, let the past keep him from enjoying their present to the fullest.
You haven’t been immature so much as…whimsical. Whether or not you want to admit it, you had a dark side back then too, Buck. Always got you into trouble…it’s what got you the gig as Steve’s partner, after all. It wasn’t just your skill, your determination…you could do what he couldn’t. Wouldn’t. All the Soviets did was amplify that primal feeling that was already there, mold it to their needs.
She shook her head, opening the bottle with a pop before taking a swig. Natasha pulled a face for a moment, before laughing. “Damn, I haven’t had this stuff in years. It’s as good as I remember.” She took another drink before setting the bottle down on the counter. “If anyone screws up my life, it’ll be me. Trust me, James.”
Smirking at her expression, he took a sip from his own bottle. “I know there’s not much to miss from that time. Don’t know if we would have been able to get through it without ‘the brew’.” Grimacing, it wasn’t his place to argue that, was it? “You’ve come a long way. I know what you’re going to say. I know how it feels… but humor me…all things considered, you’ve done pretty alright for yourself.”
Steve rolled his eyes and let out a chuckle, “I know what it is, but I’m not worried about that. All I want to do is beat some sense in to you.” He was tired of all this talking. Back and forth. Words that meant nothing. “How’s about I let you get in the first shot, eh? You should at least have a chance. Not much of one, but still…a chance.”
…Yeah, he was stalling. Putting this off for as long as he could. “You’re going to beat some sense into me? If you’re thinking of bringing me back there Steve, I’d rather you just kill me.” Maybe he could get through to him, if he said the right thing. That didn’t seem to be an option anymore, not now. It was all falling upon deaf ears. Really, when he had been in Steve’s shoes, would any of this worked on him?
He knew how stupid it was. Pathetic. He could take the open shot…how long would it take to fire off a shot vs how long it would take Steve to lift the shield? Could take out a kneecap, slow him down…he’d thank him later. Did he have it in him, though? He would incapacitate. Only. “You really are a punk, you know.”
"Are you telling me who I can and can’t hang out with, Barnes?" A playful smirk on her lips, she followed him to the kitchen before taking one of the bottles from his hands."You won’t drag me down. If anyone drags someone else down, it’s going to be me.”
"I’m not that stupid.”He snorted as she took the bottle, before popping his own open with a sigh. “Probably shouldn’t think in those terms…what I’m saying Nat, is that you’ve been able to move on with your life, move on from the past. The best anyone like us can. Don’t let me screw up the life you’ve made.”
Bucky’s behavior had been upsetting, but she wouldn’t call it out of line. To her, it seemed like it was more him dealing with things in the manner that was best for him while ignoring the fact that he was not part of an us. What worked for him alone wouldn’t work for them together.
No matter how much times have changed - you’re not fighting in a war anymore - his shit has rarely been as important as he assumed. When you were younger it was easy for you to dismiss it out of hand since he had given you ample reason, and now that you were older it took you a little longer to realize he was blowing smoke up your ass to distract you from the real problem. He needs you to keep him focused just like you need him to distract you from all the things you think you might have missed. It’s a balancing act.
Sighing, he gave her a soft smile as they settled in the kitchen. “Have I mentioned that I love you this morning? How thankful I am?” Would anyone else think he was worth the trouble? Probably not. They likely would have given up on him, told him to get over himself quite some time ago…
Back when you were kids… if she was patient enough for with that back then, when you were in the middle of a war…and still fell for you? Compare that to where you guys are now. All these years later, she’s still not afraid to tell you you’re a dumbass for trying to endure on your own. With all the changes, that’s actually rather comforting. Especially now that ego’s no longer a factor. Most of the time.
Red had bitched more about the fact he had to stow away as ‘live cargo’, but it was more misdirected upset than actual complaint. It wasn’t like he could blend in while they made their way to America, even if being crated like like livestock was the most uncomfortable way to travel.
Natalia was just as on edge, never able to relax once and ‘enjoy the trip. How could she? They had escaped only to be hunted, which wasn’t the goal of escaping. Worst of all she had no idea who was chasing them. The Red Room, or someone else. The priest (God rest his soul…yes, she thought that) had given them the sort of information that lead to more questions than answers, and he’s been murdered before they could ask where they should even begin to look.
Getting Hellboy safe was the first priority, everything else they could deal with later.
It wasn’t like the Soldier…James, didn’t sympathize with Hellboy. It was just the safest way to smuggle him into the country. He could take a nap to pass the time…?
If cramped quarters were their biggest concern, then they were in the clear. There was a distinct possibility that even if they weren’t followed, the Kremlin was keeping an eye on all outgoing flights. Even if they made it to America, could they really trust on their government’s protection? They would probably want to use Hellboy as well. If they were to switch sides and work for them, it would be on their own terms.
Or, they could go into hiding. Fade away, and hope that it lasted. Perhaps that was preferable, but would they know how to function with that sort of life? There was also what their late friend had told them about Hellboy’s supposed destiny. Was that something they could hide from? If they tried to, would that death be in vain?