[Bucky Barnes; R] The Righteous Side Of Hell: Chapter 2 Character/Series: Bucky Barnes, Cast; Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: R Notes: YES THIS SNAKE PICTURE EXISTS. I share because I care. Title: The Righteous Side Of Hell - Chapter 2: These Should Not Be Forgotten Years Author:yuuo Word Count: 6369 Summary:"So who're the lovely ladies you two have hanging on your arms?" Maggie asked once everyone was settled, served their drinks, ordered and waiting on Maggie's kitchen staff to prepare all the food.
hearts have been hard our hands have been clenched in a fist too long our sons need never be soldiers our daughters will never need guns these are the years between these are the years that were hard fought and won -Midnight Oil
"So who're the lovely ladies you two have hanging on your arms?" Maggie asked once everyone was settled, served their drinks, ordered and waiting on Maggie's kitchen staff to prepare all the food. "And the gentlemen, too," she said, nodding at Bruce and Sam.
Steve took over introductions. "This is Sharon Carter. Our personal bodyguard who moonlights as my girlfriend."
Sharon nudged him. "With you staying home all the time and Bucky staying in the lab with Bruce's supervision, it's more the other way around. You two and the others are all well-behaved."
There it was again, that odd inclusion of the other Avengers as part of her job. She'd always been good about separating job from personal life with them. He wondered if something had changed. What, he wasn't sure.
Sharon looked up at Maggie. "Pleasure to meet you, Mama. Steve and Bucky have talked about you before."
"Have they?" Maggie gave them a mock stern look. "It'd better have been how good my food is, or they're wearing it when it comes out."
"I don't think all the praise in the world they could've given you would trump Tony's assessment that your cheeseburgers were the best he's ever tasted," Bruce said.
Maggie looked ready to burst from pride. "I need to ask him if he'll put that on the record, see if it doesn't grow my business a bit. Grandmama would be awfully proud to see how her recipes have impressed big names. But anyway, I'm sorry, I'm not catching everyone's name."
"Bruce Banner," Bruce said, nodding in greeting, too far down the table to reach Maggie's hand. "I work at the Avengers Tower with Bucky. We're mostly working on pharmaceuticals right now."
Maggie looked at Bucky. "When did you get into science?"
"I've always been a scientist, sorta," Bucky said. "I have a degree in chemical engineering. It's a bit out of date, but it's not hard to catch up. We're still mercenaries, but it's nice to have something to do between jobs."
Maggie made a noise of acknowledgement, then looked at the other side of the table at Sam. "And you're Sam Wilson, I caught that when you came in. How do you fit in with the Avengers?"
"Occasional guest at the Tower, but otherwise far away because I can't keep up with superheroes," Sam said. "They run faster than I do, and that's bad for survival. Zombie movie rule number one."
Maria looked at him. "I'm sure you don't run any slower than Sharon or I do. Keep visiting the Tower, and you'll be made an honorary Avenger who mans the DC branch."
"Solo watch duty, hm?" Sam nodded to himself, making a thinking noise. "Well, at least the bedding accommodations are better than the last time I was in the field, taking up stupid missions." He looked at Bucky. "Just remember, your girlfriend volunteered me."
Maggie's eyebrows shot up. "Girlfriend? Winter, did you finally find someone?"
Bucky studied her for a second, trying to determine if there was any jealousy there. If there were, that'd make dinner very uncomfortable, and future visits difficult. Deciding that if Maggie was jealous at all, she was very good at hiding it, he answered her with a shit-eating grin. "I did. She puts up with my dumb ass."
Maria, closer than Sam or Bruce, held out her hand to Maggie. "Maria Hill."
Maggie shook her hand. "Nice to meet you, Maria. I hope you're taking care of our Winter. He's a keeper."
"He's been tolerable," Maria answered that tone that Bucky had come to learn was deadpan snark.
Tolerable. He show her tolerable. He reached his cold metal hand down and pressed it against her lower back under the edge of her shirt.
She jumped with a yelp, then glared at him. "You keep doing that, and you'll find yourself on the couch."
"Good luck with that," he said. "You live in your own place."
"And you won't be welcome there."
Other customers were trickling in about then, the dinner rush starting, and Maggie had to excuse herself to the kitchen with a promise to see them off once they were ready to leave. Their food arrived shortly thereafter, Maggie seeing to them personally, albeit with help from Emily. There were far too many plates for Maggie to carry by herself, even with her tray.
"Here's your usuals, boys," she said, setting down Steve's chili and Bucky's salad. "Chili that is very hot, be careful, Steve, and my original salad for Winter." She looked about ready to explode into tiny pieces of joy, getting to serve them that food again.
Maria looked at Bucky once Maggie had gone back to her job. "She calls you Winter?"
Bucky paused with a fork full of strawberry and spinach halfway to his mouth. "She didn't know my name until we moved from here," he said. "Really wasn't anything else she could call me. It's probably just habit to keep calling me that." He shoved that bite of food into his mouth, then pointed his fork at her. "You're jealous," he said.
"I am not jealous," Maria said, raising one eyebrow at him in challenge. "I just found it an odd nickname. It reminded me of the Winter Warlock from the old Christmas claymation special about Santa Claus."
The other three more modern people started laughing hysterically. Steve looked confused, while Bucky stared at Maria, trying to decide if that statement warranted revenge or not. He decided on vengeance. "I'll get you back later."
Maria looked at Steve. "Does he always threaten his lady friends?"
Steve still looked vaguely confused by the Santa Claus joke. "Only the ones that stick around long enough to become actual girlfriends," he said. "And I think that was less of a threat and more of a promise."
"Okay." Bucky looked over at Sam and Bruce, then across at Sharon. "Who wants to explain the Santa Claus thing to us old fogies?"
Sam laughed again. "It's a kids Christmas special from decades ago, probably about ten, maybe twenty years after you two went under. It explained the Santa myth, why he goes down chimneys, why he wears that red and white disco suit. There was an evil warlock that made some parts of a mountain pass inaccessible because he was a giant jerkface, named Winter Warlock. Kris Kringle talked him into being good, and so Winter showed him how to make these creepy, all-seeing crystal balls out of snow. Also had magic corn that made reindeer fly. Basically, he was a plot device."
Bucky whipped his head back around to give his girlfriend the evil eye. "I am definitely getting you back."
Maria gave him an amused smile that belonged on that of a brat that really deserved to be turned over someone's knee, but was probably going to just get another cold hand to a warm spot when least expecting it. "I didn't say you were a plot device, you know. I just said the name reminded me of the show. Now, eat your salad before your greens get soft and mushy from the dressing."
As the restaurant filled up and became noisier from other patrons, their own conversations dwindled off, eating and getting out becoming more of a priority. Maggie stopped by, regretful that it would only be briefly, to make sure their food had been fine and to dismiss their check.
"Mama, we weren't smart enough to try to get a reservation at a hotel before we left New York," Steve said after Maggie had talked them down from paying despite her assurances that it was on the house. "Is there a hotel anywhere nearby that's likely to have rooms open?"
Maggie looked thoughtful. "There's a Hampton Inn about a mile away, southwest of here. I've sent diners there before, and they always come back the next day to say thank you. You guys enjoy your stay, come see me again soon. I hate to run on you, but my kitchen just got busy on me." She gave them a brilliant smile before running back to her job.
The group left a hundred dollars on the table in twenties and tens to pay for the food in defiance of Maggie's generosity and to leave a sizable tip for whoever Maggie decided to divvy it to, then left. Steve and Bucky said goodbye to Annamarie on their way out the door.
The parking lot was crowded, and Bucky was glad to see Maggie's business doing so well, although he worried she might have to hire more crew.
"So are you guys just planning on having a pajama party at the hotel for the rest of the evening?" Sam asked once they'd reached the cars.
"You got an idea?" Bucky asked, crossing his arms.
"Have you guys seen the World War II memorial yet? It's not like the Vietnam Wall, you won't see any names on it, but you might find it interesting."
"I don't know about the others, but Bucky and I haven't seen it," Steve said. "We've passed it on runs, but it's never been something either of us have been up for stopping at when we're in the area."
Sam leaned back against his car. "If you think it wouldn't be too much on top of the museum tomorrow, we could get you guys checked into your hotel, then go wander around it. Have you two ever gone to the National Mall to do anything but run?"
Bucky shook his head. "Briefly with Tony and Pepper when they visited last year, but we didn't really linger anywhere. I think Tony just had us wandering around because he's a smartass, trying to pull the 'that's what tourists do' line. He didn't make Pepper's feet happy with him."
"Then why don't we go wander the area for real?" Sam said. "I know we're familiar with it, but our esteemed doctor, bodyguard, and girlfriend might not have."
"I've seen it," Sharon said, "but it might be nice to get the perspective of someone who was there." She looked up at Steve. "Care to play educator to your girlfriend?"
Steve looked at the others. "I guess I don't mind."
"I haven't seen the area more than in passing," Maria said.
"And I haven't seen it at all," Bruce added. "It would be nice to get a tour while I'm on vacation here."
Sam clapped his hands together once, rubbing them like he'd just come up with a sinister plan. "Right, check in first, unload bags, get our asses over to the Mall, play tourists."
Steve lifted his arms in a shrug. "Then I guess that's the plan. Bucky, you've got the phone, find that Hampton Inn that Mama mentioned for us." He looked at Sam. "Do you wanna meet at the Mall, or follow us to the hotel?"
"I'll meet you at the Mall," Sam said. "Just lemme know if it'll be longer. I'll assume you found another army to fight and send in the National Guard to back you up."
Bruce got a bland smile on his face that belied how amused he actually was. "Oh, don't worry. If we find an army, the National Guard would be better off evacuating civilians. We won't need their back up."
"Yeah, that's what scares me," Sam said. "Get outta here. I'll see you at the Mall."
They parted ways, Sam going to find something resembling parking within acceptable walking distance of the Mall, and the others pausing long enough for Bucky to locate that hotel and a back up one in case their first choice was full.
"Maybe we should've called ahead," Sharon said from the back seat once they were moving again.
"Where's the fun in that?" Steve said, navigating the neighborhood.
Bucky watched the streets go by, marking names as he counted the distance to the next turn. "If it comes to it, we'll crash with Sam, because he just loves us all so much."
Steve reached over to give Bucky's arm a lazy swat, only for his hand to snap sharply against the metal. He swore and shook his hand.
Bucky laughed. "Two years, Steve. One of these days you'll remember."
Steve decided not to dignify that, if his grumble of discontent followed by a pointed silence was any indication. Bucky laughed at him again. Steve almost reach out to shove at him again, but caught himself. That only made Bucky laugh harder.
"We're getting treated to the interactions of the oldest married couple on the planet," Sharon said. "It'd be cute, if it weren't too busy being ridiculous."
"It's certainly peculiar," Bruce agreed.
Steve made a grumpy noise. "None of you are helping."
"I remained silent," Maria pointed out.
"You also weren't helping," Steve said.
"I wasn't aware I was obligated to."
Bucky almost answered her, but the street name a block away caught his attention. "Turn left there," he said. "it'll be a couple blocks away on the right." Once Steve had followed his directions, Bucky tilted his head back to address Maria, which was only marginally successful. She was sitting behind him this time. "Never help him," he said. "He deserves all the abuse I can give him."
He could picture the smile on her face with her tone. "And you deserve what he heaps on you."
"I won't deny that."
Conversation stopped as Steve pulled up to the hotel, parking in front of the door. "I'll go see if they have any rooms available."
"Not a bad looking place," Bruce said once Steve had entered the building.
Bucky peered up at it through his window. "I've definitely stayed in worse. The dinky place Natasha took us to in Indiana was pitiful. The dining room in our old apartment was bigger, and we had to share the room with her. Not the most comfortable night I've ever had."
"When was this?" Maria asked.
Bucky turned in his seat, safer now that they weren't driving, and looked at her. "When we ran off to Nebraska after Hydra started releasing that information on me. We stopped halfway there because she needed rest. She was about ready to run us off the road with how tired she was. Of course, she wouldn't let Steve take over, because we weren't allowed to know where we were going until we got past Illinois."
Sharon raised an eyebrow. "Did she say why?"
"Steve's a terrible liar and apparently Illinois has annoying law enforcement. She didn't want anything slipping if we got pulled over. Which we did."
Bruce frowned. "Natasha's good at avoiding the law, how'd she manage to get pulled over?"
Bucky shrugged. "One of the taillights was out. It wasn't screwed in tight. Nothing big. I think the electric system needed an overhaul. The car was-" He stopped to think, trying to remember what year Natasha said that car had been made in. "Thirteen years old, I think. And it was a cheap Chevy with shitty shocks."
Maria looked amused. "You sound less than impressed."
"My ass was a bruise by the time we got to Nebraska," he griped. He turned again to look at the hotel, watching Steve through the glass doors. Steve was at the front counter, messing with his wallet and handing a card over to the front desk worker. "Looks like he got us rooms," he said.
"Good," Sharon said, leaning over Maria's lap to look out the window. "It's a nice place, and it's convenient." She looked at Maria. "Think it'll come with a nice tub for us ladies?"
Maria glanced out the window as Sharon sat back up. "I'll leave the bath to you, I prefer showers."
And there were mental images that Bucky was not sharing. Not unless he wanted to be maimed by a couple of women with nasty claws. He begged his brain to find something new to focus on. Getting regular sex had turned his head back into a resident of the shores of Lake Titicaca like it had been in the Army. It was going to get him into trouble if his mind ever started thinking in words properly.
Steve returned, four plastic cards in paper slips in hand, and got into the car. He handed two of them to Sharon, then two to Bucky. "Here're the keys. We're in 247 and 249. They're taking a cot bed up to 247 for the guys. Ladies, you're in 249. Hope you don't mind sharing a bed, they didn't have any rooms with more than one bed left."
Sharon shook her head. "I'm fine with that."
"We're government agents," Maria said, taking one of the key cards from Sharon. "You get used to odd sleeping arrangements on occasion."
Bags were gathered and taken in, up the elevator and down the hall to their rooms, where they were promptly abandoned, locked up in the rooms until they returned later. Nobody took the time to unpack, not with Sam waiting for them at the Mall.
Back into the car, out of the parking lot, down the street and out of the neighborhood to the more touristy section of town.
Bucky grabbed the phone to contact Sam. "Where are you parked?" he asked upon Sam's greeting.
"Not really any closer than your hotel," Sam said. "Assuming you got rooms there. You'd be fine just staying there."
"Already on the road, and yes, we got rooms," Bucky said. "Where'd you park? We'll meet you."
Sam gave him directions that Bucky memorized on an internal map. Once certain he wouldn't get them lost, he hung up and directed Steve back around, almost all the way to the hotel. Sam wasn't kidding about not leaving there in the first place.
Sam was waiting patiently when they arrived, leaning back against the back of his car. "Man, even in the dinner hour, this place is packed," he said once everyone was out of the car. "You guys really should've come up with this idea before school got out."
"It was a spur of the moment idea," Steve said. "One of Bucky's, so if this goes wrong, you know who to blame."
"Funny, Rogers." Bucky looked around. "This is the closest parking to the Mall?"
"Yeah, except a five car parking lot over by the Washington monument, and I can guarantee it's full." He looked at Steve. "I didn't realize how literal I was being about you could park at your hotel. You got here fast."
"We didn't have to find another hotel," Steve said. "And it's not far away. I'm kinda impressed they had rooms at all. It's the height of tourist season."
"Luck was on your side," Sam said. "Just hope the fact that they had open rooms doesn't mean that it's a shitty hotel that tourists avoid."
Maria surprised Bucky by walking over to him and taking his hand. "The rooms seemed satisfactory to me."
Bucky gave her a small smile, giving her hand a squeeze before entwining his fingers with hers. She didn't do a lot of public displays of affection, and he was never one to turn it down when she did. If anyone noticed, none of them acted like it.
It was mid-June, so the evening air was warm. Being the dinner hour, most of the other tourists were at various restaurants. It didn't entirely leave the Mall empty, but it wasn't crowded like it was during the day. Which was just fine for the six of them; vacations were more pleasant when not spent fighting through crowds with children and cameras.
They paused across the street from the Washington Memorial, Bucky tilting his head back to see the top. "Was there ever a reason why they chose the most phallic shape possible for that? Was he known for that or something?"
"I think the Nebraska state capitol building was worse," Steve said. "It had a dome and everything."
Bucky thought about that for a second. "Yeah, I see that. It was also shiny."
"You serious?" Sam asked, sounding like he wouldn't believe it without photographic evidence. Which he apparently decided to look up, as he grabbed his phone and started searching. Bruce and Sharon gathered around his sides to look over his shoulders. After about thirty seconds, they both busted up laughing, Sam staring in bewilderment at his phone. "Who the hell thought that was a good idea?"
Maria held out her hand for the phone. "Let me see," she said, not moving to let go of Bucky's hand with her other.
Sam handed over the phone. "I take no responsibility for offense taken for that thing."
Maria studied the picture on the phone for a moment. "What is that statue on top?" She scrolled, then paused. Then pursed her lips. "It's apparently a statue of a man sowing seeds from an apron called 'the Sower'."
"What?" Sam took his phone back and stared at it. "Oh my god, Nebraska, what the hell is wrong with you." He looked at Bucky. "And you think Washington's virility was in question with this thing?" He motioned up to the monument, then held up his phone. "He obviously had less to compensate for than whoever designed this monstrosity."
"Granted," Bucky said. "What is the reason they decided on an obelisk?"
Sam's phone came to the rescue again. "According to nps.gov, it's supposed to embody 'the awe, respect, and gratitude the nation felt for its most essential Founding Father.' It also isn't supposed to stand in anything else's shadow, because Washington didn't. Which, you know, I'm willing to bet someone was greater in this country than him. Dude owned slaves. That sounds like a shadow to me."
Steve looked back up at the monument. "I'd say 'nobody's perfect', but that doesn't begin to be appropriate on that subject. Come on, let's leave the slave-owner's white penis to the sunset and see that World War II memorial you mentioned."
They meandered away, not far, into a circular area- actually, more oval than round - surrounded by fifty pillars, two archway constructs on each side, one marked 'Pacific', the other 'Atlantic'. In the center was a pool lined with small fountains, two larger fountains near the archways, all arcing water up into a single pool. Across the way from them was a wall covered in stars. Slowly, they worked their way around one side of the ring, the Atlantic side, reading state names on each of the pillars.
To one side of the wall of stars was an engraved stand. Bruce pulled on his glasses, studying the writing on the stand. "'Freedom Wall holds 4,048 gold stars. Each gold star represents one hundred American service personnel who died or remain missing in the war. The 405,399 American dead and missing from World War II are second only to the loss of more than 620,000 Americans during our Civil War.'" He pulled off his glasses. "That's a lot of good men and women."
"When was this built?" Steve asked, studying the stars on the wall.
"Early nineties, I think" Sam said. "I was a kid when the cranes came out."
Bucky looked at Steve, then back at the stand. "They can fix that number. Two of them are ours. We've been found."
Maria's grip on Bucky's hand tightened.
"That's probably easier to fix than it would be if this was set up like the Vietnam Wall," Bruce said, tone respectful of the solemn atmosphere. "They have names engraved on the Vietnam Wall."
Bucky made a rude noise. "They'd have to get out a chisel and cross our names out." It was a vague attempt at humor on a subject that didn't hold much for him.
Steve exhaled, a quick puff of air with a derisive sort of amusement to it. "Bucky, shut up."
"Yes, Captain."
The north balustrade of the ceremonial entrance wall had bas-relief panels on it; a later check proved the south side had the same. The north wall's panels were images related to the war efforts for the Atlantic theatre of the war.
"Hey, the B-17s" Sam said, pointing at one that had a large bomber in the background with men in flight suits in the foreground. "You two hear of the Memphis Belle? She was the most famous one of them."
"I've heard of her," Steve said. "Second crew to fly twenty-five successful missions on one craft. There was one that beat her, but she was the one that came home to sell bonds. She was running her circuit about the same time that I was. Met Captain Morgan once. Good guy."
"How'd we go from the Memphis Belle to rum?" Sam asked.
Steve looked at him, confusion on his face for a few seconds. "Oh! No, not that Captain Morgan. Robert Morgan, captain of the crew that flew on the Belle."
"I suppose that can't be any worse of a name association than Harry Potter at this point," Bruce said. "Or Potter anything, actually. Too bad, Colonel Potter from M*A*S*H* was a good character."
"Another show I'm trying to catch up on," Bucky said. "Bruce, I think I may have to take a few days off from working just to do that. There's still a lot of pop culture history I have to catch up on."
Bruce smiled. "You'll need a lot more than a few days to get through all of M*A*S*H*. It was a long-running series."
"Then however long," Bucky said. "We're hitting some dead ends anyway."
They walked away from the memorial, choosing a direction to go arbitrarily. Their conversation ebbed and flowed as they went. Sam occasionally had to pull out his phone to look up information as an improvised tour guide.
"So who wants to go get their picture taken sitting on Lincoln's lap?" Sam said, earning a few sideways looks. He completely deserved them.
"I think we'll all pass," Maria said.
"You guys have no sense of fun," Sam said in a mock pout.
"Fun is not getting cheesy touristy pictures taken of me," Bucky said. "Or any pictures. I swear, if I see that camera pointed at me, you are eating it."
Sam held up the phone, then lowered it and laughed when Bucky reached for it with his left hand. "Okay, okay, it was a joke."
"Here, let me save Sam from his own bad humor," Sharon said, backing up a bit to look at the full building instead of close enough to see nothing but President Lincoln. "I didn't realize this really had all the state names on it. I thought that was just anti-counterfeit precautions."
"Really?" Sam asked. "Yeah, this thing has them all."
"Until Puerto Rico finally decides to become a state," Steve said.
"With as many times that that issue has come on the ballot and shot down, I doubt that'll be any day soon," Sam said. "Come on, there's more to see than this." He looked at Bucky. "You up for the Korean War memorial? It's on the way around."
Bucky shrugged. "It doesn't bother me. My brother survived the war, he's not going to be a name on it."
"Truth," Sam said, moving to lead them around.
"You'd make a good tour guide," Bruce said. "You've certainly stepped up now."
Sam held up his phone. "This is the one doing the work. And I've visited this place, everyone else here hasn't or never paid attention to it."
The Korean Memorial was far smaller and very different from the WWII memorial. There was a reflective wall that a statue of nineteen soldiers were place to reflect off of, giving the illusion of more soldiers. Steve and Sam stopped at the pool that Bucky had only spared a glance to, more interested in the wall that had sandblasted pictures on it.
"Lotta names in this pool," Steve said behind them. Bucky looked back at them briefly.
"The Vietnam Wall's worse," Sam said. "Korea was a short war. Vietnam lasted way too long."
Bucky turned back to the wall, noting out of the corner of his eye that Bruce was looking at the other wall, and Sharon was preoccupied the statues.
The images on the wall were old photographs, men and women who served. Doctors with surgical masks, officers in uniform with their stripes shown proudly, enlisted men in combat fatigues. One picture drew Bucky's attention and he stopped breathing for a few heartbeats. "That's my brother."
The others joined him and Maria, forcing the two of them to take a slight step to the side to avoid being too crowded.
"That one?" Bruce asked, pointing to Peter's picture.
"Yeah, that's Peter." Bucky stared at the picture, the crisp Navy uniform, the stripes and the hat and the proud Barnes face. A half smile tugged at his lips. "Sonuvabitch outranked me."
Sharon turned her head from leaning around Sam's shoulder to look at Bucky. "What rank was he?"
"Lieutenant," Bucky said. "In the Navy, that's an Army Captain."
"He's aged well since then," Bruce said, straightening from studying the picture. "Did either of your other siblings serve?"
Bucky didn't answer at first, breaking his rule about no pictures and taking one of Peter's face on the wall, then shook his head. "No. My nephew, Paul's youngest, served in Vietnam, though. Got caught in a trou de loup set up by the VietCong, died from the injuries pretty much on the spot. His name's on the Vietnam Wall, willing to bet. Hope nobody minds if I don't want to go looking for it."
Steve put a hand on Bucky's metal shoulder, on Bucky's opposite side from Maria. "I don't think anyone's going to mind, Bucky. There's already a lot here for us to absorb."
"What was his name?" Sam asked, starting to not-so-subtly lead them away from the memorial.
"Greg," Bucky said. "Got drafted in '65, sent over to just south of the DMZ line."
"Your brother must've told you all this," Bruce said, following the group back around the Mall towards where they started.
The sun was almost set, red sky making the shadows take on eerie proportions, stretched long across the ground. Bucky had a feeling that Sam was purposely leading them away from the Mall and back in the direction of their cars to put an end to the day before more unpleasant feelings got drudged up.
"Yeah, he's caught me up on a lot of things that I missed," Bucky said. "He made a few noises in the past about trying to convince me to meet some of these people, but he stopped. And I don't really want to, anyway. I'm not really part of them. Blood doesn't always mean anything when it comes to family." He glanced at Steve, who gave him a simple smile in return.
"No, it doesn't," Sam agreed. He looked at his watch. "It's about nine, I think we've had enough trips down memory lane for everyone for the night. The Smithsonian doesn't open until ten, that gives us plenty of time to meet up tomorrow, maybe around eight, grab some breakfast before the doors open. Whaddya say, time to call it a night?"
There was a general noise of consensus from the others.
"Where do you wanna meet for breakfast?" Steve asked.
Sam thought for a second. "I know you guys probably wouldn't mind seeing Mama again, but in the name of not making the girlfriends jealous, we should probably choose somewhere else for breakfast. There's a diner just south of my place- you know the area, Steve -that serves all day. It's a local place, there's a couple other locations in town. Called 'American Way Diner.'"
"I've heard of them," Steve said. "Text us the address when you get home, we'll meet you there at eight."
Plans decided, they walked the long mile to their cars, then parted ways upon reaching the parking lot, Sam heading home and the others to their hotel. At the hotel it was up the elevator, down the hall, all in relative silence. It'd been a tiring evening emotionally, they were all dragging a bit and wanting to have a little time to destress before sleeping.
Bruce went into the mens' room first, leaving Steve and Bucky to give their respective girlfriends a goodnight kiss before joining him.
There was one bed, queen sized, which meant Steve and Bucky wouldn't be practically snuggling like they had been in Nebraska, and the requested cot bed that looked too comfortable for the word 'cot' for Bruce was already set up and ready on the other side of the night stand from the main bed. There was a TV on a rather elaborate dresser, a desk with a single chair and the room phone, and a small love seat on the other side of the bed from the cot.
After everyone had changed, Steve and Bruce settled on the couch to watch the TV and wind down, while Bucky grabbed his tablet, plugged in the wireless password, and started doing his normal nightly rounds of the trending news. He sat himself on the corner of the bed closest to Steve and Bruce, legs crossed underneath him.
Most of the news was celebrity garbage, as usual, and he only took note of it for the sake of knowing the inevitable jokes the internet would make about all of it.
While the real news pages loaded, he sent the picture he took of the memorial to his brother. Did you know you're on the Korean Memorial?
Setting down the phone, he looked back at the loaded pages with actual interesting news, like the confirmation of another Ebola case in New York, which Bucky promptly warned Bruce he was not allowed to get involved with.
"Don't worry, I'm not a virologist," Bruce said. "And I don't want to risk exposing you guys to it."
"Good," Bucky said. "You have your measles shot, too, right?"
"I do," Bruce said. "As well as other vaccinations to survive being a doctor. Why? Is the measles plague still running rampant?"
"Twenty more cases in New York City," Bucky said. "In the name of not ranting all night, I'll keep my thoughts on the anti-vaccine movement to myself."
"You'd be preaching to the choir," Steve said.
The phone buzzed; Peter had replied. I never told you? They asked my permission to put me up there.
Bucky frowned at the phone. No, you never told me. Brat.
You're in DC?
Just for one night. We're going back to NYC tomorrow after we're done at the Smithsonian. I'll visit you again, relax.
Bucky set the phone aside when there was no immediate response, going back to poking around social media sites and odd news sites, until something passed by his scrolling so fast that he had no idea what it was, but knew it'd been odd enough for a second look. He scrolled back up and immediately shrank back, dropping his tablet on his lap. "What the fuck!"
Steve gave him a stern look. "You tell me what you found and you're sleeping on the floor."
"I won't tell you," Bucky said, picking his tablet back up. He turned it to show it to Steve and Bruce. "I'll show you."
Steve physically recoiled at the picture, an uncensored picture of a man's penis with a two inch diameter rubber snake sticking out of the urethra. "Oh god, why would an- please tell me I'm not seeing that."
Bruce pulled on his glasses and stared at the picture. "That's wider than a normal catheter. I hoped he used more lube than otherwise needed."
Steve stared at Bruce in horror. "That's what you notice?"
Bruce looked at him over the tops of his glasses, a mild look of amusement on his face. "I'm a doctor. The things I have seen."
Bucky turned his tablet back around, staring at the picture in horror. "The caption says the rubber snake is fifteen inches in, and somewhere in the guy's bladder." He gave Bruce a dismayed look. "Is that even possible?"
"Oh, that's a rubber snake?" Bruce said as if the idea that it'd been a real one wasn't any weirder than a rubber one. "That's good. Still not terribly hygienic, and he's likely to have his urethra shredded when he pulls it out, with the texture of that thing. But to answer your question, yes, it is. The average male catheter is sixteen inches, so yes, a rubber snake in fifteen inches would probably be in the bladder, or very close."
Steve shuddered. "Bucky, where the hell did you find that?"
"On a social media site that had an article about a domestic violence campaign going on right now," Bucky said. "I don't even begin to know why this showed up there." He closed the browser and turned off his tablet. "I'm done with the internet for the night. Too much awful right now. I'm not even willing to send that to Peter right now."
Buzz. Speaking of the devil.
You might want to sleep now, if you're going to try to survive the Smithsonian. The renovated Captain America exhibit is going to be a nightmare for you.
Bucky frowned at the phone. "Okay, Peter just warned me to get sleep. I'm going to be contrary and we're watching the Weather Channel until my brain manages to put that snake on the table and kill it."
"Good," Steve said. "I don't need more nightmare fuel."
"How do you think I feel?" Bucky demanded. "I was innocently looking at social justice causes and suddenly get assaulted with that. And no, I was not goddamn suffering that alone."
"Jackass," Steve snarled.
"You're a bad person," Bruce agreed, although he didn't look like he was agreeing as much as just playing along because he thought their pain was funny.
Bucky shook his head and got up, grabbing the TV remote from Steve. "Don't blame me. Now shut up, we're going to just watch the damn Weather Channel."