Jurassic City - Network

Logan, you were great and all, but I hope you won't mind that I'm glad to not be stuck with you any more.

I know you're inconsolable, but I promise we'll get together for drinks again soon.

Romanoff, I feel like sparring to celebrate my freedom. You busy?

rogers.

Hey, stranger.

Why are there so many new people at once? Is there a hole somewhere they all fell through?

Maybe we should up patrols sweep through outside more, look for anyone else dropping in.

[Filtered Against Daisy and Ward]
What do you do to date someone now? It's been most of a century since I took anyone out and the rules changed.

So, I doubt my post will get as many comments as the last one but I have some photos to share. Being a dead former secret agent, I never really had an instagram. I'm embracing what it would have been.

( here they are )

Well, that was terrible.

Luckily, I'm used to being on the run.

Well that was about six shades of something I never want to fight through again.

Back to dinosaurs, huh?

I guess this is about as close to a vacation as I'm ever gonna get. How long was I out?

I still haven't had a chance to learn all the in's and out's of this place. Does anyone know if there's a place where you can dance. Like us old-timers used to, I mean. Are dance halls still a thing or is it all clubs now?

Peggy

I'm kind of awful at hiding my hand here, but I'm pretty sure I remember it being someone's birthday today. And I'm also pretty sure I owe her a dance.

When I get my hands on Howard Stark, I am going to be very cross. That man is the most infuriating genius I have ever met.

I don't even want to know how he managed this mess.

On a scale from killer robots to space whales, I'm trying to decide where actual dinosaurs fit in on my list of weird things that have happened to me. Somewhere in the middle, maybe.

Sometimes I miss the old days when the craziest thing out there was me.

So I guess I've been kidnapped. And there are probably dinosaurs.

What could possibly go wrong?

I'm honestly not sure how to live without a war.

I remember, when Wanda got in my head, I saw things. Things that I had always thought I wanted. Peggy. The idea of Peggy. Settling down after the war and having a family. I thought, back then, that I could have something like that. I still don't know if those were things I actually wanted or if it was just knowing that I was expected to want certain things.

People have this idea that I'm a good person. That I'm moral and righteous and that people should aspire to be like me. I don't understand it. The only time I've ever really felt alive or complete is when I'm fighting. Even when I was sick and thin and got the shit kicked out of me in every back alley in Brooklyn, I only really felt like life made sense when I was fighting. It's probably screwed up. I don't know. I wanted to go to war and I wanted to make a difference, and I told Erskine that it wasn't that I wanted to fight, but I think I was lying to him.

Maybe it's because I lost so much time, but I don't think I ever really left the war behind. I'm not sure I even know how to. It's all there, in my head. All that happened. All the people I couldn't save. And I have to wonder what was the point of it all. I gave up everything to stop HYDRA, only to find out that I hadn't stopped anything. That HYDRA had thrived. That people I cared about had died. That SHIELD, the organization the people I loved built, had fallen to secrets and lies and corruption. That my best friend, my brother in everything but blood, had been turned into a weapon and used by them. That none of it really mattered. I'm so tired and I don't know how to do anything but fight. I just keep waiting for the next battle because it's the only thing that makes sense in the world.

I'm stuck. In the ice too. I feel like I'm constantly too cold. I feel like I can't even breathe sometimes. I can barely take a shower without remembering the crash. I dream about it. About losing Bucky. About losing everyone. And I don't know how to deal with it most days. The world is so different than I remember, but it's the parts that are the same that are the hardest. The violence and the war and the intolerance and all the things we fought to change. What was the point of it all? Most days, I just can't see it. I wonder a lot how much America would want me as their hero if they knew I'm an angry, disappointed queer man who doesn't give a shit about reclaiming this idea of America some of them have built up in their head.

But there are people. Good people. And they make it almost bearable. I have friends who have my back. I have Peggy, who I never thought I'd get to see again. I have Bucky, who is a better man than he'll ever admit to being. I have Nat, who makes me laugh when I thought I forgot how and who gives me shit and is a better friend than I deserve. And there's Sam, who I'm so grateful for that I don't have the words. Who makes me want to be better. Who understands me. Who makes me feel good on my worst days. And as terrifying as it is to think about loving someone when I'm so convinced I'm going to lose everyone, I think I'm in love with him.

As nice as this place is, for somewhere that I was forced to be against my will, I must admit, I find myself at a bit of a loose end here. Besides work, I'm not certain what to do. Not that that's much different than my life back home, but at least there, there were innumerable distractions.

I like it here. It's hot, and the dinosaurs are very strange, but there are worse places to be, I suppose.

I started classes at the University. I'm looking forward to continuing my education. Now, I just need a job.

I'm not sure what's going on, but I am sure that dinosaurs are always a terrible idea. I know because pop culture has taught me this.

I already ruled this out as hallucination, mind control dream, or some form of hysteria, so now I'm just leaning toward insane, but officially not my brand of insane, and therefor not my fault.

So, who's running this joint? Please tell me it's not a T-Rex. Or actually, tell me it was, it'd make my day better.

Holy shit dinosaurs. I'm gonna need a gun bigger than my torso and about ten people who taste better than me to all sit near me right now. Some beefy, slow types. Help a bro out here. My survival is good for the human race.

And what the fuck, how much did I drink last night and who are all of you and what was with the white room and the chick in it who didn't tell me squat about the answers to any of that?

For fuck sake.

It's not that I don't understand that this situation is out of anyone's control, and I absolutely respect that.

But I really don't have time for this shit.