milliways_bar | (no subject)

"Sounds about right," he murmurs. "I remember you said you knew something about what it was like."

He doesn't push, but the steady look in his eyes, the way he waits and gives her all the room she needs, makes it clear that he wants to listen, if she wants to talk.

A half-smile tucks itself into the corner of her mouth, and she takes a last drink before setting her bottle down. "I imagine you 'n your pals caught quite a bit of attention from the wrong sort of folks, back in the day," she comments.

"Well, we did, too. One of them was a fella who went by the name Killer Shark – he hated Blackhawk and the others and we had more than one dust up with him while he was runnin' free."

"We did," he agrees, and leaves it at that for now. "Killer Shark? Hell of a name."

"One thing those rogues had in common was a flair for the dramatic," she tells him. "Anyhow, like I said, he hated the Blackhawks, but he couldn't find a good way to get to 'em. I don't know how he found it – if he told me I don't remember, all my memories from that time are kinda fuzzy – but he got a hold of some, I guess you'd call it a potion, of some kind? It basically flipped a person's personality; turned a good one bad."

She shrugs. "Anyhow, the long and short of it was he showed up while I was on a goodwill tour, knowin' I'd chase him. I did, more fool me, and got caught in a trap. He gave me the potion after that."

He shifts position so that he can lay his right hand over one of hers, and squeezes gently. He can imagine all too well the horror of being trapped, and then poisoned and lost.

"How long?" Very quietly.

"Not long, that time." She squeezes his hand back and smiles warmly at him.

"And I don't remember most of it." That's a blessing: she doesn't have to live with the memories of fighting her friends or living with Killer Shark and his depraved love for her. "Bits and pieces here and there. I guess he realized he got more than a weapon the Blackhawks wouldn't hurt; in his own twisted way he fell in love with me and got the Queen he wanted at his side. He and Queen Killer Shark tormented them until Bart shot my plane down – the shock brought me back to myself."

That time. Dread uncoils in the pit of his stomach, and he hopes she’s only meant that particular conflict, not that she’s had her self stolen more than once.

“I’m glad they brought you back,” he murmurs. “Even if you had to lose a perfectly good plane in the process.”

"It was Killer Shark's plane," she tells him. "I'm not too broken up about it."

She uncurls her fingers to pat his hand, comfortingly. "You sure you don't mind hearin' this, sugar? I can see how it might hit too close to home for you."

"I'm sure," he promises. "Unless you don't want to talk about it. But I don't mind."

"Okay, then."

In for a penny... "The doctors, they told Blackhawk and the others I needed rest and quiet, so the boys took me to Blackhawk Island and kept watch every hour of the day and night, all out of sight, so I wouldn't worry."

Her smile flashes, a little wistful and a lot warm. "Those were sweet days. I lay out on the beach and walked the jungles with Bart; we swam in the water and played games like kids. And every day I got a little better and a little stronger."

Edited 2021-10-12 17:41 (UTC)

"Good for them." It's not hard to imagine that her squad would have been protective while she was recovering from what he knows had to have been an awful ordeal. Hearing her describe the course of her days makes him think about his own in Wakanda, and he squeezes her hand again.

"You'd never find a better batch of boys," Zinda says, loyally.

"But Killer Shark wouldn't give up so easy. He snuck up on us in a sub. He had some kinda – laser, I guess it was? Particle generator? – anyhow, whatever it was shot a kind of concentrated version of what he hit me with before. Problem was, he didn't get me with it: he got Bart."

He can't help it; as Zinda tells him what happened, in his mind's eye he sees Sharon and Steve in the cryo chambers and has to fight to keep from being ill. His hand tightens on hers.

"Were you able to snap him out of it?"

"Not then," she says, gently, and lets him hold onto her. "I faked like he'd gotten me, too, so I could go with them, try'n keep Bart out of too much trouble. Seeing him like that, so subservient, so... cruel – "

She shakes her head. "It was awful. I had to do something. So I played the game for a few weeks and when I got the chance I ran to the ray gun to hit him with it again. But it was inside the sub and the particles got caught, and – "

Zinda meets Bucky's eyes, and her own are haunted, pools of blue sorrow. "It worked. I had to do it, didn't? Whatever happened to me. I had to get him out."

"Of course you did," he murmurs, and shifts to give her a quick, supportive hug. "Believe me, I understand."

She sighs out and lets her eyes close for a moment, though when he pulls away again she's smiling, wry.

"It worked, anyhow," she says. "Blackhawk came back to himself, but I went back under. And then it was only Queen Killer Shark for – oh, months and months. A year or more."

"A year can be a long, long time," he observes, his tone just as wry as her smile. "I'm glad you got out."

Obviously she has, or else she wouldn't be here and now, the sweet, cheerful and kindhearted person that she is.

"Please tell me this Killer Shark's been dealt with."

"You know, I heard he was still alive? Old and sick. I heard he even had a family once he got out of the clink."

She shakes her head and goes back to her beer. "Used to write me love letters from prison. I tossed 'em all."

"Smart lady." He smiles at her. "Not that that's a surprise. Not even a little bit."

She looks visibly ill.

"I don't remember all of what we got up to together when I was under," she says, "but it sure seemed to have rung his bell."

And she's pretty sure it wasn't just holding hands. She scowls for a moment, then shakes it off. "Anyhow, now you know."

"Hey." He keeps his hand on hers, but doesn't try to hold on if she wants to pull away, especially now. "He can go straight to hell. You know that, right?"

"Bless you, honey."

She smiles warmly at him and gives his hand a squeeze. "It was so long ago. He's an old man now; maybe he regrets his evil ways. Anyhow, I try not to worry myself about him. It's not worth thinkin' about."

It doesn't surprise him in the slightest that Zinda's got a more generous spirit than he does. "Fair enough," he agrees. "So tell me something good from what's going on with you now. Gotten a lot more air time in the Aerie One?"

She looks rueful. "Some," she admits.

"But to tell you the truth, it's been sorta lousy back home for the past little while. Huntress and the Canary had a squabble with the Skipper and now everybody's off cooling their heels separately."

He winces at that. "Sorry to hear it. What's everyone all up in arms about?"