Chapter Text
“I’m sure we can come to an agreeable arrangement,’’ Logan Howlett spoke the Japanese words carefully, enunciating each word as he led Bucky in precise Tai Chi movements.
“I’m sure we can come to an agreeable arrangement,” the children repeated, also following Logan’s movements. They had met the short, burly man a couple of years ago, though Bucky has vague memories of having met him during the War.
He’d been crashing on Bucky’s sofa for months now, popping in and out of town as he pleased, but when he did come round, Eliot and Neal were quick to corner him to teach them more from his vast assortment of skills.
Bucky had insisted Eliot learn multiple languages, and at Neal’s Aunt Ellen’s urging, he’d been teaching the boy as well. Howlett was not only able to expand on those language skills, but the fighting skills Bucky had been carefully cultivating in both boys.
However, recently, with the arrival of Sam, a little girl whose father was quick to earn Bucky’s distrust, Neal had taken more of an interest in conning people rather than fighting them. Poorly. And convincing Eliot to try the same.
Whenever Bucky and Eliot have days of practicing Hebrew, Russian, Romanian, German, or Japanese, it’s just a given that Neal will also be at their house, soaking up the language as he soaks up any other knowledge. Soon, Sam is a regular fixture at their house as well. It’s all Bucky can do to come up with ways of challenging all three kids, teaching them important skills without encouraging them to use those skills for nefarious purposes.
One day, Sam’s dad comes to him asking if Bucky’s seen his daughter. Come to think of it, Bucky hadn’t seen Eliot in a while either.
When he finally finds him downtown, it’s in the middle of a large group of rowdy boys. Unfortunately, their parents seem to have figured out there was a commotion as well. Eliot has his hands up, having thrown one of the boys on the ground twice and using martial arts techniques Bucky had been trying to instil were for defence on the boy. The boy, unsurprisingly, gets back up, angrier than ever, and lunges at Eliot again, clearly untrained and emotional. Eliot has a look of fury on his face, his stance poised to do actual harm.
Logan steps in and catches the boy, pushing him back and separating the two, much to the anger of the boy’s father, who seems to believe Eliot deserves whatever beating the boy (thought) he could give him. Bucky pushes the boys to opposite sides of the ruckus, then turns to the other, more dangerous fight brewing between the adults.
The red-faced man is already clearly past tipsy and is spitting in Howlett’s face as he shouts obscenities about right and wrong. It’s not until he pulls out a gun, drunkenly waving it around, that Logan finally steps up to him, clearly upset that a children’s argument has devolved into weaponry. He takes the gun out of the man’s hand, unloading it and tossing it aside.
The man’s friends step into the fray now, indignation and liquor burning through them as they surround Logan, holding him in place for the man to attack. Logan gets punched in the gut twice before he stands, hitting the man again and again, until Bucky finally steps in and stops Howlett with his gloved left hand.
“Eliot. Go to the car. Now. Logan, go check on the other kids.”
He looks around, sees the man’s son staring angrily at Eliot before looking at his father, and a look of intense shame far too familiar to Bucky crosses the boy’s face. The man’s friends have dragged him away, leaving the humiliated boy with his hands still in fists, a grimace of helpless rage on his face.
He looks at the boy, at the furious tears he knows he tried to stop falling, just as Bucky used to try when his own father lost control.
Bucky comes and looks down at him, crossing his arms casually over his chest.
“I don’t know what happened here,” he began.
“Your son is a dirty cheat,” the boy responded.
“But your rage gives him power,” he ignored the outburst, indicating the boy’s father. The boy looks away, about to spit something else at Bucky. “A good fighter can separate emotions from the moment. You can be more effective if you don’t make things personal, keep a clear head. All anger does is cloud your mind and gives your opponent something to feed off. There are also a few fighting techniques that can be effective in stopping even those who seem most powerful.” He encourages the boy, remembering the control he felt when he was this age and discovered boxing, and the focus it gave him against a father who always made him feel helpless when he drank. “It’s all just a matter of hard work and training.” The boy stared at him, and Bucky can see the wheels turning in his head.
“Brock!” the boy’s father yelled incoherently, before the boy turned away from Bucky as though the other man didn’t matter.