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John knows it was bad. He knew it was going to put him in a foul mood, make his day infinitely worse, and, really, that it was a shitty, unproductive thing to do.
He kept doing it anyway.
Read headline after headline about their announcement as the New Avengers. It’s been two weeks already, and yet there are still some online news outlets out there that can be found giving opinions about the latest lineup of “Earth’s Mightiest Heroes” - if one knows where to look. And trust him, he does. But John’s not after the media reception his group got, which may or may not even be genuine, considering that could be the product of Valentina’s work.
Nope. He’s after the comments from the regular people: the couch surfers and keyboard warriors who are currently so freely calling John and the others a bunch of fucking nobodies and losers, all while sporting beer bellies of their own and being surrounded by towering piles of pizza boxes and crippling debt.
He knows how the internet game goes. Win those kinds of people over, and you’ll have dedicated online defenders for life.
Fail to impress them and, well…
And so far, from what John could gather? The New Avengers have been failing to impress them. From form to background to fighting abilities, they are consistently found lacking compared to the “OG” lineup.
Fuck this.
He marches towards the Watchtower’s kitchen, intent on finding something to eat. Or maybe even fix himself something up, whatever. Reading all those negative internet comments had left him famished. And he may hate Valentina’s fucking guts and would love nothing more than tear that stupid white streak of hair off her fucking skull with his bare hands, but John has to admit that the woman isn’t scrimping when it comes to providing them with supplies. Specifically, food. Well-stocked cupboards and pantries, a filled-to-the-brim fridge. That deserves some sort of respect, considering his current situation is a far cry from his life back then, when he was pathetically surviving alone in his one-bedroom apartment.
Idly, he wonders if Liv has been keeping up with the news. If she’d seen what’s become of him lately. And, if she’s also aware of the public opinion, especially that about him.
So far, though, it’s been radio silence from her end for weeks now.
And John’s too fucking busy to initiate any form of communication between them.
Or, at the very least, he likes to pretend to be.
Nope. Not going there.
He steps into the kitchen. Sees Congressman Barnes already occupying it, standing near the sink with his arms crossed, expression unreadable but radiating disappointment as always. Sees their resident quantum anomaly and clothes thief Starr seated near the counter, hands cupping a chipped mug and eyes almost rolling to the back of her head.
“I don’t see what the problem is,” he catches her saying as she lowers her cup to the table and all but glares at Bucky. “In case you missed it, those guys had been too incapacitated to be using their weapons anyway. What’s the harm in nabbing some for myself?”
“Because that’s still stealing?” Bucky tells her, sounding very, very tired. “I’ve told you multiple times–”
She shrugs. “I’d like to call it recycling, actually.”
“That’s not–”
John blinks at them. “Is this about the three Glocks you swiped from those guys at the dock?” he asks Ava.
Bucky turns to him and says, “You saw her do it?”
“Well, yeah. Can’t hurt, right? They were good Glocks, too. Newest model, from the looks of it. Would have been a real shame to leave them behind.”
And Ava actually smiles at him. “See?” she tells Bucky, all while gesturing at John. “Walker gets it.”
Bucky massages the space between his eyes. “Except you’re the one actually getting them, Ava. And I don’t think–”
John swipes a can of Coke from the fridge and turns. “What’s the big deal? Just think of it as sort of… redistributing resources. Bad guys purchase the guns, but we get to use them. And the government gets to save a couple thousand American taxpayer dollars from arming us since we’re already armed.” A beat. “Well, one of us, anyway.”
“Exactly,” Ava says, looking at John with approval in her eyes before glancing at Bucky. “It’s as I said earlier, Congressman. Recycling.”
Bucky glares at John. “Don’t encourage her, Walker.”
John raises both hands in surrender. “Hey, I’m just saying. There are way worse things out there than Ghost Lady here swiping things from dead people for our benefit.” A beat. Then he points at Ava and adds, “And while we’re on the subject? So long as you’re no longer swiping anything from me, we’re good.”
Ava rolls her eyes again. “Yeah, no. Wearing your hoodie made me itch for days. I’m not doing that again, thank you.”
He laughs. “Serves you right, then. Maybe it’s time to actually, oh I don’t know. Buy your own shit from now on instead of freely using ours?”
“And I will,” Ava replies airily. “Just… need to look around for a good store in the city that sells them, that’s all.”
“Why not just order online?” Bucky asks.
And both John and Ava just stare at him.
“You know how to order things online?” Ava asks him point-blank.
“Hey, I’m not that old,” Bucky snaps back at her. A beat, and then, “Well I am, but yeah. I can do stuff online. I do it all the time.”
She shrugs. “Good. Saves us the trouble of having to teach you, then.”
Bucky looks at her incredulously. “Who even said I need–”
John pops the tab on his Coke and takes a long drink from it, leaning back against the counter. He watches them bicker for a second, contemplating things.
Then, “Speaking of stuff online,” he cuts in all so casually, like the thought just occurred to him. “You two have been… uh.” Pause. “Keeping up with the news lately?”
Two sets of eyes turn toward him.
“No,” Ava replies quickly, already looking away - like the topic disinterests her greatly.
“What kind of news?” Bucky asks carefully.
John shrugs. “What else? The kind about us, obviously. And I’m telling you, both media and public sentiment so far? Not great.”
“What did you expect, anyway?” Ava tells him over her shoulder. “Our team’s endorsed by Valentina, who’s not exactly a paragon of virtue herself. And then there’s us. Two loud Russians, a has-been Captain America, a SHIELD reject, and, well–” She gestures haphazardly to the side, “--Bucky.”
Who then proceeds to give her the driest of dry looks. “Thanks.”
“No, no. I meant that as a compliment, actually,” Ava hastens to say. “You being a well-known public figure and a Congressman’s probably the only thing giving us any sort of legitimacy right now. Otherwise, we’re all just a bunch of government-contracted expendables.”
“Yeah, well.” John sets the Coke behind him and crosses his arms. “You’d think after saving New York from whatever that thing from Bob was, along with the multiple missions Val had been sending us to, to save the city and shit, we’d be more accepted by now, or something.”
“Walker, that’s–” Bucky frowns at him. “That’s not how quickly public perception changes. It’ll take more than weeks of effort, if we’re lucky.”
“Who cares about public opinion, anyway?” Ava comments blithely, walking to the cupboard to grab her favorite brand of oatmeal. “They can go hang themselves, for all I care.”
“Someone has to care about it, don’t you think?” he shoots back. “Besides, I was just… curious.”
“Sure you were.” She gestures at him with her oatmeal-holding hand. “But you know exactly what happens to curious cats, don’t you?”
“I know. I know that,” John says, rubbing the back of his head. “It’s just–”
“There you are. I need to talk to you.”
Out of the blue, Yelena steps into the kitchen, eyes focused on Bucky.
Except she’s coiled tight. Nearly vibrating from… something. The way her mouth was downturned like that? Told John things were about to get nasty.
Apparently, Bucky’s aware of all the signs, too, because he asks, in a very neutral tone, “What is it?”
As if he’s already bracing for impact.
Yelena crosses her arms and walks closer to him - until they’re almost standing toe-to-toe. “You know, you really should be constantly checking your phone, Bucky. Because then you might not have missed Mel’s fourteen calls, and then she wouldn’t have had to call me for a favor to tell you about that thing that, apparently, you’d asked her to do for you.”
Bucky’s jaws tighten.
But Yelena’s on a roll. “You know? The one about Bob?”
John just looks from her to Bucky and back again. The way Bob’s name rolled out of her mouth? Not good.
Meanwhile, from beside him, Ava asks, “Sorry, what about Bob?”
Bucky glances at her quickly before returning his attention to Yelena.
Who all but smirks at him and says, in a low voice, “You want to tell them? Or should I?”
Bucky exhales through his nose and says, “It wasn’t–” He pauses. Tries again, “I only asked Mel to share with me any information Val or OXE might have about Bob. Specifically, the sides of him that we encountered.”
“Why?” Ava asks again, sounding bewildered.
Except one look at Bucky was all it took for John to get it.
“You want to conduct a threat analysis,” he says out loud.
Bucky looks at him, lips thin.
He doesn’t refute it.
Which basically confirms it.
And Yelena absolutely cackles. “Wow. Okay. This is what you are doing now? You pretend to be all friendly towards him, towards us, but all the while you’re, what.” She pokes him in the chest, “Developing his villain origin story in your brain?”
“That’s not what this is, Yelena,” Bucky says immediately, shaking his head.
“Isn’t it?” Yelena tilts her head, eyes bright and offended. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks very much like you’ve decided Bob is problem to solve, not person to help. A threat–” Yelena’s eyes cut to John, “--to be analyzed.”
Oh.
Shit.
John watches Bucky carefully. The guy looks… tired. Worn down in that quiet way that almost makes him feel sorry for the man. But he had to hand it to the guy; he knows how to stand his ground.
Especially in front of a pissed-off, overprotective Widow.
“I do think Bob is a person we can help,” Bucky tells Yelena quietly. “Don’t twist things.”
“Stop lying,” she hisses right back. “You don’t trust him. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be preparing contingency plans for him.”
“Yelena–” Ava starts - except she stops when Yelena glares daggers at her.
“I trust Bob,” Bucky tells Yelena. Heavily. “I know he’s a good kid. But the things that we don’t know about him? The things Valentina made him to be? Those, I don’t trust.”
Here, he turns to both John and Ava. “That’s why I asked Mel to give me the information that can help us either prepare for or prevent the Sentry or his darker version from coming out. That’s all.” A beat, and then, “Someone in our team had to.”
Yelena stares at him for several terse seconds.
“So because he is powerful, you think he is dangerous. You think he needs to be controlled.” She scoffs. “How very American of you.”
And then she steps even further into Bucky’s space.
“But you also understand that you can’t control him, can you? That you’re too powerless to prepare for or prevent anything. You just want to make yourself feel better by thinking you can.”
Wow. Fuck.
Even John felt that in his bones.
But Bucky doesn’t rise to it. That alone tells John how serious he was about this.
He just says, “I’ve lived long enough to know that the things you don’t prepare for are the ones that can kill you. And yes, maybe I am just making myself feel better here. But what’s the alternative, huh? We don’t do anything? We just wait for what happens next? Pretend the threat doesn’t exist? Because you know those won’t help Bob either.”
Yelena’s mouth thins to a single line.
John finds himself agreeing with Bucky. After basically, willingly neglecting it for weeks, someone really has to bring the subject of Bob’s creepy alter-egos up.
Regardless of how any of them feels about it.
“Yelena,” he speaks, voice calm and measured, “I know you’d hate to hear this right now, but. I think Bucky’s not in the wrong here.”
Yelena whips her head around to look at him like he’s just betrayed her. “Oh, no. Do not tag-team me on this.”
John lifts a hand in a placating gesture. “Hear me out. To me, this whole thing reads as not an attack on Bob, so maybe stop seeing it like it is. I’m just saying… his entire being comes with a fine print thanks to Val’s experimentations. What Bucky wants to do? It’s less about treating Bob like a fucking problem and more about us getting ready for the unknown. Not just for our sake, but for the entire world. I mean, that’s what we’re supposed to do, right? As the New Avengers?”
Ava’s quiet now, eyes flicking among the three of them. “So this isn’t about wanting to take him down?” she asks, her attention landing on Bucky.
“Are you kidding?” John replies before Bucky can. “I don’t think we can even land a single hit on the guy. Or whichever version of him we’ll be facing.” And normally, his pride would’ve cracked at admitting that, but honestly? It was a goddamned miracle they all got out of those encounters alive.
“And when that time comes,” Bucky says, “I want us to be able to help Bob. Or minimize the damage. Or at the very least, survive the encounter long enough to try again. Believe me, I’m not–” He pauses, takes a deep breath, and looks at Yelena. “I’m not after hurting him.”
For a long moment, no one says anything.
Still, John watches Yelena very, very carefully.
She’s gone motionless in that very dangerous way of hers - like she’s still mentally stopping herself from striking. Her jaw is clenched, eyes sharp, but the fire in them has shifted. It’s not just anger anymore, no.
It’s more… conflict.
“You both speak like you’re sure Bob will lose himself again,” she says, quieter now.
Bucky shakes his head. “No. I speak like I’ve seen what happens when people pretend the worst thing can’t ever happen to them.”
That makes Yelena look away.
“Meantime,” Ava cuts in, so very carefully, “maybe it isn’t the worst idea to know more things about Bob. Or his abilities.”
John nods. “Yeah. I don’t think he even knows half of what he can do.”
“So we help him there, too,” Ava adds. “Instead of letting him figure things out by himself.”
Bucky places his hands on his hips and sighs. “Yeah. That’s part of the plan, actually.”
John looks at Yelena and asks, “What did Mel say, anyway?”
She gives Bucky a long look before stepping out of his space, walking closer to the center of the room. “She was asking for his email address. But then she changed her mind, said she’ll just send hard copies of files instead. And told us not to expect too much since OXE did a good job wiping all the data they had on The Sentry Project.”
Ava scoffs. “Of course they did. How convenient for them.”
Silence.
And because John isn’t really comfortable with long pauses, he decides to break it. “Well, then. Guess we’ll have to wait for whatever’s in those files to actually start planning shit,” John says, grabbing his Coke again. “As a team.”
Yelena glances at Bucky again. “Including Bob.”
Bucky’s mouth tightens. “Eventually. Yes.”
“Okay,” Yelena finally acknowledges with a nod. “Okay.”
A beat.
“But the moment planning turns into treating him like enemy, I will shut it down. Personally,” she adds.
Bucky nods. “Understood.”
She gives him a final, searching look before turning on her heel and departing the kitchen.
Leaving the rest of them quiet.
“Yeesh. The power of Hurricane Yelena,” John comments.
Then he turns to Bucky and says, “See, I had been wondering how she’d chew you out, the way she did the rest of us. Guess I have my answer now.”
And Bucky just. Exhales loudly. “Walker.”
Ava moves closer to Bucky, nudges his shoulder with her own. “Could be worse,” she tells him. “At least she didn’t say you’re not a good person. Or call you a bitch, for that matter.”
He sighs again. “That is not helping things, Ava.”
She laughs. “I wasn’t planning to, anyway.”
John finishes his drink, mostly to give his hands something to do. Then, he thinks about the comments he read earlier. Ordinary people calling them losers. Frauds. A bad replacement for legends.
But, if they could see this? Four people standing in a kitchen, mostly arguing about how to help someone who could singlehandedly wipe them off the map?
Maybe then they’ll realize the New Avengers weren’t good for nothing, after all.