"I'm okay," he promises, which is a lie, but he's clearly not worse off physically than he was the last time she saw him. He's back in his own clothes from a year ago, several layers of them, back in proper combat boots even, and his long hair's clean and tied back. "I didn't. I didn't die."
She doesn't seem mad, at least. Maybe she doesn't know? He pads over to offer her one of the mugs of chocolate. "Not sure if your death toll has nausea involved. Steve can't eat anything. But in case it doesn't."
Her smile is small and sympathetic. He isn't okay. Probably very few people are.
"I fall down sometimes," she is leaning even now, and motions him to follow her to the living space that has soft things to fall on. She settles onto the sofa. "But I don't get sick as much. Is Steve okay, besides the death toll? I tried to go find him but Godric convinced me to wait until I can walk a little further. Until I can stay up."
Once she's seated, he sets the mug down in front of her to take or not take, then settles down just out of reach nearby. On the floor. "He's okay. Sick a lot, but trying to force himself to move around. He'll probably come see you soon if he hasn't already."
He swallows, looks at the mug in his own hands, and says, "I'm sorry. I dragged you back here. After I got you killed."
She does take it, holding it in her hands to just enjoy the feel of something with a little weight to it.
Then he says that and she looks at him a moment, wounded. A moment longer as she reaches for understanding instead of betrayal or outrage.
He could have just taken Steve. He took them both.
"I was willing to die to stay free. But...I never should have asked you to just let me die. You've lost so much already. It was wrong of me to ask you to just give up on saving anyone."
The wounded expression is what he'd expected. Outrage is what he expected. Clearly she didn't know it was his fault, his choice, that brought her here. He's made his peace with Annie hating him, he just had to make sure he apologized, even if he's not really sure he regrets it.
He regrets that it had to happen. But Steve would been so broken if they left Annie's body behind, he thinks. He promised he'd never make Steve choose between them, and that includes making the choice for him.
So he shuts his eyes against it, ready for the yell, or the tears, or anything other than what he gets. He blinks them open again. "You. You had every right to want me to leave you there. I took away your choice again."
He tugs at one of the loose bits of his hair. Not all of it is quite long enough to stay reliably tied back. "At the time? Mostly panic. But there's. There's a lot of reasons behind that, I think. Some of it was for Steve. Leaving you behind but taking him would be. Making his choice for him, too. Between the two of us. And he'd be devastated if he lost you. I've made a lot of people dead, Annie. And they've left a lot of devastated people behind. Some of it was. I don't want to lose you. Even if I've been pretty sure what I did. Means I'd probably lose you, anyway. Some of it was."
He pauses, tugs again, harder, and finishes uncertainly, "You can't make choices when you're dead. You can't get out when you're dead. There's at least a chance, here. There's no chance, being a body sinking to the bottom of the ocean."
"I understand," she blinks away tears, watching the ceiling. "I understand what you're saying, and why you did it, and maybe someday I'll be glad you did. I'm not angry." She would have thought she would be, but here they are, and she's just tired. So tired.
"Whatever you need," he promises, subdued. "If you need me to keep my distance. I will. If you need me to hang around more, I will. Whatever makes it easier for you."
She isn't sure what she wants. It had all been so clear on her ship: what she had wanted was so close within reach that she was willing to do whatever it took to keep it.
She doesn't know here what she wants or even, really, who she is in this context. So she defaults to worrying about the group.
"I want us to still be friends. And I don't think avoiding each other will help. So we should keep doing things together." She looks at him finally. "I'm glad you saved Steve. I hope he wasn't mad that you did."
"No. Not at me," he adds, to clarify. "I don't think he's. Happy about it." The whole graduation thing is not something he's going to tell for Steve, so he'll have to leave that side of things out. He's already spilled to one person, he's not going to do that again.
"But he's been. Really clear. That he's not mad at me for bringing him back," he finishes. "Or bringing you back." He's also not going to say Steve thought he did the right thing. He feels like that would be rubbing salt in Annie's wounds. But not being mad, that's safe enough. "I would've understood if he was. If you were."
"Yeah, I do. I still have-- most of them, I think. The pirates couldn't get into my cabin, so. Most everything was untouched." He even spent a couple hours reading them, waiting for her and Steve to wake up, once he'd tidied up the place after the escape.
That sounds like something relatively easy, yeah. "Sure. Any time you want." His fingers twitch a little, and he thinks about what he'd managed for Steve, and says, "Want me to. Um. Want me to braid your hair? I'm pretty sure I can."
Despite everything, she lights up at the offer. She almost asks if he's sure--she hasn't missed the tension in him, that's been there since prison--but she trusts he wouldn't have offered if he wasn't.
"I'll get a brush," she scampers up to the bathroom and returns with a hair tie as well.
That's the expression he was hoping for. This is familiar, for them, a memory of good times and good feelings. And he's pretty sure he can do it. Like HYDRA, prison guard pirates weren't particularly focused on hair except occasionally to pull.
B sinks onto the couch at last, himself, half-turned against the arm, and pats the cushion next to him. Not too close, hopefully, but where he can get at her hair.
He hesitates a beat or two, hands coming up then back down, then finally up and into her hair, first. Just touching, running his fingers over it and a little into it. "You weren't stupid," he says. "You're not stupid."
"I never wanted Steve to get hurt. Or you, or Archer, or Sweeney." She brushes the red lock braided into her hair, just behind her ear. "I just don't know what the in between is. Either I'm hurting all the time, to make people happy. Or I'm hurting them so I can be happy."
That's not a thing B can really challenge, so he sighs a little. "Yeah, okay. I know the feeling. So far I've been leaning on the make-other-people-happy side. Not sure how to fix that except maybe find a way to change what makes you happy somehow."
He runs his fingers over the weaved bit with Sweeney's hair, not sure whose it is, though there's only so many red-headed people on this Barge. And she did mention Sweeney, so it's probably his. "There anything special you want me to do with this? Or should I leave it out of my own braid?"
B remembers being asked this question, back before he was even a person again. Funny how nobody's asked him that since. The closest he ever came was his damn shrink asking him what he wanted, and then ridiculing his answer.
He thinks about it seriously for a moment, as he brushes out her hair, careful to avoid unweaving Sweeney's hair in the process. He doesn't think chocolate and soft things really cut it anymore. Apparently he's gotten more complicated since then. "I don't think I know anymore," he admits. "What makes you happy?"
"My pack." Which has always been her first answer. It used to be her only answer. "And learning new things. Going new places. Figuring things out even if I'm...not great at understanding what I'm seeing."
She lets herself just enjoy the feel of his fingers. "I really want you to know what makes you happy, too. You're able to find out here, aren't you? Like...more than you could at home. It's safer for you to learn about yourself here?"
He chuckles a little, sadly, as he starts carefully working on a French braid along one side of her head. "I know a lot about myself, at this point. I've had time. I know I'm better off here than out in the world. I know I want my friends here to stick around and keep letting me be their friend. I want more songs on the piano and a shit-ton of food so I can stop feeling like a skeleton and to sit on my sheepskin rug. I want to keep people safe. I'm not sure if that's happy exactly, but I know it's better with those things than without them."
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She doesn't seem mad, at least. Maybe she doesn't know? He pads over to offer her one of the mugs of chocolate. "Not sure if your death toll has nausea involved. Steve can't eat anything. But in case it doesn't."
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"I fall down sometimes," she is leaning even now, and motions him to follow her to the living space that has soft things to fall on. She settles onto the sofa. "But I don't get sick as much. Is Steve okay, besides the death toll? I tried to go find him but Godric convinced me to wait until I can walk a little further. Until I can stay up."
But the worry is obvious.
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He swallows, looks at the mug in his own hands, and says, "I'm sorry. I dragged you back here. After I got you killed."
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Then he says that and she looks at him a moment, wounded. A moment longer as she reaches for understanding instead of betrayal or outrage.
He could have just taken Steve. He took them both.
"I was willing to die to stay free. But...I never should have asked you to just let me die. You've lost so much already. It was wrong of me to ask you to just give up on saving anyone."
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He regrets that it had to happen. But Steve would been so broken if they left Annie's body behind, he thinks. He promised he'd never make Steve choose between them, and that includes making the choice for him.
So he shuts his eyes against it, ready for the yell, or the tears, or anything other than what he gets. He blinks them open again. "You. You had every right to want me to leave you there. I took away your choice again."
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He pauses, tugs again, harder, and finishes uncertainly, "You can't make choices when you're dead. You can't get out when you're dead. There's at least a chance, here. There's no chance, being a body sinking to the bottom of the ocean."
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"But I'm going to need time to get there."
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She doesn't know here what she wants or even, really, who she is in this context. So she defaults to worrying about the group.
"I want us to still be friends. And I don't think avoiding each other will help. So we should keep doing things together." She looks at him finally. "I'm glad you saved Steve. I hope he wasn't mad that you did."
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"But he's been. Really clear. That he's not mad at me for bringing him back," he finishes. "Or bringing you back." He's also not going to say Steve thought he did the right thing. He feels like that would be rubbing salt in Annie's wounds. But not being mad, that's safe enough. "I would've understood if he was. If you were."
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"I'll get a brush," she scampers up to the bathroom and returns with a hair tie as well.
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B sinks onto the couch at last, himself, half-turned against the arm, and pats the cushion next to him. Not too close, hopefully, but where he can get at her hair.
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It's easier when she isn't facing him to try, fail, try again to speak. "I'm sorry I was stupid."
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He runs his fingers over the weaved bit with Sweeney's hair, not sure whose it is, though there's only so many red-headed people on this Barge. And she did mention Sweeney, so it's probably his. "There anything special you want me to do with this? Or should I leave it out of my own braid?"
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She's thinking about what he'd said, though. "What makes you happy, B?"
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He thinks about it seriously for a moment, as he brushes out her hair, careful to avoid unweaving Sweeney's hair in the process. He doesn't think chocolate and soft things really cut it anymore. Apparently he's gotten more complicated since then. "I don't think I know anymore," he admits. "What makes you happy?"
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She lets herself just enjoy the feel of his fingers. "I really want you to know what makes you happy, too. You're able to find out here, aren't you? Like...more than you could at home. It's safer for you to learn about yourself here?"
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