"Mmm." It's a quiet noise, a noncommittal answer. Bucky's pretty sure that he can hunt and pretty sure that he doesn't want to volunteer to do so, at least not until he knows more about this place and the people in it. "Nothing wrong with that. It's always worth looking around for supplies, you never know what you might find."
He's not just saying it to be falsely reassuring either; it would be stupid to forgo the possibility of supplies to be found in the buildings just for the sake of not wanting to scavenge. Survival is about surviving, after all.
Peter falls back into step at his side easily, as if this is a thing they do. Or maybe this is just how Peter is with everyone: easily trusting, wanting to be trusted. He'd make a horrible HYDRA agent, Bucky can think it in the privacy of his mind. His expression is too open, his demeanor too innocent. Bucky doesn't think that anyone is that good an actor, and certainly there had never been much need for acting around him. No, he'd just be triggered and that would be that: simple, easy, efficient.
HYDRA did so like efficiency.
"Not quite sure what history books would have bothered to say about me." Not much he thinks, and certainly nothing much beyond his connection to Captain America. He'd seen that in the museum, and it suits him well enough. He's not sure he fits the image of the man in a smartly pressed dress uniform, or even the slightly rougher figure at Captain America's side. He'd read what he could but it'd felt more like reading about a stranger than anything familiar, and had done little enough to jog anything loose in his head. "So I'm not sure there's much to bother knowing." And there's the matter of the Soldier, of course. "Or much you'd want to know." But—
But.
But he's in a strange place with more than one unexplained phenomenon. But he's alone and his own supplies aren't going to hold out forever; already he's been rationing himself and while he'll survive it, it's not sustainable in the long term for his metabolism. But here's a teen offering trust as easily as anything and it reminds him, sharply and unexpectedly, of something else.
No, not something. Someone.
His frown isn't directed at Peter but it's there nonetheless, the downward curve of his lips as he shifts his own stride to maintain his place at Peter's side as they walk. The silence stretches a little too long before Bucky realizes that he needs to at least say something, give some sort of answer to his companion. "I don't know if trusting me is something you should decide on now." He certainly can't change Peter's mind if it's made up, but he does feel it's only right to say as much. "But I don't want to hurt you."
A beat. "And there are worse rations than beans and rice."
sure it is, with just a few words: longing, rusted, seventeen...
He's not just saying it to be falsely reassuring either; it would be stupid to forgo the possibility of supplies to be found in the buildings just for the sake of not wanting to scavenge. Survival is about surviving, after all.
Peter falls back into step at his side easily, as if this is a thing they do. Or maybe this is just how Peter is with everyone: easily trusting, wanting to be trusted. He'd make a horrible HYDRA agent, Bucky can think it in the privacy of his mind. His expression is too open, his demeanor too innocent. Bucky doesn't think that anyone is that good an actor, and certainly there had never been much need for acting around him. No, he'd just be triggered and that would be that: simple, easy, efficient.
HYDRA did so like efficiency.
"Not quite sure what history books would have bothered to say about me." Not much he thinks, and certainly nothing much beyond his connection to Captain America. He'd seen that in the museum, and it suits him well enough. He's not sure he fits the image of the man in a smartly pressed dress uniform, or even the slightly rougher figure at Captain America's side. He'd read what he could but it'd felt more like reading about a stranger than anything familiar, and had done little enough to jog anything loose in his head. "So I'm not sure there's much to bother knowing." And there's the matter of the Soldier, of course. "Or much you'd want to know." But—
But.
But he's in a strange place with more than one unexplained phenomenon. But he's alone and his own supplies aren't going to hold out forever; already he's been rationing himself and while he'll survive it, it's not sustainable in the long term for his metabolism. But here's a teen offering trust as easily as anything and it reminds him, sharply and unexpectedly, of something else.
No, not something. Someone.
His frown isn't directed at Peter but it's there nonetheless, the downward curve of his lips as he shifts his own stride to maintain his place at Peter's side as they walk. The silence stretches a little too long before Bucky realizes that he needs to at least say something, give some sort of answer to his companion. "I don't know if trusting me is something you should decide on now." He certainly can't change Peter's mind if it's made up, but he does feel it's only right to say as much. "But I don't want to hurt you."
A beat. "And there are worse rations than beans and rice."