[apharti]

тоже без пяти минут ебанашка™
не совсем в тему, но вспомнилось в связи с:


"You're supposed to live to be eighty--"

"I was supposed to do a lot of things!"

"I'm saying it doesn't have to be this way, Bucky."

Finally, a quiver in Bucky's chin. Steve had wondered if he was reacting at all. "I go back, give you the info you need to stop this thing, you do live to be eighty."

"I'm not dealing in what-ifs!" And Bucky's angry with him now; Steve can see it on his face. "We go down that road, we don't come back from it. You wanna tear open a door to 2018? Why not 1944? Why not 1939? Smuggle ourselves away so we never enter the war in the first place, why not?"

Steve feels himself wincing, and Bucky must see it. He points at him, stepping forward. "So that's somehow unpalatable to you, but what's 20 years between friends?"

"I'm not talking about trying to change history," Steve says. "This is changed history. I was never supposed to be gone in the first place--"

"Neither one of us were supposed to live to 2018, Steve!"

"It's -- I'm saying it's different. The door between 2018 and here has already been made once--"

"You -- no." Bucky pinches his nose, exhales hard. "Okay, I get it. You straight up don't understand what's involved in getting you back to your own timeline. If that door between moments ever existed -- and that's not what the evidence suggests, by the way -- you think it's somehow travelling with you? If you're talking about the point of contact between October 2018 and May 2036, we've passed that exit six days ago." He points behind him. "To get you back, we have to tear an entirely new door, adjacent to an existing wormhole, which is the worst idea ever invented in this planet's long fucking history of bad ideas. Even if we manage to do it -- if we can make it happen and the world doesn't somehow funnel into it and cease to exist -- we still have to pray that we get the timing right and that you don't walk through the door and wind up in 1996." He throws an arm up. "And what then? You're not supposed to be out of the ice for another decade and a half, but there's Captain America, out of time again."

"Maybe I find you," Steve says. "Get you out of Hydra. Does it matter if we miss if it means you stay alive?"

Bucky looks at him with bugging eyes. "So you want me to support sending you back, now that you've just told me you intend to fuck with time to the fullest extent possible."

"I intend to -- do whatever it takes to make sure you suffer less, Bucky. That's my directive, and always was."

"There is no fixing this." He turns his finger in the air. "This happened. For better or worse, this is my life now. You wanna go back, appease your fucking savior complex and take all this from me? Take what I've built -- my friends, my businesses, my life's work? You want to deprive me of another fucking choice, Steve? You know what, go right ahead. I clearly can't stop you. But if you're really willing to throw away my life for the sake of your so-called values, I don't want anything to do with you."

"Bucky, I'm talking about saving your life!"

"I don't want to be saved!" Bucky throws an arm wide, decisive. "Did that ever occur to you? All I want for the time I have left is to do the things that make me happy. For the love of God, would you really deny me that?"

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[Мартышия]

тоже без пяти минут ебанашка™