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No?

[The single syllable is laced with disdainful scorn.]

You were happy to do that before... when you were still the ghost who could disappear without a trace.

[He takes a step forward, unarmed yet perfectly confident. He knows this man is no threat to him. The officers currently lying unconscious around them were wrestling their perp down to cuff him when he had shown up.]

Tell me, assassin, do you know who I am? Do you know why I have done this?

['This' presumably referring to dropping an even dozen men unconscious without touching any of them, then knocking their beaten and exhausted prisoner across the room.]

I am not that man anymore.

(He wasn't entirely sure who he was anymore but he knows that he wasn't an asset to Hydra anymore.

His gaze remained on the man standing in front of him. Not on the officers that lay around them.)

To kill me?

Do you think you can divest yourself of your crimes by denying them?

[There's a cold anger in the question. It says that he has waited a long time to ask it.

Another step, and now he is again within striking distance. But he doesn't strike him again. Instead he just locks eyes with him, with the kind of stare that would bore holes through a lesser man.]

Were it my aim to kill you, you would be dead already. No, assassin, I am not here to kill you. Death would be a release, and you still have much to answer for.

I haven't denied what I have done.

(He couldn't deny it even if he tried. Flashes of what he's done in the name of Hydra haunted his memory. It could never be undone or made right.

He didn't move as the man stepped closer to him. He was close enough to attack but he didn't. Simply looked up into the other's eyes.)

And who do I have to answer to?

Then what gives you the right to say you are not that man anymore?

[He waits. Half-expecting the other man to attack. Half-wanting him to. But he doesn't.

He doesn't look away either, and even he has to admit (begrudgingly, to himself) that whatever else he might be, this man is no coward.]

The people. My people, the people whose birthright you stole fifty years ago.

Because I wasn't a man before.

(There was a crack in his voice as he spoke those words. He wouldn't consider himself a person when he was under Hydra. He was nothing more than a weapon for them. He doubted that they considered him human either.)

Then take out your punishment.

You were man enough to take that shot from the grassy knoll. To hunt your better like a dog.

[Something about the other man's demeanor angers him. Maybe it's the crack in his voice, or the uncertainty in his eyes. The way he's daring to act like he doesn't know what it is he has done, as if someone else had done those things in his stead.

It angers him enough that he grits his teeth, and grimaces, and backhands the other man. Not with his power behind it this time, nothing strong enough to knock him off his feet. But there is simple physical force to it.]

Do not speak to me so insolently. I am Exodus, and it will be my people who decide your punishment. But make no mistake, I will see to it that you are brought before them. Whether it is willing or not is up to you.

Which time? I have been sent to hunt many people.

(The broken solider wasn't about to die something he did while he was part of Hydra. He remembered the lives he had taken and the pain he had caused. There was no saying that it wasn't his bullet or plans that had killed people. He was made into a murder and he had to live with what he had been made to do.

Although the death bled together. He couldn't tell which death this man was wanting avenged.)

Who are your people?

Edited 2015-11-30 04:25 (UTC)

Do you mean to tell me you do not even remember?

[Could it have meant so little to him? Just the thought makes him want to forego his duties and shove this man out the nearest window. But...

They still know very little about this man. Who is he? He is not one of them, yet somehow he has not aged in fifty years. He has killed and sabotaged and destroyed without remorse, yet here he stands, unflinching, not trying to run away from his crimes or he who has come to make him answer for them.]

Today my people are the unspoken, the ones spoken of in hushed tones if at all. But fifty years ago your kind gave us our proper name: homo superior. Mutantkind. Surely you remember that, after how many of us you killed. Or did even that mean nothing to you?

(Should he say that he didn't really remember? Not exactly. That what he had done came in flashes to him.

It probably wouldn't even matter. It didn't matter that he wasn't in control of himself when he did it. He, like Exodus, believed that he should take the punishment for it. It was by his hand even though it wasn't by his thoughts.

He stood up from the ground. He didn't move to run off but simply to stand his ground.)

No, it didn't. It meant nothing. I did what I was ordered to do.

[For a moment he feels an irrational urge to grab the other man by the shoulders and shake him until his teeth rattle. How can it be, that this man who stands before him so willing to accept his punishment could be the same man who hid in the shadows for years, striking at his people again and again from the shadows?

He forces the urge back, because even if this man who is still called the Winter Soldier and comports himself as one forgot what it means to be one, he has not. His personal feelings cannot compromise his duties. He is here to take this manto the jury who will decide his fate. And that is what he is going to do.

Calmly, coldly, he turns his back on the other man. Examines the fallen officers around them.]

Turn around. Place your hands on the back of your head and do not move further until I instruct you to.

(For a moment the soldier stood there without a reaction to what the man had said. There was time to try to run, to save himself from being captured. The other man had turned his back to him which could have proved foolish.

Still Bucky did not turn to run or even attack the man from behind. He sighed and softly closed his eyes for a second before turning around as ordered to do. He lifted his hands and placed them on the back of his head.)

[Was he hoping his quarry might attack, seize the opportunity and try to save himself? Even now he is not sure. It probably would have been a futile effort, but at least it would have told him something about this man. It would have been something tangible amidst the cloak of uncertainties and contradictions.

But no, still the assassin does not even try to save himself, instead just calmly following the orders given him. Gesturing with one hand, Exodus pulls a set of handcuffs from one of the fallen officers and approaches the Soldier with them. Reaching for the other man's hands, he pulls them behind his back and locks the cuffs tight around his wrists. Frisks him for any hidden weapons on his person.]

We cannot leave this place through any of the exits, I can feel the reinforcements on their way. Tell me what you know of this area, quickly. Are there any safe places? Somewhere you were hiding before this?

(The soldier could hear the other man take cuffs from one of the fallen police officers. He heard the metal as the cuffs rubbed against themselves. Not sure why the man didn't bring his own restraints along with him but it wasn't a question he needed an answer to.

His body tensed as the cuffs were put on him. He had issues with being restrained at all. Although he could break out of them easily with his metal arm but he chose to leave them on.

On his person there were several weapons, three handguns and four knives. Three of which were kept on his ankle.)

I wasn't hiding here. We would have to leave the building.

[After so many escapes and false leads, a part of the mutant hadn't expected this time to be any different. That was one reason why he did not come with restraints. Another, more significant reason, is that he honestly did not expecting to be bringing back a prisoner. He thought he would return empty-handed, or if he did bring back something, that it would only be a dead body. Men are like beasts, most dangerous when cornered, and he expected the Soldier to be so. He may have expected him to be worn down, tired after months of being chased, but never in a million years did he expect his target would surrender without even trying to fight.

He is not expecting weapons, not after that, and pauses despite himself when his hands find them. Quickly he checks the handgun clips, finding all of them fresh. The knives are sharp but clean, and that just puzzles him more. Even if the guns hadn't been an option, it would have been an easy thing to pull one a minute ago when his back was turned. This man has the speed to do that. So why didn't he?

Silently he takes all the weapons and secures them on his own person, then reaches for his captive's shoulder.]

Steady yourself. This will not be pleasant.

[Without any knowledge of their surroundings, and with the reinforcements on their way up now, he has no choice but to do a blind teleport. Drawing his mutant energies around them, he makes the jump, pulling the both of them out of the building in a brilliant flash of light. This is why he held the Soldier's shoulder, to hold the other man steady in case he did loose his footing. Whatever his personal feelings on the matter, this man is in his custody now, and that makes him his responsibility.]

Yeah, I know. That's why I'm here.

(Barnes couldn’t remember the last time he didn’t have a single weapon on his person. There was always something hidden up a sleeve or in his boot. Even in between his shoulder blades for a smooth transition in a firefight. At least for those that were trained to fight and kill without hesitation.

He wouldn’t say that he felt entirely comfortable being unarmed. It put him more on edge than being taken into custody and possibly taken to his death. His arms tensed as he tried not to pull against his cuffs. It was harder than he thought that it was but he had found it hard to contain any of his emotions since regaining himself.

Although he didn’t know how much longer that he would be in custody. There wasn’t anywhere for them to go. At least he thought there wasn’t.)

You should have used that earlier.

(There was a flash of confusion across his face.)

[It has been a long time, but Bennet can remember the last time he carried weapons like this. Maybe not so many of them, but he was a soldier before he was a mutant. Or before he knew he was one, at least. It still troubles him that the other man surrendered them all so readily. These knives, at least, he had more than enough time to draw.

He lets his prisoner's shoulder go and quickly glances around. Walls, not too different from the ones they were just surrounded by. They're almost certainly in one of the neighboring buildings now.]

It's not that simple. A blind port like that could have ended with us materializing in solid space. We are lucky to be alive.

[It's his first admission that he is not all-powerful, that even his abilities have their limits. A stupid thing to admit to a enemy, even a captured one. He isn't sure why he admits it at all.]

That bought us a few minutes, so let's use them wisely. Stay close and follow me.

Steve sent me. I'm here to get you out of here, get you away from SHIELD. We need to move.

I don't either. [But it's not like you can ever take it away, what they've done, why they did it.]