"They knew enough." Shuri and T'Challa wouldn't have just airdropped Bucky into the village and not warned them that he's dangerous, mentally unstable. At least, he wouldn't believe that they didn't tell anyone that they need to be ready to put the crazy one-armed foreigner down if he starts spiralling.
"Didn't seal me into a mud hut and leave me to rot, if that's what you're worried about." Even if that's the kind of fate he deserves. They might be eyeing something less pleasant than that for Zemo though. They won't be happy to know that he's out and about. Especially the fact that he's here, after all that time they spent trying to help Bucky.
"Oh, I can certainly see that." He tilts his head thoughtfully, those words on the tip of his tongue. How would he react to those old words? Would there be a spark of the soldier in him, or are they useless? He doesn't try yet, of course. It seems in poor taste.
Besides, no doubt Bucky may physically throw him out if he tried. It's easier to play pleasant guest for now, he supposes.
"My father lived in the country, you know. In his old age. He enjoyed the solitude... the time spent with just himself in his garden."
That's... unexpected. Like being slapped with an olive branch when he was expecting more poking and needling. For a moment Bucky doesn't seem sure what to do with that information. And then he just returns to spooning his oats into his mouth with a small little scoff.
"I'm older than him," Bucky points out. He's not going to speak on behalf of all old people but living that relatively uncomplicated life in solitude has its appeal.
Maybe... it is a little lonely. But Bucky feels safer too, out here. Nobody's looking for him - or so he thought. He can't hurt anyone. Nobody would know if he died out here. Maybe just the Wakandans if they put something in his left arm, letting them know it's attached to a decomposing corpse and they can come pick it up at their convenience.
"You talk a lot for somebody who's spent time in solitude." Don't say Bucky never sugarcoats anything.
"I suppose you do have a point. You don't look it, of course, but I'm sure there are plenty of old fashioned notions that would be startling to hear out of a mouth that looks so young." But it's part of the interest. A relic from the past, brought to modern day, taken apart bit by bit.
And now left alone to his own very poor devices, it seems. A shame.
"Do I?" He arches a brow. "Maybe I've simply missed conversation, James. It's been a very long time."
Old fashioned. Yeah. That's a nice way of putting just how out of touch with reality he is. Both literally and metaphorically speaking. Out here though there's none of that. The strays don't care how he talks, what he thinks, any of those old values he still holds onto.
"Maybe you should get a dog." He's not necessarily mocking Zemo. Okay, well, maybe a little bit. He's a spiteful and bitter grumpy old man, and he's clearly given up on raising his walking stick and shaking it in the air telling Zemo to git off his lawn. What can he say? But he's only half-kidding about a dog. She's helped him a lot through more bad days than he cares to admit he ever has had even though she doesn't talk back.
"Is this what you want? Living in the country in your old age." Of course, Zemo could afford many more comforts and indulgent little luxuries. Assuming he even lives that long. It's not always a blessing. Bucky's continued existence is testament to that.
"I have never been one for pets, really," he answers casually. "Too busy, so much travel... it wouldn't have been very fair. I imagine my son may have changed that, eventually. It was hard to say no to him..."
And children always reach a point where they're insistent on pets and swear that they could absolutely care for them. He supposes that won't be a concern anymore...
There's a bit of a sigh, and then a short chuckle. "I never considered old age, if I am honest. It had seemed far away, and now--"
Well, he hadn't planned on living so long. But here he is, only growing older. "I suppose it has its merits when you want to be left alone. I'm more accustomed to life in bustling cities though. I'm not certain I would know what to do with the quiet."
Well then. With any luck the quiet out here will drive Zemo crazy enough to not want to outstay his welcome (nevermind the fact that he's already outstaying his welcome right now).
"The closest city is a few hours' drive away. Nobody would know you there either." If he feels like leaving to chase greener pastures, so to speak. Don't let Bucky's irritable disposition stop him.
Bucky hadn't considered old age either. He's living what he thought it's supposed to look like. Mixed in with a bit of what had worked for him out in Wakanda. It's not really the same, out here on his own. He doesn't know how many more decades of this he will have. At some point maybe he'll be okay enough to care about the house not falling apart on him. He's not quite there yet.
"Thanks for breakfast," he mutters quietly once he finishes his oats. Yeah it's his own oats, but it's not like he would have bothered cooking them this morning. There are hardly any dishes drying on the rack.
Oh, not likely. Zemo was speaking of his past. Now? He's not certain what he enjoys. The idea of bustling cities, people all around after being locked away by himself for years upon years seems... daunting. Overstimulating in ways. He'd tolerate it, of course. He's remarkably good at tolerating discomforts, inconveniences... but who's to say how much he would enjoy it.
Besides, he's an international terrorist. Surely there is always a chance someone could spot him, or the Wakandans could track him down if he made himself too well-known. No, best to stay put for now.
There's a pleased smile at the small show of gratitude. "Of course, James. It's the least I can do for your... generosity. Allowing me to stay."
He collects Zemo's bowl once he's done and brings them both to the sink. For all the evident self-neglect and the way the state of the house seems to reflect the state of his mind, Bucky is still keeping a few self-care habits. He still dutifully keeps the sink empty instead of letting dishes pile up. He still showers and grooms himself. Brushes his animals and try to feed them on a more regular schedule than he feeds himself. Maybe not all is lost yet.
"I need to do some work in the barn. You can go get a bed and whatever else you need or move your car in." No, Bucky isn't intentionally trying to help Zemo. He doesn't want any more unwanted guests showing up or to be implicated in whatever shit Zemo got himself into, that's all.
"If I leave, will you use your chance to escape? Seems a shame to leave behind these animals that depend on you, doesn't it?" It's perhaps one of the very few things that he thinks will give Bucky pause before he runs off to escape being found.
"But a proper bed, yes, some clothes if I can find anything in the nearest town... that seems a good idea."
Bucky snorts and doesn’t dignify that with a response. Sure, he’ll climb out of the broken window of his own house. Slink away like a runaway teen.
“Sure, you’ll find me on the highway riding my cow out of town.” The better alternative would be for Zemo to leave and then Bucky can decide if he’s rattled enough by his unwanted guest showing up to pack up and leave.
Drying his hands off after drying the dishes, Bucky heads out for the barn. His dog seems to want to follow, but. It also seems rude to leave the only guest in years just sitting there. She looks out the door, then turns back to look at Zemo, then looks back at the door, uncertain if she should sit and stay or follow the grumpy old man out.
The dog doesn't have to wonder for long as Zemo moves to follow Bucky out, himself. He does need to store his car after all, make some plans for the other things he'll need to be comfortable. It's not exactly convenient, living so far out... but on the other hand, it means less a chance for Wakandans to work their way into his business.
Into their business.
"It seems you've made quite a few animal friends, at least..." Now if he can just graduate to other humans, he may be closer to a man than a weapon.
It feels like any amount of Zemo is too much Zemo. Probably the result of spending so much time in isolation. Even if Steve was still around, Bucky might bristle and grumble and squirm uneasily if he stuck around long enough to see the cracks in this veneer of a life that Bucky's carved out for himself.
The barn is not in the tidiest condition, but Bucky's clearly made an effort. He feeds his animals better than he feeds himself and his unexpected guests. He's been cleaning out the stalls, or the place would smell a lot worse than it currently does. He'd rather be left alone to sweep the floor and brush his cow, but, fine, he'll shoot glares and make conversation. It'll take him some time to get used to talking so much.
"They were due to be. Retired." He wouldn't claim to be so heroic as to have 'rescued' them. But as an animal that his old owners no longer have any use for, that's not as efficient or productive or easy to keep sedated and under control anymore, he can sympathise. "I had space for them. That's all." And if Zemo has any other ideas about his milkless cow, his puppyless dog and the occasional egg a week chicken, Bucky will most definitely not be having space for Zemo.
Even if the old girl is quite delighted with the company and seems to be giving Zemo heart-eyes whenever Bucky's not looking.
Zemo has no reason to do anything to Bucky's misfit animals, really. A life on a farm isn't... quite one that's quite appealed to him the same way it seems to Bucky, but it isn't the worst one he could have made for himself.
"That is a strange way to say you have a soft spot for animals, James," he taunts lightly, giving the dog a pat as she follows him. He's not quite sure what's enthralled her, but-- people tend to be a bit more trusting of those who are good with animals. He may as well use that to his advantage, the fact that she's not eagerly growling or trying to attack him.
She's good-natured. Sweet and trusting, wouldn't hurt a fly. Despite everything that's happened to her, despite the fact that she was targeted precisely for her gentleness, she still stays dutifully by Zemo's side and while Bucky wouldn't trust her judgement, the fact that Zemo isn't the one person in the world she is afraid of or doesn't want to be around is working in his favour.
"They keep me busy," he concedes with his head down and his hand on the big broom, doing a general sweep to make way for the car and move all the hay out the way. But he's about at his limit, even though he only has three animals. He's not nearly functional enough to take on more.
"You can park here, closer to the wall. I'll put some fencing up, give her her own space." Much as he wouldn't mind if she left a dent on the side of Zemo's car, it would mean he'll stay even longer than he has to. Don't say he never does anything nice for Zemo.
Bucky shakes his head. He's been existing just fine in his hovel without any care packages. He does hesitate though when there's an offer of steak for the pup. Yes, fine, she's never had one. Not out of neglect, he thinks he feeds her just fine. But she's been living off biscuits and the occasional roll.
"Sure." He looks at her, the innocent little traitor keeping out of his way staying by Zemo's side. At least she's keeping out of his way while he tidies up instead of following him around the barn.
"You can take her with you. If you want." He feels like he's going to regret this, if the way he grits his teeth after offering is anything to go by. "I don't know what she would like." God if he comes back with six squeaky toys, Bucky is going to break them.
"Ah-- what do you say? Would you like a ride?" There's an amused huff when he gets a wagging tail and excited stomping. He's pretty sure if he'd asked her anything at all, she'd have reacted like that. She seems to like the attention.
... he will come back with eight squeaky toys, just to torment Bucky further. He can't destroy them all after all. "I'll be back shortly then."
A little coaxing and he's convinced her to follow him to his car and to get into the passenger side. Of course he's not coming back empty handed for Bucky either -- whether or not he agrees about needing anything. Some fresh clothes, a few other nice gestures. Maybe something that isn't just swill to drink.
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"Didn't seal me into a mud hut and leave me to rot, if that's what you're worried about." Even if that's the kind of fate he deserves. They might be eyeing something less pleasant than that for Zemo though. They won't be happy to know that he's out and about. Especially the fact that he's here, after all that time they spent trying to help Bucky.
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Besides, no doubt Bucky may physically throw him out if he tried. It's easier to play pleasant guest for now, he supposes.
"My father lived in the country, you know. In his old age. He enjoyed the solitude... the time spent with just himself in his garden."
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"I'm older than him," Bucky points out. He's not going to speak on behalf of all old people but living that relatively uncomplicated life in solitude has its appeal.
Maybe... it is a little lonely. But Bucky feels safer too, out here. Nobody's looking for him - or so he thought. He can't hurt anyone. Nobody would know if he died out here. Maybe just the Wakandans if they put something in his left arm, letting them know it's attached to a decomposing corpse and they can come pick it up at their convenience.
"You talk a lot for somebody who's spent time in solitude." Don't say Bucky never sugarcoats anything.
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And now left alone to his own very poor devices, it seems. A shame.
"Do I?" He arches a brow. "Maybe I've simply missed conversation, James. It's been a very long time."
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"Maybe you should get a dog." He's not necessarily mocking Zemo. Okay, well, maybe a little bit. He's a spiteful and bitter grumpy old man, and he's clearly given up on raising his walking stick and shaking it in the air telling Zemo to git off his lawn. What can he say? But he's only half-kidding about a dog. She's helped him a lot through more bad days than he cares to admit he ever has had even though she doesn't talk back.
"Is this what you want? Living in the country in your old age." Of course, Zemo could afford many more comforts and indulgent little luxuries. Assuming he even lives that long. It's not always a blessing. Bucky's continued existence is testament to that.
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And children always reach a point where they're insistent on pets and swear that they could absolutely care for them. He supposes that won't be a concern anymore...
There's a bit of a sigh, and then a short chuckle. "I never considered old age, if I am honest. It had seemed far away, and now--"
Well, he hadn't planned on living so long. But here he is, only growing older. "I suppose it has its merits when you want to be left alone. I'm more accustomed to life in bustling cities though. I'm not certain I would know what to do with the quiet."
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"The closest city is a few hours' drive away. Nobody would know you there either." If he feels like leaving to chase greener pastures, so to speak. Don't let Bucky's irritable disposition stop him.
Bucky hadn't considered old age either. He's living what he thought it's supposed to look like. Mixed in with a bit of what had worked for him out in Wakanda. It's not really the same, out here on his own. He doesn't know how many more decades of this he will have. At some point maybe he'll be okay enough to care about the house not falling apart on him. He's not quite there yet.
"Thanks for breakfast," he mutters quietly once he finishes his oats. Yeah it's his own oats, but it's not like he would have bothered cooking them this morning. There are hardly any dishes drying on the rack.
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Besides, he's an international terrorist. Surely there is always a chance someone could spot him, or the Wakandans could track him down if he made himself too well-known. No, best to stay put for now.
There's a pleased smile at the small show of gratitude. "Of course, James. It's the least I can do for your... generosity. Allowing me to stay."
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"I need to do some work in the barn. You can go get a bed and whatever else you need or move your car in." No, Bucky isn't intentionally trying to help Zemo. He doesn't want any more unwanted guests showing up or to be implicated in whatever shit Zemo got himself into, that's all.
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"But a proper bed, yes, some clothes if I can find anything in the nearest town... that seems a good idea."
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“Sure, you’ll find me on the highway riding my cow out of town.” The better alternative would be for Zemo to leave and then Bucky can decide if he’s rattled enough by his unwanted guest showing up to pack up and leave.
Drying his hands off after drying the dishes, Bucky heads out for the barn. His dog seems to want to follow, but. It also seems rude to leave the only guest in years just sitting there. She looks out the door, then turns back to look at Zemo, then looks back at the door, uncertain if she should sit and stay or follow the grumpy old man out.
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Into their business.
"It seems you've made quite a few animal friends, at least..." Now if he can just graduate to other humans, he may be closer to a man than a weapon.
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The barn is not in the tidiest condition, but Bucky's clearly made an effort. He feeds his animals better than he feeds himself and his unexpected guests. He's been cleaning out the stalls, or the place would smell a lot worse than it currently does. He'd rather be left alone to sweep the floor and brush his cow, but, fine, he'll shoot glares and make conversation. It'll take him some time to get used to talking so much.
"They were due to be. Retired." He wouldn't claim to be so heroic as to have 'rescued' them. But as an animal that his old owners no longer have any use for, that's not as efficient or productive or easy to keep sedated and under control anymore, he can sympathise. "I had space for them. That's all." And if Zemo has any other ideas about his milkless cow, his puppyless dog and the occasional egg a week chicken, Bucky will most definitely not be having space for Zemo.
Even if the old girl is quite delighted with the company and seems to be giving Zemo heart-eyes whenever Bucky's not looking.
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"That is a strange way to say you have a soft spot for animals, James," he taunts lightly, giving the dog a pat as she follows him. He's not quite sure what's enthralled her, but-- people tend to be a bit more trusting of those who are good with animals. He may as well use that to his advantage, the fact that she's not eagerly growling or trying to attack him.
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"They keep me busy," he concedes with his head down and his hand on the big broom, doing a general sweep to make way for the car and move all the hay out the way. But he's about at his limit, even though he only has three animals. He's not nearly functional enough to take on more.
"You can park here, closer to the wall. I'll put some fencing up, give her her own space." Much as he wouldn't mind if she left a dent on the side of Zemo's car, it would mean he'll stay even longer than he has to. Don't say he never does anything nice for Zemo.
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He tilts his head to study Bucky, thoughtfully. "Is there anything you would like?"
He reaches over to give the dog a fond pat. "Perhaps the old girl would like a steak... I have a feeling she's never had one."
And if it warms Bucky to him, it's a small price to pay.
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"Sure." He looks at her, the innocent little traitor keeping out of his way staying by Zemo's side. At least she's keeping out of his way while he tidies up instead of following him around the barn.
"You can take her with you. If you want." He feels like he's going to regret this, if the way he grits his teeth after offering is anything to go by. "I don't know what she would like." God if he comes back with six squeaky toys, Bucky is going to break them.
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... he will come back with eight squeaky toys, just to torment Bucky further. He can't destroy them all after all. "I'll be back shortly then."
A little coaxing and he's convinced her to follow him to his car and to get into the passenger side. Of course he's not coming back empty handed for Bucky either -- whether or not he agrees about needing anything. Some fresh clothes, a few other nice gestures. Maybe something that isn't just swill to drink.