Bucky had never been to a downtown that he enjoyed driving through, and San Diego’s was no exception. There was nothing but concrete, buildings, cars, bikes, scooters, and pedestrians.
“We should have just taken an Uber,” Sam said.
Bucky pulled his eyes away from the congested road just long enough to throw a glare at Sam.
Clint spoke up from the back seat. “Nah, that would be insanely expensive. San Diego’s so spread out, we really need a car to do any proper exploring.”
They were in town for a convention and decided to extend the trip for some R&R. Sam agreed to be a guest in his role as Captain America to raise awareness about people displaced because of the Blip, and he managed to rope Bucky and Clint into tagging along. That ended up with them somehow becoming part of a panel in front of an audience.
Bucky couldn’t even remember the exact moment when he agreed to be part of the panel. It didn’t sound like something that he would agree to. Clint and Sam were talking, his mind wandered a bit, and the next thing Bucky knew, Sam was thanking them both for agreeing to join the conference.
Bucky was still trying to figure out a way to gracefully back out. He could feign illness, but the serum would make that an obvious lie. He never caught colds or the flu.
GPS was telling him that he needed to turn right. The light was green, but there was a pedestrian stepping off the curb with his nose in his phone, walking at the pace of an 80-year-old man with bad knees. The light wasn’t going to stay green forever.
C’mon, Pal.
“God, I miss the days before cell phones,” Bucky grumbled. “People actually walked across the street as if they had somewhere to go. They didn’t hold up everybody else and take their own sweet time.”
“Kids these days!” Clint leaned forward between the two seats. “Are we there?”
Bucky gritted his teeth. “For the last time, Barton, almost.”
If cellphone guy would move! Any slower and the guy’d be standing still in the middle of the crosswalk. A grumble rose from the back of Bucky’s throat as he gripped the wheel tighter. Any day now, Buddy. This light’s on a timer. The pedestrian swiped at his phone screen.
“You know, back when I was the Winter Soldier, I’d have killed this guy.”
Clint made a noise that sounded something between a choke and a laugh.
Sam was staring wide-eyed at him, not even blinking. “Man, you better not make any of those comments when you’re on the panel.”
Bucky raised his eyebrows. Like he had any desire to remind the world that he used to be a killer. “I can’t make any promises.” Maybe that would be enough to get Sam to kick him off the panel. “I’m not exactly right in the head, you know. I could go off at any moment.” He ignored the reproachful look Sam was throwing at him to glare at the pedestrian still making his way across the street inch by inch. The man’s eyes never once looked up from the phone screen.
“I’m not saying this guy,” Bucky gestured towards the pedestrian, “deserves to die. I’m just saying back then if he would’ve stood between me and a mission like this, I would’ve taken him out without missing a step. I don’t know if he’s a bad guy or good guy, but I do know the world would be a slightly more pleasant place without people like this in it.”
Sam shook his head. “You’re in a mood.”
Clint huffed. “So help me Barnes, if you say Thanos was right...”
“Thanos wasn’t right.” Bucky glanced at Clint over his shoulder. Although… “But for an ancient whatever he was, he didn’t go about it a smart way. You don’t just blip out half the universe and expect that to solve problems. The population would be right back where it was in a short time. Maybe a century. Possibly two. Hell, if he had eliminated all the bad guys and reduced the reproductive rate, he’d have succeeded. If he’d taken out the mass murderers, rapists, pedophiles, corrupt politicians, power-hungry dictators, and people who drive 55 mph in the fast lane, nobody would’ve bothered reversing that.”
Clint cleared his throat.
Sam shifted in his seat to look at Bucky. “Mass murderers, huh?”
Ouch. An amendment was needed. Bucky shifted in his seat, feeling both pairs of eyes on him. “People who knowingly and willfully murdered other people, not including those who were brainwashed or mind-controlled.” How many people could possibly fit within that exception?
Well, in the car, two out of three. Hmmn.
The pedestrian finally made it far enough to the other side of the street that Bucky could begin to nudge into the turn when a bicyclist came alongside the car. He hit the brakes and sighed.
He’d have probably killed that guy, too.