[He's not entirely wrong, but Monty has come prepared for this reaction. The gentleman sighs.]
If that is what you truly think, sir, then I shan't tell her that we've spoken. You may do so at your own discretion, should you so choose.
[This is a gamble, but one Monty's hoping will pay off. It's putting the onus on the other man to hold his silence and keep Renart apart from Monty, perhaps feed some small measure of guilt he might be feeling about coming between them and continuing to be the source of a separation.
He doesn't know Bucky terribly well, but from what he's gathered, Monty believes him to be an honorable man, one who won't be able to lie to Renart if asked directly.]
I am sorry I doubted your integrity, as well as hers. I confess, my failing is more toward her than toward you, or so it feels as such. I do not know you. Not really. We've hardly spoken. But I doubted a woman I love, and that is a far graver insult. I do feel more remorse toward her. But that does not mean I am completely blind to how it might have affected you, Mr. Barnes. I've spoken with others who had wiser council than my own. It was to them I should have turned in the first place.
[It's a good gamble, Bucky isn't the sort of person to lie to the people that he cares about, especially not about something like this. And it throws him off, Monty offering to keep quiet about it, puts cracks in his certainty that he feels no remorse at all.
But the flowery words continue to not impress him, and he folds his arms forbiddingly, the morning sun glinting off the metal of his left arm where a tiny sliver of it peeks out from between his glove and his sleeve.]
You did more than doubt my integrity, you committed murder. That's not just jealousy; I've met jealous husbands before, and they didn't go out and set up a trap to kill a man for it. And it wasn't a crime of passion either, I might'a understood more if you'd stabbed me to death in a rage when I first came to you, but you didn't.
[He wouldn't have approved, but he'd have understood more about why, and he'd have been more willing to believe the remorse.]
You waited, and you planned it, and you tried to make it so I'd never come back. That's not jealousy, that's just murder, plain and simple.
Mr. Barnes, I was attempting to indicate that jealousy motivated my actions. Not that it was the sum total of them. Had it been so, I might have simply glared at you from afar and carried on. What I am saying is that I will never do such a thing again. I've seen the grave error I've made in respect to my faith in Renart, my assessment of your character, and my actions toward you as a result of both of those things.
As I said, I will not beg your forgiveness. I am not owed it simply for apologizing. All I can do is act upon what I've said to show you I mean it honestly.
[Honestly, that's by far the least of what happened. It was what Recuerdo did to him after that, the memory loss and the forced change in attitude, that claws beneath the surface and won't go away. And it's the look on Renart's face as she apologised to him, like it was her fault, that keeps him angry.]
But I can't forgive you for what you did to Renart in doing it. But I guess that's not important, doesn't matter if I forgive you or not. Matters if she does.
[To both of them.]
And if you're expecting retaliation, then don't. I don't do that any more.
[It's certainly a start to something. Monty inclines his head. He can, at least, recognize a noble gesture, even if it makes him want to sneer at the other man. Monty holds his tongue well when he has need to.]
I understand. And as I said, I'll not seek her out simply to tell her I've apologized. I leave that in your hands, sir. As for retaliation, I more expect that from those who care for you. I appreciate your assurances, but while the loss of my love is a grave one, I doubt those who call you friend would count it sufficient recompense.
[Monty can't help the flash of a dubious look at Bucky's assurances about Dr. Watson. From what he's seen, the man is like a terrier, vicious and persistent when it comes to outing people's darker secrets. Hadn't his first order of business when Mr. Gray arrived been to force the man to announce his misdeeds on the Bulletin Board? It's not confidence-inspiring.
As there's little to be gained from saying as much, apart from slighting the integrity of one of Bucky's confidants, Monty keeps the words to himself.]
I'll be certain to give him no cause to reconsider his stance on the matter, sir.
[As for telling Renart, Monty only inclines his head in acknowledgement.]
Then I believe we're done for today, Mr. Barnes, unless there's something else you'd like me for.
[The smooth and calm manners get under his skin in a way that anger wouldn't, it just makes him think that all of this is one long con. A part of him even wants to beat Monty into the ground, take his revenge for the pieces of his memory played with and lost again, because he doesn't have any of HYDRA here to take that revenge on.
But that wouldn't help anything, and it would hurt Renart more, so he has no choice but to take a step back and shake his head.]
[It's a great deal of effort not to roll his eyes, but Monty manages. Instead he once again inclines his head, demure and submissive.] Yes, sir. [The gentleman moves off. He does hope he's given Bucky something to struggle with, if nothing else.]
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If that is what you truly think, sir, then I shan't tell her that we've spoken. You may do so at your own discretion, should you so choose.
[This is a gamble, but one Monty's hoping will pay off. It's putting the onus on the other man to hold his silence and keep Renart apart from Monty, perhaps feed some small measure of guilt he might be feeling about coming between them and continuing to be the source of a separation.
He doesn't know Bucky terribly well, but from what he's gathered, Monty believes him to be an honorable man, one who won't be able to lie to Renart if asked directly.]
I am sorry I doubted your integrity, as well as hers. I confess, my failing is more toward her than toward you, or so it feels as such. I do not know you. Not really. We've hardly spoken. But I doubted a woman I love, and that is a far graver insult. I do feel more remorse toward her. But that does not mean I am completely blind to how it might have affected you, Mr. Barnes. I've spoken with others who had wiser council than my own. It was to them I should have turned in the first place.
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But the flowery words continue to not impress him, and he folds his arms forbiddingly, the morning sun glinting off the metal of his left arm where a tiny sliver of it peeks out from between his glove and his sleeve.]
You did more than doubt my integrity, you committed murder. That's not just jealousy; I've met jealous husbands before, and they didn't go out and set up a trap to kill a man for it. And it wasn't a crime of passion either, I might'a understood more if you'd stabbed me to death in a rage when I first came to you, but you didn't.
[He wouldn't have approved, but he'd have understood more about why, and he'd have been more willing to believe the remorse.]
You waited, and you planned it, and you tried to make it so I'd never come back. That's not jealousy, that's just murder, plain and simple.
[Trust him, he knows murder.]
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As I said, I will not beg your forgiveness. I am not owed it simply for apologizing. All I can do is act upon what I've said to show you I mean it honestly.
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[Honestly, that's by far the least of what happened. It was what Recuerdo did to him after that, the memory loss and the forced change in attitude, that claws beneath the surface and won't go away. And it's the look on Renart's face as she apologised to him, like it was her fault, that keeps him angry.]
But I can't forgive you for what you did to Renart in doing it. But I guess that's not important, doesn't matter if I forgive you or not. Matters if she does.
[To both of them.]
And if you're expecting retaliation, then don't. I don't do that any more.
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I understand. And as I said, I'll not seek her out simply to tell her I've apologized. I leave that in your hands, sir. As for retaliation, I more expect that from those who care for you. I appreciate your assurances, but while the loss of my love is a grave one, I doubt those who call you friend would count it sufficient recompense.
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[He's only mostly sure that John will listen to him, probably he will as long as Monty doesn't deliberately antagonise him.]
I'll tell Renart that we spoke, everything that was said here today.
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As there's little to be gained from saying as much, apart from slighting the integrity of one of Bucky's confidants, Monty keeps the words to himself.]
I'll be certain to give him no cause to reconsider his stance on the matter, sir.
[As for telling Renart, Monty only inclines his head in acknowledgement.]
Then I believe we're done for today, Mr. Barnes, unless there's something else you'd like me for.
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But that wouldn't help anything, and it would hurt Renart more, so he has no choice but to take a step back and shake his head.]
Go, and maybe keep your distance.
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