There wasn't exactly much to pack so soon came the fact that Brock would have to be carried down. He sure as hell wasn't going to let him do it bridal style and being thrown over the man's shoulder would just be difficult because Jack was so tall and the door frame not wide enough.

Finally, Jack sat down in front of him and said, "Let me take your cast off. You can hold on around my neck and without the cast that should be easier."

It took a while, getting the cast off, but after it was done, the freeness to his arm was welcomed. Brock was pretty sure everything was now healed but if he ever got the urge to punch a wall it still might not be a good idea.

Jack then got up and turned, kneeling down so that Brock could reach around his neck. Pulling himself up, Brock hanged on as Jack took him out of the room for the first time. He didn't concentrate on his surroundings though, trying to just keep a hold around Jack without choking him, his dead weight legs doing nothing but causing trouble. They did finally make it down the stairs and Brock was put into the passenger's seat.

Going back inside, Brock waited until Jack came back out and asked, "What was that about?"

"Just had to talk to the land owner."

"Did you kill him?"

"Believe it or not Brock, sometimes 'talk' literally means talk," Jack said with a roll of his eyes. He started the jeep and started driving down the dirt road. "Taking a car will be longer but also safer I figured. Especially since we don't have a wheelchair for you and a lack of a wheelchair makes us look a little strange."

"Oh, that's what makes us look strange," Brock muttered as he touched the burn on his cheek. "Yeah, that and the fact we look like hardened criminals doesn't help either."

Jack let out a snort but didn't say anything as they both lapsed into silence. This was the first time Brock had ever seen the city where he'd apparently been in for weeks, and he found that he wished he could've actually been awake and mobile for part of it.

He'd been to Africa twice for two different missions but that didn't exactly give you time to check out the local culture. Brock knew he could never be content, living the same lives as the people they drove by but that didn't mean he couldn't find them interesting.

Brock watched outside the window until they were out of the city and even then he continued watching the landscape as it passed him by. He wondered how many animals hid from them and the other few cars on the roads. He wondered if it was all really as barren as it looked. An hour and then two passed when Jack finally said something and Brock had to shake himself from his thoughts.

"What?"

"Well our last conversation was kind of cut short and I'm still curious. I asked what your mother was like."

"Why the hell do you want to know?" Brock asked, his calm disappearing.

"Because when you talked about her, she sounded like the most detestable creature on the planet. And I want to know why you would deny that you like sweets so much. I figured there might a connection," responded Jack as he glanced over. "It's simply an odd thing to get riled up about."

A part of Brock told him to shut up, to not say anything. He ignored that though, never having vented on this subject beforehand. Now all he wanted to do was scream as the memories came back. "She called it purging the devil. Said it cleansed me. She said that every time she beat me which was nearly once a day. I remember hearing my first rock song and liking it and singing it when I came home. What did she do? Give me an extra broken rib. When I said I liked candy, what did she do? She gave me another black eye."

"On candy?"

"She didn't trust the companies, granted she didn't trust much of anyone or anything new because it had to be evil. I tried going to the movies once and she beat me for it," Brock said, fingernails digging into his skin. "But you know the worst of it? She wasn't doing it to be mean or evil. She honestly thought she was doing some good. I ran away when I was ten. Some of it stayed with me though, even when I tried to let it go. Like sweets. I've never really listened to music either. Or watched movies or read books. Not for fun at least."

Brock had to stop talking for a moment, the scream still building in his throat but he finally eased it away until it disappeared. He hadn't shouted at Jack which had been good. "Did you ever have parents?"

"I was an orphan."

"You're lucky then. There are good parents out there, yeah I know that, but in my opinion, the chances of getting one of them are to high to make it worthwhile."

"Oh I don't know, being an orphan isn't all fun and games either. Did you know I was actually a runt as a kid?"

Brock had to do a double take. "You? You're kidding me, right?"

"No, when I hit fifteen I sprouted but before that I was one of the shortest, smallest kids there. No one thought I was going to grow any. Made me easy to pick on at first until I figured out there tricks. Then it was easy to undermine them or hide anyways. Eventually they all left me alone, even before I grew. After I grew I was the freak and I didn't really talk to anyone except when I had to."

"I would think that would cause you to have a hard time connecting with people. You seem to make friends easily."

"You have to realize the other orphans were like my brothers and sisters. They were annoying and rude and I never counted them as friends. I don't mind other people and if they think of me as a friend, that's fine. They just better know that the feeling probably isn't mutual."

"I can understand that," Brock said with a small nod. He glanced over, eyes narrowing as he added, "Why are you telling me all this? Why do you even want to know about me? Besides, you could've looked enough of this stuff out of a file."

"Not all of it. Not the things that mattered," Jack said. "Like the fact you've never done anything fun in your life. I'm guessing you didn't see Star Wars when you were young?"

"Nope. Probably the only fourteen year old who didn't."

Jack laughed. "God that's odd to think about. I was two when it came out."

Brock shook his head, his mouth lifting up into a smile. "Alright, you pulled out some of my past. Now let me ask you a question. Why the hell are you helping me?"

"Are you still preoccupied with that?"

"Yes! I tried figuring out what it could be but nothing came to mind. Just tell me."

"Give me one valid reason why I should."

Brock opened his mouth to sarcastically retort back it was because he couldn't run either way but quickly shut it again. Instead, he thought of an honest to god reason why he should know what Jack was keeping secret. This wasn't a game. It was a serious question that Brock wanted answered. Hesitantly, he said, "You seem to want to be my friend, said you considered us friends, but if you want that to be mutual, then I need to know what your aim is here."

Jack sighed, "That is a pretty good one. To be honest, I wasn't even thinking of admitting this but you just kept asking so I supposed I'd have to answer eventually." He let out another sigh and said, "I like you."

Despite what Jack had said earlier, Brock wasn't that blind. He blinked, opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it, looking away.

"I told you it would freak you out."

"I'm not freaked out."

"Uh huh," murmured Jack. "Is that why you're not looking at me."

"No. I mean yes! Wait, I mean—argh!" Brock buried his face in his hands. "That makes zero sense."

"Does it?"

"Yes! I'm brash, and loud, and rude. I don't ever make anything easy for anyone. And now I'm a cripple! What is there possibly to like?!"

"Well, for starters, if life was easy then it wouldn't be any fun now would it? Second, you being a cripple does not change who you are, or at least it doesn't have to. You're still amazingly strong and smart. You also neglected to add you're charming."

"But I'm rude! And I curse at you all the time. I can't keep my mouth shut when I'm pissed! What about that?"

"Believe it or not, humans are not perfect creatures so I don't expect you to be perfect," Jack said with a rather matter-o-fact voice. Then he stopped, a small blush moving over his cheeks and it was his turn to look uncomfortable. "Besides you're kind of funny and…cute when you get riled up."

"Cute? People have called me psychotic and intelligible. I've been known as charismatic and interesting but cute?"

Jack snorted. "Shut up okay. You wanted to know so I told you."

"Just don't tell me you have like…been keeping a crush on me since we met. That would just be weird."

"Oh hell no," Jack said with a laugh which eased the tension some. "As a kid I admired you, I admit that, but I didn't have a stupid crush and I certainly didn't idolize you either. Just as I know you're not perfect now, I knew you weren't perfect then. I don't think I really thought of you as…well anything besides a mentor until we got put in the STRIKE team together."

"And then you developed a crush?"

"Don't flatter yourself so much. It was more of an 'I'd like to get to know you' thing. Just as a friend really. We've both had each others' backs multiple times, I trusted you by that point. Subconsciously, I don't know when my thoughts on you changed but consciously it was when I had to choose between you or HYDRA."

Brock let out a sigh. "You do realize that I would've chosen HYDRA in your position."

Jack shrugged, glancing from the road to Brock with an unconcerned look on his face. "I wouldn't have expected anything less of you. HYDRA was your family for decades. You actually grew up with a warped version of a family and wanted to fix that so you did. For me, HYDRA was a job and nothing more. I never really had a family and didn't mind not having one. I never minded being the outsider. You're not like that so if you're trying to push me away or piss me off by saying you would've killed me instead of saving me it's not going to work. I already knew that beforehand."

"You…you are something else," muttered Brock with a shake of his head, honestly not sure what he should say. He closed his eyes and then reopened them but he was still in the jeep, still in Africa, and still paralyzed. He looked back at Jack who was once again concentrating on the road. "If I had a chance to get back with HYDRA but it involved killing you, do you think I would?"

"That's hard to say. You hold grudges for practically eternity but like I said, HYDRA was the family you made for yourself. I suppose, when I was gone and you were stuck alone, you most certainly would have. When you first woke, you would've killed me as well. Now, I don't know. You could be utterly disgusted by what I've said and plan on dropping me the moment you get your legs back."

It was so nonchalant that it shocked Brock. "How can you talk like this if you claim to like me?"

"For one thing, I rarely cloud my judgment with false hope. Also, something that plenty of people forget is that when you truly love someone that means you would do anything for them. For me, if that means getting ditched, traded in for HYDRA, that's fine with me. I won't give up my life, I do care about that more than you, but I will do everything in my power to make sure you are happy. If that means getting out of your life, then so be it."

"You're inhuman," Brock finally got out, still digesting all that had been said.

"I'm just being honest with you," Jack replied innocently as if he hadn't just spilled out his entire being along with Brock's entire psyche into the conversation. "Do you utterly hate me now?"

"No I'm…I'm a bit unnerved, in shock maybe, but I don't hate you," said Brock. "And for the record I wouldn't kill you just to get back with HYDRA. They…my trust was wrongly placed, let's just say that. I mean, I honestly think I'd rather give myself to Captain Rogers than get with HYDRA again."

"Oh, I don't know, Cap can be pretty violent sometimes. We did hold his brainwashed friend as a pawn for decades."

"Hey, I didn't know it was his friend, not that I would have or even could have done anything about it if I had."

"I wonder where he is now. I heard he escaped."

"Wherever that is, I'm sure he'll be fine. He's more than capable and Cap will take care of him once he finds him. I may not agree with that man's ideals but I certainly can't argue that he's probably one of the greatest men I've known."

"I'm surprised that out of everyone you've decided not to harbor a grudge against Captain America."

Brock shrugged. "Like I told him before, it really wasn't anything personal. He is who he is and I am who I am. Besides, Cap never hid his true face to anyone."

"True enough," replied Jack. He glanced over again. "And you do an excellent job of moving from subject to subject."

"Damn it."

"Don't be to hard on yourself. I only spotted it because I expected you to do something like that," Jack said. "I promise you I'll leave you be once you get—"

"No!" And it's not quite a shout but it's certainly not whispered either and Brock curses himself for that. "No-I mean-let's just talk about this later. Okay?"

"That's fine with me," Jack responded, giving Brock an odd look.

They both lapsed into silence and it would've been fine if Jack wasn't so damn unfazed by it. His calm acceptance of the whole situation was not only unnerving but also pissing Brock off. Brock also couldn't read the man which was annoying as well. Jack had a pretty good hold of his emotions so it was hard to tell if he was pissed too and just holding it in, or was being truthful about everything.

Brock tried to ignore it but despite trying to concentrate on the outside, he kept glancing over at Jack to see if something might slip through even though nothing did.

It took a while but he finally realized that he was basically changing the subject on his own consciousness. He just really didn't want to focus on his feelings and shit so instead he was trying to figure out Jack's own emotions. Realizing that didn't improve his mood either.

It wasn't even that it was Jack of all people liking him or that he was a man. That had nothing to do with it and any warped habits or feelings that had grown from his early life with his mom wasn't in the way either (he'd just been focusing on getting away not girls or boys for that matter so she hadn't bothered with any of that). It was simply the fact that someone, anyone, would want to be in a relationship with him.

Brock had never been in a relationship. One-night stands? Sure, it was one of the many options in relieving stress and when he was younger they could be pretty fun. But the job alone had left little to no time to think about relationships unless he'd wanted one within his own unit and he'd never even considered that.

He let out a groan, one that he knew Jack heard but really didn't care either way. Instead, Brock just made sure to turn his full body, picking his legs up to help get the desired effect, towards the outside and watched everything go by.

Jack ended up driving the entire night even though he'd probably been awake the entire day. The next day, they continued to drive, stopping for food, and occasionally chatting on the way. They stopped somewhere in Sudan to rest for the night and then the next five days they simply stopped on the side of the road when Jack needed to sleep.

The nightmares still appeared but Brock was always able to realize where he was before he did something rash. Jack knew about the nightmares and every time Brock woke up from one he was always shocked at how concerned the other was. However, Brock never said what had happened Jack didn't ask, keeping his distance. Brock wished they would stop and the seemingly random order that they came in didn't help either.

When they finally reached Bulgaria, it was the first place they stayed with an actual hotel. Jack ended up stealing a wheelchair as well, from who or where Brock didn't know. It made him feel a little bad but certainly not enough to give it back. It was nice not having to be carried around by anyone.

Jack had gone in, gotten the room booked, and then helped Brock get into the wheelchair and gave him the keycard, saying he was going to leave to get food and anything they might need.

Getting to the room was pretty easy and when he finally got into the room, it was nice to see something normal. He still needed to get some regular clothes, and shoes for that matter walking or not. The Ethiopian garb now helped to make him stand out instead of the exact opposite it did in Africa.

It wasn't until Brock had dragged himself into the bed that he noticed the object on the bedside table along with a note. When Jack had gotten it and how he had found the time, Brock had no idea. The book was old and the note said 'You still need to see the movies but this is worth the read as well'.

Brock shook his head and crumpled up the stick note to throw in a trashcan later. How the book was in English, Brock didn't know either seeing as everyone spoke Bulgarian. Instead, he let any thoughts on that matter go to the imagination and then began to read the novelization of Star Wars, the first time he'd ever read a book for enjoyment.

Jack arrived soon after with food, some weapons, and new cloths thank god. Before Brock ate though, Jack helped him get undressed and took him to the bathroom to help get him comfortable in the shower. Brock hadn't had a real shower in over a month so when he was finally left on the seat with the cool water flowing over him, he might as well call it heaven.

Once done, he changed into much more normal cloths with Jack's help, a t-shirt and a pair of boxers for sleeping in now. After eating but before he went to bed though, he found some scissors and was thankful when Jack had bought (or stolen but that didn't really make a difference) a razor.

In the bathroom, he snipped and shaved off the beard and finally calmed his hair in to the usual look he'd had for years. Once done, he noticed how the scars, especially the burn, seemed to be almost illuminated but it didn't really matter. He no longer looked like some wild thing that had crawled out of the ground and instead looked like himself.

It was a good feeling to go to bed with.