Somehow Jim ended up being Sergeant Barnes's crutch. The captain and the British major wandered off to the front of the column with a mixed group of guys who volunteered to be in the scouting party. Jim thought he heard the Brit saying he'd lead the scouts and that Cap should stay back to lead the rest of the guys.

Whatever, Jim thought. It's not my place to comment on tactics.

It was apparently his place to babysit Barnes.

They were supposed to be comfortably in the middle of a group moving at a glacial pace, trucks and tanks on all sides to protect them. As soon as they were on the move though, Barnes looked at Jim with a guilty face and said, "I'm not staying here."

To which Jim had replied, "Fine by me."

Regardless of what anyone said, Jim was not, in fact, this guy's keeper. He didn't even know him. What little he did know of this sergeant, the sergeant apparently didn't remember of him. Jim still wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do to tell Barnes that he had seen him in that doctor's lab. The guy seemed to be doing a spectacular job of ignoring his recent history.

Barnes's keeper Jim was not, but that didn't mean he was heartless. The guy did look ready to keel over any second. Jim followed him as he headed toward the back of the column.

"Greenlee, alright?" Barnes asked of a random soldier.

"Yes, Sergeant. Good to see you."

"Everything good, Sarto?" he asked of another man.

Jim followed in Sergeant Barnes's wobbly footsteps as he seemed to call out to each man by name and ask them how they were. "Good to see you, Garcia. Sight for sore eyes, Holt. Hanssen, look sharp. Check that bandage in a few hours, Meakes. Don't let me catch you holdin' a weapon like that again, Campbell. Hey, Sciame, keeping it together?"

The guy had something to say to everyone. And the ones that he didn't know by name, he seemed to know by sight. And these fuckers acted like they knew him, too! Strangers, all of them. Men in all types of uniforms (or no uniform at all, in the case of the French Resistance) nodded to this guy as he walked by, tossing up salutes that made Barnes swallow deliberately before he could return them.

Suzuki and Iguchi happened to walk by while Jim was following Barnes, and the two of them gave him the most bemused looks. Jim shrugged at them.

"Are you with them now?" Iguchi teased.

"I really don't know," said Jim.

"Hey," Barnes said, noticing their exchange. "I recognise you. Iguchi, right?"

Iguchi looked a little uncomfortable to be addressed so directly. "Yeah. Private Ichiro Iguchi. You took a few wallops to the knees for me. Thanks, by the way."

Barnes faked a little laugh. "I remember. Glad you got out. You alright?" said Barnes.

"Yes, sir. I'm just fine."

Jim gave him a sceptical look behind Barnes's shoulder. Iguchi returned it with a snarl and then slapped a hand at Suzuki's chest.

"This is Haruto Suzuki," he said. Belatedly, "Corporal."

"Nice to meet you, Corporal." Barnes jerked his chin in greeting. "Sergeant James Barnes."

"I've heard," said Suzuki. "Surprised to see you all in one piece."

"You're not the only one. You two from Jim's unit?"

They both nodded. "Nisei Rangers."

"Rangers? No shit. Glad to have you."

Their whole group turned when they heard the asshole with the bowler hat shout, "Jesus Christ, Jimmy, you won't stay where you're supposed to be for one minute!"

Barnes clenched his teeth. "Sorry, boys. I gotta go. Catch you all later."

And he started hobbling away in the direction of the back of the column again. After a moment of hesitation in which he looked both Suzuki and Iguchi in the eye, Jim followed after Barnes.

"Don't think we're gonna be able to outrun your friend," Jim said to Barnes once he caught up. (Pffft. Listen to him. Saying "we.")

"Neither do I," Barnes said. A nod toward a group that saluted him. Jim put himself under Barnes's raised arm and wasn't surprised at the weight that leaned into him. "But it's always worth it to try."

"Cut it out," the bowler hat-wearing asshole said behind them. He caught up within a few steps after that. "Can't you just listen for once?"

"No," Barnes said.

"Get back to the centre of the group, Sarge, please."

"You actually saying please, Dum Dum?"

"I know. You're pissin' me off so much that I'm using my manners."

"Must look worse than I thought."

"You do," Jim said lowly.

"Ha!" said the bowler hat asshole. "C'mon, come back to the middle."

"Fine out here, thanks."

"Sarge."

"Dum Dum, literally everyone has been staring at me this whole time. If I need help, everyone will notice. And hopefully they'll go get you or Captain Mother Hen or something."

Jim glanced around and confirmed that pretty much every pair of passing eyes was sneaking glances at the sergeant. Barnes's friend seemed to see the truth of it, too.

Barnes clapped Jim on the arm with the side that was draped around his shoulders. "I got my babysitter right here anyway. What more do you want?"

Barnes's friend looked rather constipated and didn't seem to have an answer to that question.

"Good!" said Barnes. "Show me where the rest of the 107th and 92nd is, will ya?"

He did. They were near the back of the column; most of them were apparently in good health. The men immediately took Barnes off of Jim's shoulder when they saw him and passed him around in hugs, whooping with elation. They seemed to think of it as an honour to be the sergeant's supports; there was always a guy on either side of him. Looked like they were taking turns. Clapping his back or mussing his hair with great affection. There was clearly tension growing around Barnes's eyes the longer this went on, but he didn't pull away from any of them. Greeted them all by name. Spoke personally to all of them.

Jim found himself on the fringes of the group beside the asshole. When Jim noticed that both of them were watching Barnes closely, he made a concentrated effort to look elsewhere.

Sheesh.

"Hey, Fresno," said the asshole.

Jim looked at him sideways.

"Sorry about what I said back there about us freeing everybody," he said. "That was shitty of me."

"Yeah."

"Nobody deserves to be left behind with those fuckers. I'm sorry."

Jim shrugged. He wasn't sure what to say. Wasn't used to having someone like this say anything sincere to him.

"Look, I'll make it up to you," said the asshole. He dug through one of the pockets of his jacket until he produced a crumpled pack of cigarettes with a half-empty book of matches. He got one lit up after fighting with a stubborn match and handed it off to Jim.

Accepting it and taking his first drag since before his capture, Jim felt himself smile. "OK. You're forgiven. Where'd you get those?"

He waggled his eyebrows at him so that his hat bounced on his head. "HYDRA smokes. Just like the rest of the world."

"How long you been sitting on those?"

He shrugged with poorly faked innocence. "I wanted to share it with a friend on a special occasion."

"Is that what this is?"

Lighting a second cigarette for himself, he said, "Buddy, if this isn't a special occasion, I don't know what is."

Jim savoured his cigarette, ignoring the longing glances of the men around him. Eventually, he said, "What's your name again? I can't keep thinking of you as the asshole with the bowler hat."

He barked a laugh. "Why the hell not? I'm Tim Dugan."

"Barnes called you Dum Dum."

"Only my friends call me that."

"OK, Dum Dum."

The order came down from the front that the scouting party had spotted resistance on the path. They were ordered to halt and scatter as much as possible into the woods beside the road. Dum Dum took this as his cue to take Barnes away from his companions and steer him back toward the centre of the column. Jim followed in their wake, counting the number of steps Barnes kept missing as he tried to keep up with Dum Dum's pace.

They didn't stop until they reached the highest concentration of trucks and tanks. Dum Dum deposited Barnes on the ground, leaning up against the tire of a truck that had already pulled off of the road.

"I'm fine," were the first words out of the sergeant's mouth after he caught his breath.

"I may not have been able to read before I met you, Sarge, but I'm not stupid." Dum Dum unhooked a canteen and dropped it into Barnes's lap. "Shut up and drink."

Jim thought Dum Dum might actually be stupid though, because he took off in the direction of the front of the column and, presumably, Captain America without another word.

Arching an eyebrow at Barnes, Jim said, "Should I have told them about you hurling back there?"

"Pfft. God, no. Fuckin' hurts to sit like this. Gimme a hand up. We're going to see what's going on."

"Think Captain America said you're supposed to stay out of any enemy contact." Jim helped Barnes up even as he said it.

"Yeah, well, he's not even a real captain, and I am a real sergeant."

Jim snorted. Who was he to question a superior?

Going to the front of the column was worth it: He got to see Captain America in action. It was amazing. Super-human. He and the four guys he asked to help him took out a squad of about twenty-five Germans guarding the supply line. Cap was everywhere all at once. Bullets couldn't overwhelm him. He was on the Germans before they even realised what was coming at them. Jim couldn't keep the surprise and fascination off of his face.

Barnes just looked like he was having about five strokes at once. As soon as Cap and his team (Dum Dum, his friend from the 92nd, the British major, and the French guy Jim recognised as the one he'd tipped off about Barnes) were back within range, Barnes chucked Dum Dum's canteen at them.

"Don't you dare say anything to me," Barnes said.

Cap caught the canteen and frowned at him. "You're supposed to be—"

"In the middle of the column, I know."

"So why aren't you there?"

"I can't believe what I just saw." He waved a hand to cut off whatever Cap was about to say. "You owe me so many explanations, it's not even funny."

They all got the explanation after they put a few miles between the back of the column and the German outpost. Vehicles were hidden as best as they could be along the roadside, and a perimeter was established around the men who bedded down in the thin trees. Jim formally met Monty, Gabe, and Frenchie. Met Captain America as just Steve Rogers.

They couldn't light a fire this deep in enemy territory. It was cold and damp, so they sat in a close circle with their shoulders bumping into each other. Dum Dum passed around another cigarette. They traded meagre rations and a canteen. Keeping with the resourceful precedent that Dum Dum had established, Frenchie seemed to have secured himself a bottle of something a bit stronger than water at some point. Lucky that he felt like sharing.

"Absolutely not," Cap said when the bottle was passed to Barnes, who was awkwardly placed between Cap and Dum Dum because of some ache in his back. Cap snatched the bottle away and passed it Gabe.

"If anyone needs a drink, it's me," said Barnes.

"Absolutely not," Cap repeated. Put a can on beans into Barnes's hands instead. "Eat slow," he said with a smug look on his face.

"You're loving this."

"Still running a fever?"

Dum Dum nodded.

"Don't be a rat."

Cap gave him a shit-eating grin. They had to wait for Barnes to eat half the beans before Cap told them the story. It was a story straight outta a fuckin' fantasy. Some German doctor had popped Cap full of some magic drugs and then shut him up in a pod to grow to twice his size in less than a minute. This guy really had grown nearly a foot and gained more than hundred pounds of what seemed like solid muscle. Insane. Incredible. If Jim hadn't just seen the guy take out that outpost, he would have never believed it.

Maybe he did with the bit about touring with the USO and selling war bonds. That part tracked.

"Something wrong with the beans, Sarge?" said Gabe.

Barnes had his face in his hands. He groaned. "Tell me this is made up, Steve. Fucking tell me you're just kidding."

"It's the truth, Buck."

"You didn't wait one day after I left to do the stupidest, stupidest shit."

"I actually met Erskine pretty much immediately after you left the Expo."

"This is literally making me sick."

Cap put an arm around Barnes and laughed. "Don't be dramatic. I'd've thought you'd be relieved that I don't need so much looking after anymore. I can finish my own fights now."

"No, you're just going to pick bigger and stupider fights now."

Somehow, they smoked the rest of Dum Dum's cigarettes and found the bottom of Frenchie's bottle that night. Barnes nodded off pretty quickly on Cap's shoulder, but the rest of them stayed up shooting the breeze and telling Cap about the factory. The captain had a lot of questions, and they did their best to answer them. Jim suspected that he wasn't the only guy to edit some of his replies though.

Some things just weren't his story to tell.