Winter of the White Wolf: Post S1 of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier

by KLeCrone

While Bucky would prefer to believe that his time as the Winter Soldier is long behind him, strange dreams and the shadows of missing memories prompt him to explore where the Winter Soldier ends and the White Wolf begins... This story dives into the bonds of friendship, the aftermath of betrayal, and includes a lively mix of banter, action, angst, and globe-trotting adventure.

54. Temporal Avalanche

I had a wonderful time working with Haflacky ("Haflacky" on Twitter) on an incredible piece of art she created to accompany this chapter. Please check out this chapter on Archive of Our Own to see the art and link to her social media pages see more of her incredible art!

Once again: *huge* thanks to her for bringing this particular story moment to life!

Simply search for: "KLeCrone Ao3 Winter of the White Wolf"

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Winter of the White Wolf

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Chapter 54 - Temporal Avalanche

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Sam didn't need to know a word of Wakandan to get the drift that Shuri's decision to depart the Design Center without any Dora coming along for the ride was anything but standard protocol. While the princess was content to elicit help gathering medical supplies, changes of clothing, and arguably bougie camping gear for their short hop of a trip, she was firm and unwavering in her decree to fly alone with Sam.

As Shuri offered a salute to the two Dora Milaje and dismissed them, Sam had to admit that the resident genius was doing a damn good job feigning obliviousness to the disapproving stares of the two armored warriors who stood guard as the hatch closed.

Shuri wasted no time hurrying to the front of the ship where she easily hopped aboard the pilot's seat and settled herself with one leg hanging out and the other folded neatly over her lap. While he'd opted for what he hoped was the memory-inspiring appearance of his form-fitting Captain America suit, Shuri'd gone the other route, sticking to the same fashion-forward ensemble she'd been wearing hours earlier. Her sleeveless black and grey one-piece bodysuit was layered with an embroidered orange vest that shone brightly among the monotone interior of the ornate ship. It looked to be the same type as the one T'Challa and Okoye used to deliver him to the Design Center when he was laid out and nearly down for the count.

The movements of Shuri's hands were smooth and almost conductor-like as she brought up the navigation arrays over her hands and prompted the ship to smoothly lift off, "Always 'protocol, protocol.' You would think they saw me as a teenager in a foreign land with how loudly they make their displeasure known."

Sam settled into his seat, and for a moment, found one hand searching out a seatbelt before reminding himself that these Wakandan ships apparently came equipped with some manner of automated internal gravity systems he really ought to ask Shuri about when he had the breadcrumbs to spare, "On account of me, you mean?"

"Not specifically," Shuri clarified, "It is perhaps like your Secret Service? I grew accustomed to their watchful eyes when I was young, but now? It does not always suit me to stand in front of their shadows out of obligation. Especially when we are enroute to where three of their skilled sisters await us." She paused, adding, "And lest they forget: I am perfectly capable of defending myself against even repeated extraterrestrial threats. I can certainly pilot a Royal Talon Fighter without extra eyes upon me."

Sam didn't doubt it as the ship elegantly turned and headed off towards the mountaintop encampment at an unhurried speed that was just fine by his recovering nerves. He felt like this was one of the first times he could catch his breath enough to really appreciate the lush and expansive view outside. Everything he could see out the front of the ship was cast in a warm, orange-rimmed glow that foretold the coming sunset. It was beautiful, but it had a way of making him feel guilty. Not even two days earlier, he'd laid out in the grass next to Bucky, just looking up at the stars and talkin' about life, missions, grief, and the plans they had for the future. Buck'd gone on to claim the sunsets here were something else, and he'd bemoaned that they'd missed catching one.

"Another time," he'd promised.

As far as Sam could see from the light starting to warm the horizon, Buck hadn't been wrong. Sam just wished, well, that things were different, and the sight out the windshield didn't make some part of him feel he might've missed out on that opportunity entirely.

He did what he could to shuck that melancholy black pearl aside as he refocused on the conversation he was supposed to be having with Shuri, "Well as far as piloting goes, I'd take you over Barnes any day of the week. I know you'd told me the Soldier wasn't a separate person or anything, but I suppose at the time, I was assuming he wouldn't be able to pilot anything from here. I take it from everyone's reactions, that it was a first?"

"It was," Shuri admitted, "The part of him we might colloquially refer to as the Soldier could not parse our language or technologies. When he was activated, here at least, his mind grasped first to knowledge and behaviors from his time with HYDRA. This is… different. That Barnes appears able to reference pockets of recent knowledge but not others presents a very particular challenge." She sighed in frustration, "It would be immensely helpful to understand what he does and does not know, but he has shared remarkably little. He will ask, but not tell."

"Like he's gathering information," Sam remarked as he looked out across a series of towering waterfalls off to the port side of the ship as it skirted high across the mountains. "Do you know if he ever asks the same questions?"

"Never to the same person, but he will repeat questions across multiple individuals, I'm told."

"Comparing their answers. Lookin' for cracks," Sam concluded.

Shuri nodded agreement from the front of the ship, "Speaking of: While you were sleeping, Ayo told me that she and Nomble spoke to Barnes in languages they were certain he did not know prior to first arriving in Wakanda. Did you know he is fluent in an Elvish dialect?" Shuri quickly corrected herself, "I do not know it, but Nomble insists it is Sindarin, a fictional language she and James learned as a challenge many years ago."

It took Sam an honest-to-God few seconds to process that, "Wait, so… Bucky knew Elvish? Before all this, I mean?"

"Nomble insists he did. Do you know others that speak it? Or do you?" Shuri's voice was curious, but not overtly condemning.

"God no," Sam was quick to respond, "That has got to be one of the most ridiculously nerdy things I've ever heard. It's not even a real language! I wouldn't have let Buck hear the end of it if I'd known." He shook his head as he added, "What I wouldn't do to give him shit about something as stupid as that right about now."

Shuri turned her head around, and her understanding eyes briefly met his eyes, "I would be hard-pressed to know where to begin in a conversation with James," she agreed, "But I find myself thankful that this adversity has given us more time to talk candidly with one another." She turned her attention back out the cockpit as she spoke, "After the Decimation and the funerals, when he did not answer our summons or communications, I often wondered what life was like for him. Once it became clear that Steve Rogers made choices that would have him walk a different path, I worried that White Wolf's life might be absent of joy or meaningful relationships."

Sam caught the title immediately, but wasn't certain Shuri was even aware of the slip of phrasing as she continued, "Many of us worried for him, you see. Not because he owed a debt to Wakanda, but because we did not want him to have come so far, only to suffer loss and isolation. So it does my heart good to know that you have forged a path forward together. That even now, you do not shy away from seeking out connection and hope for the ailing man before us."

Sam sighed as he leaned back against the padded cushion, "Buck'd do the same for me. Besides: if Barnes can up and turn himself over to who he was thinkin' was HYDRA to get me some help, I figure I can try to scrape up some patience and understanding, regardless of if I get to tease the ever-loving shit out of him for learning Elvish. Lord almighty. I'm not even gonna ask if he knows Klingon." Sam watched as the ship tilted forward and the small cliffside encampment came into view below. He could make out piles of supplies, three fires, as well as four figures below: one standing inside the orange energy dome, and three Dora Milaje stationed with spears outside.

The sight of everyone waiting for them had a way of making his mind scramble to get his feet back under him. He knew he ought to figure out what approach to take once they landed, but he had a feeling this was due to be one of those improvised Choose-Your-Own-Adventures they'd have to make up as they went along. Even still, he tried his best to plan ahead. To figure out what he'd say to Barnes, what he could say to Barnes to try to pick up from where they'd left off and hopefully get through.

But it was hard, because much as he knew it was Barnes that was waiting for them below, what Sam wouldn't have given to have even a few minutes to just talk and confide in Buck about now. To have faith he was still in there, somehow. Or the important parts, at least.

But as his mama used to say: "If wishes were fishes, we'd all swim in riches." Wishin' wasn't due to get 'em anywhere. It was time to try their luck with the direct approach.

That being as it was, by the time Shuri'd coaxed the ship around and set it down into the long grass like she'd been a pilot in a past life, Sam'd gone from having something that resembled a plan, to second-guessing things as simple as 'Goggles, or no goggles?'

He was firmly stuck between the two options when Shuri's bright voice called for his attention, "Let me know when you are ready, and I will open the rear hatch." The Wakandan princess hopped down from the pilot's chair and strode across the length of the ship towards him, eyeing the bundled supplies accompanying their overnight stay. Sam ran his hand over the shield resting on the padded bench beside him, as if stroking it for good luck, or something like it. He didn't know what, if anything Barnes remembered about the red, silver, and blue vibranium frisbee, but that was due to be a conversation for a decidedly different time.

Sam grounded himself and took a deep breath as he got to his feet, slinging the shield behind his back where it latched onto the flight pack with a metallic snap. No goggles it was. "I'm as ready as I'll ever be," he admitted. "You as nervous as I am?"

"I am told I hide it well," Shuri conceded before a hint of a smile crooked a corner of her mouth, "But when he and I last met, do not forget that he desired to maim me with your cell phone. At least you got a sizable upgrade out of the exchange."

Sam snorted lightly, thankful that Shuri could muster some amount of humor over what'd been an outright terrifying situation at the time, "I take it you still have that suit of yours ready as a contingency?"

She tapped her fingers along the beaded choker around her neck, "Always, though I hope I do not need to use it again so soon." She used the same hand to gesture at her orange, black, and grey outfit, "Can you believe some would now consider this to be vintage fashion simply because it is from the time before the Decimation? If it suffers destruction by my nanites, I will be very cross with Barnes."

Sam smiled through a sea of well-meaning nerves, "Well, no time like the present, right?"

Shuri stepped beside him and squeezed his shoulder in solidarity as they prepared to disembark, "I would have you go first and take the lead. The first few moments have the potential of framing all that follows, and I suspect he will favor your words over mine, especially since it appears likely he believes I performed experiments on him against his will."

Sam caught the note of sadness in her eyes at the admittance. He couldn't imagine standing in her shoes in that moment, realizing that after all she'd done to try to help, the days, weeks, months, and years of trials and tribulations that people like Sam could scarcely begin to imagine, that the person on the other end thought so poorly of her. Maybe even hated her.

The young woman beside him stood with her head held high, ready to face whatever awaited them, but he didn't miss the way she nervously held her hands one within the other. It had a way of betraying how she was really holding up, which was probably not nearly as well as he was giving her credit for.

Before Sam could risk over thinking things, worrying about the protocols or impropriety of the act, he reached over and gave her own shoulder a squeeze, same as she'd done to him on more than one occasion. It was clear she'd been deep in her head enough to not see the move coming, but when she looked up and met his eyes, the Princess of Wakanda offered him one of her genuine smiles, the one that said without words, 'Thanks. I needed that.'

He returned the smile before looking back out towards the back of the ship. All things considered, he agreed it made tactical sense for him to take the lead, but it didn't do anything to quell the squirrels running around in tight circles in his gut. Somehow, he managed a tight nod that signaled Shuri that he was ready for whatever came next. She took a deep breath before pressing a runic symbol along one of the Kimoyo Beads encircling her wrist that prompted the rear hatch to open.

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The sight out the back of the ship was a sunset-touched sprawl of patchy ground shrubs nestled among a half-circle of towering acacia trees. Their armlike branches stretched out, protectively surrounding a relatively flat clearing of rolling grass that looked out onto the picturesque open canyon below. From this angle, the expansive view of towering mountains and a series of immense, distant waterfalls looked like something straight out of National Geographic.

Though Sam'd briefly glimpsed the area courtesy of a stretcher a little over a day ago, it looked and felt remarkably different now. Part of that was no-doubt credit to crackling fires and lived-in appearance of the makeshift campsite, and how it was neatly arranged around the dull glow of the orange energy dome. But Sam had roughed it more times than he could count, and he didn't miss the little things that made it apparent this wasn't strictly a prisoner-of-war camp posting. Little things like a four-person wooden game board that was discreetly tucked away to the side, colorful little mismatched clay cups and bowls that he would have bet his wings were straight outta Mamma and Ch'toa's cafe, and the fact that he could spot the areas of flattened grass where bodies, bedrolls, and blankets had been laid out beside one-another like a cozy social chain.

Like friends camped out under the stars, sharing an experience together.

Sam hadn't been entirely sure how he'd react to the sight of everything, but the combination of the scent of something sweet and calming in the air nestled against the comfort of the assembly of familiar faces hit him hard. He was thrilled to see everyone again, even if the circumstances certainly could've been better, but as far as he was concerned, all these folks were gonna be getting calls and holiday cards every year for the rest of his life for as long as he could hold a pen.

Yama stood a few steps to the side of the open hatch with her chin up and spear in-hand. Her eyes flicked to Shuri, but they settled on Sam's own. Through some Dora Milaje-style feat, she managed to remain still and nearly expressionless, yet still offer a subtle air of relief and greeting. Beyond her, Ayo and Nomble stood in a matching guard-stance on either side of the orange flare of the living energy dome, but Sam didn't miss that Ayo's leg, the one Barnes had donkey-kicked in the first few seconds of his escape, was now wrapped at the knee. He was bettin' that wasn't a new injury, much as it probably was that Yama insisted on seeing to it herself.

To think only a few days ago, she was just another face in the crowd. Now he couldn't help hoping that maybe one of these days when the air wasn't so thin, it'd be worthwhile to compare notes on the backbones and techniques of their respective field training regimens. It was entirely possible she didn't even know he'd trained in pararescue, and he was pretty sure he had a whole hell of a lot he could learn from them too.

Between Ayo and Nomble, just inside the closest edge of the semi-translucent orange light of the energy barrier, was a man looking back at him with blue eyes that weren't quite right, but also weren't nearly as cruel and empty as Sam's nightmares made them out to be. He stood with his shoulders slightly hunched with his right hand gripped tightly around his vibranium fist. His calculating eyes bore directly into Sam's own.

Contrary to appearances, Sam had to remind himself that this was Barnes, not Buck, and to keep his expectations in line with the awful reality they were dancing in. But for a moment, just a moment, he caught a whiff of something in the other man's expression that took him back to a very particular place. It was that breathless moment after a firefight when your heart was threatening to pound out of your chest. When you feared for the worst, only to frantically catch sight of your allies, your wingman, your partner across the battlefield. It was that first solemn breath of relief when your eyes met and you each realized the other had survived. That they were okay.

That you were okay.

That you were both gonna be okay.

The sight of it swimming in Barnes's eyes hit Sam hard, and took him back to missions long before he and Buck had ever met. Before and after Riley. Before and after Steve, Nat, and other faces that punctuated his mind like chapters of his life collected into neat little bookended sections. But Buck… Sam didn't want to imagine their partnership had been brought to an abrupt and altogether premature end. Not yet. So he drummed up what courage he had and did his best to meet Barnes's eyes with as much genuine relief and emotion as he could muster. He hoped the other man could parse his promise to help, and his standing hope to find a way forward, no matter how rocky the path ahead of them.

Barnes, well, he'd looked better, but he'd also certainly looked worse. He stood upright with his weight over his right foot – the one with the boot – while he used the heel of his injured foot for balance. The cuff of the jeans surrounding his bad foot had been rolled up allowing for a clear view of the bandaged foot. Sam was relieved that it appeared to be back in one piece, though the swollen, discolored toes sticking out from under the wrapping were a blatant reminder that Barnes hadn't been privy to the advanced medical treatment Sam'd gotten. He couldn't imagine how painful it must be to stand on.

While Sam couldn't spot any blood seeping through the bandages, Barnes's clothes and nearby surroundings told a story that was far less immaculate. The dark brown patches of dried blood were telling and hard to miss, especially since Sam knew a fair amount of it was shared between them.

Barnes's face and arm were peppered with deep tell-tale bruises from the fights and falls he'd been a part of day before, but he was still inexplicably wearing his dog tags, Kimoyo Beads, and that blue, black, and gold-trimmed shawl T'Challa had gifted him. The ornate patterned fabric had a way of tempering the part of Sam's mind that wanted to peg the broody, battered man in front of him squarely as the Soldier. While Barnes's blue eyes flicked briefly behind him to Shuri, they quickly returned to focus first on him, and then the red, white, and blue spangled suit he was wearing.

Did he recognize it, or the significance of it?

Did he have a clue that he'd been the one to pull favors with the Wakandans to manifest it into being?

Probably not. But Sam remembered.

It was about then that Sam realized no one was talkin', and everyone was collectively waiting on him to make the first move. So he gathered his remaining nerves together like a handful of spaghetti and took another step forward onto the grass. Sam wasn't sure what the protocol was here, but he played it by ear, nodding first to Yama, "Hey. Good to see you again."

Yama's eyes flicked to Shuri, and something must've passed between the two of them, because Yama and the other Dora Milaje assembled nearby quickly offered Shuri a hand to chest salute before returning their spears into formation beside them. Yama spoke next, but at a volume Sam was certain was meant to be heard across the camp, "And you. You may find yourselves more at ease if you sit as you converse." She paused a moment before thoughtfully adding, "He is often quiet, but he is not made of glass."

"Thanks," Sam replied, and Yama offered him a small smile before she repositioned herself in what Sam recognized as a guarding pose for Shuri. The Wakandan Princess made a gesture with one hand, as if prompting him to go ahead of her on his own.

At that, Sam found his footing and crossed the grass towards Barnes. He stopped a few feet away from the nearest edge of the divide when his howling nerves got the best of him, and insisted on reminding him of the violence that pair of mismatched hands had brought down upon him barely a day earlier. Barnes might have been standing still, but every part of Sam's instincts were on high alert, screaming that he was standing too close to a predator's shadow. Sam looked first to Ayo, then Nomble, but the two Dora Milaje stayed silent as they watched on with their spears in-hand. There was a lot he wanted to say, but he was having a hell of a time wrangling the right words to get things rolling.

"It is alright," Ayo gently offered. "We can talk later. Focus on the task before you. We understand." She turned her attention to Barnes and added simply, "Sam's native tongue is English."

Sam wasn't entirely sure what that was about, but he supposed it was better than Elvish, or whatever other ridiculous languages the ex-assassin had thought to collect along the way.

Sam watched Barnes's intense eyes move between Ayo's and back to his own before they traveled down his vibranium-threaded arms and came to rest on his hands. Specifically: the exposed skin sticking out from his fingerless gloves. Barnes kept his attention focused on those fingers, leaving Sam with the distinct impression he was being methodically evaluated piece-by-solemn-piece. The thing Sam found… interesting… if not faintly encouraging, was that since he'd last seen Barnes, that the other man had apparently developed the capability of wrangling some subtle emotions across his face, producing something that wasn't as eerily neutral and altogether disconcerting as he remembered. It wasn't what anyone would consider expressive, to be fair, but there was a fair bit goin' on under the surface. An intensity of purpose. Concern. Uncertainty.

"So uh," Sam began, fumbling his usual aptitude with monologues, "I had something prepared, but honestly my heart's racing a mile a minute here and I'm just… I'm relieved to see you up and about. Are you doing okay? Is there anything you need? Shuri brought some sort of high tech med-kit that –"

"What'd they do to you after you left?" Barnes's expression didn't change. It stayed focused on Sam's eyes as if he was searching for cracks.

Sam took a breath in and out. He'd forgotten how unsettling it was hearing Buck's voice, but someone else talkin' through his lips. At least this time, it wasn't nearly so painfully defeated. "They took me back to the Design Center. Eventually Shuri helped fix me up. That's where I was when we sent you some photos. You saw those, right?" Sam wished he wasn't on-edge. He was right back in that tumultuous mental place where he worried one misplaced word might set the other guy off. Even so, Sam did what he could to force the fear back down as he slowly extended his hands towards the barrier so Barnes could see them better. He flexed the tight digits experimentally as if to provide proof to his claim, "Couldn't tell you much about the details of the process, other than its damn-near miraculous tech that's a far-cry from anything I've seen up until this point."

Some part of Sam tried to appreciate that Barnes had something like bonafide expressions, running over his calculated face, but everything about his posture was anxious and wound so damn tight that Sam's nerves continued screaming 'Soldier!' even though nothing about him was outright antagonistic. While he appreciated the solemn fact that both Yama and Nomble had apparently gone inside that same dome to hang out with Barnes of their own free will, Sam was presently thankful to have the barrier between them. It didn't take much for him to self-identify that he was justifiably scared of Barnes, and what he was capable of, and Sam was pretty sure the man on the other end saw it reflected clear-as-day.

"What about your face?" Barnes leveled.

Sam did his best to shake himself out of some pointed thoughts surrounding the sensation of Barnes closing his grip tight around his throat before he pulled himself back to the present, "Same deal. I was under for most of the heavy lifting. Shuri says there's still a bit more to go, including something I think she called a 'Follicle Stimulator' that will help with the hair growth." He was doing everything he could to be cordial, factual, but damned if it didn't feel like trying to ignore the fact that Barnes had been the one to dish out the damage himself. "But I got a full reconstruction and even a new set of pearly whites to go along with it, so there's that."

Sam wasn't sure why he thought the mild injection of humor would do a damn thing, but Barnes just stood there with his gaze fixed on him like some sort of human-shaped mountain with a metal arm. The Terminator didn't say a word. "Look: I'm not sure how exactly we're supposed to pick up from where we left off, because frankly? Where we left off had an awful lot of punching and screaming –"

"You were the one screaming," Barnes was quick to observe.

For a second, just a moment, Sam's mouth automatically went straight to workin' on a snappy retort, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nomble's mouth crook in a smile. "-WaitAMinute," Sam rolled his palm up, "You tell jokes now?"

Barnes's expression shifted, threading together into something a shade lighter and less ominous as he leaned his weight into his other leg, "It wasn't a joke."

It may not have been, but okay, maybe Sam could work with that. Encouraged, he followed his question up with another, "Okay, well, am I allowed to ask questions now too?"

At that, something in Barnes's mannerisms visibly shifted and darkened. It was as if the walls suddenly came back up between them, and when he crossed his arms and lowered his head in a menacing glower, the hairs standing at attention on the back of Sam's neck screamed that he'd better watch himself.

The hell? What was that about?

Sam took a reflexive step backwards, "-Okay I'm getting the impression I overstepped somehow. Loud and clear. Message received. But you've gotta help me out here. I can't read minds. 'Specially yours."

Yeah, by the way Barnes's eyes were flickering around between everyone with that wild, cornered look Sam recognized all-too well, something was up, but he'd clearly missed the memo.

Ayo must'a caught it too, because when Sam caught motion to his left, it took him a moment to piece together what was happening in real time. Ayo'd moved her spear to lean against the crook of her right elbow while both of her hands made a series of rapid gestures that Sam couldn't translate, but he immediately recognized as some sort of sign language he didn't recognize. She concluded the sequence by motioning one open hand pointedly in Sam's direction.

The strange dynamic between the three of them was something alright. Ayo'd sent word to Shuri that they were making progress, even she and Barnes, but seeing it in action was altogether surreal. It was as if he was looking to her for… what? Guidance? Reassurance? It was very particular, alright, but it hadn't been the sort of borderline obedient expression he'd seen Buck ever give Ayo, or well, anyone really.

When Barnes looked back in Sam's direction, he got the distinct impression Ayo'd must have laid out some manner of food-for-thought or encouragement by the way he'd resorted to chewin' his lip. That wasn't to say the fight'd gone out of him completely, but something in what she'd signed had cut through the noise and quelled whatever had started to spiral and risked snowballing out of control entirely. Sam thought about asking what she'd said, but he figured it didn't matter so long as it gave him the opportunity to cautiously step back and give things another go.

So he held his tongue and waited.

Barnes glanced at Ayo and back to Sam, but offered no translation for whatever private words she had for him. In the meantime, Sam didn't miss the subtle 'sit down' gesture Nomble made with her free hand, as if reminding him of Yama's earlier suggestion. His bruised brain considered the request uneasily. Though he knew there was a live energy shield between them, his well-honed instincts offered up sizable objections to the logic of getting comfortable on the ground so close to Darth Vader there.

With more than a little effort, he forced down the well-intentioned nerves and did it anyway, promptly ignoring the part of him that noted he was due to get dirt on the backside of his nice, clean suit.

Well. Wouldn't be the first time.

From a few feet to his left, Ayo leaned heavily on her spear as she lowered herself to the grass and got comfortable. Well, somewhat comfortable. By the way she was stretching out her bad leg, it was apparent it was more than a sprain, which made Sam wonder why she hadn't gotten it looked at when she'd been back at the Design Center.

Barnes stood and regarded them for a moment longer, looking to the nearest figure that was still standing: Nomble. She made a face, and Sam swore he saw her roll her eyes as she took a few steps to one side and seated herself atop a nearby log. After she did, she inclined her head towards Barnes, as if prompting him to join them.

Wouldn't you know: after an evaluating moment the brooding figure uncrossed his arms and leaned an arm back so he could take a seat too. As he did, Sam didn't miss that he inexplicably managed to fold his long legs in that ridiculous cross-legged arrangement he'd favored on their escape ship. Why? Sam had no honest-to-God idea. It looked as utterly ridiculous now as it did then, though at least this time, he wasn't bleeding all over the place.

That palpably uncomfortable dynamic continued to linger in the air as Sam licked his lips and tried again, "Okay so… forget I asked that. I just… I wanna help. But I don't know how. I don't know what this is," he gestured between them, "but you've gotta believe I'm trying. If you wanna talk: I'll listen. If you have questions: I'll answer 'em. If you wanna sit: I'll sit. I just want you to be okay. That's it. I'll take things at your pace. You just tell me what you wanna do. How you wanna play this."

Those blue eyes of his were something else. Sam couldn't tell what was going on behind them, but they were anything but empty. It was like they held a whole new language he didn't understand. He wished he could. He tried to remember Barnes's last questions for him. It'd been about his face. About what they did after he'd been hauled off. Sam focused on that.

"Like I told you before they carted me off to get help, we're good, okay? I know you didn't mean to hurt me as much as you did. Is that what this is about? Or is it something else? I could use a little help here connecting the dots."

"Was she there too?" Barnes's voice was even as his eyes kept Sam under a microscope.

"Who?"

"M'yra."

Sam was struggling to remember if he'd heard Barnes refer to any of them by name up until this point at all, but he hadn't seen this specific one coming from a mile away. There was something in the way he said it though, the crisp Wakandan accent, the intensity of his expression that was direct as it was sincere.

The regalia-clad warrior that had caused him that grievous injury to his foot, he was asking about her.

"Yeah. I only got to talk to her once, though. She's recovering, but she's been through a lot." Sam did his best to keep things straight to the point, but with each word, he wasn't sure if he was due to make things worse. Even so, he felt like honesty and offering up transparency about what Barnes was getting at was probably as good an approach as any, "She can't walk right now, and they had to amputate part of her right arm just above the elbow."

That got a reaction out of Barnes. He lifted his head, keeping his eyes leveled on Sam's. His expression shifted uncomfortably, as if he was processing the information, but also waiting for him to continue, "She said she didn't intend for you to be in pain either, and that she hopes one day you both can meet on better terms."

While Sam deliberated on what more he could add to that, Barnes came out of nowhere with a follow-up question he hadn't seen coming, "Did she know him?"

Sam felt like it suddenly dropped ten degrees as he looked back at those icy blue eyes, knowing at least a fraction of what Barnes was getting at without being willing to put more out in the open. Had M'yra known Buck? "Only in passing, I think," he looked to Ayo, hoping she might step in on this dicey topic that was well outside his realm of knowledge.

"Not well, no." Ayo succinctly agreed, adding by way of explanation, "She was tasked to protect those in the Propulsion Laboratory."

Sam got the distinct impression Barnes was chewing on her words and rolling 'em over that jumbled mess of a mind of his. Shuri'd told him that Barnes had continued to ask for updates about him and M'yra, but seeing it first hand was… it was something. It wasn't the least bit performative so far as he could tell. In fact, it clearly wasn't even the first time he'd asked one of them the question. Barnes must've put together that since Sam was back at the Design Center, he might've seen M'yra more recently, so he wanted an update on her condition. Maybe even a reassurance it hadn't worsened. "She was sittin' up and talking," Sam offered, "They have her in a nice recovery room. Felt a bit like the outdoors, if you'd believe it. The speakers were playing some sorta nature sounds."

At that, Ayo spoke up, though her voice was for Barnes, "M'yra is of the River Tribe. The audio track they play in her room is a recording taken from outside her family's home. It is a way to offer comfort and familiarity when in strange surroundings."

Barnes listened to what she had to say before looking patiently back to Sam, as if waiting for him to continue. Sam had so many questions he desperately wanted answers to, but he knew he'd have to hold his tongue in the meantime as they worked their way through this strange dance of theirs. He didn't know a drop about that River Tribe bit, but it seemed right to pass along the rest of M'yra message to Barnes, "M'yra wanted me to tell you that she thought you chose honorably to ensure I got the care I needed. Her words, not mine. I think I can speak for myself on that one though, because I dunno how things would've turned out if you hadn't turned me over when you did."

Barnes didn't bristle, didn't say anything. The once Winter Soldier simply watched Sam, drinking him in like he was trying to take in his words and all of him all at once.

"So how about we start closer to square one, okay? We obviously started off on the wrong foot. Shit happened. I'm guessing somewhere along the way, we both realized some of our standing assumptions about each other might be factually incorrect. That happened. But here's the thing," Sam leaned forward, pushing against his better instincts that told him to keep as far away from Barnes as possible, "Somewhere between then and now. On your own. You decided that makin' sure I got help trumped your solemn goal to get away from all this. And best I can figure, is that you thought there was a chance the people after us were HYDRA. They're not. But you couldn't know that for sure, and I get that now." His mind traveled back to the scans of those nails embedded in his partner's head, "And moreover, I understand now more'n ever why that was a downright terrifying prospect. At least best I can from the outside. I didn't go through what you did. No one deserved any of that. No one."

Sam was doing everything he could to keep a lid on his emotions, but damn if it wasn't a struggle to keep the words flowing when part of him was breaking inside wondering if anyone had taken the time to say any of this to Bucky. Doctor Raynor and even Samuel T. Wilson had tossed out well-meaning advice about making amends, but now? Now he couldn't help thinking that in some backwards way, the both of them had a roundabout way of making it out to be that Buck owed other people amends. That the weight of his crimes was somehow squarely on him. Sam'd even made it a point to slip into VA counselor mode and blissfully insist that maybe the nightmares would stop if Bucky allowed himself to be of service to others, but didn't that imply guilt? That he was still in some way responsible for the horrific things he'd done at the request of others? That the dirt on his conscience and blood on his hands was his own doing? That those names he'd penned down in Steve's old book were his responsibility? His burden to bear?

Even though he was clearly a victim?

All Sam wanted in that fragile moment was for Buck to blink awake so he could give him the biggest hug imaginable, and blubber apologies for just how much he didn't get all this until now. How sorry he was for all the snide remarks he used to make, for the well-intentioned advice that ignored the depths of his victimhood, and for not seeing how much he was struggling. Moreover, Sam wanted to acknowledge that he'd been so caught-up in his own head that he'd been unwilling to show the vulnerable parts of himself or make a decided effort to really connect. Not just for Steve, but because it was the right thing to do.

Sam did what he could to ground himself, to keep his voice steady as he could as he faced Barnes and tried with everything in him to see him for who he was, and not simply the man Sam so desperately wanted him to be. "I wanna be clear with you that when I say 'Thanks for getting me help. You might've saved my hands, if not my life. What it means isn't lost on me,' what I'm sayin' with every part of me is that I realize you were willing to up and potentially sign over your life to some of the biggest assholes on the planet to get me help. And Barnes? I may never begin to understand why when the cards were down, you chose my life over yours, but you did. That's a fact. And I said it once and I'll say it again: If there's anything I can do to help you get what you want, what you need, I'll do it. Straight away: I'll do it. You've got me in your court, and I'm not goin' anywhere."

---

Barnes sat and watched Sam for cracks, for signs that his mind had been tampered with, wiped, or manipulated. Yet the more he talked, the clearer it became that the man sitting on the ground in front of him was the same person from the day before, only now he was clad in a brightly colored uniform that offered more than a passing resemblance to the ones Steve Rogers had worn.

This appeared to be the same man he remembered from Washington D.C., who he'd fought against, but who also later watched over Steve while he recovered from the plethora of wounds Barnes had repeatedly inflicted upon him.

Barnes remained convinced this man before him was also the same man who Steve worked with to try and learn more about "Bucky," up to and including trying to plan out the initial stages of how they might go about tracking him down.

Had they ever found him? That man they were looking for? The one from their classified KGB file?

But what Barnes kept coming back to again and again was that the dark-eyed man sitting before him, the one with a patchy beard and soulful expression, was that Barnes had gravely injured him the day before. Badly, even. Yet unlike their prior encounters, this time Sam hadn't tried to retaliate or do so much as raise a hand against him. He'd just taken whatever punishment Barnes dished out, set on defending himself through words alone.

Just like Steve had.

The sight of Sam's battered, bloodied face had awoken something deep within him. It reminded him of Steve's face on the helicarrier, looking up at him as his swollen lips offered only surrender, 'Then finish it. 'Cause I'm with you 'till the end of the line." Barnes didn't understand it then or now, but for some reason, the surreal moment prompted his mind to flash to a slender face with a bloodied nose and busted lip facing him across an alleyway.

Who was he?

Barnes refocused his attention on Sam, and his oddly pristine visage. For whatever reason, he'd known that Sam was more frail than Steve. That if he'd struck Sam as hard as he had Steve…

He frowned as he drank in Sam's present appearance. His eyes searched his dark skin to make sense of how he could be so gravely injured yesterday, but seemingly unblemished today. At first, he didn't see it, but when he looked closer, he could piece together little details he'd missed at first glance. They were hardly noticeable on Sam's hands or around his eyes and nose, but if Barnes cross-compared the deep wounds where the flesh of his face had been split open, he could just barely make out where it had been sewn back together by virtue of faint seam lines of hairless skin.

It was at once a relief to learn that he was recovering and to see it firsthand, but the sight had a way of stirring something uncomfortable deep inside of him. Was this what Teela had spoken of earlier? Regret, or something like it?

He lowered his head slightly as his eyes moved from the patchy lines through Sam's beard to the other man's expression. There was more he could make out now, though he wasn't sure why. He was sad. Hurting. His breath escaped in short, staccato puffs, like he was having difficulty managing the rhythm. The corners of his wet eyes reminded Barnes of Ayo's from the night before, and he found himself compelled to turn his head in her direction, as if doing so might offer some much-needed clarity.

When he looked over, he caught the side of her head as she silently regarded Sam. It took but a moment for her to become aware of his gaze, and she turned her head to face him. There was something poignant in her expression too. Sorrowful. Resolute. She didn't say a word, didn't move her hand from her spear, but her lips mouthed, "I'm here."

Up until now, Barnes had felt like he'd started to get a handle on the expressions of the people around him, but there was something heavier in the air now. Something important. Yet he was finding himself at a loss to understand the subtle intersection of what had happened to cause the sudden change in Sam's posture, expression, tone of voice, and what was wrong with his eyes. Barnes looked back at him, trying to make sense of it, but a buried part of him insisted that the act of someone crying was almost certainly an indication of–

Barnes kept his voice low as he asked Sam seriously, "...Are you in pain?"

In response, Sam cringed and bit his lip, looking down at the ground before he managed to briefly look up and reply, "Not in the way you're thinkin', no. A little sore around the edges, but I'll mend." His glossy eyes glanced down at the bandages wrapped around Barne's own foot, "I still can't believe you managed to get outta that. I guess I shouldn't be surprised but… Christ." Sam frowned, struggling to meet his eyes, "How 'bout you? Are you hurtin? We can get you something to help if you are."

Barnes already knew his answer, but he glanced briefly beyond Sam to Yama and the brightly-dressed woman standing just beside her. Shuri. Neither of them had moved, but he was well aware he was being watched from a distance like a lightning bug in a jar. For a moment, his mind wondered why the comparison had slipped so easily to mind. Had he ever seen a lightning bug? He pushed the thought aside. He wasn't sure for how much longer those around him would put on the charade that they were inclined to respect his preferences or consent, but in the meantime, he was certain he didn't want Shuri anywhere near him, "No. I don't want her touching me."

Sam made an uncomfortable face at that, but he didn't push the issue, "Okay then." He stayed silent a moment longer before running a finger along the inside corner of one eye and then drawing his hand out over his face, pulling his dark skin taut as he did. Barnes wasn't sure what the gesture meant, or if it was just a nervous tick resulting from his visible discomfort. It was difficult to diagnose the underlying cause. Did he have other wounds that were obscured like the one to Ayo's leg had been? Or was it more subtle, like the way Nomble's eyes didn't properly dilate after she'd suffered a concussion?

Both of those were also by his hands.

After a beat, Sam spoke up again, "It's hard as hell gettin' a read on what you're thinking or where to start. If you have questions though, I'll be straight with you and answer whatever I can."

Barnes sat in considerate silence, deliberating what he wanted to know most, because he didn't know how many more questions he would be permitted before the opportunity was taken away entirely. As the sun approached the horizon once more, he had the sinking feeling this was all due to come to an abrupt end soon.

At least he'd gotten to see a sunset and sunrise he could remember for the time being.

He focused on that, on hoping he might see one more sunset as he asked Sam, "What're they going to do with you?"

Sam cocked his head at that as if he was surprised by the question, "With me? The Wakandans, you mean?" His eyes lifted to Ayo before returning to Sam, "I'm here 'cause I want to be here, not because anyone's forcing me. But as far as what I'm planning to do? I…I haven't really thought that far ahead beyond what feels like the next ten seconds or so." Sam glanced back towards the ship he'd arrived in, "We brought over some sleeping bags and supplies to stay overnight. Nailah even managed to snag a change of clothes for you if you want some'n a little less, rough'n tumble."

The brief light of humor fell out of Sam's voice as he confessed, "I don't think any of us know what comes after tonight. But if you're asking if I'm planning to up and leave, the answer to that's no. It's clear I'm needed here." He kept his eyes on Barnes's own and saw fit to add, "I just…I know yesterday was something else, but I felt like we were starting to connect, or something like it. Then you had to go and make the sacrifice play, and I can't tell why you're giving me the silent treatment now. You can see I'm okay, and everyone here's been treating you good, right?"

Barnes didn't think he was giving anyone the 'silent treatment.' Sam just appeared to enjoy hearing himself talk. Like Yama. And Barnes was content to listen and deliberate. He didn't feel certain of much at all, but as best he could tell, he wasn't inclined to believe Sam was HYDRA. He was at once relieved at that conclusion, but he knew there were still too many unknowns to assume the same for the other people around him. He knew Ayo was a handler, that she knew the code words that could swiftly unmake him, and memories from his time asleep insisted Shuri'd tinkered with his mind on more than one occasion. Hadn't that been what she'd been doing when he'd awoken in that Wakandan laboratory?

But still… another part of him wanted to trust them, at least a little. Maybe "trust" wasn't the word, but he found some part of him he didn't understand was drawn to the possibility of connection. Another part of him was quick to reason it was a flaw. A malfunction. A false sense of security meant to manipulate him and pry information or usefulness out of him.

"He still listens, even when he chooses not to speak," Ayo observed from the far side of the divide between them, though her words were meant for Sam. "He and Yama sought to compete for who could be the most stubborn in their resolve."

At the mention of her name, Barnes watched as Yama tilted her head and raised an eyebrow, visibly deliberating on if she wished to pursue some manner of retort to her senior officer. Beside her, Shuri crossed her arms and she coolly observed, "I am certain you would not know anything about such tendencies, seeing as while you were in my lab, you did not see fit to divulge that your own injuries required more directed attention."

Barnes watched as Ayo turned around, conceivably to shoot Yama a glare of reprimand. The other warrior shrugged it off, utterly unfazed.

"It is convenient," Shuri added, "that I sought a second opinion about such matters so that I might come prepared with something to help mend the fracture to your patella and the surrounding tissue before it worsens." At that, Shuri pivoted on her heel and stepped back into the opening of the ship. While neither Ayo or Yama remarked on her choice of activities, Barnes was rather sure he saw Yama's eyes smile as she stood guard.

When Shuri re-emerged, she held a small palm-sized device between her hands which folded out into a hinged, crescent-shaped wand. Before Barnes even had the opportunity to try and deduce what purpose it served, Shuri lifted a finger in his direction, "This medical device aids in biological reconstruction and is not meant for you now. I intend only to see to Ayo's leg and repair her injury as best I can." Her attentive eyes met Barnes's own, "I can sense that the sight of me brings you discontent, so let me be clear that I will maintain the truce you have with the others and will not enter the dome without your permission. If you wish to have Yama continue to tend to your wounds, that is your prerogative. I will not force this treatment upon you, but its capabilities are much more extensive than what you have received thus far. More like the treatments Sam received in my care."

Barnes didn't say anything. He keyed into her movements, her posture, her breathing as he struggled to recall much of anything about her. Like Ayo, Yama, and Nomble, he came up mostly blank save for a fleeting memory of being in a lab where she'd systematically secured restraints around his ankles, waist, chest, and arms. She'd stood by as Ayo recited the words, but now he was evermore aware of the expressions she'd had as she watched from nearby. They weren't cruel. She didn't look at him merely as an experiment to be reviewed, tuned, and manipulated like so many other scientists had over the years. She was tense, nervous, but yet somehow also sorrowful all at once. When she made contact with his skin, it was almost gentle, as if each touch sought apology for what she felt compelled to do.

He wished he understood.

But in the present, Shuri strode boldly over to Ayo and took a seat behind and to the far side of her. Yama followed her over and stood guard as Shuri settled and made a face, "I am going to get dirt all over me, and it will not be Yama that is to blame." With impatient fingers, she gestured for Ayo to rotate herself so that she could better inspect her ailing leg.

Even Sam remained silent as the group of them watched Ayo begrudgingly submit to Shuri's request. With undoubted skill, the doctor smoothly removed the wrapping and placed it on her lap before using one of the beads along her wrist to open a small access panel in the leather-like brown fabric surrounding her knee.

"It is good to see you too, Princess Shuri," Ayo half-grumbled.

Shuri smirked lightly as she got to work, pulling up a floating holographic medical chart that offered a three-dimensional display of the injury to her leg, including a visibly fractured kneecap. "It is a relief the damage is not more extensive," she remarked, "I should be able to make suitable progress while we are here, but fine-tuning will need to be made back where I have more resources available to me."

Barnes did his best to follow along with her process. She didn't speak out loud about each step as Yama sometimes did, but it appeared that the crescent-shaped device she held in one hand had a way of stabilizing and mending the bone, even though it wasn't exposed at the surface. Strange.

A trail of orange light illuminated the sharp fracture lines in the overhead display, and a small section slowly blinked, signifying an indicator of where the underlying bone was filling in. Shuri kept her eyes focused on Ayo's leg. Her voice addressed no one in particular, but he got the distinct feeling that she was speaking to him, specifically, "I would like to offer some rhetorical questions. They do not require a response, but I wish for you to consider them all the same."

Barnes narrowed his eyes, but didn't otherwise acknowledge her statement.

"Much that I have seen tells me you still think there is a chance we are HYDRA. We are not, nor have we ever been, but it is difficult to prove such things to you when communication and trust between us is not fully formed. But it explains your actions. Your desire to get away at most any cost. And I find myself wondering: If you were at-once convinced we were not HYDRA, would you still wish to run?"

Barnes remained still, but he didn't miss the significant glance Sam gave him at the odd question. He knew he was under no obligation to answer, Shuri had said as much, but he found he… wasn't certain all the same.

He wanted out of the dome that acted as his prison, of course. But now that he knew Sam was safe… he wasn't entirely sure what his next step would be if and when he managed to escape. They knew the code words. What he was capable of. That he could be a weapon by his own will or in the wrong hands. Even if they weren't HYDRA, it wasn't safe to stay here. It was only a matter of time until someone tracked him down and pulled him back under into that life of immeasurable servitude.

"Whether you realize it or not," Shuri continued as she worked on Ayo's leg, "You are among friends and allies who do not wish ill of you, and who know more about the core of your true history than anyone alive. I realize there is no way to make you believe such an extensive claim, But that does not mean I will not try, for I think we are both searching for answers. For understanding."

She looked up long enough to gauge if he was listening, and when she was satisfied, she returned her attention to Ayo's leg and continued speaking, "One of the many areas HYDRA's barbaric practitioners focused on within your brain was meant to allow them fine control over accessing crucial data. They wanted to ensure that if you ever fell into the wrong hands, that what you knew could not be forced out of you. Likewise, they developed incredibly complex algorithms to suppress information without your knowledge. They wished for you to act as their pawn, as a repository of information, and to not question their methods or will. I believe that is why they spent so much time focused on your amygdala."

Shuri adjusted her grip on the medical wand and repositioned it over the outside of Ayo's ailing knee, "I have thought much about this, for I have spent a great deal of time trying to understand what was done to you so I could uncover their intentions. In doing so, I've hoped to piece together methods to heal your mind as I heal Ayo's leg now. But these recent events have made me wonder if you keep much to yourself because the well of your memories is mostly empty, and you cannot know what it was like when it was once full, or if you find that the well is not empty, but that you do not know how to measure the value to what remains. If that is the case, it would follow that it may be challenging for you to know how to proceed, because you have been taught that some information you know is supremely valuable to others, and might prove worthwhile to your enemies. And so if you believe us to be potential enemies, then you might be inclined to hold onto this information tightly, lest it fall into the wrong hands or be used against you or those you care for. But in doing so, you also avoid the opportunity to learn more about yourself."

Barnes frowned, observing her closely. He was disinclined to respond to any of her theories, but was not unaware that there were kernels of truth peppered within them, and he wasn't about to entrust her or anyone else to secrets that could not only unmake him or shape him into someone else, but potentially bring harm to others as well. That was why he had to figure this out on his own.

Ayo was the next to speak, but her eyes lifted to meet Barnes's own, "I think it is more than that. That regardless of what you think us to be, you will still seek to escape, to run for as long as you believe HYDRA is after you. As long as you believe their words have pull over you."

At that, Shuri's head quickly turned to regard first Ayo, and then Barnes. Shuri bit her lip, and as Barnes drank in her expression, he found the youthful face looking back at him to be oddly tentative, questioning. When Ayo moved her head to face Shuri, the two women regarded one another and Shuri nodded, but said nothing.

Sam watched her speak but said nothing. He appeared confused, concerned. Why was he concerned?

In that moment, Barnes was certain some form of communication had occurred between them, but he did not know what it meant, only that when Ayo faced him again, there was a new resolve in her eyes. "I will not have lies or misdirects between us. Only truths. I do not wish to see you act compliant to what you perceive as our will when no such demands exist. Many of us have spoken that you once came here for aid so that we might help you. It is true. It took time, will, and resources, but with great care and remarkable difficulty, the Winter Soldier programming was removed from you like a rotten fur."

Barnes growled back before he even had time to consider his words, "You're lying."

"I am not," Ayo countered, "It was a difficult process, but the words no longer maintain a hold over you. They have not for many years."

At that ludicrous claim, Barnes snarled and scrambled to his feet, bearing down on her where she sat on the ground in front of him. He wasn't in the mood for any of these games of theirs, and he wasn't about to willingly walk into another one of their poisoned traps, "You're just manipulating me."

Ayo shook her head, and for whatever reason, even Sam saw fit to speak up on their behalf, to fold his words into their feast of lies, "She's not. I know it might sound like hogwash from where you're standing, but they're telling you the honest-to-god truth, Barnes."

"We remain at an impasse," Shuri observed, frowning from where she sat on the grass.

Ayo set her jaw as she looked up at Barnes and then pulled herself up to her feet. She planted her spear next to her and faced him head on as her resolute voice concluded aloud, "No. We do not."

---

Ayo lifted her chin and faced Barnes from where he glowered at her from the opposite side of the artificial boundary. Orange light bounced off the whites of his eyes, casting them in a fearsome glow. They radiated with seething anger he directed squarely at her.

Barnes was clearly agitated and overwhelmed, and it pained her to know the best way forward risked upsetting the fragile truce and what little understanding they'd managed to cultivate between them. Her Dora must've sensed it too, because before Ayo could speak another word, both Yama and Nomble stepped closer, taking up position on either side of her in a warrior's flank. Sam and Shuri abruptly got to their feet moments later, and though Shuri said nothing, she offered Ayo a wordless question with her eyes that Ayo could read as clearly as if it were written in ink.

"Are you sure about this?"

Ayo nodded once, adjusting the grip on her spear, taking strength from the feel of the cool, familiar metal in her hand. This was what was required to move forward with purpose. What was necessary.

Shuri held her medical device in one hand but offered no resistance or further questions. She chose to place trust in Ayo's decision and supported the unseen path she intended to walk. Wordlessly, her charge motioned for Sam to step back with her so they could take up position behind the three Dora Milaje. Sam offered no objections, but Ayo could see the concern rise in his eyes as well.

She steadied herself as she regarded Barnes, well-aware that he wasn't yet following what she intended to do. "Others who once called themselves scientists were unspeakably cruel to you," Ayo began, "The nails and horrors they brought upon you took place long before we ever met. Shortly after you first arrived in Wakanda, we removed those physical manifestations of their barbarous will. I know you question if what I say is true, because you know as well as any that records can be doctored, but I believe you know the secrets of your own body in ways I cannot."

At that, Ayo waited and watched as Barnes's right hand rose to his scalp, no doubt feeling for reassurance that the nails that once plagued him were no longer pressed into his flesh. His eyes were hard, but Ayo met them without fear.

"I and others have told you that you have suffered no wipes at our hands while you were here in Wakanda. That we have no such machines, and wouldn't use them even if we did. I have no way of proving this to you, because I cannot prove the absence of something that never existed in the first place, but I can tell you that in time we discovered that those same nails were leveraged by HYDRA to drive electricity into certain portions of your brain with supreme intention. These horrendously painful methods were used in order to manifest the wipes of self you repeatedly experienced. I do not know if you remember them."

Ayo hadn't expected a response, but Barnes managed to snarl out a simple, "I remember," with more ferocity than she would have expected him capable of. In that moment, it was hard to see their White Wolf in his eyes, because she saw only the Soldier's impassioned focus ebbing with rage, maybe not for her, but rage all the same.

"If you remember, then you may know that the absence of the nails supports our claim that you suffered no wipes while under our care."

"I never asked for your help," Barnes challenged.

"You did," Ayo's firm voice insisted, "as recently as yesterday afternoon, even though you do not remember it. But I do not fault you for the lapses in memory you experience. They are the result of the damage HYDRA repeatedly caused to your mind over the course of many years." Her voice shifted to be ever-more personal as she added, "Even now, I only desire to help, but I know that as long as you believe otherwise, you will be wary, and the gap hanging between us will not get us closer to embracing the truth of your situation."

Barnes's voice was low, and layered with a renewed threat that freshly reminded Ayo of the man that had stared her down when she'd first arrived, "I don't need any of your 'truths.'"

It was difficult to bear those hard blue eyes bearing into her own, but she knew in her heart that she must push on. "I have sworn oaths to you multiple times. That I would help you however I could, even when the path was fraught with trials. That is why I want to be clear where we now stand, you and I."

"When you first came to us, we did not know the code words that were forced into your mind by HYDRA, whose cruel snares thrust you into a life of servitude and compliance. You told Shuri and I that upon hearing them, the words themselves fell away so that you did not even so much as remember the language they were spoken in. Only their pressure upon you. But in order to make you whole and free from their grip, we needed to learn what they were. What each did to you and your mind. It took many months until Shuri discovered the first of them, and it would take many, many more until we pulled the last from you. But in between, it was necessary to have someone speak the words to you."

Ayo couldn't see Shuri or Sam behind her, but as Yama and Nomble stood to either side and a half-step in front of her, she could see realization dawn in Nomble's expression on what Ayo planned to do. Her Lieutenant did not speak, but Ayo saw the concern rise in her eyes as clear as a cloudless night's sky.

"I do not know if you remember this agreement," Ayo continued speaking to Barnes, "but the man with your face once entrusted this solemn responsibility to me. I promised him I would not let him hurt anyone, or allow him to act against his will or best interests. To this day, I did not misuse or share this knowledge."

"Why are you telling me this?" Barnes spat through clenched teeth. Everything about his body language was rigid. Not simply wary, but aggressive, like a rubberband ready to snap.

As difficult as it was to see him like this, it only strengthened Ayo's resolve. "Even here, in this place, we have spoken often of consent. It is why I wish to be clear about what I intend to do and why I intend to do it, as the final step will be with your permission, or not at all. But I will take the first steps regardless, because it is my belief that through that act, only you can know the truth in my claim."

Ayo stayed focused on him, and him alone, "And my claim is this: There is a sequence of ten terms that are now benign in your mind, but HYDRA once used them in sequence to make you compliant to their demands. They no longer hold power over you, and have not for many years. I will speak the first nine of them to you, but I will not speak the tenth and final one without your consent."

"No," Barnes's voice was low and gravelly. The single word pierced through the air like an arrow striking her in the chest. For years, they'd spoken of consent, and here she was, breaking off a piece of it and holding it out to him. He couldn't understand, but as his wild eyes seared into her own, she felt the heat in them.

She stood firm, "The first nine terms are not up for debate. Through them you will be able to tell that their pull over you has been extinguished. But I know of no other way to prove to you that what I say is true. And if you wish me to stop at nine words, I will, without question. But if I do," she kept her eyes focused on his as she tried to break through to him, to have him see what she sought to accomplish, "You may spend the rest of your life running, living in fear, afraid of the possibility of connection because you worry that others might wrest control over you if they only knew the words that plagued your mind. All I am offering you is the opportunity to know for yourself if what I say is true. And that is the choice you must make for the final word, for I will not speak it without your consent."

"You said it was wrong the first time," Barnes countered, seething, "You promised you wouldn't try again. You lied."

The rawness of his accusation and the look of betrayal plain across his tense features cut into the heart of her, "When I spoke those words back in the lab, it was in the heat of the moment, with instinct, not logic. I believed you to be someone else, and I worried for the lives of those I was tasked to protect. I speak these nine terms now out of compassion for you, Barnes. Because even if it makes you cross with me, even if it makes you hate me for my actions, it is right for you to have the opportunity to know the freedom you truly possess so that you might guide your own future."

Ayo had seen those blue eyes looking back at her on more occasions than she could begin to recount, but the utter hostility in them now was painful to witness, especially knowing it was not the Soldier glaring back at her, but someone she had promised to do right by. Barnes. It was also why she knew she had to proceed, even if it cost them what shambles of a relationship they had.

Even if she never saw another glimmer of their White Wolf, she could not allow Barnes to live out his life in fear at the mercy of decaying shadows.

She collected herself, allowing her mind's eye to recollect the time they'd spent at this very location working to undo the countless layers of horrors that had drowned his mind for so long. Even after their poisoned pull had been quelled, the weight of their marks upon him took many months longer to come to terms with, to accept that healing was not simply a destination, but an ongoing process. Ayo reminded herself of this as she grounded her thoughts in the present.

"Ayo…?" Sam's voice came from behind her, and as she turned her head to face Sam, and Shuri behind him, Ayo heard a crash as something struck the shield.

Her head flicked back around as she caught Barnes's left fist striking the shield a second time, sending a cascade of sparks back towards him as well as a burst of orange light blazing across the energy boundary between them.

By the time Ayo could process the renewed threat staring her down, Yama and Nomble had already raised their spears, reflexively pointing them at Barnes's torso. Though Ayo trusted the strength and ingenuity of the shield, she knew there could be no lasting peace between them so long as Barnes believed they could be HYDRA. That others lurking in the shadows might control him with a single word.

"LIAR!" Barnes lashed out at her with wild eyes.

Ayo stood firm where she was. She kept her head held high and her spear beside her as she faced him with unwavering conviction. When she was ready, her hoarse voice formed the first of many words she had hoped to never have to speak aloud again.

"Желание," the Russian syllables felt like poison on her tongue.

Longing.

---

Barnes heard the word, and with it, the crisp, unspeakable familiarity of the countless voices who had uttered it over the years, Ayo included. It was a countdown sequence, one that if completed, would wrest control from him. "STOP!" he demanded.

His mind frantically searched out memories that might aid him, latching onto what little it could. Memories of being restrained in chairs and atop tables as others recited the words. Sometimes he fought back, other times not at all. But a part of him was confused at why the syllables stuck with him now, why he could remember the words in the sequence at all.

When had that changed?

He quickly shook off the thought. It didn't matter. All he knew was that each time he could recall someone repeating the sequence, it worked without fail, triggering something in the depths of his mind that pushed down his free will, twisting it into something he didn't wholly understand. In that moment, he didn't see Ayo, he only saw another handler working to systematically strip his freedom away from him. But unlike so many other times, he knew where it was leading.

He took a step towards the shield wall, closing the distance between them. On the far side of the barrier, Ayo stood facing him with the butt of her spear planted firmly in the soil beside her. Yama and Nomble stood on either side of their Chief with the tips of their spears brandished threateningly in his direction. They stood firm, but their eyes were not cruel. Their strained faces were cast in concern, but also unwavering resolve. How could they let this happen? They had made claims, grand gestures of allyship, only to stand idly by and watch as Ayo unmade him piece by piece, like a vulture stripping meat from a corpse.

Barnes snarled, lunging at the shield with almost feral ferocity, hoping for some sort of leverage or way to break through, but he found no handholds in his personal prison. As his fist struck the boundary closest to her face, Ayo flinched, but did not hesitate before she recited the next venomous word, "Ржавый." Rusted.

The pull of the second word reverberated deep within him as it called for his attention and left only terror in its wake. Barnes's wild eyes darted between Yama and Nomble, pleading for understanding on how they could so quickly forsake him and refuse to intervene on his behalf, "Why? You said you'd help. I did what you asked! I'll do whatever you want, just stop!" His voice cracked as he repeated, "Stop…"

Their eyes were flush with emotion and Yama's lip trembled as Ayo spoke the next word, "Семнадцать." Seventeen.

He snarled, lunging towards his handler and twisting his body so he could slam his shoulder into the barrier with a bright cascade of orange sparks. His foot exploded in pain as he tried to leverage his legs to force his way through the wall of energy to no avail. "останавливаться! Я знаю, что ты делаешь!" Stop! I know what you're doing! He yelled accusingly at Ayo before turning his attention to Nomble. Barnes met her troubled eyes as his voice broke and he pleaded with her in the language she called Sindarin. The one she insisted was in some way like a private code between the two of them, "You spoke of fellowship, and now you choose to stand idly by and watch. Were they all just empty words to you?"

Nomble kept her feet planted and her spear raised as her emotive, apologetic brown eyes met his. They briefly flickered in Ayo's direction, as if some part of her questioned her resolve.

"Рассвет," Ayo's voice declared. Daybreak.

He tensed reflexively as some deep, buried part of him recognized the underlying implication of the word and where they were leading him. What were they planning to do with him? What experiments and missions would he be forced to endure? How quickly would he be made to forget? If their claim about the nails was true, all they need do was to put them back in place again and–

He felt as if he was choking on the air itself as he forced his eyes back on Ayo's, hoping there was some way to stop her. He didn't pretend he understood the nuance of emotions. They'd always been forbidden and showing any hint of them meant that he would be subject to swift reprimand and enrichment, but now he felt as if all of them were boiling over inside of him, even ones he couldn't identify. When he'd last had the words recited to him, he'd submitted himself, acquiesced his life over to Alexander Pierce without truly grasping the far-reaching implications of what was being done to him. Now? Now he understood, and that made the helplessness of the act all the more terrifying, because it would eventually led to him losing everything he'd worked so hard to regain.

It was all he had. It wasn't much, but it was him.

"Печь," Ayo's voice reverberated through him. Furnace. He heard the word, but his mind was scrambling for anything he could do to stop her.

He felt like an animal trapped in a cage as he repeatedly slammed his fist against the shield in a feeble attempt to break through. "Akwaba ndandikubulele xa ndifumene ithuba!" I wish I'd killed you when I had the chance! His voice was full of venom and pent up rage that boiled over into something primal and utterly unrecognizable.

For a moment, Ayo actually stopped speaking, but she set her jaw and raised her head in his direction. Her eyes were at once pained as she forced out the next hoarse word that bid to control him, "Девять." Nine.

Barnes took a step to the side, putting weight on his injured foot so he could see past Ayo to where Sam stood a few feet behind her. He'd taken up position in front of Shuri, but his posture wasn't a rigid guard-stance. It was attentive but uncomfortable, as if he wasn't quite sure what was going on or his place in what was happening. Barnes's mind frantically searched for any memories or glimpses he could think of that included Sam and the countdown sequence, but he came up blank. When their eyes connected, Barnes found his voice lowering as he begged for Sam's help without even knowing why, "Sam, please... stop… please…"

Sam's face contorted, and Barnes watched as he started to open his mouth, only to slowly close it again when Shuri's outstretched hand came to rest on his padded shoulder. The Wakandan Princess said nothing, but she shook her head apologetically when Sam looked back her way, as if she was instructing him not to intervene.

The sight of the exchange twisted something in Barnes. The feeling of betrayal and utter disregard pierced his gut, and he raised his voice as he pleaded for understanding, "Why? I saved you. I saved you!"

Sam's wet brown eyes were pained. Why were they pained? Was this revenge for what Barnes had done to him?

"Добросердечный." Benign. His once and future handler continued in her rough voice.

Barnes slammed first one fist and then the other against the shield and held them there as the electric energy crackled and reverberated throughout his body. The longer he held them there, what started as cautionary discomfort transitioned into searing pain. His lungs burned and he struggled to simply remember to breathe. It was as if his blurred eyes fought against his efforts to focus them as he bellowed hoarsely at all of them at once, "Why?!"

"Возвращение на родину." Homecoming.

Unlike the last time he'd heard the words, this time they didn't pass through his ears only to fade away, leaving him with a strange calmness that called for his attention. He couldn't understand it, but some part of him was aware something was different. He still felt the snare of the syllables, but it wasn't with the same pointed depth that he remembered. It was as if they were somehow absent of demand.

What did it mean?

His eyes flashed back as Ayo's firm voice offered the ninth, but not final word, "Один." One.

Barne's chest heaved and his breath hitched as he waited for the last lingering word to drip from her poisoned lips and finally unmake him…

…But no words followed.

A suffocating weight permeated the silence that surrounded him. The uncomfortable lack of finality hung around him like a noose, teasing him with the inevitable reality he found himself in.

His eyes flicked up to Sam's as if pleading for understanding, even guidance, but Sam mouthed only, "It's okay. You're gonna be okay."

Barnes's ungrounded mind tumbled and churned, and he found himself drawn to focus on the pain that continued to radiate through his hand and shoulder where his curled fists pressed unwaveringly against the energy dome. It was as if the pain was somehow a reminder that he was still alive, still breathing, still himself. Whatever that meant. He didn't know why she didn't just say the last word. Was this some new type of torture? To see how long he could linger in limbo? Or until he begged for someone to finally finish the job?

He didn't know when, but somewhere amid the darkness of his fatalistic thoughts, he must've closed his eyes as he braced for the inevitable, when out of nowhere, a flash of light and audible sizzle of energy called for his attention.

Barnes opened his eyes to see something he didn't understand. In front of him, Ayo had stepped forward to press her open palm onto the crest of the shield opposite where his nearest fist was on the inside of the barrier between them. Her slender hand may have been darker skinned than his was, but in that moment, it was as if he saw more similarities than differences between their beaded wrists. She said nothing, but her steady presence focused on him, and him alone.

She regarded him with an oddly sympathetic and unhurried expression, and when she briefly glanced to either side of her, some manner of unspoken conversation must have occurred between the women closest them, because both Yama and Nomble lowered their spears to their sides and stepped closer so they could place their left hands to either side of Ayo's own.

At first, Barnes thought to try and attach language to the strange gesture, but the longer he stood there, the more his weary mind thought to wrap it in symbolism rather than words.

It reminded him of the stories Nomble told him how the young viking, Hiccup, once extended his hand in the hope of earning the trust of the great black dragon he called 'Toothless.'

No one spoke, not even Sam and Shuri behind them, but instead they stood in shared silence while Barnes listened to his breath wheeze in and out in heavy bursts. He kept his hands balled into fists, but the tension and urgency slowly drained out of them, and with it, subtle awareness of the outside world slipped back into focus. The crackle of the nearby fires. The comfort of familiar birdsongs and the rustle of leaves. The smell of earth, charred wood, and mountain sage. The sight of a warm, fading sunset giving way to a cast of bright stars overhead.

Stars he knew the names of. Their history. Their stories. Their meaning.

The world surrounding him wasn't just a half-formed backdrop anymore, and neither were the concerned faces looking back at him. The expressions he saw weren't vile or teasing. They were people with their own histories and unique personalities. People who didn't view him merely as an object to be used. There was more there. A connection he didn't understand, but that some part of him so desperately wanted to.

He looked back to Ayo, remembering in detail what she'd said, even though he didn't believe it. Couldn't believe it. "All I am offering you is the opportunity to know for yourself if what I say is true. And that is the choice you must make for the final word. For I will not speak it without your consent… Because even if it makes you cross with me, even if it makes you hate me for my actions, it is right for you to have the opportunity to know the freedom you truly possess so that you might guide your own future."

The question in her eyes lingered in the air between them, but as he regarded her, he found his mind returning to when she'd sworn an oath to him over the fire the night before using only the fingers of her hands. Yet that recent event was shrouded in a memory he'd dreamed, one that reflected another oath she'd once made to him, or someone like him. That man had been willing to surrender everything he had, everything he was, and place it in someone else's hands.

He couldn't call it trust, because he didn't know what that truly was, or what that felt like, but as he regarded her, he saw the unwavering conviction and question in her eyes that he recognized from his dream, 'Is it too much? I will stop if it is too much.'

Emotions he couldn't begin to catalogue gathered at the corners of his eyes. All that he so desperately wanted was for this charade to stop, to retain all he was, all he had.

Yet another part of him wondered…

…What if she was right? What if, like the nails that were no longer embedded in his skull, the impact of the code words had somehow been separated from him as well?

He unfurled his fists so the fingers and palm of one hand slid open against the shield while the other traveled to his scalp, reassuring himself for not the first time that those piercing horrors HYDRA's scientists had repeatedly subjected him to were now gone and inexplicably healed-over.

If she was right, what would it mean?

His mind was deadlocked in terror and confusion at what it might mean if Ayo spoke the remainder of the sequence.

What would happen if control was wrested from him once again?

What if he discovered that the words no longer had pull over him?

As his eyes met hers, Ayo tucked her spear into the crook of her right elbow so she could use her hands to silently sign, and spell out his name, "Our hearts are with you, Barnes."

He shifted his jaw as he regarded the emotive faces surrounding him. Somewhere along the way, both Sam and Shuri had raised their left hands in imitation of the three Dora Milaje in front of them, but neither their poses nor their expressions were mocking or insincere. Like Ayo, Yama, and Nomble, they faced Barnes with steadfast gazes that sought out connection, but did not demand it of him.

Was it better to keep running, not knowing if Ayo's claims were true? Or was it possible to find out here and now if some other, better future awaited him? A future he could hardly imagine, but desperately craved all the same.

Barnes regarded the open hands on the other side of the barrier, and once he finally caught his breath, he found the strength of resolve to nod, signing the letters "O-K" with his right hand before placing it opposite Ayo's own. He bid her to continue the sequence and with it, he braced for whatever fate awaited him. At least regardless of the outcome, it was by his own will.

And he'd gotten to see two sunsets.

Ayo inclined her head, but did not move her left hand from where it hovered across from Barnes's outstretched hand. When she replaced her right hand along the shaft of her spear, Yama and Nomble returned to attention beside their own spears, but their spears remained upright and at attention.

Only then did Ayo speak, her voice crisp with emotion, and with unwavering strength and immense resolve that reshaped the syllables into not a command, but a promise, "Товарный вагон."

Freightcar.

Barnes felt the words collect in his mind and grip it tightly, but a moment later, it was as if the pressure dissipated, leaving him somehow more whole than he'd been only a moment before, than he'd been in more years than he could scarcely remember.

It felt as though the suffocating weight of some fractured, unspoken corners of his mind were at once permitted to fall away into dust.

His confused and bloodshot blue eyes looked up to Ayo as she whispered softly, "You are free."

Barnes was only passingly aware that his legs collapsed under him as he tried to process the wide-reaching implications of what had just happened. He wasn't even sure what his body was doing when he gripped his arms tightly around him legs in a feeble attempt to ground himself, but he didn't miss when Ayo and the others came forward and lowered themselves to the grass, sharing the silence with him as her steadfast, rhythmic voice quietly repeated words that resonated through every part of him at once. Words he could scarcely believe he'd ever hear:

"You are free."

This changed everything.

Everything.

He was free.

---

I had a wonderful time working with Haflacky (Haflacky on Twitter) on an incredible piece of art she created to accompany this chapter. Please check out this chapter on Archive of Our Own to see the art and link to her social media pages see more of her incredible art!

Simply search for: "KLeCrone Ao3 Winter of the White Wolf"

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[Chapter Art, featuring Sam, Ayo, Yama, Nomble, and Barnes by Haflacky]

This scene and story beat was one that existed even in my earliest outlines for this story last April, and it feels wonderful to finally build to this poignant moment. I also want to give a major shout-out to Haflacky because I believe I originally discussed this scene with her in July of 2021, and she had the art completed in August 2021, and has been incredibly patient holding off on sharing (as well as modifying!) the final piece so as to not ruin the "surprise" of this scene.

Fun facts:

- At the time we first discussed the piece, the story hadn't even gotten to the point where "Barnes" emerged, so this scene would have been a major spoiler! And along the way, it's felt immensely gratifying to be able to return to the art and then use that to reflexively inspire bits and pieces of the story itself.

- In the earliest drafts, I was uncertain how much time would have passed since the initial "escape" and now, and whether or not Shuri would be present, in the ship, or watching from afar. Haflacky was kind enough to create an edited version of this piece which showed it was both closer to sunset, as well as that his foot was still injured, as the more that I considered this scene, the more apparent it was to me that he wouldn't just stuff his foot back in a maimed boot.

I can't thank the artists that have contributed to this project enough for helping bring the world and characters of "Winter of the White Wolf" to life, and for all my wonderful readers for continuing to keep me motivated over these many months. Truly: Thank you, each and every one of you. You've made *such* a difference.

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Author's Remarks:

Thank you for all the kind words while I've been busy dealing with the fallout from some major household plumbing issues. It means a lot to have such incredible support and understanding. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It's been one I've been especially excited to write since I first started outlining this story so many months ago. This feels like a culmination of a lot of different character threads and relationships, and I hope it was as gratifying for you to read as it was for me to write!

- Sam and Shuri - It can't be easy for Shuri to let Sam take the reins on a lot of the initial conversations with Barnes, but I love the idea of the two of them trying to support one another and sort out how to proceed and give them the best chance of success.

- Sam and Barnes - The sections with Sam and Barnes here included pieces I'd outlined since last April, and I can't tell you how gratifying it was to finally get to this point in the story. In particular, I think it was important for Sam to come to the realization that he'd had some missteps along the way as well, including some of his advice for how Bucky should "make amends." I love that throughout all this, even after all Sam's been through, he's not willing to give up on Barnes.

- Ayo, Barnes, and the Dora - This is another scene that has been planned for as long as I can remember for this story. We've seen the code words spoken and result in utter compliance, and thanks to "The Falcon and the Winter Soldier," we've seen them spoken to relief. In this case, I gravitated to the idea that Ayo knows there will never be a time soon-in-coming where Barnes will WANT her or anyone else to utter the words, and so she insists on saying the first nine in the hopes he can begin to realize things aren't as they seem. His willingness to look to those around him for support and push forward so he could know the truth is, I hope, a powerful scene that wouldn't have been possible without those supporting him, and the seeds of trust each of them watered and nourished along the way.

The revelations here are due to have a sizable impact on the story ahead, and I can't wait to share it with you!

In any case, thank you once again for all the questions, comments, kudos, and just… joining me on this journey. I can't begin to tell you how immensely satisfying it is to spend easily 30-50 hours laboring in isolation over each chapter only to find myself greeted with so much enthusiasm and support once I share them. Just: Thank you!

Written to the album "Nuit," by Tony Anderson and the song "Forgotten" by Lorne Balfe, off the "13 Hours: The Secret Soldiers of Benghazi" Soundtrack.