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.

55. Ashes to Asterisms

I had the pleasure of working with Alilyushka (Alilyushka on Twitter) on an illustration she created for this chapter, as well as a little something of my own. 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 55 - Ashes to Asterisms

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The aftermath left in the wake of Ayo speaking the final code word aloud wasn't explicitly devastation, but it was a far-cry from what anyone could generously consider a 'celebratory' ambiance out on that sunset-lit mountaintop of theirs.

To be fair: Sam hadn't a clue what he expected after everyone'd gone quiet again. The fact of the matter was that he hadn't seen a possibility of any of that comin' even minutes earlier, that was for sure. Far as he knew, he and Shuri were scheduled for a Wakandan-style campout where they were due to spend the evening trying to break bread with Barnes, and with any luck, start to connect with him like Yama, Nomble, and Ayo had apparently managed. Sam'd accepted it would probably take time, but he was willin' to be be patient.

But this….?

Sam was still trying to process this. He couldn't help searching Barnes's face for signs, trying to suss out if Ayo's very particular take on 'tough love' had produced the desired effect.

By Sam's best guess, the message had gotten through, but it'd been at least another ten or fifteen minutes since Ayo had repeated "You are free," and Barnes hadn't so much as breathed a word edgewise. He'd just sat on the ground with his knees pulled close against his body, and his arms clenched tightly around them, as if it was taking all of his dwindling reserves to remain upright at all.

Barnes remained nearly motionless. His unfocused eyes were cast down into the dirt, betraying the somber reality that his thoughts were anywhere but the present. That being as it was, Sam would have been hard-pressed to deny that the man's defeated pose offered more than a passing similarity to the one he'd taken-up on the floor of Shuri's lab following his confessions about Madripoor, after which he'd allowed Ayo to reclaim his vibranium arm. While the memory of that cup of awful was remarkably fresh, Sam had to admit that it felt like it'd been at least a week since he'd had an up-close view watching Bucky collapse and shatter at Ayo's feet.

But that was where the comparisons ended.

Watching Bucky languish on the ground in the lab as he drank in the full realization of just how grievously he'd wounded the Wakandans was heartbreaking for any number of reasons, up to and including that it seemed as if there was a damn good chance the two of them were due be herded up and walked out like yesterday's garbage, never to return. In that moment, it'd been near-impossible to imagine any reconciliation might've even been possible, which, looking back, was probably part of why Buck was hurtin' about it so much. None of those emotions he was suffering through were for show. He wasn't mourning thearm itself, but what it represented to him, and the intersection of genuine relationships that were involuntary casualties of his decisions.

Sam'd known Bucky'd been to Wakanda some years back, but on account of how close-lipped he'd been about his time there, Sam had filled in the blanks with what little he had, and up until that point when Bucky keeled over on Shuri's floor, he hadn't really considered any of them had been close. But you only needed to look at how much he was suffering to realize there was a lot more going on under the surface. 'Prolly a lot more than Buck even realized at that moment. They were complex, nuanced relationships that Sam didn't have much of a clue about at the time, but that he now saw plain-as-day on the unwavering faces of those assembled around him.

Even Barnes.

This out here was different. Not just on account of the rustic setting or horrifically intense, and bloody events of the last day and change, but because this time around, Ayo's words were meant to offer not only clarity, but pointed truth. Powerful knowledge that he no longer had to suffer under the assumption the code words were still active, and moreover: that he was now free to figure out how to live away from under their oppressive burden.

Though the man on the ground wouldn't meet Sam's eyes, he could tell Barnes wasn't weeping. He wasn't hopeless or broken. As far as Sam could tell, he wasn't spiraling either. But it was difficult to put a finger on what he was feeling, beyond utterly bedraggled and overwhelmed.

His sharp features were pressed together tightly, like he was doin' what he could to hold everything in. The fading light from the red-rimmed sunset caused long shadows to fall over him, giving his pale, sweat-addled skin a sickly glow. His bloodshot eyes remained unfocused and his lips twitched, not like they were trying to form words, but as if they couldn't quite settle. While his breathing had normalized, it was obvious his efforts to break out of the orange energy shield had taken a quite toll on him physically. Sweat matted his short-cropped brown hair and dripped down his face, sullying his shirt and that blue, black, and gold shawl T'Challa had given him with an additional assortment of dark sweat stains. Now it wasn't as if Sam hadn't seen Bucky perspire before, it certainly happened, but it was a rare thing to see this particular super soldier push himself to the point it showed up in any measurable amount. Seeing anyone else sweating bullets like this would've indicated they'd put themselves through one hell of a summer cardio session. But this guy here? It was a telltale sign that he'd been willing to push his limits to try and break out of his prison at all costs.

And that hadn't been for show. Not at all.

The knuckles and lower edge of Barnes's right hand were deep purple, as if he'd might've managed to break or dislocate something during his desperate attempts to escape. His Wakandan-outfitted left hand was intact, but Sam didn't miss that the wrist and fingers of it spasmed now and then, as if extended contact with the shield had upset the delicate electronics nestled inside.

Seein' 'em twitch like that had a way of sending Sam's brain straight back to that warehouse fight with Walker over the shield, and the moment that serumed-up, Cracker Jack toy had tossed Buck spine-first into an electrical support that had knocked him out cold, and played hell on his hand for hours after.

The weight of the shield and memories riding on Sam's back felt heavier than usual as his medical training kicked in and took the reins, keying into the mess in front of him that was Barnes's foot. Sam didn't remember seeing him kick the shield, but for all he knew? It might've happened at some point. Could have been that Barnes had tried to use it to brace himself as he struggled to break through and stop Ayo. Either way, that bandaged foot of his that had been immaculate when they'd landed was clearly torn open and rapidly soaking through from the inside out.

It was difficult to tell if Barnes was even aware of the present state of his extremities, because his unfocused eyes remained cast down between his knees, as if he was simply too overwhelmed to process the sight of anything more just yet.

The shared breather in the aftermath of, well, that, wasn't necessarily a bad thing as far as Sam was concerned, but it also gave him an awful lot of time with his own thoughts. He was rapidly discovering that a lot of them weren't the comfortable sort to sit with.

On one hand, it was undeniably a good thing that Barnes had prompted Ayo to finish off the sequence so he could take some time to drink in the revelation that his mind was free of outside control, but Sam was betting that bit came with a heavy heaping of painful realizations, the sort he was presently keeping to himself. Sam didn't have a clue what exactly Barnes was reflecting on, if it was a mix of horror over what HYDRA had put him through, relief that the people around him really had been trying to help him, or fear for an uncertain future ahead of him. Whatever it was, it didn't feel right to rush him through whatever he was feeling just so he could be peppered with more well-meaning questions from the peanut gallery seated nearby.

Those questions could wait.

So that left Sam to pour over his own feelings about what'd happened, and to acknowledge that little voice inside that'd always wondered about things since the very first time Steve'd said that cyborg assassin from the highway, the one that clearly didn't recognize Steve, was actually his childhood best friend. You know, the one that'd been presumed dead for the better part of seventy years? The one explicitly mentioned in the Smithsonian write-ups and newsreels he remembered seeing back when he was just a kid being dragged around on a tour of the nation's capitol for the first time?

That guy.

But you hear things like that, the impossibility of it all, and you have questions. Specifically, about Bucky's time with HYDRA. But those weren't the sort of questions you ever broached out loud. You just buried deep away where they could never see the light of day, because when you grow up, you learn that being curious about something doesn't give you the right to tear open old wounds just 'cause you have a hankering to know how they managed to take a soldier that could'a been anyone and mold him into something, someone so unrecognizable that they couldn't even recognize themselves or one of their best friends.

You didn't ask about topics like that. Not in polite company. Not even in private.

You just didn't.

Another question you didn't ask, was about the code words.

He and Steve had privately discussed the matter of brainwashing, certainly, even gone over some of the bits and pieces covered in that KGB file Nat'd managed to scrounge up, but the specifics certainly weren't there. It wasn't like that file was an instruction manual or anything close. It was more like a highlight reel of the worst possible sort.

After Steve recovered from the injuries he sustained courtesy of the Winter Soldier and Project Insight, he got right back to his Avenging, tasking Sam on a mission of his own. Sam ended up spending the better part of two years globe-trotting on his 'missing persons' case, and playing cat-and-mouse with someone who very clearly did not want to be found. He couldn't understand why at the time, but now and again he felt like he'd gotten close to at least catching sight of his ghost firsthand, only to be left in the dust time and again.

Sam knew he wasn't a top-tier detective by any means, but when you chase someone for that long, you start to get a bit of a feel for them. About who they are, and what they're after. And this guy? This guy just wanted to be left alone. Even though he clearly knew he was being tracked, he didn't set up lethal booby-traps or try to take Sam out. The most he did was leave the occasional enigmatic note.

Notes asking him to leave him alone.

Redwing managed to get eyes on him a time or two, and just as quickly had been taken out of the air by a well-placed projectile. But not destroyed, disabled. In hindsight, it was wildly surreal to try and imagine that same assassin from the highway, the one that'd yanked his steering wheel straight outta his windshield, taking great care to duct-tape Redwing's rudders down after he'd hit the ground. Not only that, the man moved the helpless drone out of the way of where anyone else might've taken him for scrap, as if he was aware Sam'd want him back.

…Now that he was thinking about it, the fact that that guy usually left Redwing out on rooftops, it tracked that for some bizarre reason, he possibly even wanted to help ensure Sam was able to retrieve Redwing, too…? At the time, Sam hadn't credited it to convenience, but after seeing how easily Barnes had taken out that drone outside the Design Center, he wasn't so sure anymore.

…So yeah, maybe somewhere along the way, Sam'd been trying to do right by Steve to track down his old friend, but maybe he hadn't been doin' everything he could to drag him in against his will.

By the time they'd managed to locate the Soldier, Barnes, whoever that was out of the flat he'd managed to carve out for himself in Bucharest, maybe Sam felt a little guilty, but not a drop of surprise that he seemed like he wanted to run rather than fight. Hell, when they'd finally caught up with him, he'd outright surrendered right along with him, Steve, and T'Challa.

Was it right to call him 'Barnes' at that point? Or was that more 'Bucky?' Sam wasn't sure. But 'Barnes' sat better with him than any other option he had at the moment. It wasn't remotely difficult to imagine playing cat-and-mouse with the man that'd taken him on that magic carpet ride from hell the other day. Who knew? Maybe he even remembered some of that from way back when Sam was trackin' him.

That being as it was, Sam hadn't known a lick about the code words when the four of them had been dragged into the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre, which made that whole breakout bit after more'n a bit of a surprise. If anyone'd told him he would have been strutting straight back into a room with the Soldier so that he could promptly be hurled head over tail across the room, he would'a come a little more prepared.

Sam'd never heard the words read aloud of course, and he didn't know they were even there until he'd helped Steve drag Bucky's unconscious body through an abandoned manufacturing plant, just so they could secure that biting metal arm of his under a hydraulic press and interrogate him. That's where he'd first heard about the code words. Up until that point, neither he or Steve had any idea just who or what they were dealing with, no less why his old pre-War pal Bucky'd opted to go on the run after he'd pulled Steve's own ass out of the Potomac.

Why? Well, because he didn't want HYDRA to catch up with him and make him do shit against his will.

And what'd happened? Barnes'd been captured, and not hours after being dragged into containment "for his own protection" in Germany… that exact chain of events had happened.

Except Zemo wasn't HYDRA. But it was close enough. That asshole sure as hell wasn't calling the shots because he gave a damn about him or anyone else.

The point being: When the power'd been cut, Zemo'd said code words. Steve never heard 'em, no recordings caught 'em, and weirder yet: Barnes claimed he didn't remember 'em at all. When they finally caught up with Zemo in Siberia, he was willing to take whatever it was to his grave, just like he'd planned to. He wasn't about to share a drop of it with anyone. That was that. That's all Sam knew on that landmine of a topic.

Afterwards, when he and the undercover Avengers were on the run in their self-imposed exile, it wasn't a topic Steve said much about. There was nothing to add beyond the occasional remark that he hoped the Wakandans would be able to help Bucky. All Sam knew, was at some point a year and change later, Steve'd gotten a message that the code words had been cleared-out of his childhood best friend's brain, and that he'd plan to go surprise him with a visit after they wrapped up "just one more" high-priority mission.

But it was always "just one more."

…Anyways.

That'd been the plan.

Instead, they got Thanos.

Twice.

In the aftermath of all that, well, it wasn't like there was any solemn need for Sam to talk to Bucky about the code words that'd held him captive for so long. He had every reason to believe they'd been cleared out through some Wakandan techno-magic while Bucky'd been in dreamin' away in cryo. What use would it be to poke around and ask him to dig into his past just because some part of Sam was curious?

Sam didn't know how it all worked, and frankly? After seeing what just happened, he felt certain he'd be content to live out the rest of his solemn life never witnessing something half as uncomfortable. Even putin' faith in Shuri and Ayo's solemn resolve that the words still didn't work – because holy shit, what if they had? – the whole thing was nothing but misery to watch even just as a bystander. Not that he was complaining, mind you. Barnes's role in the whole production was infinitely worse. But Sam hadn't been expecting to ever have to stand by and watch while someone who was undeniably a person, rather than just a mindless murder-bot, begged for them to stop.

Looked him in the eyes and begged him to stop.

And that Sam would have to stand by and do nothing because it was supposedly the 'right thing,' even though it sure as hell didn't feel like the right thing as it played out in real time in front of him.

He still could distinctly remember the pain and profound betrayal flooding through Barnes's voice as he pleaded with Sam to at least understand why he was forsaking him in his time of need, "Why? I saved you. I saved you!"

And still, some part of Sam was quick to remind himself that he'd been morbidly curious for years about how the whole thing worked, not because he wanted to see Bucky in pain, but because the very idea of someone being able to unlock a Manchurian candidate and trained ex-assassin with a few well-placed words seemed entirely surreal. Blatant science fiction. Especially after you'd gotten to know him. That guy? The same guy that played ball with his nephews, cleaned up after meals, and spent the twilight hours reading fantasy drivel from his perch on that broken-down couch? That guy coulda' turned on you with a few casual words?

But now? Now the hen-pecked spot of private curiosity reminded Sam of the first time he'd attended an open casket funeral when he was a kid. He'd initially thought better of himself than to take a peek at seeing his first bonafide dead body. But against his better judgment his mamma's wise words, his curiosity got the better of him. And wouldn't you know? He had nightmares for weeks.

He would'a been better off not knowing.

This felt a lot like that. That every bit of what he saw and heard would be playin' on repeat for months to come, if not the rest of his life. At the core of it all, he couldn't take back seein' how much it utterly unraveled the man in front of him, and freshly reminded Sam that regardless of how benign the words were now, Barnes and Bucky both had gone through close to a century of absolute hell living in fear of their shadow.

That being as it was, deep down Sam understood why Barnes's temper had flared bright at Ayo's proposition, but Sam also wasn't in denial about how terrifying it was to see him so utterly unhinged.

Sam was no stranger to the moody whims of kids throwin' tantrums to get their way, but there was always ridiculousness under those high-pitched wails, and the sort of self-awareness that they were doin' what they were doin' squarely to get the attention and desired reaction out of a nearby adult. But the moment you'd gotten a few steps through grade school, you learned quick-as-a-whistle that those ploys only got you so far with teachers and parents that'd had a heavy heaping of experience with unruly kids.

Adults yelled, sure, but outside of a YouTube video or movie, it was all-around rare to see firsthand. If you did, it was usually over some of the dumbest shit known to man. People losing their cool over a messed-up food order or someone lookin' at 'em wrong in a parking lot. Nothing like this. Sam'd gotten a rise out of Buck on more than one occasion, but Lord-knows it was never anything like this. Hell, even when Sam'd gone up against the Soldier, there wasn't bonafide heat in that robotic expression of his.

This had been something else entirely. The sheer, palpable distress on Barnes's face as he fought tooth and nail to escape, intermingled with desperation as he searched the faces around him for help, and found only pointed disregard. That profound betrayal in his bloodshot blue eyes would be haunting Sam for a long time to come. Even now, it didn't sit well with the very particular fear it stirred up about realizing just what-all Barnes was capable of when he was pushed to his limits and then some.

That he was undeniably dangerous.

But for the moment, you wouldn't have known that just a short while earlier, the bruised and battered man silently curled-up just beyond that shield even possessed the ability to be that angry. He certainly didn't look it. Somewhere in there, Sam found himself wondering if that was maybe even the first time Barnes, or even 'Bucky,' had ever allowed themselves to 'feel' with that level of raw intensity.

The first voice to gently broach the silence came from just to Sam's right, where Nomble sat observing Barnes from her seat on the grass beside Sam. From her tone, it was clear her words were not for Sam, "Would hot tea be of comfort to you? I would prepare the red rooibos tea you favor or another if you find it desirable."

Barnes unfurled his stiff neck to cast his attention in her direction. There was something heavy in those blue eyes of his, but he held her gaze long enough to offer a weak nod. In response, Nomble looked past him to Ayo for what might've been permission before rising to her feet. Without another word, she stepped away towards a nearby collection of kitchenware, and stoked the nearest fire with another log and a sweet-smelling bundle of wild kindling before she began rummaging through some small baskets, plates, and colorful clay cups in search of what she was looking for.

In the wake of her departure, Barnes's eyes briefly flitted over the others in the group, as if he was uncomfortable lingering on any of their faces for too long. It was blatantly obvious he was still overwhelmed and struggling to process the wide-reaching implications of the recent revelation that he was quite unexpectedly free from the grip of the code words that had haunted him for so long.

When Barnes's eyes returned to his knees, Sam managed to catch a whiff of Ayo's expression from just to his left. He wanted to imagine that at the core of all this was a seed of joy and relief that they'd managed to finally get through to him, but the look on Ayo's face was somehow more human than he ever remembered seeing. It spoke to how much of a toll this was taking on her, and moreover, that she was no-doubt worried this singular, sacrificial act might've ultimately cost her any hope of a relationship with Barnes going forward.

The second-highest ranking member of Wakanda's esteemed Dora Milaje, the one that, frankly, had a way of putting the fear of God into Sam in the right setting, sat quietly on the grass with her legs loosely crossed so that the injured leg Shuri'd begun to work on was slightly extended. Somewhere along the way, she'd retracted her spear and laid the gleaming cylinder of it across her lap, resting her hands atop it. The silver of her spear and the rings encircling her neck and forearms caught the light of the fading sunset and flickering firelight, casting a warm swath of weaving bands of color over them.

"...Did you get all of them?" Barnes's perilously raw and quiet voice finally broke the silence, "All the words?"

When Sam glanced over to see who Barnes was addressing, he was surprised to see Barne's bloodshot eyes focused on him. They rested there for a moment, but when Sam didn't immediately respond, they traveled to the faces nearby, as he was willing to accept an answer from any of them.

Shuri spoke first, her voice slower and more measured than Sam was used to hearing from her. It was clear she was self-aware that speaking in her customary quick rhythm might upset the delicate moment they found themselves in, "I did. The last word was made benign in early 2018, a little over six years ago."

Sam turned his head so he could see her a bit better over and behind his left shoulder. Like the others, she sat with her legs crossed, but her expression was intensely focused, as if she was especially eager to find common ground with Barnes. No doubt, anything she learned she hoped would be useful in their quest, and could prove valuable to the scientists working in her stead back at the Design Center. "It took time and great pains to discover each of the poisoned words, as we had precious little knowledge on how they were implanted to begin with, no less how we might uncover them or cure you of the bite of their snares." She tilted her chin up as she added, "I was once told by the man with your face that prior to their removal, the words would quickly fade from memory so they could not be recalled later. Not even the language they were spoken in. Once the force of their impact was finally cleared away, I was told they no longer faded to the shadows after being overheard. Here, I will show you the complete list of them."

With a few taps of her fingers, a holographic display lit up above Shuri's outstretched palm and she rotated it so Barnes could easily see its contents. As if by pure instinct alone, Sam turned his head away, as if disinclined to read a solemn letter of that sensitive readout that was not a bit his business. If it was courtesy to look away when someone was punching in their ATM pin or password, it was more than appropriate to offer a spot of privacy for words that had once unlocked cheat-codes to his actual brain.

Sam had to make a conscious effort to unclench his fists when he realized he'd started down a dark path ruminating on if any of these assholes that had done this were still around. Christ. Yeah, maybe rather than offering Bucky platitudes about "making amends" and "being of service," it might'a been worth asking about this?

As Sam kept his eyes intentionally away from what he suspected was a list of expired Game Genie codes for his Partner's brain, he opted instead to try and glean what he could from Barnes's expression. For how bedraggled and worn-down he was, his eyes were surprisingly alert as he took inventory of the floating list above Shuri's palm.

"Do you recognize them?" Shuri prompted after a few long moments.

Barnes's eyebrows narrowed, and Sam could see his eyes track up and across columns and rows, "Not all of them," he admitted.

"Would you like me to toggle on the display of what we believe the purpose was for each set?"

A pause.

"Yes."

Sam couldn't see the words, because he was keepin' his head turned purposely away from 'em, but he could see the blue and white light of them reflected in Barnes's eyes and across his pale bruised and stubbled face. Subtle shifts in his expression acted as silent punctuations for his thoughts as he read through the playbook Shuri had on full display for him.

After his eyes settled and looked past the display to Shuri, she asked, "Are there any others you know that are not listed here?"

Sam's throat caught at that horrific possibility, but he realized Shuri could hardly consider herself a scientist if she didn't at least ask, especially now that Barnes might actually be willing to supply bonafide answers to meaningful questions like this.

After a long enough pause that Sam's chest was starting to hurt from holding his breath, Barnes finally answered, "...No." His voice was quiet. "All the ones I know are listed there." As if concluding the exchange, he proceeded to rearrange his hands and wrap his mottled-purple hand more tightly around his blood-stained jeans.

Just as the light of Shuri's holographic text display faded away, Yama's voice called for their attention from the other side of Ayo, "My Chief…?"

Every head around them turned in Yama's direction. She sat just off to Ayo's left in a neat and tidy cross-legged arrangement that would have impressed even the most nitpicky yoga instructor. Her expression was collected, and though her eyes briefly glanced at Shuri – no doubt well-aware she'd stepped between her conversation with Barnes, if you could call it that – Yama kept her attention focused on Ayo and raised her head as she addressed her superior officer, "I wish to utilize your esteemed offer to speak words without judgment or repercussion."

Shuri's nearest eyebrow quirked in curiosity, and she glanced between them, visibly confused at what Yama was getting at. Even Ayo's face curled in displeasure, as if she was cross that Yama sought to interrupt their princess, "Your timing is not without cause for rebuke, but I will hear you."

Yama adjusted her shoulders and kept her attention focused on Ayo, "I wish to act as 'Yama' and guide the next steps forward, which warrant care before curiosity, and with it, the wisdom to not wish our princess to pursue undue risks."

Shuri's other eyebrow lifted at that particular proclamation, but understanding touched the corner of her face. The resident genius and Princess of Wakanda offered only, "I do not find myself presently inclined to object to the merit of this request, but it is ultimately Ayo's decision."

While Sam didn't pretend to understand exactly what manner of negotiation was going on between the three of them, Ayo didn't look entirely convinced. She regarded Shuri, Barnes, and then Yama for a long moment each before she finally concluded aloud, "You may act as 'Yama.'"

The part she didn't say out loud that Sam caught clear as anything in the mountain air was, '...but be careful.'

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Sam watched as Yama, bless her energetic heart, all-but bounced to her feet and placed the cylinder containing her retracted spear at her feet and scurried off to retrieve what looked to be a vibranium briefcase from the far side of their encampment. As she passed by the spot where Nomble was working to heat a kettle of water, Yama offered her sister Dora a quick, if conspiratorial smile before returning to Shuri's side. She dipped her head respectfully as she used her free hand to gesture politely towards the hinged, crescent-shaped medical device resting on the grass beside Shuri, the one the resident tech genius had been using on Ayo's leg prior to the decision to speak the code words. "My princess, would you deem it appropriate for me to request use of the portable regeneration stabilizer?"

"Of course," Shuri agreed. She reached over and plucked the ornate silver device from the grass and brushed some stray dirt off the bottom of it for good measure before handing it to Yama, "What work I have remaining is not critical and can wait until a more opportune time."

Sam saw Shuri's attention shift to Barnes, as if she was curious if the sight of the hinged medical device might provoke him, but as near as Sam could tell, Barnes was far more interested in Yama herself than the peripherals in her hands. His layered expression wasn't exactly easy to read, but there was a pointed wariness that stood out clear as anything.

Without any further hesitation, Yama stepped forward to face the nearby boundary so she could get an unobstructed view of him. Once her feet were in place, she ducked down so her head was level with his. Her tone was pleasant, and not nearly as delicate as the one Ayo used when addressing him, "I told you yesterday that it would be the first of many sunsets that cool into bright stars, but that I looked forward to the moment of realization when you might finally recognize that no cruelty awaits you." She tilted her head a bit as she added, "This was admittedly not the manner I expected such truths might be revealed, but it does not take away from the fact we are both here, and that I still wish to help."

Barnes regarded her, and though Sam was still having one hell of a time getting a read on him, he was relieved that as of yet, the other man didn't show signs of distress at her approach or bold attempt at conversation.

"You have injured yourself," Yama continued, "and while I am not cross at you for testing the mettle of my fine work, I would not see your foot continue to seep and risk healing improperly or becoming infected." She raised her chin in the direction of his far shoulder as she added, "I think you might have broken or at the very least grossly dislocated something in your right hand as well, and I do not wish to see you in pain. Would you permit me to step inside the boundary again so I can tend to your wounds? As before, I will do nothing without your consent."

Sam was passingly aware that Barnes's attention had shifted to the medical device in Yama's right hand, but Sam's own mind was scrambling at the mere proposition that though it hadn't even been fifteen minutes since Barnes had been fighting tooth and nail to escape, Yama was now asking to just… step right on into that same shield. Logically, Sam knew Yama and Nomble had both safely entered and exited it on more than one occasion, but seeing her willingness to reenterthe lion's den so soon after he'd erupted in a violent outburst was… well it was something. A very particular type of bravery, that was for damn sure.

Yama gestured to the tool in her right hand, "This medical device is called a portable regeneration stabilizer. It allows me to mend organic tissue and bone without the necessity of a needle and thread. This was used on Ayo's leg and a larger, more feature-laden version assisted Sam with his own injuries. I would prefer we use this more advanced and comprehensive technology to alleviate your wounds, but I can also utilize methods like the ones we used before if you find them preferable."

Barnes regarded the device and Yama herself with noticeable apprehension but not cruelty. When he didn't immediately answer her, Yama continued speaking, but her tone grew ever-more personal, "Do you understand now why we were compelled to not act as Ayo spoke the first nine words? Are we good, you and I? If you hold anger or resentment towards me, I would have us speak candidly about it. I do not wish to fear you might injure me if you permit me inside the shield."

Barnes frowned at her words, and his reddened eyes glanced briefly at his ailing foot, hands, then Sam, Shuri, and Ayo before they returned to Yama's face. For a moment, Sam thought he might have resolved to continue to keep his thoughts to himself, but eventually he bit his lip and chewed it uncomfortably before he tested his voice again. What came out was deep, raw, and loaded with emotions that reminded Sam of not the Soldier, but Buck, "You knew they wouldn't work." He swallowed, eyeing his bruised hand with a measure of what Sam pegged as guilt as he added more hoarsely, "I won't hurt you. I didn't know…" his voice faded away entirely.

"You have not lied to me yet, Barnes, so I choose to trust you at your word," Yama stated evenly as she legit just… stepped right on through the barrier without another moment's hesitation. "Now scoot back a bit so you can fully extend your leg and I have more room to work."

The rapid shift in protocol and circumstance took Sam by complete surprise. One moment Yama was outside the protective shield, the next she was clearing space on the grass inside so she could sit cross-legged on the ground directly in front of Barnes. Sam's nerves had a way of rising up in that moment, running a soldier's quick math that she was certainly close enough that Barnes could have easily reached out and grabbed her by the throat…

…But he didn't. He just sat there, pressing his hands together and covering the bruised one with its vibranium counterpart, as if he was maybe even a little self-conscious about it too.

The odd part was, the visible tension wrapped around Barnes actually seemed to fall away upon Yama's entry. Sam'd assumed – wrongly, apparently – that Barnes would at least be a little jumpy, but he didn't so much as flinch as he watched Yama open the case and settle into her work, "Lift your foot so I can put a pad under it. I am hoping I do not need to debride the wound, but we will see once it is unwrapped and properly cleaned."

And Barnes just… did what she asked. Just like that.

"It was considerate of you to use your other foot when you sought to test the strength of the boundary," Yama calmly observed. There was a beat of silence as she pulled out some supplies and began carefully peeling the bloodied bandages from around the top of his ankle, "Would silence or conversation best serve you?"

And Barnes…. answered her. Right away. Like she was some sort of magical assassin whisperer. "I don't know," Barnes admitted. Without being prompted, he leaned over and attempted to pre-empt her next move by rolling up his pant leg with unsteady fingers. Yama's hands seamlessly transitioned to help him with his task before he added candidly, if a bit confessionally, "It's hard to know what's real. What to want, now that…" his voice faded off.

"Now that…?" Yama prompted. It was clear she wasn't seeking to put words in his mouth or answer for him.

The gears were turning in that big cyborg brain of his, that was for damn sure, "...now that my mission objectives aren't set by them. Or because of them."

Sam caught the subtle shift in pronouns, the silent acknowledgement in so many words that she was no longer potentially bucketed alongside his aggressors.

Yama nodded, "You are free to seek your own purpose now. But it is not something you must decide with any sense of urgency. It has only been in the last few years that I desired to learn more about our sciences and medicines so that I might be useful. You will have time enough as well." As she removed the outer layer of bandages she added, "Would you like Sam to sit with us, if he is interested?"

Sam had been so busy listening to the two of them talk that he hadn't been ready for his name to be dropped mid-conversation, but at the sound of it, Barnes looked his way, and damned if it didn't make Sam feel a lot of conflicting things all at once. Discomfort at meeting eyes with someone that had done him significant harm the day before but relief that he looked to be doing better rather than worse. Then, a pang of sadness deep in his chest that it wasn't his Buck lookin' back at him, swiftly followed by guilt, because he was certain Barnes was somehow able to read that disappointment too.

Before he could even begin to work through the possibility of getting up-close-and-personal with Barnes in a contained space again, Yama continued speaking, "Now is a good time, I think, to consider the potential for camaraderie with those around you with fresh eyes. If Sam is willing, he might even have more photographs he could share with us, like the others I showed you. But if you wish for him to join us, then you should invite him and make a promise to him that you will not do him harm. He is understandably nervous from what he has seen and been done to him."

Sam caught Ayo's gaze immediately shift to where he was sitting dumbfounded just to her right. His own mouth was propped open wide, but no words trickled out because he hadn't been expecting for Yama to just… go and say the quiet parts out loud. Was this what she'd meant by saying Barnes wasn't made of glass? She was direct with him, that was for damn sure.

Barnes chewed on Yama's words for no more than a few seconds before he turned his full attention to where Sam was sitting and regarded the star in the center of his chest and then Sam's hands before cautiously meeting his eyes.

The last time Sam'd been locked in Barnes's sights to that intense degree was when he'd been begging him to stop Ayo from saying the words. Now…? Sam couldn't find any anger or resentment in his eyes. There were questions aplenty, certainly, but his expression was somehow more open. More distinct. When the ex-assassin opened his mouth to speak, it was not only absent of heat, but it was strangely difficult to imagine that not minutes earlier, he'd been set on clawing his way out of the shield tooth and nail with every bit of strength he had. Barnes pressed his hands together, as if self-conscious about what they'd done to Sam the day before, "I…" he considered his words, "I didn't know. I won't hurt you… again."

Sam had to remind himself to breathe. That was… well. That was something alright. Even as he watched Yama peel away the blood-soaked wrapping near the front of his foot, Barnes didn't so much as flinch. He just kept his focus squarely on Sam, as if he was the more important consideration of the two.

Not only that, Sam quickly realized, but Barnes trusted Yama enough to feel comfortable letting her do her thing without feeling it necessary to closely monitor each step of her progress. And Barnes was lookin' at him, apologizing in his own way, and promising in his own way to try and turn a corner with him. If that's what Sam wanted.

Sam'd heard a heavy heaping of apologies over the years, including loads that started with "I'm sorry" but didn't have a drop of conviction or sincerity to them. This one though? He saw it deep in Barnes's steady blue eyes. They weren't empty words spoken out of rote obligation or circumstance. In fact, it might have been one of the most soulful attempts at a genuine apology Sam'd ever seen, because he could tell that not only did Barnes mean every word of it, but that in his own way, he'd come to realize that he wasn't owed a thing. Not acceptance. Not Sam's understanding. Not even the vestiges of a friendship he couldn't remember. Nothin'.

In the wake of Barnes learning that his mind was again his own, he consciously chose to not take any freedom away from the people around him, in even the smallest measure.

And that right there made Sam feel a very particular way. That Barnes, even now, maybe even especially now was viewing the friendships he was seeing around him as opt-in rather than something any of them were owed.

That being as it was, Sam also had no intention of abandoning Barnes. "Okay then… just…" he took a deep breath as he tried to sort out his own terms of their new accord on the fly, "if you could avoid movin' too quick-like, what nerves I have left would appreciate it." Was he seriously considering this? Just like that: pretending they were cool?

While a not insignificant part of him was still reeling in whiplash from all he'd been through recently, wasn't this as good a chance as any to try and get on the same page with him? The former Winter Soldier clearly wasn't the type to just…. hug it out, but if he could effectively surrender himself over to people he thought were HYDRA to help ensure Sam got the help he needed, well… Sam could swallow his nerves awhile and put on a brave face, right?

"How do I…?" Sam began aloud, but Shuri was already at least two steps ahead of him, like usual.

He caught a pocket of motion just behind him and to his left as two of her nimble fingers rolled across a Kimoyo Bead on her wrist, "I have made adjustments to the harmonics, so you can proceed as you wish. You will be able to pass through safe and unhindered."

That last bit was likely her own way of reminding him that there were still contingencies in place just in case, but before Sam could spend another moment second-guessing his own resolve, he scooted his red, white, and blue hide across the grass and directly into the belly of the beast.

---

A core part of the rigid training Barnes endured for countless years focused on the tactical aspects of mission prioritization. The ability to seamlessly react on the fly to any number of ever-changing variables. To sort out useful information from noise, and willfully drown out what was deemed unimportant in the moment: the screaming of civilians, the pain in his head, the part of him that wished to check on the condition of his allies, even though he was specifically instructed not to while engaged in combat.

The mission was alway the priority. Everything else came after.

When he'd finally broken away from HYDRA, he'd struggled to sort out the sweeping new world he found himself in. Even then, even after he had somehow managed to adjust his mission parameters and retrieve his target, Steve Rogers, and ensure he received adequate aid rather than eliminating him, Barnes was able to quickly determine new objectives that were necessary. To maintain a secure perimeter over his target, he was required to intercede on further attempts made on his target's life as well as his own. He rigorously adapted to the ever-changing conditions around himself and acquired a range of nutrients, ammunition, and personal supplies that allowed him to flexibly re-prioritize his ongoing activities as-needed.

And one priority that stood out above all else was the emphatic need to remain vigilant for agents of HYDRA who weren't about to let their precious "Asset" slip through their fingers. He didn't know how it all worked, but he knew somewhere deep down that a single sound could lead to his undoing. It was part of why he couldn't let any of them get close.

But now…? Now for the first time since he was capable of remembering, he found himself unexpectedly… free… and suddenly without anything resembling a mission objective. More than that, he was struggling to find a way to prioritize… anything and everything at once. The full scope of what had happened to him, the fractured glimmers of dreams and memories that didn't coalesce into anything linear, no less remotely recognizable. He could hardly begin to imagine what future might await him, when even the present was uncomfortable to sit with.

Moreover, he couldn't explain why the multitude of questions seizing up inside him seemed to recede the moment Yama entered the dome. It wasn't as if they'd gone away entirely, but it was as if they were somehow less important than trying to be fully present for his conversation with her.

"You are free to seek your own purpose now. But it is not something you must decide with any sense of urgency… You will have time enough as well."

He didn't have any concrete explanation on why the proximity of the people around him had slowly transitioned from being an outright irritant to… something he couldn't easily identify. Of all things, the sensation reminded him of his evolving feelings towards local strays sharing his territory in Washington D.C. Though he'd taken great efforts to ensure they could freely partake in optimal nourishment a distance away from where he'd set up his surveillance operation, after a few days, a number of them had specifically sought him out.

He didn't know what to make of it at first. Perhaps, that the lingering scent of food or his unwashed condition somehow piqued their curiosity. He certainly didn't think he in any way encouraged this unscripted behavior. It was irritating and suboptimal to be laying on his belly, looking down a scope, only to feel gentle pressure curl up against his side or a wet nose or whiskers playing against his exposed ear.

But in time, he discovered that their presence added something to existence. It was more than just the fact that they provided an extra set of keen predatory eyes that were quick to stir if something unusual startled them. It was almost as if being near any one of the felines had a way of providing some degree of comfort. As if proximity had the potential to be inexplicably linked with positive associations rather than only negative.

This felt a lot like that.

Unfortunately, it was clear from Sam's posture and expression that his proximity to Barnes was not providing him notably positive associations. Though his body was seated inside the shield, his breathing had visibly spiked and Barnes didn't need to check his pulse to know that had climbed exponentially as well. He was doing a fair job feigning he was not presently in distress, but Barnes found it curious why, given the choice, he hadn't simply chosen to stay outside the dome if he found it preferable.

It was clear that Sam still anticipated the possibility of being at the receiving end of some manner of violence, so Barnes did his best to make himself look small and keep remarkably still as Sam settled. He was dully aware that his nose itched from a trickle of sweat sliding over his brow and down his face, but he chose to suppress the urge to brush it away and instead kept his hands pressed firmly together, acknowledging they were the weapons Sam was likely most leery of. This was an opportunity for him to show Sam he would act in ways that provoked further negative associations with their proximity.

He was not surprised that Sam chose to position himself just outside of reach of his hands all the same.

From this distance, and without the backlight of the fire behind him, it was easier to make out more of the nuances on the suit Sam was wearing. The colors and patterns bore an undoubted resemblance to aspects of the official uniforms Steve Rogers wore, but it was also notably different, and form-fitted enough to not be the same article of clothing.

Some of the most apparent differences were the reinforced boots and gauntlets, as well as what looked to be some sort of backpack harness that went over his shoulders and appeared to connect around his lower body. If Barnes had to guess, based on prior engagements, it likely contained a flight apparatus of some kind. The silver inside of a round shield was just barely visible over his shoulders, and while some part of Barnes was curious to see what was on the other side, some part of him insisted that was a rabbit hole for another time. He'd seen Steve alive and well firsthand only recently, yet Sam had claimed he died in 2023, and the man on the phone, "J. Rhodes," War Machine, seemed to imply that Sam himself was now the acting Captain America.

Barnes wasn't sure what to make of all that, no less how he could even begin to diagnose what if any drops of truth there were to those claims, but he knew it was a conversation that could wait until he had a better idea of what he was dealing with. His residual mission prioritization experiences told him that his present situation was far more pressing.

"So…" Sam began, his voice clearly giving away his nervousness about the situation he found himself in, "you both shared photos?"

"His phone did not have many," Yama admitted as she peeled away the final blood-soaked layer of cloth to reveal where Barne's ailing foot was again split in two. Sam visibly cringed at the sight before forcibly redirecting his attention away from the open wound. Barnes chose to examine his foot more closely. The stitches close to the middle of the gaping wound managed to hold firm, but the ones closer to the front leading to his toes had torn open. Yama offered no present commentary on the injury as she continued to work. Her lack of remark had a way of communicating that she saw nothing that alarmed her, so neither did he.

He was glad he'd accepted the offer of further pain relief for it prior to Sam and Shuri's arrival, though.

"I have more than enough recordings to provide suitable entertainment," The corner of Yama's mouth quirked in a demure smile. "In fact, you might be interested to know Barnes has already memorized all the names of the Screaming Avengers."

Sam made a strange face at that, but Barnes caught how Yama's words had a way of softening his expression, as well as Ayo's behind her, "Is that right?"

"The "bad goat" that climbs high into trees is also named Sam," Barnes noted helpfully.

Sam cocked his head incredulously at that. Wait. Had he already had the opportunity to meet the goat named Sam?

"Sam has not yet visited with the Screaming Avengers," Yama observed, as if preempting his next question, "But I hope at some point we might visit with them. Did you know, Barnes, that I have now spent more time in your company than I have with human-Sam?"

"Just 'Sam's' fine," Human-Sam noted, folding his lips together in thought. "I hadn't stopped to consider that, but now that you mention it… yeah. I didn't really have a lot of extended conversations with any of you until, well." His expression dipped a little to that private place Barnes couldn't quite parse.

"A great deal has been unexpected," the woman tending to his foot worked to clean around the splayed opening of his foot, "but I have discovered remarkable merit and kinship in these times, as well as furthering my expertise with foot injuries."

Barnes wasn't sure why, but seeing Yama's quiet smile prompted him to look past her to where Ayo was sitting with Shuri diagonally behind her. He'd felt as if he'd been able to get a bit of a read on Ayo earlier, but her face was tighter now, as if she felt the need to maintain strict composure in the wake of saying the words. He wasn't sure what he felt when he met her deep brown eyes, or what she was seeing when she returned his gaze. It was distant, unfocused. Some part of him was still raw with anger and resentment over what she'd done, but a growing part of him was reminded of something else entirely.

It was difficult to pinpoint what it was exactly, because the only times he'd felt something remotely similar was when he'd gone after the HYDRA agents sent to take him in. While the majority of them were quickly disposed of, there were a few that he remembered working alongside prior to his escape. Their willingness to seek him out and attempt to pull him back into that life of servitude even after all they'd seen and done, and done to him… it made him feel something darker, heavier when he put them down.

He didn't string it out, didn't torture them like he was taught to do when further information was necessary. Everything was quick. Clean. Efficient. But when he watched them take their final breaths, it was as if the depths of their betrayal was laid bare in their expressions, and a part of him was privately relieved they wouldn't be able to force their poisoned oppression on anyone else.

When Barnes looked at Ayo, he wondered if she could feel how close he'd come to doing the same to her, all the while unaware she'd been speaking the truth.

If he'd managed to get through the shield, he would have made quick work of her. He had it all planned, too.

He would have used his right hand to press the contact points to release his left arm, and use it as leverage to remove the electrical node planted on the back of his shoulder. In one smooth motion, he'd swing the arm wide and up, jamming the metal fingers under her chin, through her palette, and directly into her brain, silencing her in a single, highly lethal move. She would have been dead before anyone even had the chance to ignite the energy pulse from the node and subdue him.

And then, he would have re-inserted the arm and taken down the rest of them one-by-one.

But she would have died first.

Could she see it now, in his eyes? That he'd been fully ready to end her life then, and that now, all he felt was pain and profound regret for the injuries he'd given her, intermingled with distress for what might have happened if the shield hadn't held?

She didn't say anything, and neither did he.

"This morning, we looked forward to when you were awake again so that we might share photos," Yama spoke up, pulling him from the dark spiral of his thoughts on what might've been.

Barnes turned his attention away from Ayo and back to Sam, doing what he could to contribute to the conversation, "Nomble said it was rude to suggest taking a photo while someone was sleeping. That would not have been sufficient consent."

Sam actually snorted at that, "Normally I'd have agreed with her, but if it helped reassure you any that I was doin' okay, I would have made a one-time exception."

Barnes made sure Yama could hear him as he grumbled aloud, "I told you…"

She smiled as she wrapped up a small pile of soiled linens and cotton swabs and turned her attention to the crescent-shaped medical device beside her, "Would you prefer I use the more advanced technologies available to me to mend your foot this time, or would you prefer I use the ones from before? For what it is worth, the more comprehensive option is not only more structurally sound, but it will be faster and less painful."

"That option then," he responded without hesitation. Part of him was undeniably curious to see firsthand how such remarkable healing techniques were even possible, and he watched as she opened the hinge and adjusted the opening so it was slightly wider than his foot.

When she was satisfied, she toggled a secondary control using her other hand which appeared to fine-tune the intended depth. The overhead display defaulted to Wakandan, but she switched it to English, probably for Sam's benefit. "You may notice some tension as the sides are pulled together and slight tingling as the tissue begins to mend itself together, but the process should be remarkably tolerable. If it is not, you will let me know, yes?"

He nodded and watched as a blue light emitted from the inside edge of the device and the beams came together in an undulating point centered on the core of his foot where the stitches had been torn free. He watched in fascination at this new approach while Yama set about her task, "Sam, do you have photos on your phone you might enjoy sharing while I work?"

Before Sam could even respond, Barnes looked in his direction, confused, "You got another phone?"

Sam opened and closed his mouth as if he'd been considering a snappy reply, but instead went with a slightly defensive, "Shuri was kind enough to make me a replacement since my other one is more'n a few pieces past any insurance claim call I'd want to make."

Barnes's attention traveled to Shuri at the mention of her name. She hadn't said much, but her expression was heavy and layered like that of Ayo's. He wasn't sure what to think of her, either, and though he didn't have much to go on so far as his spotty memories were concerned, the sight of her sitting there on the ground, partially obscured by Ayo had a way of freshly reminding him of how they'd been sitting out on grass when he'd dragged Sam topside.

Even then, they'd tried to get through to him. To offer him reassurances and well-meaning words he'd been all-too-quick to dismiss.

Had she really been the one responsible for removing the impact of the code words that had haunted him for so long? She looked so young. "...Did it injure you?"

Shuri appeared surprised that he'd chosen to address her directly, but she was quick to engage him, "It did not. Ayo took the brunt of the impact on her armor."

Ayo was quick to speak and waved a hand dismissively, "It caused only a bruise. I am fine. It is why our armor is reinforced." She rolled her shoulders in a small shrug as her uncertain brown eyes met his, "Besides, your aim is true. Your choice to act in the manner you did offered us valuable insight that you saw us as obstacles that you desired to circumvent rather than engage. We were not offered the gift of your name then, but it was clear you were not the man we feared. He does not miss, and neither do you."

Barnes frowned as he sat with Ayo's words. She was correct on both counts. If he'd intended to kill one of them back there, there's a good chance he would have been successful. It felt wrong to take credit for the decision to spare their lives, however, as he felt as if he'd been acting on instinct rather than intention alone. His intention hadn't been to take lives indiscriminately, even if they stood in the way of his escape.

But here on the mountain, not a few minutes ago, he hadn't sought to disable her.

"...I didn't know…" He repeated for not the first time.

"We know," Ayo spoke softly to the sage-scented air between them.

Just then, Nomble softly stepped across the grass towards them carrying a tray of small colorful clay cups and a kettle of tea, the one she insisted was superior to heating water over a pot. She lowered herself to her knees beside Shuri and Ayo, indulging in the ceremony of pouring tea first for Shuri, and then Ayo. The women accepted them graciously, and held the cups in their hands. Barnes had been told there were times when food and drink was meant to be consumed freely, and other times, it served a secondary purpose of not only nourishment, but as a way of establishing or deepening bonds. He'd never seen anything quite like it before, but the familiar patterns of it were oddly calming, as was the fact Nomble had thought to procure enough cups for all of them, as if she was in some way welcoming Sam and Shuri to their private outcropping.

Nomble set aside the shaft of her collapsed spear and laid it on the grass next to Ayo before she rose to her feet again. With measured grace, she turned her body and took a step towards the barrier, but stopped just outside it, addressing him in the polite way she so often did, "May I enter?"

At his nod, she stepped through the shield just to Yama's left, folding herself to her knees so she could place the wooden tray on the grass in front of her. She said nothing more as she poured tea into the row of four colorful clay cups. The silence surrounding them was oddly peaceful, marked only by the crackle of the nearby fire and the quiet hum of the medical device in Yama's hand. The smile Yama offered her was warm, pleasant, and surprisingly soothing, even though it was not directed at him.

Though the horizon was still crested with a faint hint of warm light from the last visages of the setting sun, the sky overhead had finally dipped in starlight, and Barnes watched the patterns of the stars dance over the ripples of the tea at Nomble's fingertips. Once she finished pouring, she handed the first cup to Sam, and the next to Yama, who had briefly set aside her tools in preparation to accept the small cup of dark red tea.

When Nomble lifted her head to regard Barnes, it was not with the quiet trepidation he saw in Sam, but a moment of confusion on how to proceed. He'd moved his hands apart enough to accept the orange and crimson glazed cup she intended to offer him, but on second glance, it was readily apparent neither hand were particularly steady.

The knuckles and lower edge of his sweaty right hand were reddened and dipped in deep purple, and based on the questionable responsiveness of the fingers, he felt certain he'd manage to break a number of the bones while trying to shatter the barrier and stop Ayo. It was surprisingly painful to the touch, and while he knew he was capable of closing it if necessary, the act of doing so would only increase the intensity of the pain currently radiating through it. Comparatively, his left hand was intact, but the fingers of it continued to tremble and twitch from the persistent electrical current he'd subjected it to during his attempted escape. He'd dealt with far worse, but the sight of it had a way of reminding him of many things at once, including the damage he'd done to Sam's own hands, and the fact that his actions had cost M'yra her arm in-whole.

Though he hadn't seen her since their encounter in the Propulsion Laboratory, some part of him was quick to determine that like those around him, she was no longer marked as an agent of HYDRA.

Nomble must have caught something in his expression, because she waited patiently as he regarded his hands, noting that their present condition was not entirely conducive to accepting the hot beverage she no-doubt intended to offer him. She evaluated them considerately before focusing on his left one, "Would you permit me to try and help?"

He was aware it was a request for consent, and though he didn't understand her precise intentions, he felt certain she only desired to render aid. "Okay," he responded simply.

He could feel eyes upon him as she gestured to his left hand with her free hand, "May I?"

When he lifted it towards her, some buried part of him was quick to draw comparisons to the many doctors and engineers that had seen to the inner-workings of his metal hand over the years. The people that had treated him like an object. A thing. This was the first time he could recall where someone was requesting contact, and that he consented not out of obligation or obedience, but because he found the contact actually welcome. That there was an unspoken positive associate to it he didn't begin to understand.

…Like strays in Washington D.C. Many of the cats sharing his territory showed an odd preference for his left hand over his right.

Nomble placed her outstretched hand under his, steadying it and helping to position the fingers and curl them to form a tapered opening for the cup as well as spot for the base to rest against his pinky. Once she was satisfied, she used her other hand to carefully place the cup of tea snuggly within his palm. The logical part of him insisted that he shouldn't be able to feel any portion of the contact, yet his senses registered that she was applying a gentle pressure to his fingers and thumb in order to encourage them to securely close around the clay vessel. It was a strange sensation, but not unwelcome.

He watched the light of the stars and the constellations overhead glimmer across the surface of the tea as Nomble carefully pressed her fingers against one side of the clay cup. She silently and deliberately tested the strength of his grip, and then nodded once and sat back, using her hands to lift her own cup from the tray and hold it above her lap, as if she was considering if she wished to speak or remain silent.

"I do not know of a ceremony or words that suit this moment," she admitted to her tea, "but if such a language exists, I think it would be one steeped in quiet reflection for those around us, and hope."

At that, she put her cup to her lips and drank deeply, and everyone around her followed suit, even Sam, who closed his eyes as he did.

As Barnes swallowed the rich red rooibos tea, he paid attention to the way the sweet and slightly nutty flavor lingered on his tongue. Somewhere along the way, it occurred to him that this was the first time he could recall sharing food or drink with them without being at least passingly on-alert that they could be somehow tainted. He didn't second-guess his decision, but it felt strange and utterly foreign to find himself willing to so easily push such critical considerations aside.

"It sounds as if Yama and Sam plan to offer you the entertainment of images as she works," Nomble observed, "but do you remember your question of the meaning of 'regret?'" Her voice was patient, measured. It was the tone she used when he'd asked her questions about her stories, and he met her eyes as she spoke, "I said that it is a feeling of sadness, of repentance for something that has happened. Where choices made led to an outcome that you no longer desire, but cannot undo. I cannot pretend to know what you felt then or now, but if you find it to be 'regret,' know that I have already forgiven you for striking me when you did not know me. I hope in time you come to realize you are among those who wish to call themselves your friends, and that we are relieved to see light in your eyes again."

Her lips came together in a demure smile as she inclined her head before she lifted the tray, kettle, and her own cup and got to her feet again, softly stepping through the boundary of the shield so she could place rest the tray nearby and return to what Barnes recognized as her post opposite Shuri.

Barnes wasn't entirely sure how to process or respond to her remarks on regret, and that she'd chosen to forgive him for his actions against her, but he didn't feel inclined to immediately dismiss her claim. He sat with her words, letting the weight of them rest with the unexplainable ghost of a sensation of the half-filled cup still resting in his metal hand.

He suspected he did feel something akin to the 'regret' Nomble spoke of, but like so many things, there wasn't a clear path forward on how to resolve the heaviness of those realizations, no less his feelings towards the patchwork of faces his mind offered up from his time under HYDRA's thumb. Words and platitudes were horrendously insufficient to even begin to encapsulate what he could remember happening to him, no less the pain he'd inflicted on countless others.

His mind struggled to make sense of their faces. To piece together what if anything he'd been told ahead of his missions, and what he felt as he systematically pulled triggers, slung blades, and shattered bone without a second thought.

All those people… who were they? How many of them were only his adversaries because he'd been conscripted into becoming the 'Fist of HYDRA?' How had that even happened? When?

One man's pained and confused voice echoed in his mind. His target's final words were deemed unimportant at the time, and they were wiped away from his mind only hours later, but they now held new meaning and profoundly unsettling implications.

"...Sergeant Barnes…?"

A woman's terrified voice called out from nearby, panic rising in her as she realized this had been no accident, "Howard?!"

"Sanction and Extract," he'd been instructed. "No Witnesses."

The second time she called out, it was with a stroke of piercing horror.

Her husband was already dead.

"Howard!"

Within moments, he'd drained the life from her too, just as he'd been ordered to do. Made it look like an accident.

He hadn't questioned it, had he?

…Had he?

That hadn't been the first or last time someone had spoken that name before Barnes had killed them. How had the man known Sergeant Barnes?

Somewhere in his mind, he knew enough now to reframe the thought into something even more unsettling, but increasingly possible:

How had that man, and others like him, known him?

He didn't have answers for that, either, but he knew words of apology weren't going to undo anything that had happened, and they certainly weren't going to bring back the dead.

Barnes sat with his tea, gazing into its deep red depths and hoping that something in what he saw might settle some part of what he was feeling, because it was just too much. The liquid didn't offer up any easy solutions, but for whatever reason the reflection of the stars dappling the surface helped remind him that he no longer needed to presume those around him were HYDRA, and that even though he'd injured a number of them, for whatever reason they still desired to connect with him. To be his "friends."

Why?

Barnes shifted his jaw and pulled the cup of tea to his lips, draining the last of the warm liquid. When he was done, he lowered it, using both stiff and trembling fingers in conjunction to carefully place his empty cup on the ground off to one side where it wouldn't impede Yama's work. Yama and Sam set theirs nearby.

At some point, Sam must've already gotten out his new phone, and the sight of it freshly reminded Barnes of something else. With some amount of difficulty, he fished his fingers into his pocket and retrieved Sam's tri-fold brown leather wallet. He regarded it for only a moment, confirming it was the one that belonged to Sam and not the one belonging to "James Buchanan Barnes" before he very slowly stretched out his trembling metal hand and offered it to Sam, "Here. This is yours."

Sam took a second to cautiously reach his own hand towards Barnes, as if he was still timid about risking any sort of contact with him, "Thanks. Glad that didn't end up in the grass somewhere. Lotta hassle to cancel cards and things reissued. Not sure anyone would have believed me if I'd said a lion might've taken off with it."

Barnes was quick to identify it as what Nomble called "small talk" that occupied the time while Sam briefly flipped his wallet open, as if reassuring himself that everything was intact before he slipped it snugly into a zippered pocket on the side of his hip. The exchange bought him additional time to deliberate how to proceed, "I'm happy to show you some of the photos on my phone like Yama suggested, I just… I don't want anything like what happened back at the Design Center." He paused a moment as he glanced to Yama and back to Barnes before adding, "It goes without saying that I don't want anyone to get hurt again, including you. I don't want to risk upsetting you and end up right back where we started."

Barnes chewed his lip, not unaware of what Sam was getting at, "It's not like that now. I wouldn't hurt you. I… I thought you were just trying to manipulate me."

"And now?" Sam didn't necessarily look convinced, but Barnes couldn't blame him, either. It was a fair question, but one he didn't have an easy answer for. For a moment, his attention dropped to where Yama was progressing on reforming the severed area between the two sides of his left foot. While the process was far from complete, the area she was working on already looked a great deal better than it had only a short time ago, and the flesh on either side was a more acceptable color, as if it was now receiving proper blood flow.

He tried out 'small talk' on Yama while he ruminated on Sam's question, "Have you used it on me before?"

The relatively simple question produced a notable response in Yama's expression. It was a smile, but a sad one, "I have not used this device on you, but I have used it on others like yourself. But if you are asking if such healing devices have been used on you before, then the answer is yes. Many times."

He frowned as his mind parsed the next logical question. Though he didn't have any recollection of sparring with her in the last day or at any other time, he felt compelled to know, "...have I hurt you before?"

Yama's hands stopped moving entirely. She took a breath, and then her head tilted up to meet his. Her expression was serious, but not cross, "It has been many years, but yes. You have. When your mind was not well and you did not recognize me." Her free hand gestured to Ayo, Shuri, then Nomble, "Each of them have suffered injuries at your hands in the past. Some far more grave than others."

He glanced out to the three women seated just outside the dome, trying to piece together what Yama was implying. While they each lifted their heads in his direction, both Nomble and Shuri briefly turned their eyes to Ayo, as if acknowledging some private knowledge between them.

Barnes wished he understood more of what he was missing, but as he looked out at the faces beyond the artificial boundary, he finally admitted out loud, "I don't remember."

"We know," Ayo spoke softly, as if she understood.

Barnes frowned and turned his attention back to Yama. She met his eyes with reassurance and conviction, "It will feel better soon." Her skilled fingers resumed working on mending his foot using the medical device she was holding. After a moment, she inclined her head in Sam's direction, "But you did not answer Sam's question for you. On what you think of him now that you do not believe him to simply be trying to manipulate you." She produced one of her pleasant, easy shrugs before adding, "I remain curious to hear your answer as well, for it was not so very long ago that you leveled the same accusation in my direction."

He couldn't blame either of them for wanting clarity, but he didn't have much to offer them besides the fact that he wasn't compelled to believe either of them to be HYDRA, and based on the absence of the imprint of the code words…

"I don't know," he admitted, his voice low, "I… there are gaps in what I remember. It doesn't add up. But I don't remember any of you acting with HYDRA. If what you're saying is true, and you removed the… in my head… and the words. Then I… I don't know what it means. Why you'd do any of this? What's your objective is, if it's not…" he trailed off.

"'Cause it's the right thing to do," Sam supplied, seriously, "To help other people, I mean. And when we're not at odds, you're not a half-bad human person."

"He is being modest," Yama contributed, with a smile edging the corner of her face as she adjusted her wrist to target the underside of Barnes's foot, "When we are not at odds, you are a very pleasant human person. I'm sure Sam has photos to prove my claim." She plucked a bead free from her wrist and tossed it easily to Sam, "Here. If you hold this in your palm, photos you send to it will project overhead so they are easier to see."

Sam nodded and absentmindedly rolled the small bead around in the fingers of one hand while he used the thumb of his other to scroll through a selection of small thumbnail images on his phone that Barnes couldn't easily make out.

The expressions cast over Sam's face were layered with undeniable complexities that Barnes struggled to understand up until the moment he glanced to Yama, as if feeling the need to double-check his decision. At her nod, Sam opened his palm and pressed something on his phone that prompted a photo to display and expand out and over his hand like a floating, double-sided picture frame.

The image featured a golden sunset lingering over a tranquil waterfront. Two fist-sized figures sat beside one another with their backs to the viewer, blissfully unaware they were being photographed as they casually dangled their barefoot feet off the end of the dock and watched the colors stretch across the horizon.

"Sarah took this," Sam swallowed hard before he found his voice again. His words were slow in coming, laden with heavy emotion as he carved each of them one-by-one, "Not sure if you remember her, but she's my sister. This was taken out behind her place a few weeks back. She liked it so much, she printed out a copy on that old inkjet of hers and hung it on the fridge next to the rest of the family museum."

Sam visibly held his breath while Barnes took in the picture. He couldn't make out either of the silhouetted figures on account of the fact the camera's exposure settings must have been optimized to capture the sunset itself, so he focused instead on the scenery surrounding them. He didn't have any specific memory of the location, but like Wakanda, there was a tiny part of his brain that insisted this was important, and moreover, that he'd seen this particular vista before. Barnes chewed his lip a moment and slowly, so as to not risk startling Sam, reached into his pocket and pulled out the remaining phone, comparing the image on the lock-screen to the one Sam was presently sharing. The sky and reflections on the water weren't the same colors, and while the image on his own phone didn't have a dock or any people in it, the scenery across the horizon of the water bore more than a passing resemblance.

He'd already shown the image to Yama earlier, so he didn't see any harm in turning the screen to Sam and asking simply, "Here?"

Sam leaned in to look more closely at the image on Barnes's phone and Barnes did everything he could to remain remarkably still so he didn't risk startling him. The man clad in red, white, blue, and silver snorted lightly, "Yeah. Probably snapped a photo out at the end of the dock there."

After another heavy beat of silence between them Barnes looked back in his direction, hoping it might prompt him to share another image.

Sam got the message, "Okay then." He took another breath before he scrolled through some images and ran another potential offering by Yama. When she didn't object, he switched out one projected image for another. Though the same docks were still visible in the far background, a bright blue daytime sky shined overhead, and this time around, there were five clear figures facing the camera.

The image featured two bright-eyed children making silly faces as they stood in front of Sam, who was roughly in the center of the shot. To one side of him was a woman that had more than a passing resemblance to Sam, and… a slightly taller man with Barnes's face. Stranger yet, all of the figures were smiling: even the one with his blue eyes.

"I'm still not sure how to refer to all'a this," Sam admitted, "But that's him. That's the guy I was trying to get through to back there." His voice was heavy with emotion, "He was my partner. Is," he shook his head, "I dunno, it's complicated. Point is: this shit's confusing for me too. But I'm tryin' here, okay? But that's him. Out by the docks with Sarah and my nephews, Cass and AJ. AJ's the younger one. Loves science and astronomy. We got him a telescope for his birthday. Wasn't even my idea, but that somehow managed to get the two of us in trouble since he'd sneak outta bed at all hours so he could use it."

Barnes intensely studied the smiling faces projected in the air in front of him. Even an hour ago, he was certain he would have viewed the image as another potential play at manipulating him into a very particular set of beliefs, but now when he looked at Sam's somber expression, what he saw was pain, but also hope. He was no longer intent to force him to believe the implications of this image and ones like it, but it was clear that he hoped Barnes recognized it.

Unfortunately, he didn't.

He didn't know how to sort the images and information into the jumble of his mind, and asking questions carried its own risks. He felt as though he was left sorting out how to put up even the basic scaffolding of his life when there was no foundation there to begin with. There was so precious little that he clearly remembered, and most of what he did was coated with icy cold demands and bloodied hands. He didn't wish for much, but he wished he recalled smiling faces like these over the crystal clear fragments of the many faces he'd seen with the life drained from them.

"Hey…" Sam's voice was soft, "If this isn't the kinda stuff you want to see, that's okay. I have some landscapes and some road trip snapshots I can show you instead. I'm not trying to upset you, I just can't tell what you need, or what pieces you're searchin' for. Assuming you're searching in the first place. None of us have a clear view what's goin' on inside of your head right now, beyond the fact that it seems like there's a standing discrepancy on when you think it is."

"You said 2024," Barnes volunteered, reciting the year Sam had told him in the hallway of the Design Center during one of their early interrogation sessions. "Yesterday, Yama said it was Sunday, August 11th. That means today would be Monday, August 12th, 2024. She is more precise."

Barnes didn't miss that Yama grinned a little at that last bit and glanced up to Sam with the expression Nomble called 'gloating.'

"...And you believe that now?" Sam inquired skeptically.

"I don't have any easy way of confirming the calendar date and year," Barnes admitted, "but I no longer discount the possibility. The dates align with the ones that appeared across a number of communication devices, including ones I don't believe I was intended to have access to, such as our ship and your phone. They were consistent with one-another. Except the time. The time on your phone was slower than the others." He paused a moment before adding, "Your old phone. That one appears more accurate."

Sam's lips folded together in what Barnes calculated as feigned annoyance, "Well thanks for the upgrade, smartass." He let out a breath of air through the gap in his front teeth as he watched Yama continue her work. His expression seemed somehow lighter than it'd been a few moments before, "I'm glad we're finally on the same page with the date at least. That's a start."

Barnes raised the bruised fingers of his right hand to gesture at the projection above Sam's palm, "When was that photograph taken?"

Sam didn't immediately answer, but instead tapped something on his phone which prompted a data window to pop up in the corner of the display, which included information such as the ISO, f-stop, shutter speed, resolution, file format, file size, and identified it as being shot with "Sam's Expired iPhone, May it Rest in Pieces."

Barnes felt certain he saw Shuri smile slightly in response to the revised display, but he wasn't sure why anything in the data would have produced such a response.

---

Captured: June 22nd, 2024 at 1:54:32 PM EST (6:54:32 PM GMT)

Location: Delacroix, Louisiana, United States

---

A checkbox below helpfully noted it was "Synced and Backed Up."

"June 22nd, 2024," Sam repeated out loud, "It was a Saturday afternoon before we headed out to a cookout on the other side of town."

Barnes did his best to place that date within the framework of his mind, which in this particular case, wasn't all-that difficult, because the only thing he had mapped-out in "2024" so far were the events of the last day.

"Would you be willing to help us understand what periods you remember, Barnes?" Yama asked. "If you do not wish it, that is fine, or if you do not wish to share what you remember from those times, we would understand, but I think we remain confused on what parts of your memories are shadowed, and how deeply." She opted to momentarily turn off the medical device and stilled her hands as she looked up and met his eyes in an expression which he'd come to understand relayed that she sought to be candid rather than playful. That the words that followed were especially important, "I know it may be difficult to step outside of your concerns and into our own, but if we are speaking as friends, one worry that continues to linger within my mind is the very real possibility that if something happens again, and you wake up and do not recognize us, that you could seek to harm us. Not because you wish us ill, but because you do not know us. I accept that you did not remember me from before, but I fear what would happen if you no longer remembered me from now."

She held his eyes and didn't look away, as if she was intent to sit with him until it was clear he grasped the depths of her concern.

…Up until this moment, he hadn't.

Her expression wasn't cross or condescending, and did his best to step out of the tumultuous trainwreck of his own mind so he could try his best to grasp and truly understand what she was trying to get across to him. He'd assumed the only way he could be made to forget was through the nails and electric current of the mind-wipe machines in HYDRA's employ. But Yama seemed to be implying it could happen without the machines? That he could wake up and not know her? Not know any of them?

And he could hurt them again. Maybe even worse than before…

When he didn't immediately respond, Yama made a tight expression with her face and Shuri spoke up from a short distance behind Ayo, "Would you wish to see the footage from before you awoke in the lab yesterday so you might better understand what we saw?" She was quick to add, "You were fully awake, unmedicated, and not under any distress. You had come to us so we could try to find a way to uncover why you were having difficulty remembering certain things." She touched specific points along her temple and forehead, "I placed sensors along the skin here to record the underpinnings of the process and provide mild stimulation to induce rapid eye movement, but nothing more." She rolled a hand palm up, as if imploring him to consider her offer, "It is possible that viewing the footage might offer insight into unraveling what has happened, and how we might prevent the possibility of such confusion and unexpected violence from happening again."

Barnes found himself glancing first to Yama, Ayo, Nomble, and then Sam. Instinctively, he wanted to counter Shuri's claim of the prior day's events, because he clearly remembered where he was moments before waking up in that lab. He'd been on a rooftop in Washington D.C. where he'd just set a silent alarm and turned-in for the night. His last conscious thought had been passive annoyance at one of the local stray cats that insisted on walking across his chest before she curled up beside him to sleep, but he opted to ignore the undesirable behavior in favor of the strange sense of companionship her proximity and quiet purr brought him as she settled in and dozed off.

Even now, even knowing what he did, his mind couldn't make sense of how or why he'd been transplanted from one location to the next without anything in between. He wouldn't be any closer to understanding what had happened if he refused her offer outright, especially if there was a chance that viewing the recordings might prevent something like this from happening again. If it could potentially avoid anyone else from getting hurt… or killed, "Okay..."

"Okay," Shuri agreed, and as Sam closed down the projected photo of those five smiling faces over his outstretched palm, Shuri's fingers went to work and she pulled up a menu over one hand and tossed her fingers towards the shield, prompting a portion of it to alight with a frozen security-camera view of the inside of Shuri's lab. The lens captured the location he'd woken up in complete with a cryogenics chamber in the bottom left corner. He could clearly make out what appeared to be him in a chair while Sam and Nomble stood off to his left, Ayo and Shuri in front of him, and Yama just beside them.

He was not restrained in the chair. Not his legs, chest, or even arms. That's right, he hadn't been restrained this time, but he had another memory where he once was...

Odd.

"The recording is from yesterday, Sunday, August 11th, 2024," Shuri explained, "I have rewound the footage to about a minute and a half before the Event occurred, but if you watch the timecode, as best I can tell, the inciting incident appears to take place around timecode 00:13:47:05. I will play it back with audio." She met his eyes from across the barrier. They were focused, intent. They reminded him of her figure from his dreams, the one that treated him with kindness even after Ayo had spoken the code words and activated his compliance, "Are you ready?"

He frowned but nodded as she toggled a holographic button and the recording came to life over the side of the shield.

"We're almost done for today," the Shuri in the recording noted. She was wearing the same white and purple outfit she'd been when Barnes first saw her yesterday, "but I'd like to try one more approach. I want to remotely stimulate rapid eye movement, as you would normally have during deep REM sleep. Try to relax your eyes. It may be disorienting at first, but keep your eyes closed and let me know if it is at all uncomfortable. The intent is to generate the desired effect without making you conscious of the electrical pulses."

"Okay," the man in the chair responded, tensing.

"It will be mild," Shuri gently chided, "You do not need to be so stiff."

"Easy for you to say," the man in the recording grumbled.

Barnes was trying to figure out in real-time why the recording was so remarkably different from his memories of procedures he was subjected to under HYDRA, or even the dream he'd had that involved the Wakandans and Ayo speaking the code words. Part of it was no-doubt that he was not restrained, the women around him were not on high-alert, and even the dialogue between them was almost… cordial?

The figure in the chair wasn't simply brainwashed, he was willing. He was engaged in the procedure by choice.

Ayo's recorded figure shifted her weight and spoke up, "Our princess tested them on herself earlier this morning." She added, "Against my wishes."

The man in the chair responded by… smiling? The expression was almost… amused? But he was in a lab, how…? "Okay, just give me a countdown, I guess?"

Shuri sighed, exasperated, "Of course I was going to give you a countdown. I felt it appropriate to explain its purpose first. Now: three, two, one…"

The man in the chair closed his eyes, and a moment later, Shuri pressed a selection on a floating heads-up display projected in front of her. At the motion, Barnes felt compelled to check the timecode: they were still a little ways off from what Shuri claimed was the inciting incident.

The figure in the chair didn't flinch, but after a moment he noted, "That's... different..."

"Good? Bad? In what way?" Shuri inquired before adding, "Is it too strong?"

Barnes could tell she was in no way alarmed, but rather, she was genuinely concerned for his comfort.

"No, it's not too strong. It doesn't hurt. Just different. Hard to explain. Almost like stepping into water."

"I would like to tune it." Shuri pulled up a secondary display that looked to be an active monitor of his nail-free brain and moved it to one side of her while the used her other hand to adjust a dial on the nearby holographic hud. While those gathered around her watched Shuri, the recorded figure of Yama stepped closer, as if trying to read the new setting. "Is this okay?" Shuri inquired.

"Yeah, it's okay. The sensation is stronger now. Deeper?"

"Do you see anything?"

Sam's figure leaned to one side and crossed his arms. He didn't appear distressed, but he hardly looked comfortable.

"No, but it's like I'm aware of things in the shadows…"

Shuri pulled up a third display and readied a holographic keypad as she prepared to take notes, "Describe it to me." There was a pause before Shuri took a step forward and added, "If you can't see anything, can you feel anything with your senses?"

When the man in the chair didn't respond immediately, Barnes caught Ayo glance to Yama, and something in her expression shifted. It wasn't worry, but something infinitely more subtle.

Shuri repeated "Can you feel anything?"

His response came more quickly this time, "Sort of, but I don't know what to make of it. Like I'm in liquid?"

"Describe it for me," Shuri's fingers flew over her keypad as she took notes while monitoring the heads-up display of his brain.

"There are objects around me, I think. It's as if I can tell they're there by how the pitch of the space changes when I move and turn my head. I can feel them, but I can't see them. I'm not sure what they are, but there's a lot of them."

At that, Barnes felt his body still and his blood run cold. The Dark Place. He remembered that place from his dream the previous night, but he didn't remember this exchange. He found himself searching his mind for anything to latch onto.

"But can you guess based on their size and shape?" the recorded image of Shuri ever-patiently inquired.

There was a longer pause this time, and Barnes watched as Shuri regarded the readings before quickly returning her attention to the man in the chair.

Ayo shifted her weight from one foot to the other, as if one of her legs bothered her more than the other.

"I can't identify that object," the seated figure admitted, "But I can sense it's colder in one direction down here. I think."

At that moment, Barnes realized they must have been having two different conversations, because Shuri was asking broad questions about what he was seeing, whereas Barnes knew he must have keyed into something specific in the cold abyss.

He knew that cold.

"That object," he'd said.

"Do not go too far," Shuri's recorded voice cautioned him, "Remember we are trying to recollect a recent memory from the snows of Wakanda. Are there any things around you that remind you of that?"

The man in the chair didn't respond. He was trying to piece together what he was sensing in the Dark Place.

Shuri's attention turned to the scans that were live-updating from just beside her, and she squinted at them curiously.

Barnes's eyes flicked to the time-code: They were growing ever-closer to when Shuri said the Event took place…

"Does anything you sense connect you to a memory from the snows of Wakanda?" Shuri's voice was attentive, focused on him. The body language of the armed women surrounding him remained stable, though Ayo shifted her weight again, and Barnes saw something that looked like concern pass over her face.

Yama turned her attention from the scans to the figure in the chair as Shuri added, "Remember that you are in control. You are safe. You are not merely a passenger in what you see."

There was a longer pause this time, and Shuri turned as the readings from a nearby chart flashed and drew her attention.

As the timecode hit, the man in the chair suddenly opened his eyes, and they darted around as he took quick inventory of his surroundings, glancing left and then forward at the nearest threat in front of him: Ayo.

She was the first to sense it, whatever had shifted unseen, because she immediately pivoted her spear, brandishing it in his direction as she barked a single word in crisp, clear Wakandan.

"Ijoni!"

Soldier!

Barnes knew he was meant to watch the recording, but his attention immediately turned to where Ayo sat on the grass a short distance behind Yama. She kept her head forward, but her expression was heavy and pained, as if the sight of the recording had a way of causing her private distress.

His eyes darted back to the playback in time to see the figures come to life in a flurry of orchestrated motion. Yama stepped in front of Shuri and used her left hand to push the princess back behind her and away from where the man on the chair, the man who was undeniably him, launched himself and lunged for Ayo's spear before she could lean in for what he knew was intended to be a disabling move. When he took a moment to glance away from the footage to Sam, he realized Shuri'd paused it, and that she, and everyone else, were looking squarely at him.

He didn't realize he was clutching his hands together so tightly until Sam's soft, concerned voice called for his attention, "...I take it you remember that last bit? After the time code?"

Barnes nodded quickly, glancing back to the freeze-frame of the footage, which showed a moment caught in-time before things unraveled into utter chaos. Before so many people got hurt.

Before he could have killed one of them without ever realizing they weren't HYDRA.

Sam looked to his left, as if prompting for one of the women beside him to take it from here. It was Shuri that spoke up next, "Do you remember anything from the moments before the timecode? Anything at all?"

He frowned, aware that answering the question would mean sharing information that had the potential to be used against him in some way. The whole recording could be doctored, in fact, and this could all be some well-orchestrated ruse to pull sensitive data from him.

…But at the same time, he knew something was amiss. He couldn't explain why it happened, or how he'd gotten here, and he could do his best to try and connect the dots and put things together on his own, but would that actually lead him ever-closer to the truth? Or could these people, the ones that claimed to have been responsible for removing the nails as well as the code words actually offer some much-needed insight into his situation?

Barnes chose to momentarily ignore Sam and Shuri's questions in preference for his own, "What were you trying to accomplish? With the man in the chair?"

Shuri regarded him with significant interest and pressed something on the holographic display over her wrist that minimized the frozen recording displayed across a portion of the shield. Barnes got the impression she wanted to ensure they could see each other easily through the protective boundary lingering between them, "We had realized some of his memories were slipping away. I was searching for a way to allow him to regain access to them again, starting by seeking a way to re-establish a more recent memory we had logged in 2018 that involved the snows of Wakanda." Her head pivoted with renewed interest as she regarded him, "Do you recollect anything from that time or event?"

Barnes debated the necessity of a reply, but found himself willing to offer a simple and truthful, "No." He paused a moment before risking a reply that he knew had the potential to prompt more questions than answers, "But that wasn't where I was. Before the timecode. I was in Washington D.C."

The admittance got an immediate reaction out of Shuri, who, surprisingly, didn't debate or outright deny the merit of his claim, "Washington D.C.? Do you know when?"

"Thursday, January 23rd, 2014."

"Okay, that's something. Hold on," the wheels in Shuri's mind were already spinning into motion, and she punched something into her wrist and flicked her fingers to produce a banner-sized chart that illuminated the nearest wall of the energy shield itself.

It took him a moment to make sense of the assortment of heavily notated data and make sense of its intended purpose. It was a timeline, stretching from 1917 all the way on the left to 2024 on the right. A complex array of data nodes stretched across it from end-to-end. Some stood alone, while others were grouped in small pockets or heavy clusters. Various periods of time were blocked out in spans of vibrant colors. A period from 1945 to 2014 was cast in red, another from 2014 to 2016 marked in orange, and a period from 2018 to 2023 was toned in a vibrant purple.

Oddly, there were no data nodes present within the "purple" period.

His mind focused on the earliest number: 1917. It was the year that was listed as the date of birth in the wallet for James Buchanan Barnes, which shared the date of the same man from the Smithsonian.

The red period began in 1945, when the display at the Smithsonian claimed he had died in action.

It stretched all the way to 2014, when he'd managed to at last escape from HYDRA's clutches.

He didn't know what the rest meant. The colors, the plethora of data nodes, or why certain periods were clustered with information and other periods were laid bare. He didn't want to presume any of this timeline contained blatant, unquestioned fact when some part of him insisted it could just as easily be more manipulation.

But in the meantime, for the first time he could recall, he was met with the timeline of his life.

Shuri tapped a finger on her wrist and a data node within 2014 pinged brightly on the display, "The date you just said would land here, January 23rd, 2014, about a week and a half after the HYDRA Uprising." Her voice grew increasingly focused, as if she was self-aware of her own palpable enthusiasm.

"That's why you disagreed when I said we were both in Aniana a few days ago," Sam realized.

"I wasn't," Barnes was quick to defend.

"Your mind drew from the last date you recalled in early 2014 and nothing after, but the man early in the recording, before the Event seen in the timecode," Shuri clarified, "he was. He traveled with Sam to Symkaria prior to returning to Wakanda three days ago on Friday, August 9th, 2024." Oddly, Barnes found he was no longer irritated by her proposing theories aloud. Something about her tone was strangely encouraging, as if she sought to meet him with understanding and connect with him anew, "I do not intend to press you for details, but do you feel your memories before that date in 2014 are fully-formed? Is there a cut-off point you are aware of?"

Barnes frowned as he regarded the timeline in front of him, debating how much more clarity he wanted to contribute, but realizing all-the-same that he was still struggling to piece things together in any semblance of a linear, or chronological manner. "HYDRA issued a wipe followed by enrichment on January 11th, 2014." He let his words hang in the air before he shifted uncomfortably and added, "That was as far back as I could remember for sure when I woke up in that recording from that lab."

Shuri scooted herself a touch closer to the timeline between them as the other people around them watched their exchange, "Did you recall if you dreamt at all during those dates in 2014?"

"Some," he admitted. At first, that was all he was considering offering, but for whatever reason, when he met her eyes, he was reminded of the claim she had in some way helped remove the nails and the claws of the code words, and he found himself compelled to add, "But last night…"

"Last night…?" she prompted with eager eyes that yearned to understand, to help.

His mouth twisted as he struggled to explain things, trying to be mindful not to share any critical details that might be able to be used against him, "It was as if I remembered more there in the morning than when I'd gone to sleep, but…" He frowned, searching for a way to describe it with words, "Like this." He curled his right hand and made a gesture with his injured right hand that was pure muscle memory. It produced a blue indicator node on the timeline that expanded to overlap the period listed from January 11th, 2014 when he was last wiped by HYDRA, to January 23rd, 2014 when he fell asleep on a rooftop in Washington D.C. and somehow woke up here in a lab in Wakanda in 2024.

He couldn't explain how he knew the gestures to interact with the digital readout on the timeline anymore than he could explain how he knew how to pilot the jet yesterday, but he could sense a moment of surprise on the faces of the people around him all the same. He forced himself through the pain as he touched his thumb and forefinger together and then spread them apart, expanding the initial range he'd noted so that it spanned all the way back to 1950 as well as forward a few months into April of 2014.

Initially, he'd chosen to color the whole sixty-four year period in blue, but upon closer inspection, he realized that it wasn't expressing the same sentiment of the twelve day period Shuri had established to represent the period Barnes lived and clearly remembered. In response, he adjusted his fingers, and instead re-colored the period between 1950 and 2013 with a cross-hatched blue pattern, leaving the period from then until April 23rd, 2014 solid blue. Once he was satisfied, he looked back to Shuri, who'd taken the initiative to scoot even closer along the grass so she could more easily inspect their revised timeline.

Everyone was watching.

Shuri regarded it curiously, but chose not to debate his additions. With a flourish of one hand, she gestured to the solid blue timeframe between 2013 and April of 2014, "Upon waking from your last sleep, here on the mountain last night, you remembered both backwards and forwards, from where you were in Washington D.C. in late January of 2014?" She waited for him to nod a response before she continued, and her hand traced back the other direction, "And then here," She pointed to January 11th, 2014, the date of his last wipe under HYDRA, "Upon waking, you were able to see through to the time before your last wipe? Your memories no longer forcibly stopped there, and you could at once recollect events all the way back through to…" she trailed off as she regarded the earliest sections cast in solid blue, "...Late 2013?"

Some part of Barnes was quick to caution him that this entire discussion pressed too close to any number of potentially dangerous topics, but he felt compelled to nod again.

"Overnight, you went from clearly remembering roughly a week and a half of time in early 2014 to nearly six months, give or take." Shuri reconsidered the timeline again, "Why the pattern here?" she asked, referencing the blue cross-hatching pattern that spanned from 1950 to late 2013, "What does it represent to you?"

He flinched and adjusted his jaw uncomfortably, "That period is spotty. Not fully formed. Not always dated, but that's the earliest year I remember seeing or overhearing." Barnes frowned, regarding first the crosshatched period listed in blue, then the period in solid blue, and finally the giant swaths of the timeline on either side that apparently represented periods he might've very well lived, but didn't remember.

"Do you recall keeping journals?" Ayo inquired out of the blue.

His attention immediately shot to her, confused at how she could have possibly discovered them. He'd always kept them hidden. How could they or anyone else have known.

"You once told us you kept journals after HYDRA," she was quick to clarify, as if sensing his flare of distress, "That you used them to log what you remembered and saw in your dreams in the hopes you could piece what you saw together into something recognizable. You wanted to ensure you were not set back at the beginning again if HYDRA was able to find you and wipe you again, back when you were still poisoned by their nails and the pull of the code words."

"We think we might have located them," Shuri volunteered, "Some, at least. They were missing since 2016, so we do not yet know the state they are in or how complete they are."

"If you kept journals during your time in Washington D.C.," Ayo realized, "they may be among the contents. It might corroborate our claims regarding at least some of the dates."

Barnes glanced back to the timeline, noting the area in orange that spanned from 2014 to 2016 and wondering what that period represented. But if they had somehow located the journals that he wrote, that would mean…

"Do you remember anything after April of 2014?" Shuri gently pressed.

He twisted his face slightly at that question, and while he was reminded he was under no obligation to answer her, he found himself compelled to do it anyway. At least this once, "There is another memory, from last night, but I don't know when it was dated from. But it was here in Wakanda. I only remember a few hours surrounding an event in the same lab from the recording." He found his attention floating from Shuri to Ayo uncertainly, "You four were there with another warrior woman, but not Sam." He looked uncomfortably to Ayo, addressing her more tentatively, "You said the words. I think for the first time." His voice grew fainter still, "They worked."

In response, Ayo's own fingers moved as she smoothly added a blinking white indicator to a date in late 2016. Her voice was heavy, "It was a date we all remember. A challenging day," she said simply, her voice somber, distant. "The warrior you recall is Tasdi. She is no longer with us. She gave her life with many others in the Battle of Wakanda, in 2018." Ayo kept her eyes focused on the date a moment longer before meeting his expression unflinchingly as she sought out clarification, "That memory from Wakanda was new to you last night, upon waking on the mountain? That was why you saw us with new eyes?"

He nodded, looking at the orange data node Shuri'd added from 2016 and chewing his lip as he debated the next question, "The Dark Place that… he… mentioned before I woke up. …When was that memory from?"

Shuri shook her head, "So far as we know, it was not grounded in memory, but rather it was a sensory manifestation of sorts. A waking dream. He was meant to be in control. To guide his actions within it so that he could try and discover that memory he was seeking from the snows of Wakanda in 2018 that had slipped away through his fingers in the years since." She frowned, "But, I do not know what he saw, or what happened within his mind that might have prompted such a decided shift." Shuri's eyes regarded his, and he saw her eyebrows furl together in thought. In that moment, he felt certain she somehow knew he was holding back, but that she sought to draw him out, "...Have you seen that Dark Place?"

At first, he didn't say anything, and his eyes drifted between his hands: to the left one, the one that had glowed unexplainably in the darkness, and the right, that had been clutching something his eyes couldn't quite focus on in his own dream. He struggled to make sense of that experience alongside the other visit he was just now piecing together where he could see nothing at all.

Had there been others?

It was Ayo that spoke next, "You were there? The night before, on the mountain, when you startled awake?" Her words weren't an accusation, but she made a slow motion from her left hand to her right, indicating her palm, "You were panicked at first, alarmed and confused by the sight of your hands, as if something was wrong with them."

Shuri glanced between the two of them, but said nothing as Ayo continued, "You do not need to speak of what you saw if you do not wish to. I assumed you woke from nightmares, not that you might've glimpsed the same place as…"

"I hadn't remembered being there before," Barnes clarified, trying to sort out his thoughts as quickly as he was speaking them aloud. "But overnight, when things… expanded… it was almost like… I was on the other side with the man in the recording… in the Dark Place, but that it was me there."

"You saw what he saw?" Ayo pressed as she sought to understand what he meant.

"He didn't see anything," Barnes answered slowly before cautiously adding, "But I did."

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I had the pleasure of working with Alilyushka (Alilyushka on Twitter) on an illustration she created for this chapter, as well as a little something of my own. 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 Barnes and Nombles hands and a cup of tea reflecting the stars overhead, by me (KLeCrone)]

When I'm writing each chapter, I customarily expand upon my outline, then write and edit three drafts of the text before finally getting to the point of coding and posting each chapter. One quiet moment that really stood out to me in this chapter was when Nomble helped Barnes with his cup of tea, and I kept coming back to it, imagining what it might have looked like from Barnes's perspective until… I decided to sit down in one 6.5 hour session and just paint it myself. :)

I love the remarkable kindness of this particular story beat, and the idea of the stars reflecting in the tea helped to inspire the title of this particular chapter. The sentiment was a bit like the idea that stars, like people, are separate entities, but arranged in a certain way, they can be a part of something bigger, like constellations and asterisms. And currently in the story, I feel like these six characters are starting to finally come back into an all-new alignment with one-another, but the shape of what it forms is still yet to be determined...

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[Chapter Art, featuring Barnes in the Dark Place by Alilyushka]

I had the pleasure of working with Alilyushka (Alilyushka on Twitter) on an illustration she created for this chapter. I thought it would be wonderful to revisit a moment from what "Barnes" remembers seeing in his most recent dream…

Please check out her Twitter and Tumblr accounts to see more of her fantastic art!

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Author's Remarks:

This chapter somehow turned into the longest chapter of WotWW yet, but there was a *lot* to cover in the aftermath of the last chapter's events!

A quick shout-out to Fictitious (Ao3) for helping point out some grammar foibles for this and other chapters, and for helping me make this fic as polished as possible. :)

- Sam and the Code Words - I think in a way, Sam's kind of all of us who spent years wondering exactly *how* that Winter Soldier stuff even worked, only to see it play out on screen and… realize just how truly awful all that must've been. :(

- Yama - I deeply appreciate Yama's directness, and I'd like to think she has a very particular sort of bravery that I wish I could manifest myself at-will. Her candor on speaking her own fears aloud, including that she worries Barnes might forget them again and could therefore be compelled to act against them again is… a horrific possibility he hadn't considered. That one comment of hers was a very particular moment for him, because it gives him a deeper reason to want to try to figure out what's going on, since he feels regret for hurting these people, and certainly doesn't want it to happen again.

- Past Barnes and Sam Playing Cat-and-Mouse - So we never really got to see this period on-screen in the MCU, but my *goodness* is it a ripe tree of possibilities! While there are a lot of different ways to imagine it might have been, I love the idea that while Sam went searching for "Barnes," the covert assassin always managed to stay at least one step ahead of him. Yet over the course of months and eventually years, it became clear to Sam that this guy wasn't trying to kill him, just shake him. And I am utterly amused by the idea that part of Barnes's (and eventually Bucky's) aggravation concerning Redwing and drones in general might have manifested during this period, but that even then, he'd do stuff like duct tape the drone's wings and disable him rather than destroying him outright.

- Barnes and the Strays - I'd be lying if I told you I wasn't still hoping to illustrate something from this period of his life at some point. Just the idea of him leaving food out for them in one location, and some of the cats tracking him down to nuzzle or sleep against him… especially when he's "on-duty"… it's adorable in my head.

- Nomble and Barnes - I love reaching points in the story where I can have callbacks to prior scenes with these characters, and there is something special here with Nomble and her way of stepping through not only her own emotions, but how she seeks to connect and reconnect with others. She was the first of this group of Wakandans to "forgive" Bucky way back after they shared tea together (bearing in mind he was the one that approached her with those flowers of grief/mourning), and I felt like it was appropriate for her to return to the theme of regret and forgiveness, to be clear with him where they stand, and that she holds no ill will towards him. In Nomble's heart, her "White Wolf" was really like a brother to her, so even in her interactions with Barnes now, she chooses to view him in a similar light, even now. Perhaps a bit like if he suffered from dementia, Alzheimer's, or similar.

- Barnes and the Past - You may have picked up that Barnes hasn't explicitly said "sorry" to anyone yet. I'd like to think part of that is because he's trying to sort out everything he's feeling and what's happened, and because in his mind, saying "sorry" is vastly insufficient for, well… *all* of it.

I suppose another way to think about it is that he knows a lot of awful stuff was done to him, and if someone from HYDRA located him and said "sorry," it wouldn't just magically make it all better. He's also aware that though he was manipulated to act under HYDRA, he's hurt a *lot* of people, including, apparently, people that were genuinely trying to help him. And in his own mind, "I'm sorry" doesn't begin to scratch the surface on what he's feeling about all that, or make it all better… :(

- Shuri and Ayo and Barnes - It was wonderful to reach a point where the reader as well as the other characters are finally being offered further clarity on where Barnes is coming from in all of this, and while he isn't really willing to share a lot of specifics in terms of *what* exactly he remembers (particularly regarding his time with HYDRA), just having a better context for the timeframe has got to be *incredibly* helpful for everyone involved.

…That Dark Place, though…

Thank you once again for all the kind words while I've been continuing to deal with the fallout from these major household plumbing and construction issues. It means a lot to me to be met with so much enthusiasm, support, and understanding. So just, thank you for being a light in the darkness, and for keeping my creative muses alive with such wonderful comments, reactions, and conversations. ❤

I hope you're as excited for what's ahead as I am! :)

Written to the album "After the Rain Has Fallen," by Yonder Dale.