I had the pleasure of working with MaxKennedy24 ("maxkennedy24" on Twitter) on an illustration he created to accompany a scene of the "Dark Place." Please check out this chapter on Archive of Our Own to see the art and link to his social media pages see more of his incredible art!
Once again: *huge* thanks to him for bringing this scene to to life!
Simply search for: "KLeCrone Ao3 Winter of the White Wolf"
Winter of the White Wolf
Chapter 57 - Subtractive Shadows
"That's what I saw on the other side. The lab in Symkaria. They were trying to make more of me."
In the seconds after Barnes spoke, the people surrounding him collectively opened their mouths to ready up a deluge of follow-up questions, but the emphatic way Sam frantically waved his hands insisted his own words ought to take precedence.
This definitely wasn't the reaction Barnes had sought out. He'd clearly said too much.
"Wait, hold up, hold up," Sam held out his hands in front of him in much the same way Barnes recalled seeing some individuals attempt to calm wary stray animals in Washington D.C. He wasn't sure why Sam felt a need to direct similar gestures towards him, but something in the back of his mind reminded him that Steve had remarked on more than one occasion that Sam 'talked with his hands.' Maybe this was actually an extension of that? Was he fluent in another silent language Barnes wasn't familiar with?
"'On the other side?'" Sam repeated, "You mean on the other side of that weird wall of black water you were talking about? In your dream?"
Barnes chewed his lip, deliberating how much further he was willing to let this conversation progress before he cut it off. He was well aware it risked walking a fine through and between topics that could be dangerous in the wrong hands.
Were they unaware of the lab? The experiments? The other soldiers?
He pushed his own questions aside as he focused on Sam's relatively simple inquiry, "Yes but… that's not the right word."
"The right word?"
"'Dream,'" Barnes specified, reminding himself that none of the people here were aware of what he'd seen and felt in the Dark Place, and how it was different from other things he'd bore witness to while asleep. The nuance felt important for him to pin down, because if they misinterpreted it as merely a passing vision, it potentially underrepresented the underlying significance of what he'd experienced.
Like the unseen object he'd clutched in his hand, it was somehow important. He was sure of it.
And for a reason he could not explain, he no longer found himself bristling at the thought of trying to seek out clarity with the people around him so they could better understand one another. As direct as Yama's request had been, there was undeniable value in feeling understood, "I don't think it was a 'dream' in how you mean it." He frowned, trying to search for something closer to his intended meaning, but he struggled to locate a suitable term. His eyes briefly glanced to Shuri, remembering something she'd said earlier, "You called it a 'waking dream.' That's closer, but it's still not it." From just in front of him, Yama took the growing conversation as a signal that she should return to tending to his injured foot.
As if sensing his desire to pursue the topic, Ayo inclined her head towards him, putting aside whatever questions she'd considered asking him about the lab in Symkaria in preference to building a bridge between them, "Then let us form a common language that is more suitable." She relaxed her shoulders and patiently placed her hands atop her lap, "What is the thread of 'dream,' that does not weave together with your intention?"
He rolled the thought over in his mind until he finally found a nuance he could articulate, "It implies observing. When I was in the Dark Place, I felt more… in control. Like I wasn't only a passive observer."
Shuri leaned forward, tracking their conversation. It was clear from her body language that she was chomping at the bit to interject her voice, but she restrained herself while Ayo carefully considered his words, "Did you feel intention behind the actions you chose?"
"I think so?"
"From where did those intentions originate? Did another guide you, or did you guide yourself?"
"No, it was just me," He frowned, trying to cleanly separate 'their friend's' visit from his own, "It was completely dark. I was disoriented, and I wanted to figure out where I was. None of you were there. But I remembered you. That I'd been here on the mountaintop. I think that's why I knew it wasn't a memory. It was something else."
"Could you feel your body?"
"Yes."
"So you sought out understanding of where your body was?"
"At first," Barnes admitted. "I knew I was standing on sand or something like it. It was almost as if I was under water, but I wasn't struggling to breathe." It felt as if it was second nature to talk with her like this, at this easy, unhurried pace between them. Their dialogue was natural and easy in coming, like when they spoke with their hands in the wake of his dreams from the night before.
Was this what Yama had spoken of when he'd overheard her once tell Ayo that their friend had called her his 'indawo enamanzi amaninzi?'
His 'Oasis?'
Ayo's words carried no demands with them, no insistence for compliance. And though a part of him argued they weren't well-acquainted and he should remain guarded, here in the moment, out in the flickering darkness of the mountain and the sage-scented air, he felt oddly grounded, like it was alright to let her guide the conversation.
"Were you afraid, when you could not see your body or that which surrounded you?"
Afraid? It was a strange question, but he indulged her, "No. It felt surreal, but not dangerous. I would have known if I was being watched."
"From the darkness?"
He understood why the proclamation made no sense, but he felt oddly sure of it, "There were objects around me, but they were benign. Still. Waiting." He paused before adding, "Well. Sort of. The wall of water didn't move from one place to another. It stayed where it was, but as I approached it, I could tell it got colder. Like the air coming out of an open freezer."
"Could you see it? Before you touched it."
When he didn't immediately answer, she clarified, "You said it was dark. Am trying to imagine stepping with you on how you sensed the wall of water if you could not see it."
He thought about that a moment, trying to recall if it had been in his dream or their friend's dream when he'd first sensed it, and how. "I could tell something was there from the cold it was emitting, but it was more than that. When I turned my head around, I could get a general sense of if anything was nearby. Not details. Just broad strokes, like if a general direction had objects closeby or far away."
"And was the wall of water closeby when you first noticed it?"
"Yeah. Just a few steps away. I could feel the cold from that direction on my face and chest. When I reached out to touch it, my fingers didn't sink through. It was almost like it pushed back. But I felt it in my fingers, and the resistance in my shoulder. I didn't push hard, but it pushed back."
Ayo tilted her head considerately, "Why did you seek to touch it?"
He considered that, trying to remember where the underlying instinct had come from, "I wanted to understand where I was. What was beyond the wall."
"Did it surround you? Cut you off?"
He thought about the wall of water stretching tall and off to either direction, but he didn't feel like it cut him off. Much like he was oddly certain there were no antagonistic creatures lurking in the shadows for him, he felt he knew the wall didn't trap or cage him, "No. It was only on one side."
"And before you touched it, you held something in your right hand. Something you could not see or identify?"
Barnes nodded.
"Why did you not set it down?"
"It was important." he answered without hesitation. But upon second thought, he realized it hadn't even occurred to him to set it down. He just knew it'd been in his hand, and it needed to remain there. He felt compelled to ensure it was safe. Protected.
"But you could not see it, or identify what it was?"
"Even after I'd touched my other hand to the wall of water and the arm started to glow, I couldn't make it out. I don't think it wanted to be seen," he frowned, wishing for not the first time that he had a better explanation.
"But you were actively seeking knowledge, understanding, while in a state of dreaming? Of Ukuphupha?"
He considered her words, letting them settle on his mind. The term was a better fit, more active, "Yeah. Ukuphupha. That's closer."
"Ohcoo-fou-fah?" Sam gave the pronunciation his best effort.
"OO-coo-foo-fah," Ayo gently corrected, patiently enunciating each syllable with decided emphasis.
By the smile on Yama's face, it was clear she'd considered offering a smart comment, but instead she opted to continue diligently working on Barnes's foot. It was astounding how little bruising remained.
He found his attention shift back to his left hand, recalling the strange, ethereal golden glow that had emanated from inside of it only after he'd touched the fingers of his left hand to the wall of water, and then ran those same fingers along the enigmatic object in his right palm.
Why had his arm started glowing then?
"So while in your Ukuphupha, you felt as if your actions were your own?" Ayo asked.
"Yes, but only on my side of the wall of water. I didn't impact anything on the other side."
"Was the water still?"
Barnes cocked his head at the question, unsure what she was getting at, but he didn't doubt there was underlying reason to her questions, "Still?"
Ayo nodded, "You said it was a wall of water. Was it falling water, like a waterfall? Or like the surface of a frozen pool or choppy surface of a flowing river? You said you touched it, felt it. Could you make out what it was like, and if it changed in response to your touch?"
He considered that, doing his best to recollect any details he could, "It wasn't falling water, like rain, and it wasn't moving in a certain direction, like a river. It was… more like a body of water turned sideways?" It sounded strange to describe that way, but it was the closest comparison he had, "I don't know if it was still before I touched it, but it might've rippled and reacted when I did. Like a pebble tossed into a pond." He thought harder, "Yeah, I think I felt it waver after I made contact."
"And when you saw it again in the light of your arm?"
"It was churning. Like it'd been disturbed." He frowned, correcting, "because I'd disturbed it."
"But you could see through it?"
"For just a second. When the light hit it just right."
Sam's voice reentered the conversation, "...And you saw a lab from Symkaria on the other side?"
Barnes felt his jaw tense at the question. He'd been the one to admit to it, after all, but he wasn't sure how much more he was willing to say on the subject, "It wasn't just the lab," he corrected, "I…. before then, I hadn't been able to see what came before the last time I'd been wiped, back in Washington D.C. Then I suddenly could. I saw a lot all at once. More than just that lab."
There was a momentary pause before Ayo spoke again, "I will not ask you for the details of what you saw. I would hear it if you wish to speak of it, but only if it is what you desire."
Barnes felt some part of him ease up at the reassurance that she hadn't planned to press him for details of just what he'd seen behind the wall of water. Oddly, the fact that the people around him weren't trying to push him for clinical details had a way of making him more willing to share the broad strokes. The bits that were about the haunting strangeness of the experience itself, rather than… what he'd glimpsed on the other side. "I think they might've been pieces of memories," he confirmed without feeling the need to delve into further minutiae about them, "but some of what I saw were more… impressions of people or places, without the fine details. A lot of it was obscured, like whatever was in my hand."
"Impressions?"
He tried his best to recall what he'd seen and a suitable way to describe it, which was harder than it sounded considering the whole experience wasn't exactly grounded in reality, "It was like the surface of the water was moving, and behind it were shadowed forms. People, I think. Some were standing still, others were moving. It was just a moment. Like one pulse of a strobe, so I couldn't make out much. But when it happened, I felt like some of them were important, like the object in my hand, but I don't know why. Most were indistinguishable from one another, others… blended?" Barnes thought a moment before cautiously adding, "...I think there may have been more panels of living water behind and between them too. It was hard to make out. The distortions were more pronounced further back, and the light only reached so far. Where it didn't touch, it was complete darkness."
His words weren't a misdirect, but the pieces he could make out were difficult to make sense of. Some dovetailed into memories he'd glimpsed while sleeping or awoke remembering. Others were fragments so small it was like trying to form solid shapes out of shards of colored glass. Or perhaps it was like trying to identify figures and forms only from the shaded shadows they cast behind them?
But the light that flickered and fell over faces and wrapped its way around poignant pieces stayed with him long after the illumination faded and his world was cast back into darkness
He saw Alexander Pierce reaching out to strike the bruised and battered face of a scraggly-haired figure with a chrome arm.
Beyond a deeper panel of water, he'd caught sight of a blond-haired scientist in a vest reading out of a red book. He used his thumb and index finger to adjust his glasses while a chained figure struggled and strained the floor nearby.
Light darted over and around the corners of medical labs, munitions facilities, shipping crates, and more figures and forms than he could just barely separate from the darkened world around them.
And over and over, he saw himself, or someone like him, screaming.
One moment Barnes was there, searching his mind for clues, forcing himself to pull at any detail he could in a feeble attempt to commit them to memory even as they continued to fade. The next moment, he was aware of slow movement from just beside him.
That's right. He was on the grass. Here. Now. Out on the mountain. The distant darkness around him was due to the fact the sun had already dipped below the horizon, leaving behind a cascade of bright stars. The flickers of light were oddly grounding, like the people sitting around him that were themselves illuminated by the ever-present warmth of nearby fires. As he came back into the present, he found himself looking at his left hand and wondering if he'd been able to sense temperature with it while in a state of Ukuphupha.
He wasn't sure. Maybe? He couldn't sense it now. Only light pressure.
Sam repositioned his legs and shifted his weight as if he were hellbent on finding a more comfortable pose. As he did, Barnes got the impression he was trying to sort out what was altogether appropriate to ask in the wake of his exchange with Ayo, "...You said they were trying to make more of you…?"
It wasn't a smooth segue, but the question was courtesy of Barnes's own admittance. He snorted lightly, "They were always trying to make more of me, but I don't remember that far back. To when it began." He considered his next words carefully before raising his head to meet Sam's gaze, "...Was it like they wrote up about Steve, in the museum?"
The man beside him sucked in a breath of air between his teeth and licked his lips before he responded, "I don't think any of us know for sure. Steve's… history, if you want to call it that, is better documented. On account of the serum they gave him. You said you read about that though, right?"
"He was a Super Soldier."
Sam nodded, "Yeah. As the story goes, he went from 95 pounds soaking wet to well, you saw. But I didn't know him way-back-when. All that early stuff was before my time. But you didn't get what he did, if that's what you're asking. At least not from the same people."
Shuri smoothly stepped in, "Our friend believed he was forced to receive one or more doses of a serum produced by HYDRA in Austria after he was captured in Azzano, Italy."
"...I don't remember that." Barnes glanced to the original timeline Shuri'd projected along the wall of the shield surrounding him. As she made gestures with her hands, a data node within 1943 pulsed once and illuminated.
"It was about seven years before the cut-off you delineated in 1950. Before the earliest memory you think to possess."
Barnes couldn't recall any memories of undergoing anything like what he read about regarding Steve and how he'd gone from relatively short and slender build to someone far more suited to armed combat. How did that even work, anyway? The few photos he'd seen of "James Buchanan 'Bucky' Barnes" prior to his involvement in the war didn't imply he was similarly frail or suffered from the numerous ailments that plagued Steve Rogers before he'd enlisted in the army and been given a treatment to enhance his mind and body.
What had he been like before all that? Before he'd been changed.
What about his 'Bucky?' What had he been like?
Barnes didn't know. Maybe that had been wiped clean, or maybe it'd never been him to begin with. Either way, before a certain point, there was simply… nothing. Nothing at all. Not even glimmers or fragments. No sights, sounds, or smells. He didn't know how or when he'd been conscripted to work for HYDRA, if it'd originally been voluntary or thrust upon him, or how old he'd been.
But he did remember all the needles and blood draws he was repeatedly subjected to when he was under their nefarious care. All the discussions about how they needed to unlock the secrets in his blood. To enhance him and make more of him. To win their wars, topple their enemies, and systematically achieve their objectives one line item, one mission at a time.
He didn't understand why they did what they did. He only knew he was to remain still as they cruely probed at his skin and took vial after vial of blood, sometimes for days at a time. He didn't know it then, but they often used his waking periods outside of thaws as an opportunity to run further experiments on him, to push and prod the limitations of his flesh. How much blood could they take before he passed out? How long could he hold his breath? How much pain could he endure and still remain upright and cognizant enough to obey commands? They were insistent all of it was not only in his best interests of those around him, but that the world benefited from his efforts. Think of everyone he was protecting. All the immeasurable good he was doing. His actions helped HYDRA give the world the freedom it deserved.
That's what he'd been told.
That's what he'd been made to believe, so they could shape him into the Fist of Hydra. The perfect soldier.
The Asset.
And once they were satisfied with his performance? Then they would wipe him again and again and again. Until all that was left was static in his mind, coupled with blindness that the people around him were acting in anything but his best interests.
But each time, they always wanted more. More blood. More core samples from his brain. More tissue samples so they could test and investigate how his body healed and the various ways they could stagger its progress through chemicals and force.
Always more pieces of him.
Barnes wasn't sure how much the people around him knew about any of that, but from their words, he'd gotten the distinct impression they knew some of the broad strokes, at least. After the dreams and memories from the night before, he also felt oddly certain they weren't a part of the longstanding horrors that had been done to his mind and body. He believed the distaste they'd shown towards HYDRA and its operations wasn't simply a performance meant to sway his own sympathies.
That being as it was, it was strange to be in the dark on what knowledge they potentially had concerning his life, especially when he was still missing so much.
Sam's expression folded in on itself uncomfortably, "Look. Unless you know something we don't, as far as I know, we don't have any record of HYDRA succeeding with… whatever they were doin' with you beyond training you to be their pocket assassin. But I'll be the first to admit they were frighteningly good at coverin' up their slimy trails, so who knows what they might've managed behind-the-scenes." He sucked in a breath between his front teeth, "The only bit of relevant intel I can think of is that HYDRA got their hands on more serum, back in the early 90s, somethin' like the stuff Howard Stark whipped up for Steve." He paused heavily, "You… remember anything about that?"
By the expression Sam sent his way, Barnes felt there was an implication that he should, "When?"
Sam swallowed hard as he glanced to Shuri and she offered tentatively, "...December 16th, 1991."
The date resonated somewhere in Barnes's mind, but it didn't draw up many concrete details. Only incomplete flashes of images. Voices. The roar of a motorcycle and the crackle of bone. Bags of a blue liquid.
"...Sergeant Barnes…?"
"Sanction and extract."
"Howard?!"
"No witnesses."
"Howard!"
Then… nothing.
He felt certain there were more connections to be made, but it was as if they'd been washed away to somewhere just out of reach.
Some portion of his thoughts must have shown on his face, but neither Sam or Shuri pressed him for details. Did they know something he didn't? Shuri took a deep breath before she spoke again, "HYDRA used what they stole to make more Super Soldiers. Precious little is known about them, other than they met their demise while suspended in a cryogenic freeze in a HYDRA facility in Siberia in 2016."
Barnes frowned. He knew exactly who they were talking about, "They're dead?"
Sam's expression was grim, "Yeah. Someone else got to them. Someone who doesn't like Super Soldiers." He paused before cautiously adding, "...You… remember them?"
Barnes could sense something in the air shift at Sam's question. In particular, Ayo and Shuri's expressions turned tighter, and more focused.
"Pieces," Barnes admitted, glancing back down to his hand, "They were volunteers… until they weren't. The other Winter Soldiers… HYDRA couldn't control them. Not entirely, but enough. They wanted to know why so they could fix them. Make them more like me."
"We believe some of our Hatut Zeraze once crossed paths with them. Our War Dogs," Ayo offered cryptically.
Barnes frowned, not feeling compelled to ask for clarification or further details. It was unlikely they'd survived the encounter.
"...Were there others?" Shuri asked cautiously, "Other Super Soldiers? Or did you mean to imply HYDRA attempted to make more, but with no success until those HYDRA operatives were given the stolen serum in 1991?"
Barnes adjusted his jaw, aware they were treading ever-closer to increasingly dangerous topics. There'd been others. They weren't like the other Winter Soldiers, but they were close enough.
Close enough that he wondered what'd happened to them, assuming it really was 2024. Could any of this be related, or was it just a coincidence or ploy to pull further information out of him?
As if sensing Barnes's lack of interest in explicitly responding to Shuri's question, Sam stepped in, "Folks've been trying to make more of the serum for years now to varying degrees of success. A lot of the sordid history surrounding it's pretty damn awful, and that's only the bits and pieces I know, which I'm sure doesn't hold a candle to what you've seen and experienced firsthand." He rocked back on his hips as he folded his arms over his chest, "The fact of the matter is: There hadn't been much of a whisper about Super Soldiers again until earlier this year," his frown deepened as he added, "Most've 'em ended up dead, including the person responsible for making more of the serum."
"...So you're after the serum, too?"
Sam snorted, "No," the hint of a half-smile on his face was a heavy indicator he wasn't lying, "We're just after the person who's been killing people in Symkaria, because our best guess is they might be a Super Soldier too. Before our mission took a pitstop here in Wakanda, the hope was we could figure out who was responsible for the hits, and ideally we'd be able to take 'em in before they could hurt anyone else. After that? I was hoping we could find out where they'd sourced the serum from so we could cut it off before it got into the wrong hands. But we didn't get that far."
"You wanted to take him alive?" He said the next part out loud before he could stop himself, "So you could make more serum?"
Sam's eyebrows pulled together and he shook his head, "I know we don't know each other well, but no. That stuff's had an awful history, along with the people that were set on brewin' it come hell or high water. And with all respect to someone who's been on the receiving end of a lot of bullshit masked in good intentions? As far as I'm concerned, the less of it that's out there for people to abuse, the better."
Barnes found he couldn't necessarily disagree with the statement, "If who and what you were pursuing were in Symkaria, why did you leave?"
Firelight danced off of Sam's eyes and the silver flourishes of his red, white, and blue costume, "Our friend wasn't havin' any luck remembering being in Symkaria before. Or more specifically: he felt like he'd been at some point, but couldn't remember any of the particulars. That's when he reached out to Ayo. He was hoping maybe she or someone on her end remembered him mentioning it, or might've logged something useful about it."
Barnes's attention shifted to Ayo and Shuri, as if awaiting their response.
"I did a thorough search through both his logs and my notes regarding Symkaria and its cities, but there was remarkably little. You–" Shuri quickly corrected herself, "–Our friend, hadn't made mention of active operations there, but it was possible he might've passed through at some point during his tenure with HYDRA." She tilted her head, "We had spent enough time together, done enough work, that our assumption was we had at least mapped out the broad strokes of his activities over the years, even those that occurred after he escaped from HYDRA. But if you feel certain you now recall a lab held in Symkaria, now I find myself questioning if your captors were somehow able to bury deeper secrets so they would not be accessible without their express permission. Beyond secrecy, I do not know what their purpose would be, or if there is any relevance to Sam's case or any other, but I do find it strange that the topic had not surfaced until recently."
Barne's own memories of it weren't what they were calling 'recent,' but that didn't mean there wasn't more he was missing. "You said he was having trouble with his memories. Were you able to help him?"
A wave of pronounced frustration crept over Shuri's face, but he got the impression it was not directed at him, "Not in the ways I had hoped to. At least not yet." She shook her head, collecting her thoughts as Ayo's calm voice stepped in.
"Issues of the mind are immensely complicated, and rarely straightforward," Ayo reasoned, "But your mention of what you glimpsed in the Dark Place makes me wonder if our interests might be more aligned than we originally thought."
He frowned, "But I thought you wanted him to try and recall a memory from 2018 that involved the 'snows of Wakanda?'"
Shuri found her voice again, "That was the request I made of him. My logic was to put aside considerations of Symkaria, because we had no logs of information or activities there, and to instead focus on a more recent memory he had experienced firsthand in 2018, that for an indeterminate reason, had slipped away from his grasp in the years since. Years where we were certain HYDRA was not involved. My thought was if we could discover a way to reconnect his mind to a recently lapsed memory, then perhaps we might uncover a way to also help him find connections to many others. The map of our friend's mind has always been somewhat incomplete, but up until recently, our understanding was that what he recalled during his time with HYDRA, the time before, and the time after were stable. That no additional loss was occurring. And that any new memories he made were fresh and permanent upon his mind." She sighed and shook her head, "This was our first clue that more was fading, and he wished the opportunity to not only preserve what he had, but to find a way to potentially regain what he had lost."
Shuri's claims were a lot to process, but the basic reasoning tracked. While the assortment of memories he'd begun to collect appeared to be relatively stable, even he was well-aware that bits and pieces concerning the Dark Place were no longer as crisp as they'd been upon waking.
If they faded, what was to prevent other memories from being drawn back into quicksand of his mind without him even realizing it? Regardless of his lingering, and arguably very valid concerns about if the people around him would take an opportunity to erase him and get their 'friend' back if given the opportunity, he wasn't stubborn enough to ignore that there was undeniable overlap on key matters, especially when it came to the desire to learn more, and to not lose more of himself. "Why did you choose that specific memory from 2018?"
"My aim was to search out the most recently logged memory we possessed that he could not recall in the hope that our familiarity with it would allow us to assist him in recollecting specific details. Our friend's memory was remarkably sharp, but memories are not stored in one discrete location in the brain, and I had hoped that keying into nuances surrounding it might aid us in better identifying the underlying issue, as well as tracing a potential resolution to this and other 'lost' memories."
"It was a pleasant memory," Ayo saw fit to insist. Something in her tone and the faint, but complex smile cast upon her face made him certain the woman across from him had taken part in it as well.
He wondered what it was that had taken place on the snows of Wakanda six years ago, and why it would have been notable enough to log? But based on what they were telling him, it wasn't suitable to inquire further, as it was their friend's memory, not his.
Barnes's eyes flicked back to the timelines: Shuri's and his own beside it as he tried to place anything he could about Symkaria, but came up mostly empty.
Mostly.
He deliberated how much more he wanted to offer on the topic, especially when he remained painfully uncertain what knowledge was safe, dangerous, or anywhere in-between. Could it be that HYDRA had added programming to implant false memories in order to lay a trap for him or anyone else that dared to stand against them?
His concerns must've been more visible on his face than he'd realized, because when he looked up again, he caught Ayo's patient eyes waiting for him, "I did not mean for my words to cause you distress," she apologized, "I do not know how many memories you possess that you would consider pleasant, so I only wanted you to know the one we sought out from 2018 was not intended to provoke trauma or suffering. The words we speak now are also not meant to burden you. We will respect your desire if you wish to stop."
Her words were open as they were sincere, and he didn't doubt that if he chose to stall the conversation to a halt, they'd leave it be. At least for now. The possibility of backing away from these complicated topics in preference for lighter ones was appealing, but not for the reasons he initially expected.
It was true that most of the memories he possessed he didn't consider pleasant. There were a few that were neutral, perhaps even edging towards comfortable, like the thought of when certain strays from the rooftops of Washington D.C. would lean against his ankles in what he came to recognize as a feline demand for attention. But beyond that? There weren't many. 'Pleasant' memories were entirely nonexistent regarding HYDRA. The closest thing to it were the rare times he was aware his captors pulled back from decisions that would have wielded more pain upon him, or moments they permitted him painkillers. But he knew now that neither were to be confused with genuine 'kindness,' and he felt at-odds wanting to remember more from that period when all it seemed to consist of were a blend of pain, horror, distress, and death.
Oddly, perhaps startlingly so, he was coming to realize that comparatively speaking, the only periods of memories that regularly leaned towards truly pleasant were… the one he was currently sitting in. The one that contained discrete memories of people around him laying back and telling stories of the stars, sharing photos, videos, food, and tea and even smiling as they played games and… it put a fractured, aching part of him at ease. Even when he was merely an observer watching Nomble and Yama debate recipes aloud, even when he was still unquestionably locked within the confines of the orange dome surrounding him… he found the recent recollections his mind pulled up to be… not unpleasant.
Even if his foot had been aching. Even if he had been disoriented, lost, confused… these building moments with the people around him were not filled with horrors or threats. But he also knew he still had questions, and so did they. And while he didn't have answers, he could grasp that perhaps by continuing to broach uncomfortable topics, there was a chance of not only better understanding one-another, but of finding a way forward together.
Sam broke the building silence with his voice, "I don't know the best way to put this but… no one here is trying to push you to get into personal stuff, alright? I wanna make that crystal clear. HYDRA were bonafide assholes. And no one here is asking you to put your personal trauma out on display. We're just trying to sort out if there's any overlap here that's potentially meaningful, or if it's just a ghost of wishful thinking."
Barnes couldn't shake the thought that that… what if…what if there was a chance, even a chance to stop HYDRA, to stop others from suffering as he had…?
He had to try.
"...What little I remember from Symkaria isn't fully-formed," he tentatively began. "It was from the 1950s, I think. Before HYDRA expanded the Winter Soldier program in 1991 using the externally-developed serum. They were always trying to make more of me, particularly after they realized the Americans had apparently succeeded where they hadn't."
Sam made a face at that, "1950s? Steve was in the ice by then—" it was clear there was more he'd planned to say, but the man in front of him stalled out mid-thought. "Wait. You don't mean…?" Sam's voice faded off a moment before he found it again, "...during the Korean War?"
Barnes met Sam's tense expression, debating what he wanted to say, but feeling certain he could read something in the other man's face, "You know about them." It wasn't a question.
"About who?" Shuri asked, confused.
"About the other Super Soldiers," Sam swallowed, his voice low, "The ones that looked like us. The ones a lotta folks higher up wanted history to wash away on account of things bein' done to them." Before Shuri could ask anything else, he folded his fingers together and rubbed one thumb over the other, as if trying to center himself with what he wanted to say.
Yama must have sensed the gravitas too, because she saw fit to collect the medical wand she'd been using on Barnes's foot and placed it across her lap. Her expression, and the ones mirrored on the faces around her were respectful, but undeniably apprehensive.
"I don't know much about the details," Sam continued, keeping his eyes down on his hands, "but they were lied to every step of the way, even as they were being told they were serving their country. There were cover-ups aplenty, including a particularly vile one brought about because people in power wanted an opportunity to quietly sort out why a particular strain of serum one man'd been given worked on him, but not on the others, presumably, so they could make more. Man spent most of his life, his best years locked up by the same people he'd pledged to be of service to." Sam shook his head sadly as he raised his head and kept his attention squarely focused on Barnes, "...You… remember fighting him?"
Barnes wasn't unaware of the heaviness of Sam's gaze, "There was more than one of them," he clarified. "HYDRA didn't know about them at first. Once they did, they wanted them. Alive."
Sam's eyes grew wide and his breathing quickened, "...I… I was told there was an enemy soldier that'd managed to kill nearly everyone they sent after him. Back in 1951."
His jaw shifted, "They weren't all killed. Only the ones HYDRA didn't have use for."
Sam made a choking noise with his throat as his head crumpled to his trembling hands, "Oh God… Y-You…?" there was pain in his voice.
Barnes didn't remember the details of the mission parameters, but he remembered enough. Overheard enough that key pieces began to fall into place that he hadn't been able to grasp at the time. Not with all they'd done to repeatedly wipe and scramble his brain.
But beyond a shadow of a doubt, he knew they hadn't been volunteers either. Not for what HYDRA did to them.
And he'd been the one to capture the two of them. But not the strongest one. Not the one that had located him in Goyang, and had managed to divest him of the bulk of his left arm.
Not that one. Not that he could remember, at least.
"Shit," Sam directed at the ground in front of him, "So you're saying they took 'em to Symkaria? The men you helped capture? Back in 1951?"
"Initially," Barnes admitted as a part of him struggled to latch onto anything useful, any pocket of memory from the time thereafter, "I don't recall seeing them after, but it's spotty." He gestured back to the projected timeline and the hashed blue section spanning 1950 to 2014, "HYDRA wasn't exactly big on calendars. I can't date the bulk of what I remember. It's mostly fragments." He was surprised how hoarse his own voice sounded.
"But you remember them. For sure?" Sam followed Barnes's gaze to the timelines, "The earliest part here, the '1950s' is nearly 70 years ago. There've been a lotta wars and occupations between now and then, but…" something in Sam's expression shifted, "I mean, do you remember where the lab was?"
Barnes tried to think back to any notable landmarks he'd used to orient himself to the hidden base in Symkaria, but came back blank, "I wasn't privy to information on the location of their base. A lot of people weren't. They wanted to ensure it remained secret and secure, even from most of their operatives. I was ushered into and out of the facility while my vision was obscured. Usually inside of windowless vans."
"So you don't even know where it is?"
"Were you even listening to what I just said?" Barnes felt the heat in his own voice, but it wasn't directed at Sam. It was the frustration of not knowing. Of feeling like he should know, but someone else had stripped him of the knowledge somewhere along the way.
"I was just makin' sure," Sam defended, following the statement by taking a deep breath, "But you're saying it was a whole operation?" He frowned, glancing to Shuri and then Ayo, "I take it neither of you have a record of a HYDRA base there, either?"
"No," Ayo stated cleanly through a clenched jaw, "We do not."
"Are you going after them?" Barnes repeated, looking between Sam and Ayo, hoping they now understood.
"The original plan was to try and track down whoever's been assassinating Symkarian Royalty, like I said," Sam clarified, "But now you're not the only one who wants to know what happened to those men you mentioned from way back. But as you might'a noticed: we've gotta little bit sidetracked here in Wakanda for the time being while we get all this sorted out."
"This?"
Sam raised a disbelieving eyebrow in his direction, "You. With what's going on with you. I'm not goin' back there just yet when it's clear I'm needed here. The other stuff can–"
A sudden snap from the woods behind Barnes jolted him to his feet.
I had the pleasure of working with MaxKennedy24 ("maxkennedy24" on Twitter) on an illustration he created to accompany a scene of the "Dark Place." Please check out this chapter on Archive of Our Own to see the art and link to his social media pages see more of his incredible art!
Simply search for: "KLeCrone Ao3 Winter of the White Wolf"
[Chapter Art, featuring Barnes, the Winter Soldier, and a handler in the "Dark Place," by MaxKennedy24]
Please check out his Twitter, Tumblr, and Website to see more of his art! He does such phenomenal work, and I love how much story and ambiance he was able to pull into this glimpse of the Dark Place.
Once again: *huge* thanks to him for bringing to life such an impactful story beat. Especially those shadowed figures in the background. I wonder who they are…?
Author's Remarks:
…So! This chapter was getting fairly long, so I opted to divide it up so you have something to chew on while I work on editing the rest, especially since that Symkaria bit has… implications…
- Ayo and Barnes discussing the Dark Place - I love seeing these two starting to reconnect in their own way. It makes me imagine what it might've been like for them to talk candidly back when Bucky was originally here in Wakanda, and the unique bond they had/have.
- The Korean War and Isaiah Bradley - …So yeah. THAT is a thing… You didn't think HYDRA would find out about another batch of Super Soldiers and leave them be, did you…?
- The Dark Place…and the Lab in Symkaria - The mystery deepens…
I've been crawling through a lot of overtime lately, and it's wonderful to look forward to the pockets of time I can carve out to work on this story so I can share it with you. I hope this update finds you well, and thank you for continuing to join me on this journey.
The world is a scary place at the moment, and I hope this story and its characters can continue to be of comfort to you during these trying times.