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.

58. Accord Progressions

We've had some flashbacks to Barnes in Washington D.C., and it is an absolute *treat* to share an illustration by Mads (maddie-w-draws on Tumblr) featuring Barnes and some feisty felines distracting him while he was very much trying to ensure Steve (and Sam's) continued safety.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: A huge shoutout to Mads for bringing this little post "Captain America: The Winter Soldier" moment to life in all its fuzzy glory

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

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Winter of the White Wolf

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Chapter 58 - Accord Progressions

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…Had Bucky known?

Sam's head was reeling at the idea that at least some of the soldiers Isaiah Bradley's mentioned might've met their fates not as casualties of war, government experiments, or even kill targets of the Winter Soldier, but as prisoners of HYDRA's secret war…

But had Bucky known? Or like the details surrounding Symkaria, had the particulars of those missions been buried away somewhere deep in his mind by his captors? In that moment, Sam didn't know which was worse: Knowing something as awful as that and being forced to live with the crimson-coated ledger, remembering in crystal-clear detail you'd been coaxed into dragging men off to a similar fate as you'd been forced to suffer, or never really knowing the torrent of atrocities your puppeteers had willed you to do?

Either way you cut it: There were no winners, no happy endings, and no silver linings to that kind of raw horror.

Sam was trying his best to process any fraction of that right alongside all the burning questions it bubbled up inside of him, at the same time Barnes had somehow managed to go from seated to standing faster than Sam could even process the movement of the towering shadow now looming in front of him. Here, he'd spent the better part of fifteen, maybe twenty minutes swallowing every last one of those solemn instincts that doubled for self-preservation. The ones that kept screaming he was in immediate danger, and was an idiot to seat himself within grabbing distance of someone who'd mauled him and dragged him around like a blood-soaked rag doll only the day before.

But of course the instant those battle-honed instincts of his scrambled back online again, Barnes… wasn't even facing him.

Quicker'n a copperhead, the half-amnesiatic Terminator'd managed to swivel himself around and arch his back, lowering his head forward as if poised to strike at the darkness. He'd brandished his hands to either side of him, fanning out the fingers like shaky bear claws. Well. One of 'em anyway. The other one was gripped around his cell phone like it was doubling as a makeshift knife.

All of Sam's attention was unilaterally focused on Barnes as his addled impulses fought to determine if he should launch himself to his feet, stay seated, risk breathing, or if maybe pulling out the shield currently strapped to his back wasn't the worst idea. But before he could come to any solid conclusion, he felt fingers gently press against the top of his left hand. The contact momentarily startled the hell out of him, and fueled on a burst of adrenaline, Sam's head jerked left to where Yama was still seated, looking not the least bit concerned. It didn't take much to piece together she was requesting he stand down his nerves and remain still like she was in that cross-legged yoga pose of hers. Silently, she mouthed, "It's alright."

It didn't feel alright, that was for damn sure. Sam's heart was threatening to jump clear out of his throat at every damn beat. Christ. He was amazed the damn suit he was wearing wasn't warning him he was on the verge of a heart attack.

"It is just the sound of the night wood," Ayo's calm, measured voice spoke slowly from just behind him, "As we have told you, there are no large predators this high up in the mountains. The perimeter scanners would have let us know if anything worrisome were approaching."

By the high angle of her voice, it was clear that unlike Yama or Sam she'd gotten to her feet, "We are safe," Ayo insisted.

Something about the way she said it struck Sam in a very particular way. Initially, he'd been thinkin' she was seeing fit to talk Barnes down, reminding him that he was okay. But when Sam spared a mouthful of air took a second look at things… he forced himself to really process what he was seeing.

And that right there made all the difference.

Sam's initial read was that the snap in the woods had startled Barnes – which it clearly had – and that he'd jolted to his feet to meet the unseen threat head-on. But that wasn't actually the whole story if you drank in his lurching body language. Yes, he was poised like a riled grizzy ready to fight, but his positioning, the way he'd stepped forward and to one side and brandished his hands like living weapons…

…his impulse hadn't been to fight. It'd been to place himself solidly between that sound in the woods and the people near him, Sam included.

Barnes's first instinct had been to protect the people around him from the unseen threat. That was why Ayo thought it necessary to reassure him that they were safe. Not him. Not Barnes. All of them.

Words Ayo'd spoken while Bucky was in a state of partial cryo rang through Sam's mind: "Were I to venture a guess? I suspect HYDRA hoped for another Steve Rogers. That they might produce a strong American soldier they could bend to their will. Instead, they unwittingly chose someone they could never fully control, because I believe one of James Barnes's most fundamental, basic instincts is to protect."

Yep. Sam saw it too. Saw it standing right in front of him clear as anything.

After another moment of silence filled only by the crackle and pop of a nearby fire and residual pounding in Sam's chest that, by his approximations, was loud enough any creature within roughly half a mile could gauge his pulse, Barnes kept his eyes to the woods and slowly spoke, "...I think it was just a falling branch from the north east. Maybe 20 yards, 60 feet away."

From just behind him, Sam heard Shuri's voice breathe something in a language he couldn't understand, but he got the impression she may have led with a Wakandan swear word or two, adding in accented English, "You startled me."

At the princess's words, Barnes glanced back over his shoulder. His eyes flicked over each of them, as if he was taking a quick inventory of their positioning and expressions. It had a way of reminding Sam of how the other man had looked back in the Propulsion Laboratory. No thanks to the head injury, it'd taken Sam a more'n a few beats to realize it wasn't happenstance that Barnes had chosen to position himself between Sam and those Dora, same as he had between him and T'Challa. It wasn't as if Sam enjoyed the thought that he'd had more'n a few moments of being a 'Samsel in distress,' but at the time, he sure as hell wasn't thinkin' straight enough to realize Barnes had apparently flipped the script altogether, and somewhere in there, had opted to become set on protecting him.

"We appreciate your concern," Yama's voice was firm, but not cross. "Now if you would sit back down, I can ensure you did not mar your foot over an errant branch." Sam got the distinct impression this wasn't the first time Barnes had reacted to something he thought might be cause for alarm. But Yama looked to be utterly nonplussed as she lifted her chin towards his exposed foot, "If I determine it remains in good condition, perhaps we can see if it would benefit from a warm sock before we consider setting the bones of your right hand?"

Barnes's bruised face contorted itself into a remarkably self-conscious, guilty expression and poised ex-assassin gave the surrounding woods a once-over before he turned back around and carefully lowered himself to the grass again, meekly adding for Yama's benefit, "...It could've been something."

Was that an honest-to-god pout?

"We are safe here in Wakanda," Yama insisted as she inspected his foot, "But it takes time to embrace these truths after the life you have known. Even still, we appreciate your desire to ensure we are well. Right, Sam?" There was that hint of a conspiratorial smile edging the corner of her face again.

Yep, Yama's definitely been able to overhear how quick his heart'd been racing.

"Right," Sam quickly agreed before adding, "...Wait, so do all the lions and hyenas out on the plains have tracking collars or…?"

"That would make for a challenging method to initiate one into the Dora Milaje, don't you think?"

From behind him, Sam heard Ayo audibly groan as she reseated herself, "Yama…"

"I told no lies," Yama defended, "Only that it would make for a good rumor." She casually turned her attention over her shoulder to Shuri, "Did you bring the fresh clothing I requested, my Princess?"

Shuri's expression was amused-enough to make up for the subtle irritation on Ayo's own at addressing Shuri with what Sam was guessing was far-more directness than Ayo might have preferred, "I did, and other supplies. I think it would be a good time to gather them, and we can perhaps table the heavier topics for a later time."

Shuri's words weren't a command, but Sam could feel the power of suggestion ebbing through them clear as day. He knew she wanted answers too, they all did, but that didn't mean they could ignore the fragile state of man they were pickin' at for breadcrumbs, even if the possibilities surrounding his claims about Symkaria and the other super soldiers had the potential to be a hell of a lot more impactful than they'd first suspected.

The frown of frustration Sam had plastered all over his face wasn't for Shuri, but she must've caught a whiff of it all the same. He knew she felt every bit of it too, down to that feeling of not knowing where any of this was headed, or what resolution they might see. But a man far wiser'n him had once said, "If you can't fly then run, if you can't run then walk, if you can't walk then crawl, but whatever you do, you have to keep moving forward." And this here? Impatient as he was, this here was moving forward.

It took Sam a moment to realize Shuri might've been waiting for him to suitably acknowledge the wisdom behind her request, but yeah: he felt it. After a quick dip of his head, Shuri turned and stepped back towards the ship they'd flown out in, and Nomble trailed behind. Sam was quick to notice that, like Ayo, the both of them had been standing, and that both Nomble and Ayo's spears were fully-extended.

Apparently, he hadn't been the only one to be given a moment's pause regarding Barnes.

As Sam sat there regarding the man with his Partner's face, he was struck by the awful, sinking reminder that what'd happened yesterday might not be a one-off experience. It could very well be the first of many. And that even though Barnes was starting to come around to them, even though by all accounts, he wasn't set on violence, it didn't mean things would necessarily stay that way.

But the part that hurt in a very particular way, was the fact that when those distressed blue eyes of his returned to Sam, he could tell how scared he was too.

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Shuri wanted to believe she'd done an admirable job obfuscating just how frail her nerves were, but by the time she stepped inside the Royal Talon with Nomble, she could feel the polished mask she wore around her start to crack.

With a few smooth gestures above one wrist, she brought up the ship's audio dampening field and stepped to the right side of the craft where she braced her hands against the surface of the communications console and closed her eyes a moment to catch her breath. She was aware Nomble watched her with those concerned eyes of hers, but her guarding Dora said nothing.

Normally, Shuri might've been relieved for the relative peace her chosen company afforded. Of all the Dora Milaje that regularly kept watch over a royal charge, Nomble was one of the most soft spoken. It was not that she was meek, and she was certainly not slow, but she was normally disinclined to speak unless specifically addressed. In fact, in the entire time she'd known her, the only time Shuri could recall that she'd spoken out of turn was the day before when James was under partial cryo and Nomble had seen fit to remind Ayo, of all people, that he hadn't returned to Wakanda after the wake of the Decimation to mourn with the grieving. To mourn with her, and those like her. It was not that Shuri thought she or any other Dora beyond emotion, but the pointedness of the accusation had a way of drumming up a lot of complicated feelings for her as well.

But now, as she stood and let the weight of the day settle into her open palms, the remarkable strangeness of their situation had a way of being almost… not comical, but perhaps more than a touch ironic.

Regardless of James's decision to look away from Wakanda and her people, and his choice to break Zemo out of prison to serve a greater purpose, Madripoor or not, Shuri still intended to help him. Frustrated as she was by his decisions, her resolve had not wavered.

And now? The man they were dealing with, or at least the composite that formed "Barnes" from a rough assembly of baseline personality, instincts, and memories… he had not acted against them as James had. In a way, it made him strangely innocent of those particular crimes and their pointed needles.

It was psychologically complicated as it was exhausting.

It was also probably why Nomble's choice to remain silent stood out more now than it once had, because beyond the fact both had been randomly called to the realm of their ancestors by the whims of a Mad Titan, Shuri was acutely aware the two of them shared a great deal more in common on these topics than not.

But in the moment, silence didn't suit Shuri. Yet before she could choose how to coax the other woman into conversation, Nomble's blessed voice broke the silence inside the ship, "My Princess? Are you alright?"

Shuri found herself smiling to herself that it had been quiet Nomble that had been first to speak. Was her own distress that obvious? "I have been better. It is just strange to see a stranger when I look at him, but also not," she confided, glancing at a particular bead around her left wrist. "He moved so quickly. I had almost forgotten how quickly. As he did, I nearly activated the disabling electrical node out of instinct. I am relieved I did not, for it is obvious now he did not intend Yama or Sam harm, but I am caught wondering how much worse things might have been if I had done so prematurely." She tilted her head, looking over her shoulder to where Nomble was standing, "Or, how quickly their lives may have ended if in my caution and desire to not harm him, if I had been wrong."

She sighed heavily, shaking her head. The confession did not come easily, especially when such conversation would have been much more suitable to share with Ayo, but Shuri chose to believe it was not a sign of weakness to be candid with someone who so clearly understood not only where she was coming from, but whom Shuri knew had also readied her sonic spear as well as her own remote interface for the electrical node on Barnes's shoulder, but had similarly chosen not to utilize it.

Nomble inclined her head, "In the heat of the moment, we must lean into where instinct and logic meet in order to determine how to react. But it can be challenging, especially with someone who carries with him so much… history. And at the same time? Little history at all." A faint smile touched the corner of her face, adding a gentle curve to the vertical tattoo that ran across her right cheek and up over her forehead. The sympathy in her expression had a way of capturing the surprisingly complicated situation the two of them found themselves in, "But it is not the first time he heard something in the woods," Nomble admitted. "He is less 'jumpy' now than he once was, but it is distressing to my nerves, even if I hide it well." She paused a moment before adding, "Yama appears acutely turned to Barnes's behavior. It is as if she has a sixth sense surrounding him. I do not consider it a weakness in my own training to suggest that in times of concern, you might spare a moment to gauge Yama's reactions. It is if she sees things in ways we cannot."

Shuri turned and leaned her weight into the hand resting on top of the communications console, appreciative for Nomble's candor, "Do you have any theories as to why that is?"

Nomble drank in the question a moment before she spoke, "I think it is twofold. She walked through the Decimation, but was not heavier for it once it lifted. It offers her more distance between herself and the White Wolf she remembered. She is not without reproach, or awareness for the weight of his decisions after, certainly, but I hope it is not bold of me to say that I think of all of us, she hoped most that what happened might've been formed from a place of misunderstanding. Even now, she offers Barnes the opportunity to make clear his intentions, even as she states and stands by her own."

The Dora Milaje regarding Shuri added, "I think her interest and considerable time spent among animals also offers insight into nuances others might overlook, but at the end of the day, she is…" Nomble trailed off as she chose her words carefully.

"She is Yama," Shuri finished, smiling lightly.

"She is Yama," Nomble agreed. "She chooses her fears, and she has chosen not to fear Barnes unnecessarily."

"And you?" Shuri inquired.

Nomble shifted her weight, "I see different people often when I look at him, which is confusing. But I've found the tension fades as you watch him. He is surprisingly gentle. Careful. He is self-aware of his own strength, and doesn't seek to draw attention to it or posture. But he is afraid too, that what happened yesterday might repeat itself." The frown on her face deepened, "It reminds me of the time after the first hidden failsafe was triggered. What it was like for him, and those that guarded and sought to help him."

Shuri felt a fresh wave of guilt rise up in her, even though she knew Nomble's words carried no accusation or proclamations of culpability. There was no way any of them could have known about the series of clever snares and traps laid for anyone who dared to try to diffuse the damage done to James's mind. "He wanted us to put him back in cryo," Shuri recalled, "That is the first time I remember him raising his voice towards me, even briefly."

"He did not want to risk it happening again."

"Which it did," Shuri noted with a sad, resigned sigh. It was strange in that moment to think how distant those experiences must have been for those like Ayo and Yama, who had stepped through the Decimation, but how oddly fresh it felt for Shuri the longer she ruminated on the memories. Had such memories felt fresh to James as well?

To her, and to Nomble beside her, the experiences could be framed within the timespan of mere months between then and now. And they were busy months, especially after the wake of the Decimation lifted, but they were still only months.

Even after what she had seen, those cruel trials pressed upon James's mind by HYDRA were far more nuanced and insidious than Shuri had originally been led to believe. It was not that any of them had grown lax as they worked to free James's mind from the code words, but none of them had thought it possible that any of the failsafes might've been set with a secret time delay meant to take their enemies by surprise.

Up until that point, working with James had felt, not necessarily easy, but predictable enough. Even in the time between Events, when his mind was fogged and he worked to find his way back to himself, he did not actively seek out violence. Once he was separated from the throws of Events, she found that being around him did not incite any undue nervousness or tension. He was James, not the Soldier. And James did not, would not strike out at them. He was their ally, their confidad, their friend. The man they shared food, stories, and music with. The same man that started as nothing more than her brother's delegated pet project, and would evolve into not only an exemplary exploration into the power of the human mind and the quiet song of its guiding spirit, but a revelation into the deep rooted horrors men were capable of inflicting upon others. It was not as if she hadn't read about it, but she would be first to admit she was sheltered, and that stories were no substitutes for seeing their cruel handiwork firsthand.

But as days turned to weeks, and weeks into months, and months into years, Shuri also realized that James was no more "just" her patient than Ayo was "just" her guard. He was more, and all of them, even she, and perhaps especially Ayo, were better for it. For his humor and kindness, for showing that even in great adversity, there was still the promise of light and levity. Of hope to be free from his walking curse so that his life could once again be his own.

But the day he struck out of nowhere, and the times thereafter it… it had a way of changing their dynamic. Of not only making him leery he might suddenly hurt or kill others, but even those around him he trusted most… it was easy to tell that they grew more cautious, and felt a silent need to maintain their guard, because now they knew things could change at a moment's notice.

And now… it wasn't the same, but Shuri felt a similar thread, for they still did not understand what had happened, or why. She did not know if it might happen again, and what would happen if it did.

The only thing she was certain of was that it was in some way her fault for carelessly triggering the Event, even if no others would admit the truth she saw so plainly.

As if reading her mind, Nomble saw fit to firmly add, "What has happened is not your fault. If you wish to place blame at someone's feet, it would be under the heels of those that sought to harm him, not those that have sought to heal him."

Shuri wasn't so certain, but a gentle shimmer along Shuri's wrist called for her attention, and she glanced down to see her communication bead blinking to notify her of an incoming message. She waved her thumb across it, bringing up a series of notes and summaries that accompanied a plethora of data and highly detailed charts. Her expert eyes quickly scanned over the contents as she pulled choice pieces free and bid her mind to turn away from lingering thoughts of guilt to the purity of data analysis.

She cocked her head as she latched onto a few key details and outstanding questions that required clarification from her end. But rather than respond via text, she held her palm open and prompted the audio-visual interface to request a connection. Moments later, the vibranium-formed visage and salt and pepper-grey hair of the lead bio mechanical engineer assembled above her hand.

His expression was pleasant, focused, but it was clear his prompt for communication was with a decided purpose. He inclined his head, "Princess Shuri. We received the latest round of data, and I wanted to share an early comparative analysis of our findings as well as to seek clarity on the nature of its collection so that it might be further tuned to be more useful to our purposes."

Shuri accepted a follow-up prompt for another incoming data transmission, enlarging it enough that she felt certain Nomble could follow along. But even as she arranged the series of primary and secondary holographic displays around her and sent others to the nearby screens lining the nearest wall of the ship, she immediately noticed the timestamps, and the fact that some of the data connected to them didn'tproperly correlate to data she had collected.

She could see evidence of the information she'd sent along regarding how Barnes regarded timelines and events, as well as the familiar markers relating to data from James's – Barnes's – Kimoyo Beads: temperature, heart rate, oxygenation levels, blood pressure, and so on, the information from his key vitals he had chosen to share with her as a precaution in the wake of when he had been put into partial cryo. It was also data she'd been able to continue to collect even as Barnes woke and sought to escape from the Design Center, and now shared it with her fellow scientists. She had assumed he remained unaware it was still an active connection, lest he would have chosen to make it private and block her access to the data.

Yet displayed on the readouts before her was far more data than she could easily explain.

Her confusion must have shown on her face, because the lead engineer on the other side of the connection quickly saw fit to add, "...The change was not of yourdoing? I had thought perhaps one of his beads had been switched on or switched out..?"

Shuri caught the subtext of the implication immediately, but she didn't have an easy explanation for it either. Kimoyo Beads were an intrinsic part of daily life for nearly all Wakandans. During the Decimation, even many of the technologically wary J'Abari had opted to begin using them. Kimoyo Beads were a sublime accessory so customizable and second nature to her that she felt remarkably naked in the rare times she took hers off, or reshaped them into another form. There was something immeasurably sacred about the fluid blend of art, technologies, and solemn purpose.

But with those complex technologies, there was also remarkable risk, which was why security regarding Kimoyo Beads was and remained paramount. It was important they were each and all entirely unhackable, the personal data on them safe and secure without question.

Which made the lead engineer's inquiry all the more curious, because since it was assumed the information on the beads themselves had not been taken by force, then the only reasonable explanation was that a bead itself had been switched out with a rogue bead meant to intercept personal information. It was not unheard of, but the creation of such beads was not only profoundly rare, but closely guarded to ensure they were not misused.

And obviously, that had not been the case here.

It took Shuri a moment longer to realize the additional subtext they were dancing around like crowned cranes was something she hadn't even considered needing to speak aloud, until she realized her fellow scientist believed there was a chance the Kimoyo Bead strand originally gifted to James had been set up with an intentional weakness in case it was ever needed. Like parental controls programmed on a child's bead, only far more insidious.

Shuri did not feel the need to ask if this consideration was based wholly in science, or because this man had once been conscripted into service under HYDRA, or if it was because he was considered to be a fair-skinned foreigner among them. In the end it did not matter, because her answer remained the same, "No beads have been switched out, and the strand he was gifted by my family was as secure as any other. The only difference was he opted-in to share additional vitals with me the day before, as I told you, and it appears 'Barnes' did not retract the handshake to share that data in the time thereafter." She looked at the scans, confused at how some of the more recent data might have been extrapolated based on the relatively slim amount of information his beads were transmitting, "To my knowledge, he has not permitted anyone here to augment his beads to allow for some of this data, particularly the more recent neurological scans. How was this data obtained?"

"It was transmitted from his strand, but not in real time. It is not robust data, but –"

Her fingers were already searching to extrapolate the origins of the transmission signals for any information she could latch onto. When she found a foothold, it was not what she might have expected. "– it was functionally achieved by using the interior of the shield itself as a localized biometric array." Shuri might not have had detailed information on the inputs Barnes had made into his beads, but she could now see his attempts to access the shield's systems. To understand how they operated, and to discreetly determine if there was a way to disable them. But he had not pressed far enough to warrant caution from the systems itself.

It was if he knew how close he could step without arousing suspicion.

When he'd found nothing of use for a potential escape, he'd apparently used his beads to make silent inquiries into what was available to him… and by the looks of it, he'd sought and succeeded in initiating and modifying the shield's private data collection so he could acquire further key biological and neurological data about himself. Data that he'd apparently recently chosen to now share.

It was both clever and undeniably impressive, especially considering he'd leveraged the privacy protocols of his beads to serve his purposes, sight unseen. The technologies of the shield had not sought to block the attempt because the request was classified as benign personal medical information.

It was content to keep his private data in, like it kept him in.

If he'd tried to access other systems, or subvertly sought to gather information on those around him, it would have raised a red flag. But this… this was impressive.

Because of the violence he'd drawn upon the day before and his bruised and haggard appearance, it was easy to question what was going on beneath the surface of his mind, but this…? This was remarkable. She'd known HYDRA had done much to suppress a great deal of his higher brain functions that didn't serve their explicit purposes, but this was a clear indication that it wasn't simply that he recalled their language and how to fly their ships, information that was clearly obtained in the time after HYDRA, but he was able to navigate far more complex protocols.

Protocols so remarkably advanced that Shuri, one of Wakanda's brightest minds, had apparently wrongly assumed the fact he'd continued to transmit data about his vitals from his Kimoyo Beads was proof he did not fully understand them. In reality, it had been not only an astoundingly well-played ruse, but he'd leveraged their own technologies to his benefit from right under their very noses. And then? The only reasonable explanation she could think of was that at some point recently, he'd decided it was appropriate to share this supplementary data with them. Not by chance, by choice.

What had been the deciding moment when they had finally achieved such a particular vein of trust among them? Shuri couldn't recall when it might have happened, but perhaps he had programmed in additional silent gestures to the beads around his wrist?

With what she now knew, she would not be surprised.

The lead engineer's projected face sought clarity, "He is the one that collected the information? And also the one that released it to us?"

"It appears so," Shuri acknowledged as she double-checked the triangulation and confirmed the transmission points were indeed located from inside the protected area just outside, "As you are aware, our shields are multifunctional, but I did not consider that he might seek to discreetly utilize such features while not disrupting its core purpose."

"Containment," the man considered aloud. "So you're saying he must have known what commands to avoid in order to make it so that his inquiries would not be met with resistance?" He shook his head, equally bewildered and impressed, "This man of yours, Barnes, has further remarkable complexities and aptitudes than I originally thought. This continues to be a surprisingly unique case." Shuri used her fingers to rearrange the holograph charts and three-dimensional displays around her while he continued to speak, "It explains why the additional data was comparatively imprecise. We both know mobile technologies like those in the shield were not intended for the precision of our particular application. They are certainly no substitute for a lab environment. But that being as it was, it did allow for new notable correlations to be discovered when framed alongside existing data."

"Oh? What time frame does this supplementary data account for?"

A series of timestamps appeared, "It was added as a bulk submission accompanying the ongoing transmissions of his vitals around half an hour ago, but accounts for approximately a twenty-one hour period preceding that, give or take. It spans from late yesterday evening until now." His salt and pepper-haired vibranium visage tilted his head, "Might I present some of our early findings? I wanted to ensure you were up-to-date before some of the team here retires for the evening."

"Of course, of course," Shuri turned and stepped towards the center of the ship, where she placed a Kimoyo Bead on the vibranium assembly bed and waited as it was temporarily absorbed. With experienced grace, she pivoted on one heel and took a few steps back as the engineer settled in to access the remote connection. As he did, she motioned for Nomble to join her so that they both more easily review their findings. It was abundantly clear her guarding Dora's insight was just as valuable as any other, and it was important to Shuri that she made clear that Nomble was welcome to contribute as she saw fit, and was not intended to be seen and not heard. Yama's found word for the connection they shared with one another resonated within her mind. A 'Ukupakisha ibhondi,' she'd called it. A Pack Bond.

Was this newfound willingness for Barnes to share his data with them evidence that Barnes had begun to feel it too?

Geometric blue, white, and orange shapes shone above the central table while a sinuous trail of vibranium nanites sprouted from its core, shaping themselves into the tendril-like curves that formed the central nervous system of a three dimensional representation of a brain. Though Shuri did not consider herself exclusively a neurologist, it was a specific brain she felt she could have sculpted with her eyes closed, even though there were evermore secrets to learn about it.

"According to your postulation, before 'Barnes' went to sleep last night, it appears he attempted to negotiate a way to run a series of scans on himself, including the decision to prompt an ongoing monitor of his brainwaves by using the shield as a sort of approximated scanning array."

Shuri leaned to one side, "What was the scan he ran before he initiated the ongoing ones?"

"It was a full-body biometric scan that was tuned to differentiate between biological matter and foreign matter."

"He was confirming the absence of the nails, the implants," Nomble remarked from a step beside her.

"And to see if we had added others without his knowing," Shuri concluded.

The lead biomedical engineer continued, "The scans were of course neither precise nor robust, but they were able to pick up some key details that the vital monitoring of the Kimoyo Beads were unable to." A supplementary overlay appeared beside the rotating cerebral diagram. "The nuance is subtle. Initially, we focused our attention around your theory that a key shift may have occurred during a period of rapid eye movement that was prompted by the use of cortical stimulators. We, like you, did notice a change in his brain patterns, but we do not believe it was as instantaneous as we first assumed."

"What do you mean?"

"We only saw it once the latest information was released to us. Here. Look." A series of multicolored overlays appeared over the central diagram, representative of the first session in the lab, where 'James' somehow made way to 'Barnes,' and then another, more generalized readout that appeared to signify the period of natural sleep from the night before on the mountain. The same period where Barnes claimed he had awoken remembering more. "The consistency between the periods is that they both occurred during a timeframe of rapid eye movement, which again: we suspected based on the original timing, but the shift in pattern we see is not originating at the onset, tail end, or even at a specific point within the active period. Rather: the shift is subtle and highly nuanced, more like water reaching and receding over a beach. Interestingly, this push and pull happens multiple times throughout the period while he was experiencing rapid eye movement. Not with the same timings or patterns, but with some notable similarities between overall activity and prominent signals sent between very specific parts of the brain." Flares of orange and blue light streaked from point to point, bouncing around in what appeared to be a relatively similar flow as they moved, even though the majority of the locations themselves were discrete and not shared.

Shuri regarded the complex readouts critically, noting how variable the firing rates were, "Was the gradual shift you speak of seen during the full duration of the active period?"

The lead engineer shook his head, "No, only during the later portions of each, but not the cusp."

"While he was within what he calls 'The Dark Place,'" Shuri noted.

He inclined his head in agreement, "Assuming that what we are calling 'The Dark Place' was an experience that occurred exclusively in later periods of the REM cycle, then yes. I received your recording of his descriptions of it. There is of course little to be seen on our end to diagnose what he saw or experienced, but I can tell you that upon the visit Barnes spoke of, his parietal lobe was not only far more active, but portions of the brain centered around accessing long-term memories were more active as well. This finding was unexpected since the initial assumption I suspect many of us made based exclusively on his initial behavior post-Event yesterday was that the subject calling himself 'Barnes' has access to less overall information and memories than 'James.'"

Shuri frowned, "You do not believe that to be the case?"

The scientist in front of her pursed his lips, "As you well know, there is no reliable way for us to suitably pinpoint or quantify memories stored within the brain. What we call 'memories' are not localized, and there are simply too many interconnected structures to feign that they can be viewed as discretely existing separate from one another."

"But…?" Shuri prompted.

"But," he emphasized, "generalized activity can be shown as an indicator of overall health. And actual memory traces are encoded at various places in the cortex and –"

From somewhere just offscreen, Shuri could hear one of the more outspoken neurologists boldly insist, "Show her the overlay. Our Princess does not need to be reminded of the way memories are stored. That it is not a house filled with compartmentalized boxes. Show her our findings."

The lead engineer turned his head to one side and shot the owner of the voice a decided look, but didn't argue the point. When another overlay replaced the first, the woman's voice on the other end of the call took over the presentation, "This is the activity of three scans overlaid outside of diagnosed periods of REM sleep. One, Saturday, August 10th, while 'James' was in a state of partial cryogenic freeze, but not REM sleep. This is shown in orange. Next, in Blue are the scans taken by Subject 'Barnes' as he slept on Sunday, August 11th, but prior to the later period of REM sleep. Finally, in white are the scans taken in the time after he woke." She paused, "Do you see it, my Princess?"

It took Shuri's searching eyes a moment to separate the colors, because at first, it was as if they filled out the whole of the ailing man's mind without any recognizable patterns. But then she saw it. The subtle specificity of where the colored lights overlaid, set against the areas they clearly did not.

And how certain ones danced through and around the ghosts of where nails had once been embedded in his brain.

She found herself processing the information as quickly as her lips spoke, "And the scans taken when he was put under partial cryo, outside of periods of REM sleep, what were they most similar to?"

"They were most like those taken before he was treated by the cortical stimulator."

It was more than a breadcrumb, "And after he woke on the mountain? What were those scans most similar to?"

"There were shifts," the neurologist admitted, but it was clear she already had her answer ready, "but surprisingly, it shared more in common with scans taken around his arrival in Wakanda, in 2016. But with enough attention, we can now see that between then and the scans made just before the application of the cortical stimulator, there is a subtle if progressive loss of frequent access patterns to certain areas. –"

Shuri immediately caught it too, "- Areas which are far more active now. You think the activity we see, some of it at least, is filling in the blanks of the 'missing' areas?"

"Not all of them," the neurologist was quick to clarify, "I do not think we are seeing a culmination of someone who possesses all of the memories that were absent from Subject 'James,' there is clearly some degree of overlap, but I do think it is entirely possible Subject 'Barnes' possesses access to a great many memories 'James' recently did not. Which? We cannot know. And is it randomized and inconsequential? Evidence of a grand design, or simply residual damage to a fractured mind? It remains profoundly unclear. But this man here, 'Barnes,' it is entirely possible he now also possesses access to memories or information that was never accessible to 'James,' even after the code words were made benign."

The lead engineer's voice returned, "There are many lingering questions, of course, one of which I feel is particularly important to focus on. And that is: that there is a lack of consistency, even between periods of REM sleep. Broadly, the first instance of rapid eye stimulation, the one while he was in a state of partial cryo, had little notable impact on his waking brain patterns, while obviously, during the period where the cortical stimulator was utilized, it appears certain key parts of the brain were unexpectedly blocked or slowed while others were surreptitiously activated."

He took a deep breath as a blinking holographic light emphasized a particular readout, "Yet last night, after undergoing a period of REM sleep, there was little if any data to support significant reversion, but instead the period prompted more resulting activity. It makes suggesting potential solutions impossible at this point, beyond advising you that it may be wise to consider disallowing him any further sessions involving rapid eye movement until we better understand what exactly is going on, and if we can determine a method to better control what is happening while he is under. Because in the meantime? It appears entirely possible that further sessions might unlock more memories, like that he claims to have experienced last night, or it is equally possible that further doors could close, or that the intricate systems themselves could become corrupted. Working memory. Short and long-term memories. Explicit memory. Implicit memory. Centers controlling use of senses, language, motor controls, and more."

The lead biomedical engineer frowned, "Everything I have seen so far makes me inclined to believe what we see now in 'Barnes' is not a separate person or personality. He is simply a functional, and ever-evolving composite of different portions of his existing memories, not a rogue agent. In a question of identity, it would be like asking if who you were when you were young was still undeniably 'you?' What about now? What if certain key memories were stripped away: Is that person still you? But at what point have you lost so much that that is no longer the case?"

Shuri noted Nomble uncomfortably shifted her weight just as the voice of the unseen neurologist added, "We do not yet know if there is a way to force the doors of his back open once they are closed. If he loses too much…"

"...He could cease being himself at all," Shuri concluded aloud as she regarded the chart, looking beyond the hovering strands of vibranium nanites and colorful holographic displays to where Nomble stood with a troubled expression cast over her face.

For someone who spoke little, whose expression usually remained tight and focused, Shuri was surprised how much raw distress showed on her guarding Dora's face.

But then, she was certain it must have shown on her own as well.

---

Sam was well-aware Barnes was seeing fit to keep his eyes locked on Shuri and Nomble until they both disappeared into the glowing blue light of the open hatch leading into the interior of the Royal Talon parked in the grass nearby. Barnes focused, as if listening for something. When it appeared he couldn't gather anything of interest, he turned his attention back to Sam. The faint wrinkles at the corners of his eyes seemed more pronounced in the flickering firelight as the ex-assassin re-holstered his cell phone. For a moment, Sam wondered if he was about to slip back into one of those brooding silent periods of his, but apparently the other man had something on his mind, "I said I wasn't going to hurt you," a pause, "again."

There was definitely guilt laced into that tight, complex expression of his, but Sam was reasonably certain that not only was Barnes speakin' his truth, but that he genuinely felt bad for inadvertently startling him when he'd shot to his feet after hearing something off in the woods, "Yeah, I know," Sam reasoned uncomfortably, "Just nerves."

Judging from Count Olaf's self-conscious expression, he'd probably been able to hear Sam's tell-tale heart clear as anything too.

Yama took the exchange as a prompt to continue inspecting his foot, but Ayo retracted her spear, placed her hands across her lap, and said nothing. Sam got the impression she was giving the two of them space to converse. He only wished he was able to get a solemn read on the man in front of him as easily as the two of them seemed to be able to. On one hand: it really was something to bear witness to. On the other: it had a way of nudging those parts of him that wondered about what it'd been like for Bucky way back. And now Sam couldn't help but wonder if, like whatever he'd experienced in Symkaria, even more bits and pieces of his time in Wakanda had been chipped away too.

That wasn't to say he didn't want 'Buck' back, he absolutely did. It was just that now, whatever bits and pieces wrapped themselves together to form 'Barnes?' He saw value in those too.

Which made things even more confusing.

Sam knew Barnes couldn't mindread, but as he kept his blue eyes focused on him, Sam did his best to push some of his more somber thoughts away for another time so he could take in the whole package of the bruised and battered man in front of him. A punctuated note of brooding discontent was cast over his features, but on second glance, Sam realized he wasn't so much upset, as worried. Maybe even worried if his actions hadn't inadvertently set them back. "Just don't do that on purpose and we're good," Sam reassured him.

"Do what on purpose?"

"Scare me," the words fell outta Sam's quick lips before he'd taken a moment to consider the meat of his statement. But by the tight expression on Barnes's face, the two of them were still reading from subtly different playbooks. Yep. That right there was guilt, alright, down to the long, lingering gaze back to Sam's hands. Sam hadn't intended to come across as passive aggressive or to swiftly remind Barnes of the damage he'd done just to make him feel bad, but intentions only mattered so much if the person on the receiving end caught the wrong message.

God. Did Ayo overthink this stuff as much as he did? She made it seem so easy, "I just don't like being startled is all," Sam clarified, doing his resolute best to sound reassuring, "But the two of us are good, and my hands are gonna be fine because you got me help when you did." he raised his chin towards the mottled-purple hand Barnes kept clutched around the top of one blood-stained jeans, "How 'bout that one of yours?"

Barnes spared his offending hand a cautious glance, and made a peculiar expression with his lips Sam struggled to immediately identify until he heard Yama speak up, conveniently steering the conversation of her own accord, "Is your other foot injured as well?"

Sam hadn't even thought to ask about what was underneath that boot of his, but Barnes promptly answered, "No. Just the hand."

Sam didn't know much about Wakandan tech, but Barnes's foot looked remarkably better. Not only was it back in one piece and no longer leeching fluids, but there was barely even any discoloration down the center where it'd been split clean open. The repair was downright impressive. "I have mended and stabilized this foot enough for tonight. The replicated skin and underlying tissue is still fresh, however, so you would do well to keep it inside the fresh sock our Princess and Sam brought over for you when you next wish to bear weight on it."

The pale exposed toes resting on the grass between them wiggled testingly. From this distance, it was hard for Sam to believe how grotesque the injury had been not even a day before, or how oddly innocent and childlike the sight of wiggling toes was.

Part of his brain thought it might short out if he imagined the Winter Soldier wiggling his toes.

"Is it sore?" Yama inquired.

"Not exactly. Just… tight," Barnes admitted, but Sam didn't miss that quick glance back to Sam's nearest hand.

"It loosens up after a little while. At least that's how it was for me," Sam offered, trying to be helpful. It sounded helpful, right?

Yama extended a hand palm-up towards Barnes, "May I work your hand? It is clear the bones need to be set, and it would mean you will be more comfortable, especially once it is time to sleep."

Barnes made a concerted effort to open his clawed hand, but it was readily apparent from his trembling fingers that it would only comfortably open so far. Sam didn't miss how those blue eyes of his flicked in Ayo's direction, as if remembering she was the one he'd been hollering at when he slammed his hand against the shield. Lord almighty, the two of them were doing a damn good job having entire conversations with their eyes alone. It made Sam wonder if Barnes remembered more about her than he was letting on, or if what he remembered was as poignant as Sam was guessing it was. Sam's attention returned to the timelines fanned out across the shield in front of him as he searched out that particular point in 2016 Ayo'd added, the one representing when she'd first spoken the code words to him out here in Wakanda. Which Barnes said he remembered.

What had that been like? Not comfortable, Sam knew that much.

But there was something else going on between the two of them, and by the crook in Yama's eyebrow, she sensed it too. Whatever it was didn't seem dire, or make those hairs on the back of Sam's neck stand up, but it was a bit like watching two grown adults try to mindread.

"Yama does not intend to take your beads from you as she works on your hand," Ayo reassured him out of what Sam felt was the clear blue. The remark had a way of sending him right back to when they'd all been together at the Aeronautics Museum. Sam didn't have any reason to believe Barnes remembered that particular visit to the museum, but it was wild to think it'd only been a little over two days ago, when in his own head, it felt like it was so distant it might as well have been from before the Decimation itself.

He remember when Shuri had prompted Buck to hand over his Kimoyo Beads so she could toss a Wakandan firmware update on 'em or something, and how reluctant he'd initially been because he thought there might've been a chance she planned to reclaim them like Ayo'd done with the arm. But in the end, that hadn't been her aim at all. She'd just wanted to make sure he could access the messages that'd been left for him during the Decimation, including all the ones from Ayo.

Sam was guessing Ayo'd left Bucky some messages after, too, but like Nomble's pleas to attend her brother's funeral and ones like it: they weren't due to be easy listening.

When Barnes lowered his eyes back to the beads around his wrist, Sam realized Ayo must've been dead-on about her read of what was weighing on him surrounding what might've otherwise been an innocuous request for treatment.

"You do not need to remove your Kimoyo Beads while I work on your hand," Yama agreed.

"Who gave them to me?" Barnes asked, "When?"

At the question, Yama looked to Ayo, as if deferring to her, "In 2016. They were a gift from the royal family of Wakanda. They were presented after a particularly arduous event where our friend showed remarkable resolve in choosing to be of aid to a people that did not yet see him for who he truly was."

"Sam doesn't have any beads like I have. Like you have."

"He is a friend and visitor to Wakanda. Our friend was… more. He became part of us. For a time."

Sam recognized that look on Yama's face, because he'd seen a flavor of it often enough now to recognize when she was preparing to spit out truths. Apparently, she was set on milking that 'free pass' of hers for all it was worth, "He is part of us still," she corrected Ayo before adding, "And you could be, if you wished it."

And boy was it something watching Barnes's face drink in that solemn declaration. Ayo herself didn't choose to argue against Yama's claim, but the utter candor of Yama's words had a way of further softening Ayo's expression. It was as if he could see more of her laid bare in that moment.

In response, Barnes ran his left thumb over the nearest vibranium bead encircling his right wrist, "...And the arm's from here too?"

"It is," Ayo confirmed. Sam didn't miss that she felt the need to swallow after speaking.

"I didn't have it in the dream with the code words."

"It was given to you in 2018, after many surgeries where Shuri sought to repair the lingering physical damage caused by HYDRA, as well as after the final code word was made benign."

It was clear Barnes was chewing on her words, but they didn't aggravate him, "It doesn't hurt. Not like the other one."

"The electronic devices that HYDRA connected to your nervous system as well as those that ran through to your heart were removed during those early surgeries," Yama offered in that voice of hers that Sam read as palpable empathy from someone that had no-doubt seen handfuls of that bloody part of Bucky's life firsthand.

Even still, Sam couldn't help his curiosity from getting the better of him, "...The what was removed?"

He honestly expected Yama to respond, maybe even Ayo, but instead it was Barnes himself who spoke up, his voice lower, layered in something unspeakably heavy, "It was wired directly into my central nervous system. So, among other things, they could remotely stop my heart. Or start it. It was short range, but…"

Sam didn't need to ask who 'they' was, but he was finding it rather difficult to process he was capable of hating HYDRA any more than he already did, and that was a metric ton. Yet, here he was, grappling with another fresh wave of anger in the pit of his gut, as he realized yet another reason Barnes would have wanted to run rather than stick around. That dire, pained look spread across Barnes's face said more'n words that whatever they'd hooked up to his heart at one point had gotten enough regular use to give him pause.

And like the nails: They'd been there the whole time when he'd been on the run for two years, and neither Sam nor Steve had any idea. Those particular third-party accessories certainly hadn't been in that classified KGB dossier Nat'd been able to scrounge up.

"There were failsafes in place within the systems as well," Ayo offered gravely, "For they did not want their contingencies to be removed. But it is alright now. The surgeries to remove them were many years ago, and your heart is strong."

Barnes looked as though there were a whole host of questions he considered asking after that, but instead he ran his fingers though short-cropped hair once before opting to slowly extend his right hand towards Yama.

The gesture itself wasn't dramatic, but there was something profound under the surface that was clear as anything. The man in front of him – hell, even Bucky – had spent the better part of his life being forced and manipulated into obedience, and treated as a thing to be used and abused rather than an actual person. It was sometimes all-too-easy to forget that, to see him as unnecessarily stubborn and strong-willed rather than realizing it was near-to a miracle at all that he'd been able to get out from under all that and genuinely start to carve out who he was again. What he wanted.

And that was a key nuance Sam'd missed: He realized that Barnes being overly considerate about things like bodily autonomy wasn't because he was testing Yama's patience, but because he was trying to sort out what he wanted after years of being disallowed choice at all. And seeing him work it out in real time really was something, like he was still learning to piece together what genuine kindness and compassion looked like when it was directed back at him.

But Yama didn't make a big deal about it, she simply rested her left hand under his to steady it and put it in position so she could go back to using that do-hicky of hers. Sam didn't miss the pleasant, but remarkably victorious smile spread across her face while she adjusted her positioning so she could better focus on her newest task.

Yeah, Yama was good people.

Barnes regarded her for only a moment before returning his attention back to Sam, "Are you going after them?" he repeated, "After HYDRA?"

It took Sam's brain a hot second to play catch-up on where they'd left off in that particular conversation. You know, the one Shuri's politely asked Sam to table for the time being. But this guy really wasn't lettin' up. "I'm clearly needed here," Sam Wilson channeled every ounce of Captain America-scale bravado into his voice.

Barnes narrowed his eyes and chewed on Sam's declaration as that cyborg brain of his came up with a smart reply that had more latent sass in it than Sam thought he was honestly capable of, "But you didn't even know there was a base."

Wow. This guy, "We don't know if it's even still there, or if it's related to this case at all." He debated adding that he obviously wanted to know what had happened to those other men, really he did, but it stood to reason they were a few decades too late for a legitimate rescue attempt. "What you're claiming you saw was a long time ago. The 1950s, I mean. But you said you didn't know where it was. That you were blindfolded, taken in and out on transports so the location would stay concealed kinda deal. I'm not sure how much the area's changed over the years, but If you have any idea where the base was, I could let Rhodey know, so maybe he could get someone to check it out. See if it's still active."

Barnes's face pressed together, and apparently yet again, Sam couldn't help himself from running his damn mouth, "...What's that look for?"

When the man with his partner's face didn't answer immediately, Ayo chimed in, seeing fit to address him by name. Had she even done that before, "...Barnes?"

The other man's eyes glanced to her and back to Sam before he chose to reply, "...I don't know where it is. But I might be able to figure it out."

"Figure it out?" Sam deadpanned.

"Maybe," Barnes considered aloud. "They didn't deafen me."

Ayo caught the implication immediately, "...You think there is a chance you could retrace your steps?"

"Wait. Hold up. We are very much not considering—?" Sam began before Barnes actually had the gall to interrupt him.

"I was just answering your question." Barnes defended. He had the nerve to sound offended.

"We are only seeking to bridge understanding," Ayo clarified in a tone that Sam got the distinct impression was directed squarely at him.

But Sam's mouth kept going, "Okay, because for a second there I thought you might be actually suggesting…"

And Yama, blessed Yama just shrugged like it was no big deal. That while Shuri and Nomble were off rummaging around that Wakandan ship of hers, this little troop of idiots were casually floating the idea that… what? At some point maybe they could just hop a jet over to Symkaria and casually drop Barnes on the ground like a half-amnesiatic, deranged bloodhound so he could try to retrace his steps like he'd stepped out of a time-travel flick?

Yeah, that right there was a terrible idea.

The group fell to silence as Yama let the possibility hang in the air while she pulled up a scan of the interior of Barnes's right hand. The insides were indeed… broken… but thankfully, they didn't look nearly as bad as the jumbled mess that approximated Sam's own paws the day before.

Not that anyone was comparing.

Certainly not Sam.

"If he were deemed stable…" Yama casually reasoned aloud, keeping her eyes forward and focused exclusively on Barnes's ailing hand.

Ayo shot her lieutenant a stern look to table the present topic. Though Yama skillfully feigned obliviousness, she complied enough to change the subject, "That matter aside: Do you still wish to run, as you did before?" She made a sweeping gesture to the dome surrounding him using that medical wand of hers, "If a time came that this shield did not contain you, what would you choose to do with your freedom?"

Whatever Sam'd been considering defending, adding, or asking regarding taking Barnes to Symkaria took a rapid pivot as he reacclimated to Yama's question. Barnes ruminated on the question from just out of arm's reach while the four of them sat on the grass and waited for his reply. It hadn't been a question Sam'd considered asking outright, but this whole mess they were in, well… it was fair to assume there was a chance it might not be resolved anytime soon, and it wasn't like they could just keep him locked out in the woods… could they? As far as Sam was concerned, the shield was still a flavor of a prison meant to keep other people safe from him, and to keep him from opting to just skip town at his earliest convenience.

In Sam's mind, he supposed there was a world once-upon-a-time when he'd just… assumed that they'd be able to get 'Bucky' back, and then the shield would come down and things could start getting back to normal.

But what if this was the new normal? What then?

Barnes frowned and regarded the pair of color-coded timelines hovering silently across the shield's surface, "...I don't know. Something… isn't right with my mind. Even if the code words are gone, I don't want to hurt anyone without knowing… like that… again."

Yama didn't immediately respond. She just inclined her head, as if prompting her patient to know she planned to wait out his complete answer and could match his stubbornness pinch-for-pinch. Interestingly, Barnes glanced first to Ayo and then Sam, as if seeking out whatever additional information he could parse from their expressions. His voice was softer when he finally spoke aloud to the sage-scented night air, "I don't even know where I'd run to," he admitted, "But I… I don't want to run. Right now, at least." He glanced to the hand Yama was working on before turning his attention squarely to Sam, "Did your friend have a home, like you did in D.C.?"

Damned if that question and the deliberate focus of those blue eyes didn't hurt in a very particular way. Buck always had a way of talkin' around that word, 'home,' like it was almost a dirty word, a loaded word, and Barnes being so direct it… it struck him hard.

"...Yes and no," Sam admitted, trying to push away the tightness in his throat, "He'd carved out a pad of his own in 2016, in Bucharest, Romania, back when he was still on the run, but I don't know if he considered that a 'home' much as it was a safe spot to crash. After that, he went out to Wakanda for a couple years, and later on, he got an apartment up in Brooklyn for a few months starting back in 2023, but I think half of that was convenience and the other was obligation. But he spent a chunk 'a time crashing on my sister's couch in Louisiana after we started working together earlier this year. Same place from that photo with all of us and the boys. We'd talked about maybe gettin' a bachelor pad or somethin' down the road, but…" a sad smile quirked the corner of his lips with a sigh, "I'm guessin' he had some complicated feelings about 'home' too." Sam inclined his head in Ayo and Yama's general direction, "Case in point."

Yama smiled a little sadly, but her eyes glimpsed to Ayo at the remark. When Ayo chose to say nothing, Yama leaned in towards Barnes conspiratorially and opted to fill the lingering silence with her voice, "I will tell you a secret."

Barnes cocked his head and tensed, "A secret?"

"Not that type of secret," Yama quickly assured him. "Not a secret you are under obligation to keep, or a dangerous thing. But a secret all the same. A precious thing." Her warm brown eyes caught Sam's briefly before she continued, "We are all of us searching for a home. It may change many times in our lifetime, and we may define it in many different ways as we grow older. It is less a destination, but a feeling, I think. Of connections forged through choice and intention."

Barnes looked as though he was chewing on Yama's words, but Sam didn't miss the way even Ayo's layered expression eased and opened at the statement, "There is wisdom in Yama's secret," Ayo admitted, "That sometimes what might serve us best are not simply places or things, but the peace of feeling truly seen and heard by those you value and hold dear." Her expression was strangely peaceful as she added, "I have found that is the beautiful language hoisting up the true meaning and purpose of 'home.'"

And Sam? He found he didn't need to be back on the docks to acknowledge that powerful sentiment Ayo was speakin' to, because in that particular moment, he felt a heavy whiff of it too.

---

Barnes felt certain neither Yama or Ayo's words were meant to be interpreted as riddles, but there was an element to them that reminded him of Nomble's stories, and how the adventures of the characters had a way of shifting his thoughts to certain places or things he'd experienced. Of casual moments. A passing smell. A pleasant taste, like the orange marmalade. Soft fur. A quick puff of sound that in isolation, was nothing more than background noise, but put in a greater context of memories or experiences, felt sizably more profound. Whole.

The word 'home' felt like that. Like a word empty of context or meaning until it was pressed against the idea of smiling faces like the photo of that dock in Delacroix, Louisiana, or the words Yama had floated on the wind like a leaf held aloft in the breeze, perpetually suspended until it willed itself to settle:

"He is part of us still. And you could be, if you wished it."

He didn't have a way of explaining the sensation, other than to silently acknowledge that being around these people elicited something in him that he couldn't yet explain. A resonance. Something. It wasn't discrete in a way he could put a name to, but perhaps it was something like Yama mentioned about 'home.' That it was a feeling deep in his gut that told him that being around these people was better than not being around these people. That there was intrinsic value to them that went beyond simple proximity or usefulness.

Oddly, it reminded him of the strays in Washington D.C.

He'd never actively sought out their companionship. If anything, he did his best to dissuade their curious noses and meddlesome paws.

Especially that white one that took an almost unnatural interest in tipping over each and every beverage he managed to secure. Especially his Venti White Chocolate Mochas.

Though he'd taken great efforts to ensure the cats could freely partake in optimal nourishment a distance away from his continued surveillance operations over Steve Rogers, in due time, a number of them had not only taken an interest in his activities, but regularly sought out physical contact with him.

He wasn't sure what to make of it at first, but in time, he found there was something oddly compelling about another creature consciously choosing to seek out connection with him. It was strangely soothing, and sufficiently made up for the times they sought to distract him from his post or lure him to engage in physical contact so that he would acquiesce to their plaintive cries for attention, or lies about when they'd last eaten.

How was it that certain animals could be such remarkably convincing liars?

Barnes knew the situation he was presently in wasn't the same thing, not nearly, but he found more similarities than not.

And he found, strangely, that though he didn't feel he had any personal ties to this particular location, he did feel an unsung connection to the people around him. One that he desired to learn more about.

And that mattered.

Before he could consider if Ayo's statement necessitated a reply, Barnes caught sight of Shuri and Nomble disembarking from the jet. Shuri led the way, carrying what appeared to be two folded socks resting atop a set of curved insoles. A few steps behind her, Nomble carried a black roller-bag in one hand and her spear in the other. As they approached, Shuri's expression shifted and her smile grew more pronounced as her bright eyes fell over him. "I have seen what you did with the shield," she declared when she was still a short distance away, "It was remarkably clever."

"With the shield?" Ayo inquired, confused.

Ah, she'd seen the data he'd submitted then.

It'd taken her long enough.

Shuri's voice was clearly impressed, and held no signs of reproach, "He sought to collect his own scans using the shield's private systems, and has now thought to share this data with us."

Sam looked downright confused, but Shuri's statement prompted Yama to glance up from her work on Barnes's hand, "But when?"

Her words were not a command, but he indulged her all the same, "Bathroom breaks."

"That is impressively sly."

If he had to guess? Yama looked impressed too.

Barnes shrugged noncommittally in what he hoped was an adequate approximation of Yama's signature move, and she responded by snorting once and shaking her head as she continued mending the metacarpals in his hand.

He waited to speak until Shuri had again settled herself on the grass on the other side of the shield, "The personal scans confirmed that the nails were removed," he confirmed, "as well as the majority of the internal systems, including the one that used to connect to my heart." He chewed his lip as he regarded her, searching her expression for common ground to latch onto, but even though to the best of his knowledge, she had been someone to try and offer relief from what HYDRA had done to him, at every turn he found it difficult to push past the part of him that declared that she was a doctor that had worked on him. That had operated on his body and mind.

And the fact he couldn't recall consenting to those operations had a way of giving him understandable pause, even under the current circumstances.

He didn't recall the operations, but she had freely admitted to them, and while he bristled at the idea of things being done to him without his knowledge, there was a part of him that reasoned that all of his findings tracked with her claims. With their claims. That the nails were gone. That the pain in his head and shoulder were no longer crippling, and that the contingencies HYDRA had placed deep within his body to keep him subservient had been carefully plucked away so he was no longer forced to bend to their will. To fear their cruel retaliation.

He knew the electrical node T'Challa placed along the back of his shoulder was still there, but painful as that charge had been, he understood now that they'd felt it necessary to subdue him so that Sam could be safely retrieved. That it wasn't done for the sake of punishment or raw cruelty.

Not like the nodes HYDRA had implanted alongside his heart.

His mind clawed in a feeble attempt to remember when it'd been first put there, and though he couldn't recall it, he had flickering memories enough of it being used to punish as well as to entertain. Like he was some sort of party trick.

He recalled the faces of people around him laughing as they compared it to a shock collar, took bets as they challenged one another to see how long he could stay conscious when they'd sent remote commands to stop his heart from beating, or to prod it into a state of wild activity.

The few memories he vividly remembered flooded back into him. The sheer horror that at the time, he was unable to see the faces around him for what they were. They were not allies. Did not act out of necessity. Nearly all of them saw him only as an object, a thing to be poked and prodded. Tested and teased. He hadn't been able to read their expressions, especially the horrific, palpable joy some of his jailers took in his pain.

…What had become of them?

But when he looked at Shuri, both now and in the one lone memory he had of her, he did not see the same cruel expressions of his captors. He saw discomfort. Resolve. Hope. The words she spoke, even when his mind was fogged and lashed with a need to obey Ayo's words, were gentle. Respectful. Open. She knew he'd feared what he might do when the will of overs pressed upon his mind, so she'd offered to record the sessions so he would have clarity on everything that happened, regardless of whether he remembered it after or not.

"You were trying to help," he observed. "In my dream from the other night. In 2016. You wanted to remove the code words, but testing them was a part of the process."

Shuri inclined her head, "It took great time and resources, but eventually I determined a way to make them benign. So no one could use them against you."

Barnes licked his lips, "He trusted you."

The left side of Shuri's face faltered for only a moment, betraying the pain she was struggling to hide. But he recognized it. It flared brightly alongside something he took for guilt and determination of will, "Yes. I'd like to think so. I valued and trusted him too. It is part of what makes this situation we find ourselves in so complicated. But I am trying my best to see you, too."

Barnes glanced to the pair of timelines hovering across the shield between them. One that blocked off a purely chronological span of time, and the other, how he grasped the relative order of the overlapping events and memories that he could hardly make sense of. But he was trying. He was trying so hard to make sense of it all.

But he now knew the woman sitting in front of him might have answers to at least some of his questions, "I could access the commands necessary to generate personal scans from the shields, but I don't understand them. Not in the way you do." He paused a moment before adding, "I don't want them used against me."

Shuri's voice grew serious, "That is not my intent."

He couldn't know for sure, but he chose to believe her.

"There is still much we do not know," she began, "but I will tell you an active theory resulting from the scans you provided to us. It is this: We do not know why, but it appears the last two times you went into a period of rapid eye movement, when you say you and our friend were both in the Dark Place, during these periods, there were slow, subtle changes in how your brain operated. Our belief is that these periods adjusted what memories you had access to during these sessions, as well as upon waking. But the experiences themselves were not purely additive, and as a result, I would suggest we refrain from allowing you to re-enter a state of REM sleep again until we have a better idea of both the underlying causes for this behavior, as well as how we might avoid a repeat of something like what we saw yesterday afternoon, or worse."

"I remembered more last night," Barnes observed. "But you think there's a chance that if I go into a deep sleep, rather than remembering more, I could forget?"

Shuri's expression was apologetic, and Barnes could tell she was striving to be candid with him, "I do not say this easily, but there is a very real risk, yes." She sighed, folding one slender hand into the other, clearly frustrated by the situation they found themselves in, and the lack of a clear path forward, "I suspect you desire the opportunity to remember more, and I do not desire to deny you that. I am only striving to express caution that we tread carefully, until we understand more."

Barnes frowned, but he followed her train of logic, "...Has this happened before? Like this?"

Shuri shook her head, "Not like this, no. There were brief periods where your mind was temporarily fogged, but nothing like this. A great deal of the work we did was centered around the purpose of removing the impact of the code words, so you could be free from the risk of others leveraging them against you. We spoke of memories, of course, but not in a context of gaining and losing them, because up until recently, we did not believe further loss was occurring," She shifted her jaw, as if remembering something else, "Or potentially that long buried memories might resurface, unbidden."

He was casually aware that Yama's attention to his ailing hand had slowed and that she'd turned her head to regard Shuri, a question clearly on her mind, "There is much we logged. Perhaps there are further correlations to be discovered, and in the meantime, it would allow Barnes to learn more without risking loss of what he already has?"

Shuri nodded in agreement, "I was thinking the same." She turned her attention back to Barnes, "It has been a long day for all of us, but if you have interest tomorrow, I would be willing to share whatever logs and recordings of ours interest you. Anything at all."

He considered her words, "And if I said I wanted to try risking deep sleep?"

She flinched, "I would say that as both a scientist and someone that cares greatly for you, that it is not advisable. That being as it is, I would not force my theories upon you, but I would remind you that there is not only the risk of losing further memories you have gained, but the risk of further violence and confusion if you awaken and do not know us."

Barnes could feel everyone's eyes on him at that statement. At the declaration or potential risk put squarely against potential rewards that ultimately nested the decision in his hands. And as he sat on the cool grass under the night stars and their stories listening to the fire crackling at his back, he found that though there was little he could be certain of, that a few notable things struck him as more true than not:

Shuri believed the words she spoke.

She intended for him to decide how they would proceed.

She, and the others, saw him as having intrinsic value, rather than simply because of the connection to someone they knew.

They saw him.

He wanted so desperately to know more, to remember more, but was he willing to risk all he'd learned, all he was, in the pursuit of 'more?'

The lingering presence of Yama's gentle fingers cupping the back of his right hand drew his attention as they stilled, waiting out his reply to Shuri's stated concerns. The bruising was noticeably better already, and while logically, he knew he was entirely capable of supporting the weight of his own hand, and that it was unnecessary for her to hold it aloft when she wasn't actively working on it, but he found the extended contact didn't bother him as much as it once did. He no longer immediately related it to the pressure of HYDRA's scientists working on him, and unlike them, he felt somehow reassured that he had consented to the contact, and that if he chose to revoke it, his preferences would immediately be respected without retaliation.

It was oddly empowering.

And he felt better too. Physically, of course, but it went beyond just that. Intrinsically he knew that things weren't resolved with his mind, but something inside of him insisted that he no longer needed to run.

Because some part of him was already 'home.'

"...Okay," he softly agreed to Shuri's suggestion to forgo REM sleep until they better understood what was going on. It was a reasonable request, and one they could revisit if needed.

She breathed a heavy sigh of relief, "It is a good decision. And I would be remiss if I did not note the irony that under other circumstances, I would have otherwise encouraged periods of deep, restful sleep rather than denying them. But hopefully as we move forward, it can be towards a solution that ultimately affords you those comforts without risks. In the meantime…" her attention dipped towards his exposed foot, "I have brought you something," Shuri wiggled the bundle sitting across her lap that included a pair of socks resting atop what looked to be two insoles.

"I know what socks are," Barnes deadpanned.

"You do," Shuri smiled, her expression was warm and teasing in a way that Yama's sometimes was when she thought she knew something he didn't, "But you have never worn something as advanced as these," her thin fingers swooped once over the bundle before she gingerly handed it off to Ayo, who passed them through the shield to Yama. The grin spread across Shuri's face was infused with palpable excitement. Why did socks merit such an enthusiastic response?

Yama released Barnes's right hand and put her reconstructive wand down so both of her hands were free to receive Shuri's bundle, which he casually placed across her lap before handing one grey sock to Barnes. It was Shuri who spoke next, "Put the sock on first, then place your foot in position over the curve of the insole's platform. The nanites embedded in it will respond by forming a suitable fitted boot around the sock. I have modeled 'inspired' footwear after those you have on now, but with more style, of course, and more personal comfort as well. They come equipped with very basic programming that will allow them to monitor the swelling and automatically adapt to it, so you will not need a separate compression sock until further work can be done on your foot."

While Barnes regarded the liners with some amount of respectable apprehension, Sam inquired, "...You're telling me Barnes gets magic shoes?"

Shuri shrugged, but she had a very specific twinkle in her eye that Nomble had once told him was "smug."

While an instinctual part of him was understandably still on-guard for where the next threat might arise from, Barnes concluded that If anyone surrounding him intended him outright harm, it would have happened long before now. Such devious snares wouldn't be masquerading as a pair of folded grey socks and flat liners that Shuri insisted were capable of becoming 'shoes.' So, he opted to proceed without further objection and brushed off his exposed foot before carefully working the sock Yama'd handed him around it, being mindful to avoid putting pressure against the areas Yama'd surgically mended. It was sore and noticeably tight, but he was surprised by how much better it was feeling overall.

"Is the pain okay?" Yama asked.

"Yes."

"You would tell me if it was not, yes?"

Barnes shot her what he hoped was an offended look as he continued carefully wiggling his foot inside the sock. While he did, Sam took the opportunity to casually snark, "Not as fun being asked if you're lying, huh?" his smile shifted into an expression Barnes recognized as a midpoint between curiosity and concern as he added, "...Wait. Were you being serious about being able to tell if I was lying back there yesterday?"

Now Sam clearly intended to point that direction squarely at Barnes himself, but in response, the women seated on the grass around the two of them regarded one another as if they hadn't caught the whole conversation. Yama looked especially perplexed, "What do you mean?"

And Barnes… Barnes realized in real-time that maybe this hadn't been a topic he'd meant to broach.

"Wait…" Sam waved his hands in front of him, as he addressed the man nearest him who was innocently securing the cuff of his sock, "Wait you were serious? But they don't know?"

The expression on Barnes's face – which was certainly not a pout – shifted to something that might've doubled for genuine betrayal.

Yama rapidly turned her attention back to Barnes, "You can reliably tell if someone is lying?"

"...To a fairly high degree of confidence," Barnes warily admitted. He had a feeling the best way to diffuse this particular topic was to get it out of the way as quickly as possible, "It depends on the individual, the assessment options available to me, and the subject's training in the acts of subterfuge and biological control."

Yama met his eyes and once his sock was secure, she handed him the left insole as if it were a precious bird in her hand, "I would have you teach me," she whispered conspiratorially.

"Yama!" Nomble somehow managed to skillfully blend an audible groan with admonishment.

From just beside her, Ayo spoke aloud to no one in particular, "...He is implying that… the whole time he was here…?"

Shuri sat back with her mouth agape, "...He knew…? Even when we played games of chance…?"

"That's hardly fair…" Sam grumbled, but Barnes got the impression none of the people around him were upset about what must've been newly-revealed information, only that they hadn't known about it previously.

How strange to think they had neglected such valuable training.

Barnes did his best to ignore their bewildered expressions as he folded the lip of the sock below his calf prior to carefully inspecting the insole using both hands. The dark material was thin and though it kept its form, it was also slightly flexible. It looked innocuous enough, but it was difficult to believe it could choose to be a shoe.

Once he was satisfied with his initial observations, he placed it on the ground in front of him and lifted his foot so he could gently touch his toes to it. Initially, nothing happened, but once he lowered his heel down so that his whole foot was pressed into place, a cascade of living vibranium rose up from around the sides. He might've tensed, but it quickly faded when it was clear the activity of the nanites wasn't due to cause him unexpected pain or discomfort. Instead, he simply watched in awe as the material shimmered and reshaped itself, protectively surrounding his foot. After a moment it solidified, but unlike the programmable navigation nanites he'd used the day before to form an extension for Sam's chair to help keep him from passing out, when these nanites settled, they did so with a sprawl of different colors and textures. Within moments, they looked like nothing other than an inconspicuous, Wakandan-inspired walking boot.

Fascinating.

Intrigued, he leaned forward and ran the thumb and fingers of his right hand over the newly-formed material both over and under his foot. The form-fitted upper body and tongue felt like leather and the sole like a rubber composite. Even the eyelets and laces, decorative as they were, possessed notably distinguishable tactile features from the other faux materials. Even though Barnes was well aware the construction was credited to nanite technology, the subtle nuances were remarkably impressive.

"Okay that tech right there is… really something," Sam admired.

Shuri's grin shone over her whole face, "It is protective, functional, and fashionable. Does it fit well?"

Barnes nodded as he rapidly turned his attention to untying the laces of his other boot so he could remove it. Mercifully, the soiled sock lurking underneath wasn't bloodied from unanticipated trauma. As he worked to peel away exposed sock, he was casually aware of the contrast between the two feet, and how odd it was that even though his left foot had been gravely injured, the feel of fresh cotton against his skin provided a layer of undeniable comfort. It had a way of making him feel somehow cleaner than he had since this all began. He'd grown accustomed to the rough, used, or ill-fitted socks and shoes he'd been able to get a hold of back in Washington D.C. And before that? HYDRA hadn't cared about comfort or fit. Like so many other things, the bruising and painful blisters he'd gotten were quickly dismissed as a non-concerns, especially since they would quickly fade as his body sought to heal him.

But these socks? They felt like they were his.

As Shuri watched him place his other foot into the matching liner, she noted, "I have also integrated a setting you can access on the shoes themselves or your Kimoyo Beads so that you may adjust how malleable they are, so that when you sleep, you can keep them on if you wish. They can be adjusted separately if you wish, in case one requires more support or additional tactile comfort."

Yet again, it was surreal to hear others expressing genuine concern for his physical comfort.

"We've gotta change of clothes for you too," Sam offered, "I mean, nothing fancy like that, but a shirt and so-on if you wanted something a little less… 'action hero.'"

At that, Nomble turned and rummaged in a bag just beside her. After a moment, she pulled out a folded grey t-shirt, which she promptly handed directly across the barrier to Barnes. Like the socks, it was in good condition, and while it didn't look to be new, there was something undoubtedly appealing about its fresh, unblemished appearance compared to what he was presently wearing. The one in his hands was slightly more steel blue, and there was ornamentation along some of the seams and openings that gave it a more styled appearance.

Even though he didn't recall ever wearing the shirt, some part of him identified it as his as well.

Strange.

He carefully lifted the blue, black, and gold shawl off of his shoulder and over his head and laid it across his lap so could more easily shift and shimmy out of the shirt he was wearing underneath. It didn't take much to get it off, but he was well-aware that there were a few blemished areas that stuck to his skin as he pulled the fabric free. It was not that he was necessarily self-conscious about his appearance, but some part of him was acutely aware that his present situation was outside of established experiences he regarded as the 'norm.' Were he still with HYDRA, others posted around him would often be tasked with dressing and undressing him, especially when his mind and body were addled as he came out of cryo or recovered from wipes or enrichment. In Washington D.C., he'd been on his own to learn not only how to locate suitable alternative clothing and necessary accessories, but how to determine if they were sized appropriately, and what order to put them on or take them off.

He'd quickly found the clothing system to be far more complicated than it first appeared.

But as he finally peeled his torn shirt and the chain of silver dog tags lightly tapped and settled against his exposed chest, he caught Yama take in a sharp breath, "Your ribs…"

Yeah. Some were cracked. Others were broken. The rudimentary scans he'd been able to take using the shield's systems had only confirmed his suspicions, "They'll heal," he stated more self-consciously than he intended.

He ran a searching hand over the bruises along his side, trying his best to be mindful of his expression as he sought out the most tender spots. His mind could identify the precise moment each of them had been obtained. Some were the result of physical altercations, but the most pronounced injuries to his ribs were a direct result of his orchestrated fall through the central shaft of the Design Center. He'd hoped there might have been a viable option for escape topside, but when no other options had presented themselves, he'd taken the next-best option. It was suboptimal to intentionally cause himself injury, but at least he'd been successful at re-aligning his trajectory so that he and Sam could land safely a few stories below in the Propulsion Laboratory.

It didn't mean it hadn't hurt at the time.

"Yes, they will heal on their own," Yama's stubborn, but compassionate brown eyes met his, "but if you give me a moment, I can set them so they heal properly," she insisted.

Barnes clearly knew Yama was capable of helping him, so why was he suddenly so reluctant to take her up on her offer?

Oddly, it was Sam that chose to speak, "...Gotta lotta bias riding on my tongue here, but I wanna make something absolutely clear here. And that's if you're even considering declining Yama's magic wand there because you're feeling guilty about any of this, up to and including what you did to my hands and face yesterday, that you choosing to quietly suffer in the now doesn't earn you any awards. No one here takes any joy out of seeing you suffering, myself included. I said we're good, and I meant it. And a heavy part of that is because your stubborn ass opted to take the brunt of that fall yesterday rather than any number of far less desirable alternatives I'm not even gonna go into."

Barnes caught the determination in Sam's expression as he crossed his arms and added, "So yeah. I'm hoping that stands a chance of getting through that thick skull of yours so you'll let Yama get you back in a good place with that magic wand of hers." He adjusted himself in the grass and lifted his chin, "I even have a great idea what we can do to keep ourselves occupied in the meantime, since now we know the livin' lie detector over here 'prolly has the upper hand in a lotta tabletop games."

"I don't cheat," Barnes defended.

Sam smirked, "I just want it to go on record that you said it, not me."

Barnes narrowed his eyes as he pivoted the subject, "So what's your idea?"

Sam's teeth shone brightly against the flickering firelight, "Well, I figure we've got time, and a bunch of music we could introduce you to." He shrugged a shoulder confidently, "Might even be some stuff you'd like. What'a ya say?"

Music? What a strange request. But Barnes didn't see any reason to decline the offer, especially when the mere mention of it seemed to spark increased interest in the people seated around him, Shuri especially. Was this intended to be a bonding experience as well? Like the games, food, tea, and Nomble's stories?

From the warm smiles on the faces of those around him, he felt certain he was about to find out.

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We've had some flashbacks to Barnes in Washington D.C., and it is an absolute *treat* to share an illustration by Mads (maddie-w-draws on Tumblr) featuring Barnes and some feisty felines distracting him while he was very much trying to ensure Steve (and Sam's) continued safety.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: A huge shoutout to Mads for bringing this little post "Captain America: The Winter Soldier" moment to life in all its fuzzy glory

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

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[Chapter Art, featuring Barnes/the Winter Soldier, and four cats atop a skyline in Washington D.C., by Mads]

I just love the idea of this grumpy ex-assassin and his little kitty entourage he didn't ask for, but also doesn't have the heart to shoo away. Even that white one that keeps knocking over his Venti White Chocolate Mocha…

Please check out Mad's Tumblr and Instagram to see more of her wonderful, personality-infused art (as well as Witcher content, Bucky, Sam, and… more cats).

Once again: A huge shoutout to Mads for bringing this little post "Captain America: The Winter Soldier" moment to life in all its fuzzy glory.

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Author's Remarks:

I hope all of you are having a good week! With this update, we just crossed over the 400k+ word mark for this story which is… utterly insane to me! There's still a lot of adventure ahead of us, and I can't thank you enough for accompanying me on this wild ride! To add to that: "The Falcon and the Winter Soldier" premiered on this date one year ago! Can you believe it? And this story got rolling a little over a month later! I don't know how the time flies, but oh, this train we're on together isn't showing any signs of stopping. We still have mysteries to solve, and goats to get selfies with at some point!

- Samsel in Distress - Shout out to Livingproof (on Ao3) for the "Samsel in Distress" bit. I know Sam is glad to be out of the fire of "The Fast and the Furious: Wakanda Drift Edition," but sometimes, I do miss the opportunity to use all those random alternative names for 'Barnes…'

- Shuri, Nomble, and the Scientists - Shuri's guilt is still… something… but I really enjoyed the reveal here that Barnes figured out a way to try to look into some of his own medical stuff without amassing suspicion along the way. It means he would have also been able to confirm for himself that the nails and such had in fact been removed, which supported the idea that these people around him were telling the truth. While he's not remotely a neurologist (which is why he opted to pass it along for "help"), I think it was also clever that he was able to collect more personal medical information under their noses… since he intrinsically knew it was secure.

- Barnes, the Living Lie Detector - I remain utterly amused by the idea that one of Bucky's unspoken "super powers" thanks to HYDRA's training is that he would have a rather apt ability to tell if people are lying, and that he… never mentioned it to anyone (even in Wakanda or thereafter). I don't know if I'd necessarily call this a "reveal," but it's also a call-back to a line in Chapter 1 where Bucky notes that Sam "had an uncanny ability to tell if he was lying." Bucky's just arguably… better, but he kept that to himself. ;)

- This also offers a bit of a subtle explanation on why Yama and Barnes were the first to really start to connect out here on the mountain. It's not that Nomble, Ayo, Shuri, or Sam ever lied to him, but each of them had a bit more complicated "baggage" than someone like Yama. I think Barnes was able to sense that, even if he wasn't able to identify exactly why Yama's directness and blunt honesty were especially refreshing. So there you have it!

- Barnes's Brain - A few of you have theorized that maybe some of what Barnes remembers are things Bucky didn't, and… yep! :) But right now, it's tricky to guess at which memories were potentially discrete to one another, and what contains some amount of overlap…

- 'Home - I loved having the opportunity to dive into some of the underlying sentiments Barnes and the others are exploring, and learning from one-another.

As always: Thank you so much for sharing all your thoughtful comments, kudos, and kind words of support on this ongoing story. I've still been drudging through a lot of overtime lately, and it's always such a wonderful feeling to be able to share an update with all of you. I hope this chapter finds you well, and thank you for continuing to join me on this journey.

Out of curiosity, if you feel comfortable saying, where are you reading this story from? I'm out in California. :)