I'm thrilled to share two new pieces of drone-infused art! The first is by murkycrush ("murkycrush" on Twitter) and which they created to accompany this chapter, and then we have a snazzy illustration by Sam ("HailHawkeye " on Instagram), which is a call-back to an early scene from "Winter of the White Wolf!"
Please check out this chapter on Archive of Our Own to see the art and links to their social media pages to see more of their beautiful art!
Simply search for: "KLeCrone Ao3 Winter of the White Wolf"
Winter of the White Wolf
Chapter 67 - Latency of Gimbals
Summary:
While Shuri seeks updates and answers from her medical staff, Sam, Barnes, and the Dora Milaje settle into conversation set amid games of mancala, only to discover among other things, the surprising origins surrounding Barnes's distaste for drones…
Even though there was no obvious reason for it, Barnes could feel a quiet, mounting urgency that steadily grew only more apparent after breakfast concluded.
If he had to guess, it was directly connected with Shuri's ever-evolving behavior. She was alert and presently focused on a series of dense, ever-changing readouts projected over her open palm. The blue, white, and orange light fell over face and hands as she sat on her cot and poured over data, much of which Barnes suspected were his own charts accompanied by some he suspected belonged to other people including M'yra, if he had to take a guess as to the owner of one particularly unpleasant full-body scan.
Shuri's expression remained neutral and tightly focused, and while for a time she would occasionally toss in comments from afar, as if she was intent to remain in conversation with the others at the camp, there came a time when even those remarks came to a stall, as if her present work ultimately required her full and undivided attention.
She'd wiggled around and changed positions at least five times, though Barnes found it difficult to diagnose if she was physically uncomfortable, if it was her method of expelling excess energy, or some combination of the two. Whichever it was, after a time, Shuri'd hopped off her cot, slipped on her shoes, and wordlessly made her way to the larger of the two ships resting in the grass nearby. Upon boarding, she hadn't closed the hatch behind her, but Barnes quickly concluded she must have chosen to toggle on the audio dampening field in her wake, because he could no longer hear her footfalls inside the craft.
Though the morning conversations around him continued unabated, Shuri's departure from the group had a noticeable effect on everyone around him, though most went through sizable efforts in an attempt to not to be overt about it. One-by-one, Sam, Ayo, Yama, and even Nomble repositioned themselves so that the ship was visible in their periphery while they cleaned up, and then proceeded to carve out social activities that Barnes suspected were geared to be temporary distractions until such a time that Shuri chose to rejoin them.
Barnes did his best try not to not to read into things too much and mark Shuri's actions as an indicator that she'd received unfavorable news, but the occasional concerned glances the people around him cast over their shoulders in the ship's direction told him that they shared his unspoken concern and were just as eager to find out what was delaying her.
Presently, he was engaged in a four player game of mancala with Nomble, Yama, and Sam. Nomble sat with him inside the dome and the four-sided wooden board while Yama sat with Sam outside of it, taking up seated positions on the other two sides. They all sat cross-legged, though now and then Sam fidgeted, as if he found the position uncomfortable for some bizarre reason.
While the four of them took turns moving colorful stones around the gameboard and collecting their captured tokens of triumph, Ayo stepped about the camp with a soldier's focused strides. She participated in their conversation, but only when she wasn't pausing her steps to read a surprisingly regular cadence of incoming messages and compose correspondences. She paced like a caged predator while she waited out the time between replies.
Barnes didn't miss the moment her normally stoic and remarkably neutral expression drew into a decided frown above the holographic display hovering over her Kimoyo Beads, though it was Sam sitting directly across from him that spoke up on their collective behalf, "...Everything okay over there?" Without missing a beat, he seamlessly picked up the contents of one clutch of stones and carefully placed one in each of the pockets to his right.
While he hadn't addressed Ayo by name, everyone seated around the gameboard knew exactly who his question was intended for, so when Ayo glanced to him through the readout of the holographic display at her fingertips, she found the group of them regarding her, hopeful for an answer rather than a deflection.
Ayo didn't answer him immediately, but her alert eyes looked between each of the figures sitting in formation on the grass a short distance away before she chose to close her communications window and take a step closer, as if signaling her decision to formally rejoin the conversation. Like Yama and Nomble, she remained dressed in full regalia with the cylinder of her spear holdered at her hip. Barnes had once asked if it was customary for them to remain in uniform for so long, and his inquiry had been met with what he interpreted as quiet amusement. Apparently it was customary for them to sleep in all white to 'repel the darkness of spirit,' but under the present circumstances, it was instead deemed appropriate to remain outfitted in case they needed to be battle-ready at a moment's notice.
Barnes knew the choice was not meant to cast doubt on his own intentions, and deep down he understood, but he also wished it wasn't a necessary precaution.
The sight of their steadfast armaments had a way of reminding him he was still a danger to all of them.
Ayo crossed her arms, but kept her attention squarely on the game board itself, "There's no news as of yet. I have mostly been in conversation with Teela about her new posting and my Dora at the Design Center." She shifted her weight to one side as she added, "I have also conversed at-length with General Okoye, who has many understandable questions and concerns surrounding the nature of the footage delivered to her this morning."
Barnes didn't miss the fleeting glance of concern Yama and Nomble shared with one another from across the game board. The generally pleasant expressions they'd had a moment earlier were quickly buried in a renewed, palpable seriousness. Yama was first to speak, treading her measured words carefully, "...Is there anything we might do to help?"
Ayo pursed her lips, but shook her head, "No. If she has any reprimand to give, it should be directed towards me."
"That was not what I was asking," Yama clarified.
The regalia-clad woman standing over them only sighed and slipped into a seated position at the corner of the board just behind Nomble and Sam, "I know. But it is the only answer I have to offer you at the moment." She made a fluid gesture with her hand, as if prompting Yama to take her turn, which she did.
"Why would she reprimand you?" Sam stated before quickly adding, "If. I mean. If it's appropriate for me to ask."
His question coaxed the smallest of smiles out of Ayo, "While it was not explicitly stated as a directive, I do not think General Okoye intended for us to broach the shield she erected with as much ease or frequency as we now do."
From just to Barnes's left inside the shield, Nomble cast Ayo a question with just her eyes, but Ayo stilled it with an easy motion of her hand, "You can stay as you are. I will ensure your choice of where you choose to sit does not earn you any ire, but it will be important for me to articulate how we have traversed from the perilous, violent moments she bore witness to until now."
Sam's face pressed into tight deliberation, "So you're worried she'll view it as a bad thing?"
Ayo inclined her head, "Not explicitly. But I think she might've preferred being made aware of such intentional changes in protocol ahead of their occurrence. Especially when her attention has been focused elsewhere, much of which relates to a fallout that was not of her own making."
Barnes caught the implied subtext of her words, and he watched Sam run his nearest thumb over a palm full of colorful stones, as if he was deliberating what to say next. Barnes could tell by the tense body language and posture of everyone around him that they were all concerned about something, but it was difficult for him to pinpoint exactly why that was.
He tilted his head skyward, looking out through the shield presently encapsulating him, Nomble, and the gameboard. It was still early in the day and the sky was warm and marked with a scattering of unobtrusive clouds. Was the color any different outside the dome? He'd never thought to ask, but he thought maybe it was.
His thoughts drifted back to when the artificial barrier was first erected. He didn't recall seeing it in any of his fractured memories. No. It was apparently put up just under two days ago, though his scrambled mind had a way of insisting certain events took place in the time between, including what he now catalogued as memories from Washington D.C., portions of his time with HYDRA, as well as brief glimpses of a life here in Wakanda.
At its most basic level, the dome was a containment device, but it served secondary purposes as a way to project holographic information and, thanks to his modifications, a way to collect and transmit information on his vitals. Vitals that could be key to unlocking what had happened and how they might stabilize what was amiss with his mind.
That being as it was, aside from his reaction to Ayo once beginning to speak the code words without his consent, he'd done what he could to not provoke any unnecessary ire from those he once marked as his captors, and now were something closer to friends. At first, his chosen behavior was not only out of a desire for self-preservation, but because Barnes once believed that any mis-behavior here might complicate or negate the desperate pact he'd made for Sam to get treatment in the aftermath of what Barnes himself had done.
And in the hours and days after that? He'd done what he could to be respectful of the boundary not only because he deemed it to be the appropriate behavior, but because he also believed that if something went wrong with his mind again, he could be a danger to others.
Therefore: the dome protected them as well.
That being as it was, he wasn't following why the woman that originally set it up would take issue with his current behavior, or that of the people around him, "...Did I do something wrong?"
His words prompted Ayo to look up from the game board and meet his eyes, but she quickly shook her head, "No. It is only that the events and fall-out of two days ago is still fresh and worrisome for General Okoye. She bore witness to the fated flight firsthand, but she has also reviewed footage taken from the Design Center and met with others like Teela, Nareema, and M'yra." Ayo took a deep breath before she added, "She fears for our safety, and that we have been perhaps too bold. Too reckless. So much so that it now casts doubt on the suitability of our judgment."
He frowned, but his question came out more of a statement than he expected, "Because I could have hurt you."
Ayo's lips twitched, but she inclined her head in agreement.
"But I didn't," he clarified, doing his best to follow her train of logic, well aware that the game of mancala had stalled in the wake of their exchange.
"You didn't," Ayo agreed, "And together we have discovered a viable explanation for your past actions, but the General knows that even being in proximity to you carries with it great risk, and she does not want to see others come to harm when where is so much we still do not know."
The conversation fell to silence again, enough so that Barnes could pick up the gentle *click* *clack* of the stones Sam circled in his palm. The sound itself wasn't distressing, but it had a way of reminding Barnes of a ticking clock.
Nomble turned her head to face him, apparently intent to help him follow the nuances Ayo was digging at, "That was her you met on the mountain when she erected the shield, the woman with gold regalia who asked you who taught you our language." Nomble motioned to her head tracing sweeping diagonal lines across it, "She has many black and red tattoos across her scalp. Do you remember more of her now than you once did?"
There was a time not long ago when Barnes tired from repeated inquiries into a past he could not recall, but now… now questions like this served as almost a challenge. A launching-off point. An opportunity to clarify what pockets of memory he possessed, even shared with others, and where his well of experiences was still bare and wanting.
Not even a day ago, he wouldn't have considered the words of those around him as necessarily holding truths, yet as he learned more, remembered more, he found he wasn't resistant to the harsh possibilities nestled within their claims. More than that: he now unexplainably possessed memories that matched and dovetailed with their claims, speaking to a fractured past he couldn't remember in whole, but one that was not nearly as devoid of compassion and companionship as he once believed.
"I don't have many memories that include General Okoye," Barnes admitted, "But she was present in the lab when Ayo first spoke the code words and," his face twisted slightly as he turned towards Ayo, "she… knows them too, doesn't she?"
Ayo inclined her head, speaking softly, "With our friend's consent, yes. It was deemed a necessary contingency should anything happen to me, and to ensure our methods were effective in removing the pull of the words, regardless of who spoke them."
That explained why he'd felt she might've been a prior handler at some point too: Because she had.
Had he felt it but not fully grasped it then because of what they'd done to free his mind from the nails and the pull of those poisoned words?
He still had so many questions.
Barnes looked out over his left shoulder towards the high ledge that dropped out below, "I don't recall many details, but she came out to train with us at some point a little ways down from here. With your friend."
"She did," Ayo confirmed, "though only on occasion."
Barnes got the impression that Ayo's brevity was intentional, though the fragments he recalled from Okoye's visits were exceptionally fleeting, and usually accompanied by T'Challa, who he identified as both her charge and superior officer. One thing Barnes felt certain of was that there was a sizable change in dynamics of the other Dora when one or both were in attendance. Not only did Nomble and even Yama drop to prolonged silence unless they were specifically addressed, but it was as if there was an underlying performative nature to certain witnessed behaviors and interactions.
None of it appeared to be malicious, but Barnes suspected even their friend's actions had been more tempered in those times. More careful. He allowed himself to receive blows he might've otherwise blocked, though Barnes could not understand why. What purpose did it serve to feign at being inept?
"You took it easy on your friend when she and T'Challa–"
"-King T'Challa."
"King T'Challa visited."
Yama snorted lightly at his exchange with Ayo, though when Ayo shot a look of reprimand in her direction, Yama quickly covered her chin with her fingers to dodge her Chief's pointed gaze.
"But I don't understand why," Barnes admitted, struggling to follow the unnecessarily complicated subtext he was certain he still wasn't fully grasping. Though the training activities he recalled were merely fleeting, incomplete glimpses, he recognized an underlying intensity to each and every maneuver.
Purpose.
But that established dynamic shifted whenever General Okoye or King T'Challa were in attendance.
"There is merit in Barnes's observation," Nomble remarked without looking up from the board game laying on the ground in front of her folded legs, "our training took on a different tone in their presence."
Ayo made a sour face at her Lieutenant's comment and she chose her words carefully before speaking. When she did, Barnes got the impression her words were meant not only for him, but the other three people sitting around her as well, "It was highly unusual to train with an outsider, especially when the core purpose of our exercises was not meant to initiate one into the Dora Milaje or prepare an untrained hand for combat, but to better understand and temper his existing tendencies so that he felt in control of his actions and instincts, and not the other way around."
Barnes didn't get the feeling Ayo was being intentionally obtuse, but her explanation still didn't offer clarity on why the presence of those individuals in particular caused a cascade of subtle changes in their Pack's dynamic, "But why would that have been any different when they came out to the mountain? They're highly skilled too," he pressed.
She regarded him intently, allowing him to see the truth in her eyes, "This was not a mandate of my own making or design. Our friend was cautious, especially around those he knew were high ranking among our country's hierarchy. Though he rarely chose to speak of it, I know that prior to coming to Wakanda, he was briefly forced to fight against our King, and I suspect he carried with him guilt for his actions. I believe it had a way of manifesting by his preference to temper his prowess when he sparred with either of them, or when they were present to check-in on our activities."
Barnes rolled that possibility over in his mind's eye. While Ayo wasn't being specific, he had a feeling the way she wove her words probably implied that his mind might not have been well when he apparently fought T'Challa at some point in the past, "...Did I hurt him too?"
Ayo must not have seen the question coming, because he saw the surprise in her expression, "He was fine," she assured him, "He heals quickly too. Our King holds no grudges towards you, but he has a sharp mind. He was likely aware that our friend was not fighting with all of the mettle he was known to possess."
"But you fought differently too," Barnes pressed.
At his statement, Ayo shot Yama a pre-emptive look of reprimand, as if warning her not to answer on Ayo's own behalf, "We were respectful of our friend's preference, even if we did not believe it to be necessary or optimal. It was more important to know that he was willing to show his prowess against a select few rather than not at all."
As the next comment slipped from Yama's lips, she kept her gaze focused on the board itself, as if she was carefully planning out her next turn, "We have never been for a loss in collecting those with remarkably stubborn will."
Barnes wasn't entirely certain if her comment was meant to imply Ayo, their friend, him, or some combination of available options, but he decided against seeking clarification. What mattered was that he now grasped at least the basic concept that the change in dynamic he remembered when either T'Challa or Okoye were present was of their friend's own making.
"So…" Sam began, raising a calculating eyebrow in Ayo's direction, "Are you thinking your superior officer's potentially irked about some of the… 'creative' mediation approaches… surrounding the last two days, or that there might've been some nuance she wasn't made aware of way-back-when?"
Ayo stayed silent while Yama and Nomble both feigned they weren't holding their collective breaths and chomping at the bit to hear Ayo's carefully articulated reply, "I did not find it necessary to discuss the fine details and remarkably private matters of our training methods."
So as far as Barnes could tell, the answer was 'Both.'
Nomble looked to him, apparently concerned how well he was able to follow the developing conversation, "Do you grasp the structure of how the Dora Milaje relate to one another and our charges?"
"Not entirely," he admitted.
Ayo tilted her head in their direction in an apparent acknowledgement for Nomble to offer further explanation, "The Dora Milaje are the 'Adored Ones' of the Damisa Sarki, the Black Panther. We honor Wakanda's traditions, and are the extensions of his work. We hailed from many tribes before we took up training as eager-eyed Kanwatas, but now our fellow Dora are our chosen tribe." Barnes could see a sense of immense pride shining through Nomble's words, and the shared camaraderie with the women sitting closeby.
"We are protectors of Wakanda," she continued, "We unwaveringly serve our 'Beloved' who sits on the throne with our hearts and minds. As guards. As warriors. As studious ears and able hands that remain ever-vigilant and at the ready to follow the Black Panther or be called to battle wherever he might need us, whether that is here in Wakanda, or on foreign soil."
"Perhaps we may see Doras in space one day," Yama mused aloud.
Barnes cocked his head, "Space?"
"Yama…" Ayo warned.
Nomble only smiled and rolled her eyes as she continued, "We serve with tradition, honor, strength, courage, and above-all: compassion. For it means nothing to know how to wield a blade if you cannot first see the world with clear eyes, and know that gaining clarity is not a destination, but a lifelong journey that requires you to constantly strive to be truly present physically, mentally, and spiritually. Okoye is our General and ranks highest among the Dora Milaje. Even Chief Ayo reports to her, as Yama and I report to Ayo and serve as her Lieutenants."
Barnes let her words sink in before he asked, "Like soldiers?"
Nomble considered his question a moment before answering, "Our terms are not the same as yours," she explained, "We have many in Wakanda who are willing to take up arms for various causes, but the Dora Milaje specifically serve who sits on the throne."
Even though parts of Barnes knew that he was permitted to ask questions, some embattled part of him still worried his questions could be prematurely cut off at any moment, so he pressed forward with asking the root he was getting at, "Were you volunteers?"
Nomble blinked once, twice. She clearly hadn't been expecting that question at all, "Of course. Though not all who wish to walk the path of a Dora Milaje find themselves suited to the task. Many leave before their training is complete. But there are many paths to service for those that are interested in the physical arts, and they come from all tribes and walks of life. Some serve in particular regions, others in outreach, and still others serve as our discreet eyes outside of our borders."
"The Hatut Zeraze you mentioned," Barnes specified, "your War Dogs."
She inclined her head in agreement, but as her sepia-brown eyes met his again, he could see new questions forming, ones she didn't air, but he felt them linger all the same.
"I wouldn't have realized it at the time…" Barnes slowly began, "But it's possible your War Dogs might've crossed paths with HYDRA. I don't remember much, but I don't think any of the people I was working for connected them with Wakanda, specifically, but the cornerstones of some of the tech were similar."
"Stolen technology," Ayo pointedly emphasized, her voice hard, "crafted with stolen vibranium."
Barnes had a feeling there were a host of other questions she wanted to ask, many of which he likely had no answers to, but that this was not the time to pursue them. Instead she managed only a pointed decree that she rested on him, specifically, "When the time is apt, it would be in good conscience for you to share what you recall in case you might be able to grant closure to families that are still waiting for news about those that never made their way home."
He nodded once, acknowledging the gravity of her request before turning his attention back to Nomble, "But all of you are… free to leave the Dora Milaje if you wanted to?"
Nomble's reply was compassionate as it was instantaneous, "Of course. Why do you ask?"
Her question was a fair one, but it took him a moment to trace back why he'd thought to ask it. Why it mattered. "Some of the people in HYDRA were volunteers… until they weren't. But…" he frowned, "I don't remember how or when I got these," his thumb pressed against the center of his shirt and the dog tags hidden underneath, "I know what I read in the Smithsonian. And what Steve said. I read the placards. But… I don't remember having them on when I was with HYDRA. And it's like they're… not right."
"Not right?" Sam looked across the mancala board to him curiously, "Your dog tags, you mean?"
Barnes nodded once and fished the chain under his shirt free, resting the two silver metal tags in his open palm, "They're too heavy. And they don't feel the same as… whatever ones I remember having on at some point."
"...In the Dark Place?" Ayo slowly inquired.
He shook his head, frowning, "No. I mean yes, I had them on there too, but this is a different memory. I just don't remember anything else about it. Just that I've held them before. Slightly different ones, I think." If it was well aware how ridiculous this all sounded.
"I mean I… I suppose I always assumed those were your tags. The originals. But I guess I never asked outright." Sam leaned back thinking aloud, "But it's possible our friend got some copies made at some point if the originals got taken as a trophy by the asshole brigade."
"Beyond the discrepancy in weight, what is different about them? Is it the number of lines? The spacing of the text? Or something else entirely?" Ayo pressed.
Barnes felt everyone's eyes upon him as he ran his thumb over the raised text, concentrating, "The number of lines is the same. It's something with the spacing, but it's so small I couldn't tell you what it might've been."
It appeared Sam'd locked onto something though, "Do you know where the text was different on the tag?"
Barnes pulled the nearest slip of metal up to his eyeline to inspect it at the same time he ran his thumb over the embossing, trying to pinpoint what spot was standing out as decidedly incorrect:
JAMES B BARNES
12557038 T41 42 O
R. BARNES
3092 STOCKTON RD
SHELBYVILLE IN P
"Second line," he determined, "The first digit in a list of eight numbers."
As best he could tell, the women sitting around him didn't grasp any initial significance in his proclamation, but by the way Sam's expression fell, he definitely locked-on to something, "That's the serial number," Sam offered, his voice growing surprisingly somber, "For the Army, way back when our friend originally served, that's uh… there's meaning in those first few numbers."
"Like a code?"
Sam squinted at that, "Sorta. They've changed the nitty gritty a lot over the years. Hold on, lemme look up ones from way-back when." At that Sam, pulled out his phone and used both thumbs to type directly onto the screen.
It took less than thirty seconds for his fingers to still and a frown to overtake his face. "I know you said the first digit's wrong, but based on the issue year and service branch, it can only be one of a few different numbers or letters." He took a short little breath before continuing, "But what you're sayin' there contradicts what I know. What history knows. And what Steve told me point-blank."
Barnes met Sam's eyes as he asked the obvious, "And what's that?"
"That you – our friend – didn't enlist in the Army. He might've been drafted in the War and not told anyone, though I couldn't tell you why. We'd have to know that first number to make sure."
Silence hung in the air between them, "Drafted?" The single word was meant to be a statement rather than a question. He knew what the term meant contextually, but he wasn't sure how the implications applied to him now. Was this yet another thing their friend simply hadn't known, or was the replica pair of dog tags intentionally flawed?
Where had he gotten them? When?
"I dunno man," Sam apologized, "I wish I had more to offer you. I could be wrong altogether. You sure you don't remember what letter or number was there instead?"
Barnes shook his head, "No. Only that it wasn't a 1."
After another pocket of heavy silence Ayo added, "Our friend did not speak much about that period of his life, but he was proud of the many contributions he made combating greater evils."
"...But you're saying I might not have even been a volunteer for that, even before HYDRA," he didn't like the subtle current of distress that escaped the edges of his voice.
"It's possible," Ayo agreed with that steadfast, compassionate gaze of hers, "Though I don't know what purpose it would have served to intentionally rewrite his own history."
"Or perhaps it was not his intention at all," Nomble volunteered, "That he did not know for certain, and relied on established histories that he did not realize were themselves incorrect?"
Barnes didn't have any idea, but he couldn't shake the feeling he should know more about these tags, as well as the ones floating in the periphery of his memory that didn't quite match.
Which set matched the ones he'd touched in the Dark Place? He couldn't be sure. Did it matter?
He felt like it mattered.
But those were just more questions amid the host of other questions he didn't have answers for. With a sigh of resignation, he slipped the dog tags back under his shirt and regarded Nomble in an attempt to coax her to pick up where their conversation had left off, "But if all of you serve the royal family, what does that have to do with me?"
Nomble glanced towards Ayo, as if waiting to see if she wished to step into their discourse. When she did not, Nomble continued, "It was an unusual task requested of our King, who wished to see your mind made well again."
At this, Ayo added, "So that you might find peace after so many years of being a victim."
Somewhere in his periphery, Barnes was well aware that while their game of mancala had ground to an unexpected halt, across the board from him, Sam was still rolling stones around in his palm with a distinct expression that betrayed he had questions too. Questions he was currently intent to keep to himself.
"I have also been informed that our friend's missing backpack and journals from 2016 have safely arrived within Wakanda's borders in Birnin Zana," Ayo volunteered, as an intentional, though not elegant pivot of topic. "I am hopeful we might be able to explore them later today." Her eyes rested on his, "I have spoken with Princess Shuri and requested that others refrain from pursuing their contents until you have had an opportunity to read them."
Sam latched onto the change of topic without missing a beat, "When did you start keepin' 'em?" he inquired, curious.
The question caught Barnes off guard, but it was a fair inquiry, "Within a few days of when Steve arrived in the hospital in Washington D.C. It was beneficial to log my activities, nutritional findings, medications, and surveillance observations alongside the images I saw while sleeping in an attempt to draw correlations and establish patterns. It was often unclear which were chronologically significant, particularly when I first identified that I was suffering from substantial chemical dependencies."
Sam adjusted his jaw as he placed the colored stones in his hand back in the well he'd originally pulled them out of, offering an unofficial surrender that their game was on hiatus for the time being, "You know, I almost had a smartass remark I was working my way up to until you got to the last part there. Christ."
"I logged your habits and nutritional catalogue as well."
"...Not helping, but I suppose I walked right into that," Sam sighed, "I was havin' to keep an eye on Steve too since I didn't know how all that Super-Soldiering stuff worked with regards to his recovery."
"You kept a log too," Barnes observed.
Sam snorted lightly, "Of course you'd know that. But you're saying yours were the old-fashioned type? Pen on paper kinda deal? If that's the case, wouldn't it be possible some of the notebooks they dug up recently might be from 2014, too? So there could be stuff you remember jotting down."
It was an intriguing theory. Barnes had considered the possibility that the journals Ayo mentioned might contain information from years he didn't remember experiencing, but it hadn't specifically occurred to him that their friend might've been able to make sense of his own transcribed experiences and fractured memories, "Maybe."
Sam learned back on his hands and made a face Barnes had silently dubbed his 'thinking' face while he casually glanced over his shoulder to see if there'd been any movement from inside the craft Shuri'd stepped into at least a half hour ago, "Well, you never know," Sam mused aloud, "There might be somethin' in one of 'em that could help us now, or at the very least, could fill in some blanks for you."
Ayo inclined her head in agreement, following Sam's longing gaze towards the Royal Talon and the many questions Shuri was no-doubt vetting inside.
The sight and silhouette of the ship had an odd way of reminding Barnes of the cloaked drone they'd once sought to use against him outside the Design Center. He didn't know for certain, but he thought it was likely it'd been equipped with an electrocuting projectile similar to the node currently affixed to the back of his shoulder. He didn't hold any ill will against them for their early ploy to subdue him, in fact: If it had actually worked, things might've turned out for the better. Less people would've gotten hurt. He knew that much for sure.
"Whatever happened to that remote drone you tested in Washington D.C.?" he wondered aloud into the mountain air.
Sam blinked a few times at the change of topic, "Wait, Redwing? You remember Redwing?"
Was he …smiling?
The other man continued babbling, "Now that I think about it, that would actually track, since you claim you were hanging around D.C. a lot longer than we originally thought. Huh! But if that's the case, I'm surprised Redwing never managed to catch sight of you."
"I installed a tracker on your drone," Barnes casually admitted with perhaps a hint of pride.
"You what?!"
"It wasn't difficult. I monitored your apartment and regularly accessed the premises, remember?"
Sam waved a hand dismissively and crossed his arms, "But you're serious? About the tracker?"
Barnes shrugged his shoulders, "It wasn't the only tracker."
"That's quite clever," Yama noted appreciatively.
"Don't encourage him," Sam flailed a hand in her direction, but kept his attention focused on Barnes as he leaned forward over the wooden board between them, "And I'm gonna do us both a favor to our budding friendship and not ask for clarity about whatever other trackers you're goin' on about."
"You wrongly assumed my familiarity with technology was roughly comparable to that of Steve Rogers."
Sam narrowed his eyes, but there wasn't a drop of heat in them, "Okay then, smartass, how can you be certain Redwing never caught sight of you without either of us knowing it?"
"I had two layers of proximity alarms."
"Two?"
"The transmitter and the cats."
"...Pardon?"
Yama visibly perked up, "Cats?"
In a single word, the entire tone of the conversation appeared to have shifted, but Barnes didn't grasp why, "Yes. The stray cats."
Sam looked utterly perplexed at the remark, but Yama's smile brightened and she leaned towards Barnes in rapt attention, "You had cats you tended to while in Washington D.C.?"
By her expression, this must have been new information to her and the others seated around her, but as the topic itself wasn't off putting or sensitive, so he saw no need to dissuade the tangent, "They weren't mine," he was quick to clarify, "I could just tell by their behavior that they were hungry, so I fed them."
"Did you feed them regularly?" Nomble inquired. Even her expression seemed lighter.
"Whenever they appeared to require nourishment or fresh water," Barnes specified before adding, "It was often difficult to ascertain just how hungry they actually were, because many were lied about when they'd last eaten. Is that typical of feline behavior?"
"It is," Nomble smiled.
"Some were surprisingly convincing. I have encountered many individuals with far less espionage training."
Sam groaned audibly, "Oh my god man, you're not serious, you–?"
Yama rapidly tapped Sam on the arm, as if encouraging him to squelch his brewing commentary so she could interject her own clearly more pressing questions, "How many cats did you care for?"
Barnes was fairly certain the roll of Ayo's eyes was in response to Yama's latest inquiry, but Ayo made it a point to turn towards Sam in shared resignation while they let the exchange proceed unimpeded. Barnes suspected this specific topic had been deemed oddly favorable.
"The number of cats varied with my perimeter, location, and generalized activities, but there were occasionally up to seven or eight. A number trailed me when I was on patrol. I made repeated attempts to actively persuade that type of behavior, but they were persistent."
"What colors were they?" Yama inquired with unabashed enthusiasm as she placed an elbow atop each knee and brought her hands together so she could rest her chin in her cupped palms.
At her question, Sam made a point to roll his eyes in exasperation.
Barnes thought back to the array of cats he interacted with. Was he supposed to include only the adult cats, or the kittens as well? "There were many brown, grey, and orange striped tabbies, at least three tuxedo cats with white paws and assorted asymmetrical markings, and a number of all-black cats that were difficult to visually distinguish, but could be readily identified by their highly inquisitive personalities." He went through the feline catalogue one-by-one in his mind's eye, "There was also a calico, and one all-white cat with blue eyes that regularly trespassed into my beverages and belongings."
His comments were altogether benign, but the memories they drew up were fresh and vibrant. They weren't the sparse, fractured pockets of recall from Wakanda or his time pressed into servitude under HYDRA's heel. No: These memories were fully formed. Complete. End-to-end experiences spanning the days, weeks, and months he'd been on the run in Washington D.C., and the quiet, if unexpected companionship he'd found high above the city streets.
At the time, he recognized and appreciated the value of it in his own way, but it wasn't something he was entirely capable of articulating. Maybe it was because he'd only freshly escaped from HYDRA's horrors? Or perhaps it was due to the constant thrum of pain emanating from the nails in his head and the wires snarled into his shoulder? Maybe it was even because somewhere in the back of his mind, he recognized the chilling fact that something had been done to him that left him too damaged to be able to parse out the intricacies of human expressions and what each meant?
All that he knew was that as unexplainable as it was, the presence and proximity of those often meddlesome, demanding felines had been a strange comfort to him in a perilous time where there were precious little comforts to be found.
He remembered every moment of their company. Every paw and plaintive cry demanding his attention, every wet nose, curious set of whiskers, and rough tongue. He could remember them pressing against him, pleading for just a few more seconds of scratching behind the ears or under the chin with his chrome fingers.
They didn't see him the way others saw him. They weren't afraid.
That was only two days ago.
Yet ten years had apparently passed without his knowing.
"What do you think happened to them?"
At his inquiry, Yama's smile fell away and she lifted her chin from her hands and turned her head to Sam, as if hoping he had a decisive answer, presumably since he'd inhabited the same relative area for a period of time, "No idea," Sam admitted, "Our friend never mentioned anything about cats, but we didn't really talk much about D.C. or that era of his life." Sam started to take a breath before quickly adding, "but hopefully they found good homes."
His words weren't entirely convincing, but Barnes got the impression Sam wasn't lying, so much as being broadly optimistic, which tracked alongside his budding personality profile.
"I do not know how it was in your States," Yama volunteered after a beat of resounding silence punctuated only by birdsong, "But the time during the Decimation was actually an unexpected boon for many pets."
Barnes cocked his head at that, but he didn't miss that Sam and Nomble were equally attentive, as if this was perhaps news to them too, "What do you mean?"
"Well…" Yama settled in and used both hands to speak in flourishing movements, "When half of all sentient life was cast away to the realm of our ancestors for five years, animals shared the same fate. Those of us that remained here lost friends, family, and beloved pets. Many sought out companionship in the time between, because we did not know if it was to be a lasting curse, or merely a temporary trial of will."
Yama looked towards Ayo, but her Chief's gaze was distant, cast out over the mountain's precipice as Yama continued speaking, "Those early days were a chaotic and confusing time. Parents without children. Children without parents. Loved ones gone without a trace. The explanation for what had happened reached Wakanda sooner than most, but it did not make the fallout – the sheer horror – any easier to swallow. It was like trying to breathe hot sand."
Ayo's voice arose from across the game board, heavy, as if it was overshadowed in memory, "We of the Dora Milaje sought to assist in whatever ways we could, but this was not a localized event. This was not a case of learning of a fire or tragedy among one of our neighboring tribes and lending aid. It was global, and unrelenting in its reach. But it meant we often had to quiet our private challenges in order to be fully present for Wakanda's needs. We needed to check on our people and break down doors if necessary in order to rescue young ones or beloved pets who had no one left to care for them." Ayo sighed heavily, her thoughts distant. "These are not pleasant memories," she admitted, "but it is not weakness to speak of them."
Barnes could tell that Yama and Ayo's words weren't intended for him alone, and in some way, it was almost comforting to see Sam and Nomble sharing his rapt attention to understand the sweeping ramifications of such an utterly bizarre global event.
Yama regarded Ayo thoughtfully, and Barnes got the impression that they shared similar experiences as Yama continued speaking, "Communities rallied to find homes and loving families for those that were displaced, including those pets that did not understand what had become of their owners. It was a complex time, made all-the-more troublesome for not knowing just how permanent such adoptions would be. But many put in great effort to such causes, myself included. It was a way to put emotion into action. To better lives in some small way, even though it often felt like drops of water lost in an endless, turbulent ocean." Yama leaned back, reflective, "But even after the Decimation lifted and it was justifiably cause for celebration, many of the tight bonds formed during those years and after were also complicated threads to untangle for adults, parents, children, and pets alike."
"Many are complicated still," Ayo agreed.
"I'd heard about some of this," Sam quietly admitted aloud, his expression uncomfortable but direct, "But I'm not sure I'd put some of that together. About why, for some, that second Snap actually tore down some of the healing they'd finally managed to carve out during the Blip. It's hard to imagine just what all that was like, beyond blatantly awful."
Ayo nodded somberly as Barnes tried to extrapolate out the implications of their claims, and how they related to cats he knew from Washington D.C. He directed his question to Yama, "...So you're saying it's possible the cats I interacted with might've gotten adopted?" He tried to take comfort in the idea, but it was so far removed from his recent experiences with the passingly feral felines he knew. But until now, he hadn't stopped to consider that they would have been impacted by the Decimation too, regardless of whether they persisted during it or not.
"It's entirely plausible," Yama confirmed before infusing further hope into her voice, "there might even be further information in the journals that were only recently located." She paused a moment before raising an eyebrow and adding, "...Did you name them?"
What a strange question, "No. Why would I have named them?"
She looked genuinely disappointed, "our friend helped choose names for each of the Screaming Avengers."
"Only at your insistence," Nomble pointed out, a faint smile crooking the corner of her lips.
Yama waved a hand dismissively in Nomble's direction, "It was not the chore you make the honor out to be."
Sam snorted lightly, "I guess I'm not surprised. I tried to coax him into helping name the second drone Shuri included with the new suit. When he gave me sass about it, I decided it was fitting to dub it 'JB' as a token of my appreciation for going out on a limb on my behalf. And, because it'd suitably annoy him."
Ayo tilted her inquiringly, "'JB?'"
"James Barnes," Sam offered as an all-in-one-explanation.
"You have two of those awful things now?" Barnes complained with a groan.
Sam almost looked offended, "What is it with you and drones? Our friend always had a piss-poor attitude about Redwing too. But you? You would'a barely even crossed paths with him back in 2014."
"It scared them."
Sam didn't say a word. He just looked across the wooden mancala board at Barnes like he was speaking another language, "Wait who?"
"Your stupid drone scared the cats," Barnes repeated more slowly, as if he was speaking to a child.
Barnes didn't miss the swift denial forming in every bit of Sam's posture, "What? No. That isn't how any of that would've gone down. I wasn't using Redwing to terrorize any cats. Hell: I had genuine beef against a few particular pigeons, but I didn't go out of my way to mess with them either."
Barnes crossed his arm defiantly, much to the amusement of Yama beside him, "Oh your stupid drone absolutely did."
"Redwing."
"I'm not about to acknowledge that awful thing like it even deserves a name. Even Steve thought it was overkill."
"Wow! Low blow. I'll have you know he liked the name."
Barnes shrugged, unperturbed and not the least bit fazed, "That's not what he told your friend on the phone. I believe his exact words were, 'Well, there are worse names, and if it makes him happy…'"
Sam rapidly flapped his lips and flailed a hand in Barnes's direction, "Now that's just blasphemy, but I bet I can prove to you Redwing never harassed a single one of your damn pets."
Barnes watched the group of three women pivoting their collective attention between him and Sam, as if intent to follow the continued volley of their debate without desire to interfere. Even Ayo was faintly smiling as Barnes clarified, "They weren't my pets."
"Potato, potato," Sam mocked. "Anyway, there's a chance I might even have a firsthand witness to your clearly unsubstantiated and slanderous claims." With that, he abruptly got to his feet, brushed himself off, and took a few remarkably confident steps to one side to retrieve his oversized black and silver suitcase that contained his star-clad, brightly-colored suit.
"What does that have to do with anything?" Barnes groaned.
"Hold tight Doctor Dolittle," Sam's enthusiasm blossomed but momentarily stilled, "Wait. You aren't going to freak out or anything if I bring the drones out, are you?"
"You have them with you?"
"Mmmhmm," Sam mused, "Package deal with the flight pack."
Barnes was certain he must have made a begrudging, of not outright sour expression at Sam's comment, and while he maintained he had not a single drop of interest in whatever drones were hidden away in that case of his, part of him was at least passingly… curious… about what Sam specifically wanted to show him, and how it could possibly relate to the cats he'd encountered in Washington D.C.
He could tell everyone around him was waiting on him for a response, "Fine," Barnes definitely didn't grumble aloud, "but they better not get too close."
Sam was doing what he could to push down the strange feelings of deja vou that rode right alongside that half-grumpy expression cast all over Barnes's face that wasn't the least bit threatening, but had a way of reminding Sam a little too much of Bucky and his own unsubstantiated feelings regarding the drones. But maybe that was a good thing? At least that's what Sam told himself as he used his thumbprint to unlock the case (how had Shuri gotten ahold of his thumbprint, anyway…?) and popped it open.
Around-about that time, Sam spared a wizened moment to second guess himself if this actually had the makings of a terrible idea, so he took a quick glance back to the Dora Milaje seated nearby, hoping for a last minute gut-check.
He was relieved to be met with three attentive faces that didn't look the least bit tense. If anything, Yama looked maybe a little too eager to get a firsthand look at wherever Sam was scheming, and even Ayo appeared to be relieved for the temporary distraction while they awaited their Princess's return.
"Well?" Barnes actually had the nerve to sound impatient.
"I was takin' it nice'n slow as a courtesy," Sam reasoned, silently adding 'ingrate' as he reached over and tapped a control on the left gauntlet housed inside the case. A second later, there was a quick chirp, and first Redwing, and then JB ejected themselves from the flight pack in a quick burst of motion that sent them skyborne just outside the undulating orange barrier of the dome.
The two drones made a tight, exploratory orbit around Sam, and if you'd asked him two days ago? He'd have told you it was probably just credit to their initiation programming, but now, after Shuri'd informed him they had something closer to bonafide A.I., Sam saw them just a little bit differently.
He caught them both pivoting in midair to get a read on their surroundings, and taking turns to identify each of the seated figures seated nearby. Well, except Barnes, that is. The moment Redwing and JB had popped outta the case, the man with his Partner's face had shot straight to his feet so he could keep a close watch on the drones hovering a short distance away.
Barnes didn't look irritated. Well. The 'worrisome' kinda irritated. He just looked the normal amount of irritated Buck did around Redwing.
Which was almost a little bit comforting, in a very particular way.
Sam took the opportunity to rise back to his feet, doing what he could to read the other man's expression, which had slipped back on itself and landed somewhere closer to… perplexed?
"That's not the same drone," Barnes deadpanned.
"Yeah, well, Redwing's gotten a few overhauls since you last saw him. Shuri's responsible for his current iteration here, which includes some new-fangled autonomous tech that I still need to do my due diligence and read-up on." Sam was about to add something else, but he caught JB coasting slowly closer to the barrier between he and Barnes, and Sam wanted to make sure to cut off any signs of trouble before they could manifest in even the smallest way. "Hey, how about we give Barnes here a little breathing room, okay you two?"
The drones stilled and JB made an affirmative *beep!* before he backpedaled a short distance from the shield. Not to be outdone, Redwing took up position just beside Sam and craned right.
"...Who are you talking to?"
"The drones, obviously," Sam tried to put emphasis into his declaration, but even to his own ears, it sounded not necessarily pathetic, but weak at best.
Barnes raised an eyebrow in his direction, and though he didn't say anything, Sam was well aware that the once Winter Soldier was presently questioning if Sam was the one with a few screws loose.
As if to support the Winter Toaster's visible skepticism, JB banked himself belly-out and waggled his nearest side rudder at Barnes.
Barnes's lip twitched, "...Did you just ask it to wave at me?"
"I didn't ask it to," Sam all-but defended, "He does that on his own sometimes. I think that's his way of saying 'hello.'"
"It's very cute," Yama noted appreciatively.
"...It's creepy," Barnes stated in that remarkably even tone of his while he kept his eyes locked on the two drones hovering a short distance away.
At his comment, JB emitted two progressively lower beeps, and Sam found himself smiling beside himself, "Aw, you don't need to hurt his feelings. That one's JB. You can give him a little wave back if you want."
"I am not waving at your damn drone."
A man of his word, Barnes didn't wave back, but Yama did, and the little drone turned and returned the wave enthusiastically.
Nomble, and even Ayo smiled a little at the silent exchange.
"Okay, well, the other one's Redwing. Shuri told me he has deeper memories that span all the way back to that first version you met. The one Steve convinced Tony to put together for me."
"Tony?"
Sam felt the brooding trap of resounding awful answering that could be, so he sidestepped it, "I don't think you'd met him yet. Back then. Story for another time," he quickly reasoned, doing what he could to redirect Barnes's attention, but not missing the fact that Ayo'd latched on to exactly what he had.
That none of 'em had any idea if Barnes presently remembered Howard or Maria Stark, or what he'd done to 'em at HYDRA's request.
Sam was fairly certain Barnes caught the deflection, but mercifully, didn't press the issue, "So it's the same drone you had in Washington D.C., it just looks different?"
"Basically, yeah."
"It has far more features and advanced, adaptive artificial intelligence," Nomble volunteered from her side of the mancala table, "like from the science fiction stories I've told you about."
Barnes made a sour face, "Why would anyone ever want that in a drone?"
Yama snorted, bemused.
"Aw, now there's no reason to be a poor sport," Sam crooned sweetly. "We haven't even gotten around to me proving that Redwing here most certainly wasn't causin' any strays that adopted you any unnecessary distress."
"They didn't adopt me," Barnes saw fit to clarify, but Sam's smile only brightened at the comment.
Sure, he was teasin' Barnes a little, but it was like fallin' into a natural rhythm of sorts. Sassin' folks he cared about was a type of well-honed, resonant endearment, and the fact Barnes was, intentionally or not, playing into it… well… it had a way of feeling pleasantly familiar, even under the very unusual circumstances they'd found themselves in.
While there was a part of him still gnawing about, wondering what it was Shuri'd gotten up to and what was takin' her so long, another part of Sam was genuinely interested in this whole cat deal, because the very idea of it was strange as it was unexpected, but it was also more than a little genuinely endearing.
Here, you have this idea of the Winter Soldier, the ghost, the supreme tactical assassin. The guy prolly doing cartwheels and parkour across rooftops, takin' out rogue HYRA agents and settin' up perimeters around he and Steve like they're his next mission objective. Knives. Sniper rifles. The whole deal. And Sam could imagine that.
Strange and invasive as it was, he could even picture the idea that this guy here could'a been goin' through their things and helping himself to their leftovers – prolly even going so far as using the bathroom. It was more than a little disconcerting in hindsight, but it tracked. It fit in with the bigger picture, wild as that picture was.
But the cat thing? With all due respect to Barnes here, Sam wouldn't've entrusted one of those old-school Tamagotchis to him, no less a small furry creature that wouldn't've known better, and certainly wouldn't have been able to defend itself from an assassin wearing glorified BDSM tactical gear. It wasn't like Sam though the guy was goin' around blowing the heads off'a pigeons that happened to look at him the wrong way, but… the idea of him tending to a clowder of stray cats just… did not compute.
But at the same time, seein' him now, and how careful, borderline gentle he could be… maybe it did track better than Sam'd initially thought.
Maybe he could actually see this guy here going out of his way to make sure some D.C. strays got treated better than he had. That they had the opportunity to learn and reciprocate kindness in the way only abused or abandoned animals could.
Sam shook his head, wishing for not the first time he could talk to Buck about some of this, "Anyway. So if you're claiming Redwing here was the culprit, then do you have a specific example you can give of one of his terrible trespasses?"
Barnes crossed his arms, "Pull up a map and I'll show you," he challenged.
"Alright then," Sam countered, addressing the nearest drone hovering nearby. Was it weird he could tell 'em apart? "Redwing, bring up a map of Washington D.C., circa Spring 2014," he quickly added. "Center view on my address, since apparently Barnes here was in the city longer than we thought."
At his request, Redwing opened up a small compartment on the top of his outer hull. Within seconds, an overhead projection of the District of Columbia alit in full color. Sam extended a hand towards Barnes, as if prompting him to step closer to the barrier, "C'mon. He's not gonna bite."
Barnes might've grumbled something beneath his breath, but he bridged the gap between them so he could get a better view of the dome hovering just outside the dome and its projected map. "My perimeter varied," he stated evenly.
"Okay, well do you have a date and location you remember?"
"Of course I do."
This almost-banter really was something.
"Be my guest then," Sam gave a little flourish and gestured towards Redwing and the drone bobbed amicably, earning him a remarkably dour glare from Barnes who regarded the holographic map intently before cautiously extending a finger towards a location that… couldn't've been even three blocks from Sam's apartment.
"Saturday, April 12th. Midafternoon. A little after Three o'clock. Rooftop between the scaffolding here."
"That's where you were?" Sam inquired.
Barnes shook his head and made one of those faces that was five steps from a smile, as if the answer was blatantly obvious, "No. I wouldn't have allowed myself to intentionally get in close range while you were testing the stupid thing. I was a number of blocks away, watching through my scope."
"Where?"
"Wouldn't you like to know."
Was Barnes gloating?
As he spoke, the projection above Redwing switched to a fisheyed, rectangular display and the Doras sitting nearby swiveled around in place to get a better view of the latest entertainment. Even JB inched closer to review the footage. An alphanumeric date popped up in one corner, timecode in another, while a variety of logistical information such as the altimeter, airspeed, attitude, heading, and turn indicators tucked elegantly into the sides of the artificial 'screen' in the way only Wakandan-made truly could. The fact that even the overlay was current-gen was downright fascinating.
At this early era in his fledgling relationship with Redwing, the two of them were just barely getting acquainted, and the drone had been only marginally autonomous. Ahead of military tech, sure, but he sure as hell didn't hold a candle to say, J.A.R.V.I.S. So that being as it was, Sam would've probably been helping remote-pilot him from a distance while he watched the live-feed from either his apartment or some rooftop nearby.
Part of him wanted to ask where he'd been situated at the time, but he didn't want to give Barnes any more fodder than he already had, because that jerk probably knew.
Argh!
A top-down map overlaid a corner of the screen, accompanying the typical soarin' sights over and around D.C., complete with the occasional completely reasonable coy maneuvering in and out of tight spaces at varying speeds while Sam tested his mettle with his shiny new gift from Stark.
Well. Gift from Stark to Steve to him.
Close enough.
The stabilized view out the bottom of Redwing's hull didn't display anything remarkable or feline-shaped on the drone's high-speed approach to the position Barnes'd pinpointed. For a moment, Sam considered making a snide remark that could double for a victory lap that the other man'd clearly been overreacting to something or other.
That was, until he saw an orange blur dart to the left and out of frame.
"Wait, play that back, quarter speed."
Redwing did as requested, and sure enough, clear as day, Sam could see an orange tiger tabby lounging in the sun while a white cat lapped at the contents of what looked to be a Starbucks cup a short distance away. At the drone's approach, the cats lifted their heads and the tabby immediately hauled tail and darted away, while the white cat puffed up and arched his back in defiance until the cat passed out of frame.
"Well I'll be damned," Sam managed, gobsmacked, "None'a that was intentional. I might've even been remote-piloting Redwing at the time, but I didn't notice him or any of his other friends."
"Her," Barnes swiftly corrected without missing a beat.
More'n one head swiveled his way at the proclamation, and Sam's mouth might've even hung open for a beat longer than he intended as he drank in and genuinely tried to absorb this whooooooole thing.
See, Barnes might've been struggling to believe the wild reality that time'd somehow skipped forwards ten or so years from where he'd last picked up, but comparatively, even though Sam didn't necessarily think Barnes was lying about being in D.C. longer than he and Steve'd assumed, Sam was still finding it sizably hard to swallow that the man he'd mistaken for some sort of deranged amnesia case had actually been out there, working by his own rules to carve out something of a life for himself during those early years.
And not just that, apparently. That Johnny 5 here had been single handedly picking off some lingering HYDRA agents while he kept tabs on him, Steve, and maybe even Nat while he was, what? Making friends with the local strays? It sounded too bizarre to even be real, but here it was, right in front of 'em. Proof in the pudding and all.
And the man beside him remembered.
…Had Buck? At least in some fraction of clarity?
Barnes squinted at the display, and Sam could catch a whiff shimmering around the edges of the other man's mind, "What is it?"
He kept his head planted in place, but his blue eyes glanced to Sam and back to the display as if he were deep in deliberation of if he wanted to air what he was presently percolating on. He chewed his lips before he remarked, "It's… strange. That the drone here might have recordings from days after the ones I remember. Like it can see into the future. Sort of."
While JB drifted up over Sam's shoulder like some sort of hovering vibranium parrot, he snorted lightly at Barnes's comparison, but he grasped at what the other man was getting at, "Yeah. And I dunno if Redwing managed to inadvertently catch sight of you in D.C., but I'm pretty sure he managed to come close a few times later-on in other cities."
Barnes made a curious expression at that, as if he was deliberating about asking for further details. He settled on, "Where did he go? Your friend, I mean."
A quiet sigh escaped Sam's lips as he motioned for Redwing to close the projected display. The little drone did as requested, turning to explore the colored stones dotting the mancala board nearby. Yama watched the drone, but Sam could tell everyone's attention was squarely focused on the words he was working to form in his own mouth.
"He was a bit of a ghost case, but he eventually ended up overseas in Bucharest, Romania. I couldn't tell you for sure how long he was out there, but he even managed to get a place of his own. Bed, lamp, chairs, a little kitchenette, the whole nine yards. Might've even been able to settle in, too, were it not for that mess with Zemo that forced him out of hiding." Sam tilted his head before adding, "But hey? Least it landed you here eventually."
Sam caught the slip and it was apparent from Barnes's expression that he had too, but he surprised all of 'em by adding, "It's okay. I remember being here. In Wakanda. Even if it isn't much."
And that… that admittance was something powerful.
Barnes didn't make a big deal about it, and of course he wouldn't, but Sam could feel that subtle shift. The acknowledgement of shared history and kinship Sam was having trouble putting a name to until he happened to catch a glimpse at Yama. That jubilant smile shining across her face said it all. He could practically hear her enunciate it, that mouthful of Wakandan syllables for 'Pack Bond.'
'Ukupakisha ibhondi.'
That's what Barnes was diggin' at. What he now apparently accepted as an honest-to-god truth even if his fractured mind was struggling to make sense of it all.
And that was all-kinds of significant, too.
So maybe Sam got a little sentimental and a whiff amused as Barnes tentatively reached out an exploratory finger towards Redwing while making it look like it wasn't a big deal. The drone stayed put for a moment before ever-so-slowly pivoting its fuselage towards him so its pointed 'head' was mere inches away from the other man's pointer finger.
Sam couldn't know what the drone did or didn't understand about this whole 'Barnes' situation, but strange as the sight was, it was just… nice. Peaceful. Remarkably unproblematic, all things considered. It had a way of making Sam wonder about a lot of things, up to and including those strays Barnes tended to back in D.C. Had he been like this with them? All slow, careful, and considerate? Had there been other cats or dogs on other continents?
Sam'd spent so many years viewing the the escaped Winter Soldier in a very particular light, as something a hell of a lot closer to a scheming, dangerous fugitive, and trained deadly assassin that he'd sometimes wondered how he even managed to return to someone like that 'Bucky' Steve so fondly remembered.
And now? It made Sam wonder if he'd gotten it wrong the whole time, and maybe even Buck had too. Maybe it wasn't about escaping HYDRA and finding a way back to who he was. Maybe, just maybe there'd been more forward trajectory than any of 'em had ever given Buck credit for along the way.
That comment Buck'd made, the one from back in Delcroix? About thinkin' maybe he should'a added the Winter Soldier to that book of his before he'd turned it in?At the time, Sam had some manner of his own interpretation of what flavor of gnarled skeletons Buck was digging around when he made that remark, but Sam'd thought maybe Buck was holding back. That he had clarity to offer, but it was too uncomfortable to pinpoint it and pull it into the light. Sam hadn't stopped to consider that maybe it was more like a lingering feeling, like a few stray grains of sand slidin' around in your shoe months after bein' to the beach.
Because now, what Sam found himself thinkin' was that at the time, Buck'd made the remark on account of him wanting to put that rancid part of his life behind him. Avenge, notify families, and move forward, like he'd done with people that'd done wrong to him, and the cascade of awful they'd put him and others through over more years than Sam'd even been alive.
But what if that hadn't been that at all? What if it was a different type of closure altogether that'd been eluding him all along? One he was struggling to put a name to?
What if somewhere deep down, Buck'd come to realize that maybe things weren't so clear cut? That it wasn't one or the other? Not just 'Bucky' or 'the Winter Soldier': choose one?
Maybe it'd been him all along, in some way, in some manner of speaking?
And maybe even he deserved some drops of kindness and understanding too?
It was a lot to take in for sure. More questions'n answers, and then some. But in that moment, standin' out in that morning sun, he just saw a man. Lost as the rest of them, haunted with his own share of guilt and regrets. But Sam'd known monsters, he'd met more than one face-to-face, and this guy here wasn't one of 'em.
Who knows? Maybe that was why he'd managed to make it out the other side of all that horror that'd been wrought upon him for all those years?
Sam'd been so distracted by the silent sentimental scene of man'n drone playin' out in front of him that he hadn't caught Shuri's exit from the rear hatch of the Royal Talon parked nearby. When he looked over at her, Sam expected to see a bit of pride on her face to see Barnes reaching out towards one of those beloved drones of hers, but though Sam could see a smile on her face, he could tell by the subtle wrinkles between her eyebrows that there was more goin' on under the surface, and whatever news she had to deliver wasn't entirely the good sort.
She met his gaze and held it as she stood in the opening of the hatch and wordlessly watched from afar. Her structured composure had a way of reminding Sam of more'n a handful of world-wizened faces over the years. That gentle grace of wanting to offer someone a few more precious moments of joy and innocence before delivering news that was bound to irrevocably force them to confront uncomfortable truths.
And as Shuri leaned against the side of the doorframe, Sam saw that in her expression. That she was drinkin' in the beautiful simplicity of the scene before her, knowing that the next time she spoke, something was bound to change.
Sam didn't know exactly what it was, but he decided it wouldn't hurt to turn his attention back to Barnes and that curious drone his cyborg counterpart looked all-but-intent to befriend against his instincts and better judgment.
"I still don't like you," Barnes's words were meant for Redwing, but the drone only chirped out a pleasant *Beep-eep!* at the acknowledgement.
And Sam found himself… smiling… doin' what he could to commit the moment to memory. To appreciate the sheer ridiculous irony at how it reminded him a little bit of a high-tech version of that Michelangelo painting, 'The Creation of Adam,' because he had a sinking feeling the quiet levity of the moment wouldn't last for long.
[Chapter Art, by murkycrush]
[ID: A painting by murkycrush showing Barnes and Sam standing in golden green Wakandan grass with two of Sam's flight drones. We are above their heads, looking down on the figures below. Barnes has his right arm extended and is holding his hand aloft so that his pointer finger is near to the nose of the closest red, silver, and blue drone. Barnes appears intensely focused on the curious drone at his fingertip, while Sam is to one side of him, visibly amused as he smiles, clutching his arms together. The far drone is tilted over Sam's nearest shoulder. Barnes has a strand of Kimoyo Beads around his right wrist, and is wearing a light blue t-shirt, blue pants, and a blue and gold trimmed shawl that is slung over his gunmetal silver and gold prosthetic arm. Sam is wearing a salmon-colored t-shirt and blue pants. End ID]
I'm thrilled to share a piece of art that murkycrush ("murkycrush" on Twitter) created to accompany a very particular drone-focused moment of this chapter… :) It's nice to have a brief moment of levity amid some understandably more fraught and concerning times, but I loved the idea of Barnes and Redwing finally meeting on 'better' terms, in a sort of "How to Train your Dragon"-inspired moment here, even if the two of them look very different from how they did way back when Barnes was on the run in Washington D.C.
Please do yourself a favor and check out murkycrush's Twitter and Tumblr accounts to see more of their beautifully emotive art! I love how much mood and emotion they put into their pieces, and it's such a treat to include their art in this story!
[Chapter Art, by Sam]
[ID: A painting by Sam (Hail-Hawk-Eye) showing the bright and airy interior of a European hotel room with a beautiful daytime view of the city through a window on the far side of the room. Closer to us, Sam and Bucky are sitting atop a bed while two of Sam's Wakandan drones patrol the room. Sam is smiling and sitting with his legs dangling off the bed and wearing a tan shirt, green and black jacket, and blue jeans and is using his hands to talk. Bucky is sitting cross-legged beside him atop the bed. Bucky is leaning onto his gunmetal silver and gold prosthetic arm and looks decidedly unimpressed. He is wearing a maroon t-shirt and black pants and is doing his best to ignore the curious red, silver, and blue drone that is observing him from just over his left shoulder while a second drone zooms around in the background of the room. End ID]
Sam ("HailHawkeye" on Instagram) was also kind enough to lend his creative talent to illustrate another drone-infused scene from Chapter 5: "Flight to Symkaria," way back when Sam offered to let Bucky name one of the drones, and when Bucky decided to be a smartass about it… Sam decided to name the second one JB ("James Barnes"). It's a glimpse back to simpler times, and I've gone ahead and added the art to that chapter, but I wanted to make sure you didn't miss it here! I especially love their expressions. Bucky is just so DONE with this drone baloney. XD
Please check out Sam's Instagram, Twitter, and Tumblr accounts to see more of his fun, character-infused art! I love his comic style and how he brings his characters to life, and you should absolutely check out his other work!
Please check out this chapter on Archive of Our Own to see the art and link to their social media pages and to see more of their art!
Once again: Immeasurable thanks to both murkycrush and Sam for capturing these adorable scenes with Redwing, JB, Sam, Bucky, and 'Barnes.' ;)
Author's Remarks:
What a week!
- Half a Million Word Milestone - So with this update, we've surpassed half a million words, which is just… utterly insane to me! I love feeling that we're deep into this story, and I'm so excited for everything that's ahead of us on this journey, and I can't wait to share it with you! Thank you again for your continued encouragement that helps keep me fueled on these long days of writing and editing. I am intent to see this story through, even if it has ended up being a… great deal longer and more involved than I originally planned.
- Barnes's Dog Tags - Could it be I'm trying to formulate a train of logic to explain some of the inconsistencies surrounding this within canon? Why yes, yes I am…
- Pets (and Children, and so on…) and the Decimation - I can hardly imagine just how AWFUL it was right after the Decimation hit, no less the time after it came to a close and billions of people and animals suddenly reappeared to be met with "Okay, what NOW?" especially for babies/children/pets that had been adopted during those five years. Like the whole thing is just utterly wild to me, and sometimes I wish the MCU dug into the sheer global impact a bit more, but in the absence of that, it's nice to touch upon bits and pieces of it in this story and hopefully make readers wonder right along with me.
- The Longstanding Origins of Why Bucky/Barnes Loathes Redwing - So Bucky's interactions with Redwing in TFATWS made me laugh, but I also wanted to know why he had so much beef with the drone with it didn't seem like he had the opportunity to have many interactions with it. So for me, it tracked that he probably had a few notable interactions with Redwing when he was on the run, but I wanted to dig even DEEPER as to why he pointedly and actively loathed the thing. And so there you have it: His early interactions with Redwing included the fact that the drone (unintentionally) distressed the cats, so it had a way of earning his ire.
- Redwing and JB - I've been wanting to get back to these two, but I wanted the time to be right, and here we are… If you're fond of curious drone shenanigans and clever cats, you might consider checking out my completed standalone short story, "Operation Tender Paws."
Edited to "We Are Saved," by Borrtex.
Thank you for all the kind words and prayers regarding my friend as well. He was in a coma for about two weeks but just woke up! While he's not out of the woods yet, I'm hopeful he has a path to recovery ahead of him. In the wake of that incredible news, it feels like I can finally breathe again!
I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It's been an exciting week for Marvel news at San Diego Comic Con (Yay for the next Captain America movie getting a proper title, too!), and that Wakanda Forever trailer was just incredible as it was moving. I can't wait to see all that's ahead! (It was fun to pick out clips with Okoye, Ayo, Nomble, and Yama in the trailer, as well as Aneka, who we hadn't seen in the MCU to-date yet!)
As always, thank you for your continued readership, comments, and for sharing your thoughts with me. It means a lot to me to know that there is a cozy little community that has sprung up around this story! It means the world to me. ❤