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.

72. The Surface Tension of Gambits

I hope you enjoyed the previous chapter! We're diving right back into the thick of things now…

I created a sketch inspired by some "feels" contained in this chapter that you can see over on Ao3.

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

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Winter of the White Wolf

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Chapter 72 - The Surface Tension of Gambits

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Summary:

General Okoye continues to test Barnes's latent instincts in new ways that offer unexpected insights…

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Somewhere in there, maybe Barnes had wanted to learn a little more about Okoye too. To test her, like she was seeing fit to test him. But in the wake of his risky gamble to claim one of the General's removable Dora Kimoyos, his actions had been met with of all things, humor.

He hadn't been accounting for that possibility. At best, he'd hoped claiming the bead might've awarded him an honorary victory. At worst…?

At worst, somewhere deep in his gut he imagined how any of the agents of HYDRA might've reacted to his bold choice, and the rounds of painful enrichment that would have followed in the wake of his unscripted actions. At his daring to use the imprint of their own fingers against them to lay claim to their coded handiwork.

But although Okoye could have easily reacted with alarm or offense, it appeared she didn't view his actions as a threat against her or anyone else. Logically, such a response might've been a foregone conclusion, considering he'd freed a specific bead from her wrist that could be armed into a sonic weapon with the right presses and commands.

That clearly hadn't been his intention. He wouldn't have considered trying to use it against her or anyone else, assuming it was even possible to begin with. Just the fact he'd managed to slip it out from under her nose had been enough to impress her, earning not her ire, but the opportunity to continue to train in her presence, which he was coming to view as a strange but equally compelling reward of its own.

At first, Barnes hadn't wanted the exercises to be cut short because of what that failure represented. The idea that if Okoye and T'Challa departed, Barnes would be left with the same unanswered questions he'd had about if it was 'safe' for him to be around other people, or if he posed a bridled danger regardless of his intent. But the longer he spent with her, the more facets of her floated to the surface.

She was hard. Stern. Demanding. But she didn't treat him like glass, or like he was merely a thing. Her attentive eyes and predatory will were at times overbearing, but they pushed not only him, but the women around him to the limits of their own discomfort, but not over. It was as if Okoye had a superhuman ability to sense when someone's cup was full, and to know there was still more she could coax out of them without breaking. That she could see limits even they could not.

Nomble'd asked him to be willing to extend the trust he had with them to include Okoye and T'Challa, and while it wasn't an easy ask, he now understood why it was so important.

This was a different type of trust, but one that Barnes found himself increasingly aware of, even with the assortment of bruises and torn skin he was steadily collecting right alongside those training with him. And that much was obvious too: In Okoye's mind, he and her Doras were not strictly at odds. They were all working together, allied together, even as they faced off across the grassy mountain meadow towering high above the sprawling valley below.

True to Okoye's word, they weren't going easy on him, but whether they were consciously aware of it or not, their combat maneuvers differed from the majority of the piercing 'training' practices HYDRA had subjected him to. He didn't have to extrapolate much to assume that the bulk of the blank spots from those years probably weren't any more tender or compassionate.

But he wondered… what had happened to them? To the people that had done so much to him…?

And what did they know that he didn't?

For not the first time, he pushed the many questions that haunted him aside, choosing to focus on the continued carousel of ever-changing challenges placed on first him, and then the women surrounding him as well.

Some of them were straightforward. Timed maneuvers bent on testing maneuverability, agility, strength, and focus, while others were clever means to test him, not because there was hope to see him fail, but because even he hadn't ever had reason to test certain limits.

For instance: He knew the importance of using light pressure while holding delicate items, but Okoye stretched his focus to its limits by rapidly procuring different items for him to interact with while in the throws of heavy combat. Her commands came in rapid succession: to throw a punch, then catch a clay cup. Guard someone acting as a Quarry while trading blows with those that sought to claim a win, all the while being asked to grasp fragile glass or pieces of easily-bruised fruit in his other hand, or between two fingers. They were curious challenges to be sure, ones he worried he might slip up with, but the longer they worked together and the more difficult the opposition, the more it was as if Barnes could feel his own confidence grow.

His performance wasn't flawless, but he was quick to realize that Okoye wasn't seeking perfection from him or any of the Dora Milaje surrounding her, but acute awareness of their actions and reactions. Their propensity to adapt and learn from their mistakes.

And Barnes did what he could to work with them in earnest, even if it meant more than his fair share of hits along the way.

The first pronounced injury that halted their exercises was a counter-move that landed in Yama's thumb snapping backwards with a quick, wet *crack.* She ground her teeth, insisting between labored breaths credit to their recent training exertions, "It is alright. It didn't even break the skin."

Barnes frowned, knowing it was his pivot that'd caused the injury, but Yama waved the fingers of her good hand in his direction dismissively before plucking free one of her medical Kimoyo Beads in order to place it against her skill and dull the pain, "Do not look so sullen. Such training injuries are to be expected. In just a few minutes all will be fine again."

It was around that time that Okoye stepped closer, inspecting the damage, and Barnes was guessing their General's proximity had a direct correlation on Yama's willingness to speak up of her own accord. But before she could say anything more, Ayo interjected herself, speaking to Yama in a tone that Barnes read as an official means to grant permission for her Lieutenant to speak, "Would you prefer assistance?"

"Only for someone to fetch the portable regeneration stabilizer, my Chief. I would like to treat it myself."

For Barnes's benefit, Nomble mouthed the words 'show off' from where she stood just behind Okoye.

"I will grant your request, but you will permit Sam Wilson to observe. You will step him through the mending process. It is valuable for the nuances of such skills to be more widely exposed so they may be put to use elsewhere when needed."

"Yes, my Chief," Yama readily agreed.

Okoye lifted her head to add, "There is a second stabilizer stored aboard the ship King T'Challa and I arrived in on. Fetch it as well."

"Yes, General," Nomble inclined her head and trotted off to collect the medical devices while Barnes watched Okoye's mahogany eyes dart between Ayo and Shuri in some unspoken language that was just out of his depth. He couldn't piece together their meaning, but he didn't get the impression she was cross with him for the inadvertent injury he'd caused.

As if summoned, Shuri stepped closer to them, "T'would be good to take a short break to hydrate and mitigate light injuries so they do not constrict further training."

At first, Barnes suspected she might've been referring to the cut on his shoulder, but he got the feeling there was another reason she politely shepherded him away from the conversations brewing nearby.

While they waited for Nomble's return, Okoye slipped into a private conversation with Ayo in that coded language of theirs he couldn't understand, and had been surprised to learn Shuri couldn't either. From what Shuri had said to Sam a short while earlier, it was a language spoken exclusively by the Dora Milaje. Barnes couldn't be sure, but if he had to guess by Okoye's eyeline? The topic might've been concerning Ayo's knee.

Nearby, T'Challa embraced the brief break in activities by turning his attention to a series of pending holographic messages he smoothly reviewed over his open palm. Judging by his focused expression, Barnes doubted they brought pleasant tidings, but by the fact the King didn't glance his way, Barnes doubted it had to do with him.

A few steps beyond T'Challa, Yama waved Sam over to show off her broken thumb, and the two quickly steeped themselves into conversation over the capabilities and various settings and treatment plans their medical technologies afforded them. In the meantime, she let him hold her medical Kimoyo Bead as she detailed some of its primary uses.

Nomble was quick to return with the two portable regeneration stabilizers, and after dropping off one with Yama, she made tracks to hand the other off to Shuri before taking up a guard position beside her.

"And how are you feeling?" Shuri's nearby voice called for his attention.

The genuine smile she offered him was pleasant and unhurried, though Barnes recognized Nomble's present posting as proper protocol rather than implying any judgment levied against him, or an unabashed risk of further testing his reflexes outside of official training. "Alright," he admitted. "Are the supplementary scanners of yours working okay?"

"They are," Shuri confirmed, "It is difficult to swiftly draw conclusions from live data, of course, but at a glance, I believe there might be similarities between the cerebral scans produced during the instructional lessons from our General and those from the 'Sunset Exercise' from earlier."

Barnes snorted lightly, "Is that what we're calling it now?"

The grin at her lips only grew as she plucked her own medical Kimoyo Bead free and coursed it a short distance away from his skin in a preliminary full-body scan, "It is. Though I should say what you managed with Okoye's Cry of Ngai Bead may be worthy of a name as well. That was a bold move I have not seen managed outside of activities where mock training beads are intentionally set to be untethered so they can be freely collected." She cocked her head, "Do you recollect such exercises?"

For not the first time, he shook his head, "No. I just… it's hard to explain. But it's like I recognized the symbol. I knew it was a removable bead that could be used as a weapon, but that it would be benign once I had it in my hand. So I knew if I got ahold of it or accidentally dropped it, no one would get hurt. I just hoped she wouldn't take it as a threat."

"It was a bold and clever play," Shuri agreed, "Especially against our esteemed General. You were not worried she might be cross with you?"

"I considered it," he admitted, watching her review his latest scans, "But I guess I figured if she did, if it made her angry, then I'd learn something valuable about her too." Barnes kept his voice at what he hoped was a respectable level as he added curiously, "You've trained together, too?"

"Many times," Shuri emphasized, "Odd as it may sound to an outsider, it is remarkably difficult to find those willing to train in earnest against those of us who are members of the royal family. Too often, others are needlessly tentative and overly cautious in all the wrong ways. General Okoye is none of these things. She treated me as a young warrior in need of guidance when many around me were content to merely see me walk in the shadow of others. To focus exclusively on my many sciences and technologies. But I thank her for those lessons and many bruises and broken bones. Wakanda and her people are stronger for her wisdom and resolve."

"Speaking of…" Shuri drummed her fingers across her nearest read-out while Nomble's boot discreetly tapped against Barnes's metal water bottle resting in the grass nearby, a wordless reminder that he should use the time available to him to its fullest before their exercises resumed. "While Yama sees to her thumb, would you allow me to stabilize the cracks across your ribs so they do not worsen? They cannot be comfortable."

Barnes forced down a wince as he took a swig from the water bottle, "They didn't puncture anything."

"Is that a yes? Or do you first need to have them break entirely before one of us can coax proper self care from you?"

"Fine," he half-grumbled, knowing better than to debate the merit of her suggestion. It did hurt, and if he was going to continue to take hits from those remarkably rigid spears, he knew they risked doing more serious damage if his lingering injuries were left unchecked.

Rather than wait for the Princess to ask him to raise the hem of his shirt so she could more easily survey the damage, he took another sip from the water bottle and set it aside before lifting his left arm. Without making a fuss, he stretched his other hand across his chest to pull up the side of his shirt, revealing a collection of angry red bruises stretched along his torso like patterned tattoos. As Shuri got to work with her portable regeneration stabilizer, Barnes glanced over at Nomble, "I'm surprised you don't need this more than me. I landed a few solid hits on you back there too."

Nomble's eyes glanced to Shuri, as if inquiring if she should continue to remain silent or address his concern.

Shuri picked up on the exchange immediately, "It is a fair question, but it is likely more appropriate for me to answer given the nature of your inquiry and the sensitivity surrounding the Dora Milaje and their garments." She considered her work on mending his ribs as she spoke, "The standard issue suits of the Dora Milaje are fabricated with vibranium weave, which includes kinetic redistribution technology. There are other secrets to its many layers which might be deemed inappropriate for me to detail, but in brief: it allows for surprisingly thin and resilient armor that absorbs nearly all of the impacts made against it."

"Like your armor."

The corner of Shuri's face upturned in a smirk, "And that of my brother, yes." Barnes looked out across the grass where the man in question stood immersed in a series of holographic text exchanges. Based on the grave expression cast over his face, whatever he was reading must've not been good news.

"And Sam too," Shuri was quick to add, "The suit I fashioned for him shares much of the same technology, though a more traditional manner of application, like those of our Dora. It is a preferable form of function for their unique purposes."

Barnes bit his lip as he watched Shuri sort through menus on the portable regeneration stabilizer and adjusted the target depth to hone-in on the underlying bone. "...Did your friend have a suit like any of those?"

The Princess blinked rapidly. She was surprised enough by the question that she momentarily struggled to multitask, which was saying something for her, "He… No, well… yes, but not in the way you mean, I think. We manufactured a uniform for him in a hurry so he could join us in a battle that came to our doorstep, but I do not know what became of it. He did not seek another such protective garment, except for the one he requested for Sam. The one you saw stored in his case." The Princess extended a hand towards a nearby log across the camp where Sam's prominent shield rested between his blue and red bedroll and black and silver vibranium briefcase.

Barnes wasn't entirely following the order of events, "Wait. He requested that for Sam?" He didn't miss that Nomble raised an eyebrow at the question, as if she too was curious to hear Shuri's answer.

The Princess's response wasn't necessarily slow in coming, but Barnes felt her fingers briefly still amid their work as she formulated a suitable reply, "It was a favor he asked of Ayo, and with it: of myself and Wakanda. After some deliberation, we chose to grant his request, as it was the right and honorable thing to do. To ensure that he had suitable fortified armor for the role he chose to take, and to know that he had allies here among us." Shuri raised her head to him, "Wakanda's history with the rest of world is highly complex, but many of us have come to consider him a descendant of battatu, or 'lost ones.' A discussion for another time, I think, but it speaks to a willingness to seek kinship and show support in difficult times."

For not the first time, Barnes sighed in resigned frustration while Shuri returned to her work, "I don't remember any of that."

"I know."

"...But something else happened, didn't it?"

Barnes couldn't easily see her face, but her voice grew softer yet, "Yes, but it is in the past now. You do not need to answer for mistakes our friend made with the best of intentions."

He wanted to press her for more details, to understand more about this person, and this life he didn't remember, but motion from just a few steps behind Shuri moved across his periphery. The source of the distraction was none other than Sam Wilson, who pocketed his phone as he wove his way over to join them.

Shuri cocked her head at his approach, her tone seamlessly slipping back into its familiar inflection, "I'd thought you were learning more about our portable stabilizers from Yama?"

Sam forced out a light snort, but it was empty of the humor he'd clearly intended to convey, "I was, up until the point I decided it couldn't hurt to take a peek at my phone and catch up on reading some work emails. Next thing you know, Yama was tellin' me she'd show me another time when I wasn't so distracted by, as she put it, 'Captain America business.' Then she shooed me off with that broken thumb of hers. 'Prolly so she could listen in on whatever it is Okoye and Ayo are in the trenches about."

"Is everything okay?" Shuri was quick to inquire, "With your matters, I mean?"

Sam took a deep breath in and out as he settled himself on the nearest log, "As it could be under the circumstances, yeah. Just a lot goin' on the local and international fronts, and not nearly enough information comin' in elsewise."

Barnes watched Sam tap his fingers idly against the log, and when no one furthered the conversation, he saw his opening and went for it, "...Did you get any updates or intel about Symkaria?"

His question prompted a singular eyebrow-raise from Sam, followed by a glance between he and Shuri that suggested he was deliberating if he should give Barnes's question air or shut it down since T'Challa'd recently asked him to put aside considerations surrounding Symkaria for the time being. But it wasn't like Barnes was pressuring Sam about traveling there himself, he was just asking a follow-up question. Making conversation.

No harm in that, right?

Shuri merely offered Sam a casual shrug and returned to working on Barnes's ribs, granting Sam unofficial permission to respond.

He stretched his fingers self-consciously as he watched Shuri in her element, "Not much," he admitted. "There haven't been any hits overnight, but there's been a break-in that was… shall we say 'atypical' that's makin' Rhodey wonder if our guy is still hangin' close by, or if he's skipped town and this is just another flavor of local crime by someone who's capable of breaking off doorknobs and bending hinges. Hard to say, especially when we're entering this weird era of ours when super-strength isn't the exceptional rarity it used to be."

"Just because he has super-strength it doesn't mean he's your killer, either."

"That's what I just said," Sam clarified before glancing over his shoulder, and then lowering his voice conspiratorially as he slid a little closer to Shuri, Barnes, and Nomble, "Could be unrelated, another person entirely. Maybe not."

"Well, what was stolen?"

"See, that's the thing," Sam flourished a hand, as if moving his fingers was necessary for two-way conversation. "The early reports Rhodey managed to get a hold of are saying nothing of value was taken. Just a break-in that trashed the place, which makes me wonder if the person was lookin' for something in particular they didn't find, or –"

"– Or the owner didn't want to reveal what was taken," Barnes finished.

Sam chewed his lip like he was considering a smart retort, but he kept it bottled-up before putting a few whiffs out in the open, "Just to make sure we're all on the same page here, we don't technically even know if someone with super-anything is responsible for the hits that've been taking out a number of high-profile individuals and every last member of their royal family. It's just our standing assumption based on the fact we caught a video clip of someone who was or is out there leaping between buildings in Aniana, and, separately, it seems likely some of the hits came from city rooftops."

He frowned, unsettled, "But it's got a lot of people understandably scared because the killer or killers are still at-large, and we still don't know what their end-game is. A lot of folks are inclined to believe it's strictly political, especially since one of the family members was apparently outside of Symkaria when they got taken out, but it's unclear who's calling the shots or if they plan to escalate things further. Lotta finger-pointin' happening too, accusations of this being an attempted power-grab by a neighboring country, and even if they can eventually find the killer, things might already be destabilized beyond repair by that point. It's a mess, and it's only getting worse the longer he's at-large. The kinda worse that could lead to a civil war. From what I hear? The representatives that survived are holed up in safe-houses, but the whole royal family was taken out. Every last one of 'em."

That was… grim. Barnes debated if he wanted to say the next part out loud, but he pushed himself to do it anyway, "Assuming the person responsible for that break-in is the same guy, we know he's a professional. And if he's being sanctioned to extract something, he might even be intentionally trying to obscure what he's after."

Sam's voice grew softer yet, just loud enough that Barnes was pretty sure he was hoping to keep the conversation from drifting to the people standing a short distance away, "It's possible. But could be we're seein' shadows that aren't connected at all. Hard to say."

Barnes caught the hitch in Shuri's breathing, and she discreetly glanced over her shoulder once before wordlessly pulling another Kimoyo Bead free from the strand around her wrist and placing it in Barnes's hand. He didn't recognize the symbol etched into it, but Shuri slid the tip of one finger across the top to activate it, prompting it to emit a three dimensional holographic display of a five story building to populate over his palm. "Your intel is incomplete," Shuri noted, keeping her voice low, "there was a second break-in, though it was a distance from the other. Forced entry, but not reported."

"How did you…?" Sam began.

"Our operatives may not seek direct involvement in certain international matters, but it is apt to stay up-to-date about these and other events." Shuri turned her attention to Barnes curiously, "The individual fled when the occupant returned home. It is a long shot, but do you chance to recognize the building?"

Barnes frowned and used three fingers to zoom the holographic display out to a wider street view that looked out over a courtyard and adjoining residential block of the city. He rotated the display once before shaking his head and zooming in to focus back on the specific window Shuri'd indicated. It looked no more remarkable or familiar than a dozen different flats he'd peered into over the years, "No, but… why do your informants think it's related?"

Shuri tapped a finger near the corner of the frame, "Because the front door remained secured, and our quiet thief entered and exited through a window that would not have been accessible to anyone but a skilled expert in their craft, as well as–"

"–someone who could make the climb to get up there in the first place," Barnes finished, zooming out again as he began to put things together. Shuri was right about that too. It wasn't an impossible climb, but the sloped roofs of the city didn't make navigating into or out of the entry point a straightforward task, especially if the person doing it had been in a hurry. His eyes scanned the readouts for clues, for mistakes.

"It had to have been someone with augmented strength or tech," Barnes concluded.

"Why do you say that?" Shuri inquired as Sam took the initiative to lean in closer. Unprompted, Nomble sidestepped to help provide polite cover for their budding conversation.

"See look," Barnes used his fingers to reframe the exterior view of the window, "if someone wanted to gain entry, they still needed a way to access the window. Depending on someone's preferences, they might use a grappling hook, zip-line, razor wire, something to grip the top ledge there so they could get in and out in a hurry. But the fact there aren't contact marks there means it wasn't necessary. There's a chance they could've been using some sort of propulsion system to gain access, but that wouldn't explain the dent in the molding around the edge here, where it connects to the frame. They were holding on, waiting for the right moment to drop down into the street below." He looked up between Sam and Shuri, "Whoever our burglar is, he doesn't need a tether to get down a five story drop: He jumped it."

Sam let out a breath of air through his teeth that might'a been a whistle had he been inclined to call attention to himself, "Well shit."

"When were the scans taken?" Barnes asked Shuri, "How soon after the forced entry?"

"We can't be sure, but perhaps half an hour. Maybe less."

"After the clean-up?"

Shuri shook her head, "We don't believe so. I was told the condition seen through the sheers in our scans was much like how it was found."

"But you said this break-in wasn't reported?"

"Our ears on the ground found this curious for the reasons you so recently stated," she cocked her head, "But I wonder what else you see that we might not?"

Barnes knew what she was digging at without being unnecessarily direct about it: If this had been his mission, how might he have gone about it?

Her question had a way of reminding him of similar lines of inquiry when he was constripted into service under HYDRA. The call and response and precision that was paramount in all of his missions from start to finish. He had to plan for entries and exits, for kill orders, evidence, and a thousand and one different contingencies along the way. What allies were expendable, which weren't? What targets needed to be interrogated before they were eliminated? Brought in alive or killed? Leave their bodies where they were, or dispose of them without a trace?

But above all: Complete the mission. Leave no witnesses.

Sam murmured something low in his throat, but didn't give it further air as Barnes wet his lips with his tongue and tried to step himself through what little he knew, "If he left the place in good condition, he was probably hoping to avoid detection. In and out without a trace. But if this is the same guy, we know he has taken out some high-ranking officials, so he's not opposed to… leaving no witnesses.. so it's unclear why he would have immediately left the premises when the occupant returned home."

"Might have a code," Sam volunteered like the unabashed optimist he was.

"Or he might be more valuable alive," Barnes stated the obvious. "A professional wouldn't have played it like that unless it was intentional. Like it was part of the plan."

Sam made another dissatisfied grumble, but Barnes kept on going, "It's the truth. Or someone could have a no-kill order on the occupant. Might be our guy's planning on a long-con to squeeze out intel in some other way. But if the occupant isn't seeing fit to report it either…" Barnes trailed off.

"Could just not trust the cops."

"Or maybe he believes they're somehow involved too," Shuri noted.

Sam let out a heavy sigh, "Wouldn't be the first time we found ourselves between a game of cat and mouse." He turned to her, "Your contacts have any idea who the homeowner was?"

Shuri flicked a finger, prompting a string of information to transfer to their devices, "I've shared what we know about the landlord, but at a glance, he doesn't appear to be of particular interest. What is curious is that the current tenant is not listed on any public documents. That alone is not a reason for alarm, certainly. There are many who rent month-to-month, and it might even explain their disinterest in involving the local authorities if they are perhaps residing without a visa, but we are trying to find out more without raising suspicion ourselves. There are many who would prefer to blindly point fingers at the cause of such disruptions, and it would be unwise to inadvertently implicate Wakanda for our curiosities."

"Understood," Sam agreed, "You okay with me passing word along to Rhodey, or should we keep this one between us for now?"

Sam's question was for Shuri, but as Barnes returned her Kimoyo Bead, Barnes felt compelled to step in ahead of her reply, "If our guy's a professional, he might be laying a perimeter too. Planting bugs. Surveillance." He paused a moment before adding, "And he might not be working alone." He turned his eyes to Shuri, hoping she could grasp that he wasn't being an alarmist by adding, "Your people need to be careful trying to track someone like that. Your folks aren't the only ones with access to advanced tech, and it could mean they're the ones being watched."

Barnes was certain Shuri caught his drift, and she frowned but nodded at his suggestion, turning back to Sam, "It may be apt to update Rhodes with this information, but to impress upon him that he take no action unless it is reported through another venue. If not: It would call into question the source of where his information originated."

Sam let out a frustrated breath of air, but he nodded, "Agreed. Consider it done."

Both of them turned their attention to Shuri as she motioned for Barnes to lower his arm before she repositioned herself on his right side and inspected the oozing slice across his skin just below his bicep. The cut wasn't deep or worrying, and he got the impression Shuri was tending to it in order to buy time to continue their conversation.

Sam's next words were for Barnes, "...You'd tell us if you knew anything else, right? Anything useful?"

He knew Sam's comment wasn't meant to draw offense, but he found his own tone twisting in frustration, "You're not getting it. There is more, I'm sure of it. I just don't have any way of knowing if what HYDRA did back then has anything to do with whatever's going on now or not. But I know they buried the keys." Barnes reminded himself for not the first time that the people around him were trying to help, that they weren't the source of his frustrations, but it sometimes hard to get across that it wasn't that he wasn't unwilling to help, it was that his own mind was working against him. "I know they're there, just out of reach. I wasn't supposed to remember even this much. Or the lab."

"The lab?" This was Shuri.

Suffocating tension slipped back around him at the memory, and he lifted his eyes to hers, hoping she wasn't going to prompt him for details unless absolutely necessary. If it mattered, he'd talk, but he wasn't interested in rehashing his painful past simply out of casual interest or well-meaning curiosity.

She must've sensed his discontent, because she quickly added, "We were not aware there was ever such a facility there. Or a lab. Our friend did not mention it, but I find it increasingly likely that he was made to forget it, as you once were."

"Why now then?" Sam asked to anyone who would hear him.

"I do not know," Shuri admitted, "It could be many things. That new connections have formed, circumventing damaged tissues, or that the degrading stability of connections is offering a brief, but unexpected boon by also tearing away the weight of unseen tethers." Her soulful brown eyes looked across to Barnes, "But I will ensure, as ever, that our scientists are aware. We have no secrets from you, and while we of course wish to offer aid in international matters as we can, we would never ask for it to come at a cost to you."

There was a lot that was up in the air, but as she returned her attention to closing the slice across his arm, he found he believed her.

The part he didn't speak out loud was that he wondered if given the opportunity, would he have been willing to trade over some part of himself to set things right in the past? Or to stop the devolving situation in Symkaria from getting worse?

He wasn't sure, but he wanted to believe he was that kind of person, and not the kind prowling across the rooftops killing off entire families for the sport of it or because someone'd asked him to.

But Barnes was quick to remind himself that once, not long ago, he'd been tasked to take down other people too.

And at the time, he'd mistakenly thought he was doing the right thing. Making a difference. Making the world a better place, even as he questioned the blood on his hands, and watched the last fragile signs of life fade from dozens of different faces.

He knew better now. He wanted to think he did, at least.

But he wanted to know what this other guy's end-game was, and if there was a way he could help stop him before he snuffed out more lives and left them where they lay.

Barnes couldn't help but wonder: Why was he leaving the bodies behind, but not laying a finger on the occupants of those flats?

---

So Sam hadn't been planning to have an impromptu check-in about Symkaria, especially given the rocky circumstances surrounding 'em, but that had been… something interesting alright. First off, he was surprised that Shuri not only hadn't shot the conversation down before it could even lift off, but that apparently her people were quietly lookin' for clues around the edges too, and were willing to share what they knew with not only him, but Barnes.

For a moment there, Sam'd also started to feel himself gradually slip into a comfortable pseudo-familiarity with the Winter Toaster, just like how he used to try and bounce board and piece together cases with Buck. He'd halted the inclination as soon as he caught onto it, silently reminding himself that Barnes was drawing from a very different well of life experiences. At the same time though: how different were they? If they were trying to catch-up to the beats of a professional assassin, it might even track that Barnes would have fresher experiences to draw from. Might even be more open about 'em too on accounts of however his brain was wired and that stupid clock they were up against.

…Not that Sam wanted to think too terribly much about that either.

What a mess.

At least by the sounds of it, Barnes wasn't proud of what he'd done during his tenure with Hydra, and this here was probably his roundabout way of trying to make some sort of amends in the time he had left. And the reminder of that just made Sam's chest ache in an entirely different way.

He didn't want to lose Barnes too.

Sam did what he could to pull himself away from the dark precipice his thoughts were beginning to spiral towards and back to marginally safer waters, but no less awful thoughts. Like what Pandora's Box of awful lived experiences did Barnes remember that Buck might not have?

Whatever it was, Sam was smart enough by now to know it was loads worse than whatever horrors Sam could ever imagine, or what Buck had ever let on.

Just the nails alone… Christ.

As if sensing the thick tension hanging in the air, and with it, the desire for all involved to pivot present topics, Barnes casually turned his head to meet Sam's world-weary expression, "So… are you planning on standing around to watch the next round too?"

Sam's eyes fluttered in surprise, "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. General Okoye said you could join us."

Sam watched Shuri stifle a smile as he worked his own jaw around a suitable reply, "What? You wanna make a play for the shield now too?"

Barnes made a sour face, genuinely offended, "No. I was assuming if you stepped in for one or more of the exercises, it would be because you wanted to fight with me, not against me."

There was something in the tone in that last bit there that Sam immediately caught a whiff of. Nomble must'a caught it too, because her normally strictly neutral expression bled through to quiet concern. But it wasn't as if Sam was oblivious or goin' to let any'a that go unchecked, "Hey now! Don't start up on that shit. When I said we're cool, I meant it. That doesn't mean I have a drop of interest takin' pot shots at you, but that also doesn't mean I'm chompin' at the bit to get my own ass whooped right alongside you."

And Barnes, whether he realized he was doing it or not, morphed his face into a legitimate geriatric pout.

It might not have been the same calculated expressions as the ones A.J. and Cass excelled at, but it was just as weaponized. Hell, was he really considering this? It was one thing to feel guilty watching Barnes take a beating all on his own, but that didn't mean he had to step in. It was obvious things were progressing just fine without him gettin' involved.

But even as he debated, there was a louder part of him that saw fit to remind him that while all this here was to test Barnes, it went beyond that too. This was their way of tradin' trust with him, and seein' just how far it stretched.

But Sam had his own bucket of chum. Questions, misgivings, concerns, the whole lot. Some of which certainly couldn't be answered in close-combat or even after a few beers. Yet all the same, he knew that some part of his nerves could probably use the acclimation, much as Barnes himself could use the show of trust right about now.

Especially if there was a chance, a mere chance that they might be heading off this mountain to a more populated area in Wakanda or anywhere else, up to and including Symkaria if Barnes had his way and T'Challa and Okoye gave their blessings. Sam still doubted it was in the cards, but by the fact Shuri hadn't shot his inquiries dead in the water, Sam knew there was still a chance.

Still, he found his own smart mouth noting, "So you're guiltin' me, and not Shuri, I see?"

Barnes glanced in her direction, momentarily confused, "I'm sure if Princess Shuri wants to join us, she's fully capable of doing so, but I was assuming she's occupied monitoring the data streams rather than deflecting."

Shuri lifted her head towards Nomble, "I see what you meant by his aptitude at channeling Yama's… how did you put it? 'Calculated sass.'"

Nomble snorted, but she remained silent and steadfast in her vigil.

Sam waggled his nearest fingers in Shuri's direction, "Not helping. Anyway! I'll have you know I was actually considering it all on my own." He rapidly blinked and turned his attention back to Shuri, realizing maybe he was getting ahead of himself, "Assuming you think it's advisable."

"I suspect such an offer would be met with great interest from General Okoye," Shuri assured him, brightening, "but I would insist you allow your suit to provide coverage and protection for your skin."

"Don't you worry. I was definitely not planning on going up against anyone wearing just blue jeans and a t-shirt."

"A pity," Shuri countered wistfully, "I was hoping we might mourn the loss of further remarkably plain garments."

Barnes blinked, "Wait. So you'll do it?"

"Now who's the one strugglin' to keep up?" Sam puttered back, snagging his nearby suitcase in one hand and promptly making tracks to the nearest docked ship for a little privacy to get suited up before he changed his mind.

Sam tried his best to push down the nervousness nipping at his heels as his momentary departure caught the attention of T'Challa, Okoye, and the others, who turned to see what he was up to. He offered them a quick wave and a, "I'll be right back," while he got his stride sorted out to the tune of promptly second-guessing himself if this was, in fact, a terrible idea.

Couldn't be any worse than that hoop-la in the Design Center, right?

Right?

…Yeah.

…Prolly best not to overthink this.

Once he was inside the glorified vibranium changing room, Sam shucked off his top layers and slid on the suit in record time. But every beat of the way, he couldn't help but think how, well… how strange all this was in an entirely different way.

See, Sam'd run laps with Steve and had time training with the Avengers and what he joked was their "B-Team" after Sokovia. In the years that followed, even after the Accords, he'd also sparred with Nat, Steve, and even Wanda. Carefully, yes, but they'd done what they could to team-up and keep in shape and on their toes while they were laying low with the whole self-imposed political exile thing.

Some fun years, those.

But he and Buck never had any of that. Not really. He wasn't a part of any'a those team building exercises or trust falls. Yeah, they'd sat in front of one another in that blue Beetle, and been on the same side in that airport brawl as well as when they were fighting against Thanos, but there wasn't any connection between 'em.

They were just two guys who happened to be in the same orbit, shooting in the same direction for once.

And that's pretty much exactly where they'd picked up from where they'd left off, too. It showed in spades, up to and including those early interactions they'd had in their run-ins with the Flag Smashers. Where they'd promptly made fools out of themselves.

It was like having four left feet and not a drop of rhythm between 'em.

They'd gotten better, sure, but what training they did was still mostly limited to tandems with a side of careful sparring, which just wasn't the same thing. But it wasn't like either of 'em could go all-out or had Walker on speed-dial for if they wanted some tag-team cardio. Buck certainly had no interest or opportunity to let loose against someone who could take a legitimate super-powered punch or two.

So this here… this was a very particular feeling, knowing the ass-whooping he was signing up for, coupled with the fact that on accounts of their advanced healing tech, he was in good company and skilled hands to do maybe his first legitimate group training exercise since before he'd ever even heard of the Mad Purple Titan.

But Sam's helpful conscience was quick to slot him right back in the present and remind him that in the here and now, Sam'd agreed to try to fight alongside Barnes. Yet Barnes maintained he had exactly zero memories fighting alongside Sam. In fact, the closest thing he 'prolly had was when they exchanged live fire with lethal intent over the Potomac on that helicarrier back in 2014.

Yeah, this was gonna be a very particular type of trust exercise.

But he wasn't about to back down, even if his nerves were shoutin' back well-meaning warnings.

Sam took a grounding breath before slipping on his goggles, adjusting his wristguards, and doing final-checks that everything was in order. With resolute intention, he disembarked from the ship clad in that red, white, blue, and glistening vibranium silver, watching as the heads of folks peppered across the clearing rise in his direction. Every last one of them immediately pieced together just what he'd planned to do.

Of the lot of faces that greeted him, Shuri's smile was the most pronounced. Half of it was 'prolly due to the fact she'd designed the damn thing and was excited, maybe even borderline delighted to get a chance to finally see it in action up close. The attention of the Dora Milaje were no less intrigued, but Sam didn't find a drop of heat in any of their features. They all shared that calculated neutral expression of theirs, well except for Yama, whose thumb was back to facing the right direction, and who let a hint of her smile shine through when she thought her superiors weren't looking.

Yeah. Maybe it wasn't a terrible idea to get a little extra practice in against folks that were not only up for the challenge, but were genuinely eager for it. And this here? This was a rare opportunity, up to and including the fact that in the wake of their exercises, if he got injured, he'd be able to get back to square one again in no-time-flat.

Well, assuming he didn't get hurt worse'n last time. It was possible, what with the weapons out on the field and all, but it was hardly more intimidating the better half of the live missions he'd run with higher stakes, live ammo, and hostiles shooting to kill.

Shuri's renewed interest was shared by the other faces on the field, including her brother a few steps away. T'Challa looked up from what Sam was assuming was the latest barrage of high-priority correspondences at his wrist and toggled them off as he met Sam's eyes and warmly smiled.

While Sam'd been changing, Shuri must've wrapped up her work on that slice on Barnes's shoulder, because he'd already retreated back to his unofficial starting block. Sam tossed the man what he hoped was a cocky grin as he strode over to their makeshift camp and picked up his shield from where it's been laying against his favorite sittin' log.

"The shield and suit look good on you," T'Challa remarked, "My sister was correct in saying that they would match, and look even more impressive in person."

"He worried the colors might be too bold or outspoken," Shuri was quick to add, "but that is why those of us with refined taste and deep roots in fashion took responsibility for its design."

Sam just smiled back, "Well you did a damn fine job. Still surprised how you managed to get the fit just right."

Shuri simply grinned and offered one of her easy shrugs as she turned her attention over to Okoye, standing a short distance away.

The General kept her gaze level on Sam, "So you've decided to join us?"

The confidence in her voice was hard to miss, "I've had my ass whooped my fair share, so it won't be the first time by a long shot. But at least this go 'round we can do it nice and proper. Assuming that's okay, of course."

"Your participation would be a boon to our exercises," Okoye pleasantly agreed, "but it would be apt to know that we do not intend to hold back."

Sam whistled in a breath between his front teeth and felt the weight of the shield in his grip, "Yeah, I wasn't thinkin' you were intending to take it easy on me. Just… If you could… try to take it easy on the hands. And face."

"I worked very hard on the face," Shuri chimed in, earning her an amused snort from Okoye, who clearly remembered just how far it'd come from the bloodied crater it once was.

"Since these aren't the sort of training exercises I grew up with, you'd be doin' me a service if you could explain what I'm expected to do before we get rollin' though."

"Of course," Okoye lifted her chin thoughtfully, eyeing first Barnes, and then the Dora Milaje assembled around her, "It would be good practice for you both to work as a unit, I think. Do you grasp the premise of the Guard's Dance?"

"The basics, yeah. That's the one where y'all have been taking turns while Barnes guards someone, right?"

Okoye inclined her head, "And which role would you choose to start with alongside Barnes?"

Sam scrunched his nose at that, "Wait, what other role would you have us in for? The offensive?"

"Oh this is going to be good," Shuri remarked to her brother just loud enough for everyone to overhear.

"Or paired Guarded or Quarry. It matters not. All positions offer valuable lessons and insight."

Sam was trying to follow how any'a that would work in practice, but he had no doubt Okoye had a leg up on his experiences, "I… I was about to say neither of us have anything like your spears, but I'm guessing that won't be a problem."

"It will not," she confirmed.

"Okay then…" Sam looked towards Barnes, hoping for a spot of opinion. Instead he just looked back, as if he was still genuinely surprised Sam'd opted to join him, and the gears turning in his head were still trying to play catch-up. By the looks of it, Barnes was content to go along with whatever Sam suggested. "I guess we can start on the offensive? Give us time to get our bearings."

"And what would you wish to choose our roles?"

"So they're fair?" He wasn't following.

The corner of Okoye's lips upturned in an amused smile, "Oh, it will not be fair, but we may feign making it more so in your eyes for the purpose of this exercise."

Sam knew smack-talk when he heard it, "Well, we could do two against two then. Two Guards?"

That bold smile pasted across Okoye's face wasn't going anywhere, "And who would you choose to face first, Captain Sam Wilson?"

Okoye could be intimidating as all-Hell, but she certainly knew how to leverage it, and every ounce of her confidence was well-earned. That being as it was, he caught her drift and the trick question nestled alongside it. Just like a game of competitive dodgeball, if he was bein' permitted to choose the opposing team, he knew it'd be wise to be lookin' to pick the weakest members to give his own crew a fightin' chance.

But this wasn't grade school, and all that Sam knew was that he was hoping for someone other than Okoye to help break 'em in.

Hopefully, not literally.

"How 'bout Ayo and Yama up front to start things rolling, and maybe you as the Quarry?"

And Okoye just grinned and tapped her spear. In one smooth motion she retracted her weapon and placed it at her hip, "Then shall I revel in being your Quarry."

Sam was thinkin' that putting Okoye back in the rear there was fair placement, and a hair better than requesting she sidestep the exercise entirely and watch from the sidelines. It wasn't like Captain America was a coward. He just… needed to get his bearings. Yeah. Bearings.

But Sam also didn't miss the way Barnes scrunched his face in the wake of Sam's latest selection, "What? What is it?"

"You put General Okoye as the Quarry?"

Sam wasn't following, "Yeah, and?" He cocked his head, suddenly worried, "...Was that an insult or something to place her in the back?"

Barnes's expression soured as he put a hand to his temple in disbelief, "No, it just means you put the odds even more in their favor without even realizing it, isidenge*."

"You know, I've heard that word often enough I can guess at what it means by now."

"It means idiot."

"Thanks. Really," Sam deadpanned right back to the ungrateful cyborg, "You wanna keep talkin', or we gonna hurry along to the point where we get our collective asses handed to us?"

"You're the one dragging your feet."

Sam shot the man beside him what he hoped was a palpable look of disbelief, but Barnes remained utterly unphased, "Would it hurt you to be a little more appreciative?"

And Barnes just… dramatically rolled his sky blue eyes.

The exchange was so easy and second-nature, that for a moment there, Sam'd almost forgotten he wasn't sniping retorts with Buck. But the melancholy undercurrent of his thoughts must've broken through in his expression, because Barnes's face briefly faltered too.

Whatever words the man with his partner's face had, he kept to himself, opting instead to ask, "You good?"

And Sam wasn't, not by a long shot, but he managed, "Good enough, yeah."

Barnes nodded back with a heaping more empathy in those eyes than Sam might've otherwise given him credit for.

Nomble remained at her vigil alongside the pair of royal siblings while the participating Dora arranged themselves in a triangle about ten feet in front of him and Barnes. Okoye stood in the back observing everyone with empty palms while Ayo and Yama took up position in front of her in a guard's upright stance. Statue-like as they were, by the twinkle in Yama's eye, Sam got a feeling that she was counting down the seconds until he got schooled, or she was able to divest him of his shield.

Maybe both.

And Ayo? She was alert, but by the looks of it, Sam thought she was going to enjoy every minute of it.

"So our goal here is just to make contact with Okoye, right?"

"General Okoye," Barnes had the nerve to correct him.

Sam waggled his fingers at the man posed just to his left, trying to ignore that part of his brain that was swiftly reminding him he'd agreed to combat maneuvers with someone who was, by some accounts, only months fresh from kicking his own ass off a helicarrier and escaping HYDRA.

But let bygones be bygones, right?

Least there was no live ammunition involved.

Or knives.

One thing at a time.

"Yes, that is your aim," General Okoye agreed. "Any contact made with your person or belongings counts as a success, but the targets on your Quarry should be limited to the limbs or torso. In more advanced exercises, the goal is to claim the Quarry rather than to simply make contact with it, but we will start with easy exercises meant for initiates." She waved a graceful hand towards Ayo and Yama in front of her, "If you find the terms of this arrangement weighted against your favor, I'm sure my Guards would be happy to show you what they are capable of without their spears."

"Stop making us look bad," Barnes had the actual audacity to grumble under his breath.

"I wasn't gonna suggest they face us unarmed," Sam muttered right back, "I'm just makin' sure I understand what we're trying to do here."

"You would know if you were paying attention."

This guy. "Fine fine," Sam turned his attention back to Okoye, "So no wings I take it, but what about the shield?"

"You are welcome to use your wings and whatever tools you have at your disposal aside from your drones," Okoye observed in that cool, collected tone of hers, "But if you let your belongings slip from your grasp, you may have the opportunity to witness our not insubstantial shield training."

Sam didn't miss that Yama waggled her eyebrows in mock intimidation at Okoye's remark.

He offered her a half-smile and shook his head in disbelief that he was agreeing to any of this, "Okay… but if we're being honest? I didn't exactly wake up this morning planning to use it against any'a ya. Just takin' me a hot second here to acclimate to the objectives here."

The warmth in Okoye's smile was genuine, "Then perhaps see it not as a test to pass or fail, but an opportunity to train and test one's mettle against skilled opponents." She extended a hand instructively, "This controlled environment and shared spirit extends the prospect of furthering not only one's personal prowess, but deepening coordination between individuals."

And see, Okoye wasn't just talkin' about her people. But by the cock of her head she tossed towards Barnes, Sam realized she was talkin' about the two of them too, just maybe not in the way Sam'd originally unfolded things. He'd been viewing these as singular exercises meant to test Barnes and those latent instincts of his, but Sam hadn't necessarily stopped to consider that it could be helping them as well. That this here was an opportunity to try and sync with a new dance partner, even though Sam was still coming to terms with the fact that he was still privately grieving the one that shared his shadow.

But that expression Okoye was sending his way, even the ones of Ayo and Yama in front of her: They understood. And playful posturing aside, he could tell their attentive focus was meant to offer reassurance, same as the steady gazes hovering out from Shuri, T'Challa, and Nomble nearby. They might not have been sayin' it out loud, but Sam saw it in their eyes too. That they had his back, and they wouldn't have been encouraging it if they thought it was ill advised, or that either of 'em couldn't handle it.

But this next part was up to him. To try to put that fragile bud of trust he's built with Barnes into practice with more than just words or sharin' space next to him when there wasn't a barrier between them.

Which was probably why Sam wasn't entirely prepared when Barnes followed-up with a quiet and half-confessional, "I don't remember doing this with you. Fighting on the same side, I mean. How do you think we should…? Did we…? With your friend…?"

Sam snorted, feeling the same ripples of mixed apprehension Barnes shared just beside him. It was humanizing in a very particular way, "Well, I've never exactly gone up against a group of Dora playin' at this particular exercise, so I think we're even there." He tilted his bearded chin in their direction, "I remember you callin' some shots out on the highway. How 'bout you take point on this round?"

Barnes set his jaw and offered Sam a quick affirmative nod as he returned to that hunched over position of his and asked simply, "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," Sam admitted. When he swung his head back towards the Doras directly in front of him, he was not the least bit surprised to see Ayo and Yama already poised with their spears levied in their direction. Okoye situated herself protectively behind them with not a drop of worry across her face as Sam added thoughtfully to Barnes, "Just don't be an asshole and shout commands in Russian."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Barnes whipped back, issuing a silent countdown with his fingers.

And with that, the ex-Winter Soldier charged forward forward, with one Captain America falling into step just behind him.

---

So those first few steps might'a looked valiant if someone had thought to play'em back in slow motion with an inspiring music accompaniment – Sam assumed Shuri was 'prolly recording it, whether or not he was keen on that footage existing was another matter – but as soon as Barnes connected with Ayo, it became increasingly apparent that he and the man beside him were reading from two entirely different playbooks.

Now to Barnes's credit, it wasn't as though he was swinging wildly or putting Sam in any explicit danger of his own making. He even managed a few smooth blocks now and again, but it was clear each of them were focused on one-on-ones with their respective Doras rather than working in unison or anything that approximated a natural flow.

The opposite could be said for Ayo and Yama, though. They had that whole code language of theirs to help'em along, sure, but it was actually Okoye herself who spoke up after their first call and response. "Barnes and Sam have no shared private tongue, so if you must speak, be it in words they can understand. I do not want to later hear complaints that we are permitted perceived advantages against one in a highly advanced combat suit and another with an enhanced metabolism and augmented biomechanical apparatuses."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Sam managed between swings and the latest hit to his shin.

In response, Okoye bowed her head gracefully and crossed her arms, calmly watching the fight play out a few feet in front of her. Sam found he didn't have to let his mind wander very far to imagine her cooly tossin' out somethin' to the tune of ''Lookin' strong, John,' right back at 'em just for the Hell of it. Sam was guessin' word of that particular exchange had made its way to her at some point.

Barnes didn't say anything, but the moment he thought he saw an opening to get between the two guards, he surged forward. Doin' his best to support the tactical maneuver, Sam held the shield tight in one hand and thrust it out in front of him in an offensive horizontal swipe. It should've connected with at least one of 'em, but he only caught air. Sam wasn't sure how it was possible, but Yama not only managed to dodge the hit, but she slid forward and seamlessly tucked herself down so Ayo could launch herself up and over her, outright denying Barnes's advance and swiftly kicking him back...

…into Sam.

The impact took the wind out of both of them, and by the time they shook themselves off and got back to their feet, Ayo and Yama had already reset.

And Okoye? Okoye hadn't moved an inch. She just stood observing them with a look of utter amusement, and not the least bit of passing concern.

…Was she… inspecting the manicure on her nails…?

…She wasn't…

No…couldn't be. Wait… Yeah, she absolutely was.

They were back at it moments later. Barnes went from a different approach of trying to gain some control over Ayo's spear, but Sam was so busy watching out for the sharp end that he wasn't entirely watching for Yama's aggressive counter. She swept the shoe of her spear at knee-level, forcing Sam to backpedal to avoid the hit. Instinctually, he toggled his boosters to give him a little kick to his airtime that she wasn't counting on. He wanted to think it might've looked graceful as all Hell… were it not that his left elbow managed to connect with Barnes's shoulder as he pivoted back.

The blue eyes that shot his way at the unexpected contact weren't cold, cruel, or murderous, but Barnes quickly barked out a half-offended, "Watch it."

It wasn't a warning or a threat, Sam could diagnose that much, but it had an odd way of reminding Sam not of the Soldier, but when back when he and Buck'd first started working together.

Or whatever that phase could be best classified as. Growin' pains was one word for it.

"I'm 'tryin'," Sam grumbled. Everything about them was out of sync. About the only thing that was workin' here was that Barnes was doin' a hell of a lot better trying to break through Ayo's guard that he was doing with Yama, who seemed to be all-but enjoying herself. Sam had no doubts she'd have been tossing quips back his way if it wasn't for their royal audience and Okoye steps behind her. But the spunky Dora didn't hold back as she landed another expert counter and sent him a legitimate teasing wink in its wake without missing a beat.

Well alrighty then. That's how they were gonna play this?

Sam knew he wasn't performing to his strengths, but it also wasn't like it was appropriate for him to, what? Pop out the wings and try an airborne approach against fully grounded opponents? It didn't seem right. He could toss the shield, ricochet it off one of those trees lining the clearing, but his gut was telling him Okoye'd be able to dodge it without batting an eyelash.

Altogether, Sam wished he had a host of more cohesive engagement strategies with the guy to his left, but he reminded himself that they had to start somewhere. That it was unrealistic to be paired up with someone and immediately sync up like those pilots in the Pacific Rim movies. No, he and Barnes were both a work in progress. Rusty on a lot, but individually, neither of them were strangers to team play, even if Barnes's bucket of experiences were mostly comprised of people shouting "Hail Hydra!"

Sam did his best to forcibly ignore the particulars and focus on the fact that even though it was hard to stomach the details, Barnes had indeed had some experience with teamplay. That meant it was on Sam to switch up his approach, and he did so, doubling-down on the idea of trying to strengthen and support Barnes's approach rather than fighting it or continue to go at Yama solo.

It wasn't suddenly smooth sailin', that was for sure, but Okoye started having to pay attention and move on her feet a little, and that was progress in its own right. As Barnes went in for a flank, Sam worked to try to peel Yama back and away, even going so far as to insert himself in between them in the hopes of cuttin' em off. He and Barnes made it marginally further before those vibranium shafts of theirs swiftly beat 'em back into position for another reset.

Sam wanted to think they weren't toying with them, but he couldn't be sure. He wouldn't'a put it past them.

He was already breathing hard and heard the auto-fog notification kick on over his goggles when Barnes saw fit to snark a remark his way on the tail-end of a denied advance, "Is there a reason you aren't using the wings? I assume that pack has wings like your last one?"

Sam managed to narrowly dodge a speartip and block a well-placed kick with his shield as he shot back, "What?"

"Your pack. You're fighting like someone clipped your wings."

"I'll have you know–" Sam darted left, using the shield as a barrier between a Dora Milaje-style combo and Barnes's nearest leg, "–That I'm perfectly capable of usin' the wings, just didn't feel right given the circumstances. "

"If you haven't noticed, we're already at a disadvantage," Barnes argued, landing a kick that left him open for the retaliation that followed, "we don't need a handicap to go along with it. I'm not going to break these wings too, if that's what you're worried about."

"What–?" Sam sputtered, momentarily losing his focus long enough that he nearly fumbled his grip on the shield when Yama tried to use the tip of her spear and her foot to pry it away from him. She came close, but no cigar, "That's not what I was getting at at all."

And Ayo whirled, strengthening her guard to protect Okoye, but Sam didn't miss that their latest exchange had drawn her attention. As she struggled to knock aside Sam's shield, he could see the confusion clear on her sweat-addled face, prompting her to address him for the first time since they'd started sparring, if you could call it that, "Your old wings?"

"Old-Old," he clarified between a duck and a punch he managed to land on Yama's shoulder, but didn't progress past her, "Last set got pulled apart credit to Walker. Set before that was stripped a wing somewhere around 5,000 feet up, give or take." He didn't think he needed to be more specific, or to levy any additional attempted-murdery accusations against Barnes because that there was in the past.

Right?

But instead Ayo had to ask the obvious between three unnervingly precise pivots of her blade, "And have you made peace with those old tresspasses and others like it? Or does the impact of them haunt you still?"

Her unfettered words hung out in the open sprawl, placed between heartbeats, the scramble of footbeats, and the clang of vibranium colliding vibranium, but… it didn't make 'em any less valid. Sam struggled to think on his feet, because yeah, he'd forgiven Buck for all that before. Carefully inspected it. Stripped it away into neat little box of horrors and dark past that he presumed was credit exclusively to a mind-controlled a murder-bot.

But this here with Barnes, it was different. He knew that. Not just on account of his limited gamut of expressions and social graces. His mismatched jumble of memories, or the fact he'd legitimately taken Sam as a hostage two days ago, but because he'd also made no excuses for those actions. He'd taken ownership of 'em. And in his own way? Apologized for 'em. Up to and including the part where he'd hurled Sam's ass off the side of a helicarrier without any concern for if he died or not.

That guy.

So yeah, Sam's pacing and focus were prolly not nearly up-to-snuff in the present moment because now he was seeing what Ayo was carvin' away at. And if literally anyone else had thought to bring any 'a this raw mess up, he prolly would'a shucked it off. But her? She understood where he was comin' from, and she was wisened enough to know that while it was easier to stay buried, uncomfortable shit remain unsaid, it prolly wasn't helpin' either of 'em.

And Barnes wasn't near oblivious enough to not notice.

Sam half-expected him to volley a smart remark his way, but instead the other man took a step back, disengaging from Ayo, who didn't pursue him. Yama did the same, swiftly choosing to point her spear skyward to match Ayo beside her, as if signaling a momentary truce so the two men could exchange words if they saw fit.

Okoye said nothing, but she did not reprimand Ayo for her choice to speak.

But Sam was breathin' hard and comin' up blank on anything he needed to say beyond the obvious that no, he wanted to push some of those personal, excruciatingly painful moments aside, but it wasn't like he could just up and forget what'd happened. Just shrug it off like someone accidentally stepped on his toe.

The stuff from ten years ago was easier to reason through, but the recent stuff? Not so much.

Yeah, Barnes'd defended him towards the end of that high-speed getaway from Hell, but that wasn't at all how things'd started out. He knew that much. All of 'em did. Every last person here had seen how bad it'd gotten for a number of people, and him in particular.

Sam told himself, insisted through and through that it wasn't a mystery that needed solved right now. It was just an accident he had to move forward from. A misunderstanding of the worst possible kind, but that things were okay now, right? That was good enough.

Wasn't it?

But that being as it was, there were some blank spots Sam'd never thought to dig into, mostly, because there hadn't been any need. What was done was done. Bygones be bygones, and all'a that.

But.

But…

Sam worked to catch his breath as he eyed Barnes quizzically, "Okay… yeah I… suppose I still have questions."

"Like?" Barnes's exhaustion-riddled tone wasn't off putting or innately defensive, but it was clear he wasn't sure where all'a this was heading.

If Sam had to be honest with himself? He wasn't sure either.

"Back in the lab… why'd you take me?"

Barnes blinked once and straightened, cocking his head as that cyborg brain of his worked to process the question in real time. Sam didn't get the impression he was being intentionally dodgy, so much as trying to genuinely trace his way back through the fog and produce as honest of an answer as he was capable of, "Well I… You were the only person there I recognized."

Sam shifted his weight from one foot to the other, aware of the weight of the shield in his hand, "So you grabbed me 'cause you thought you recognized me ?"

Barnes grimaced, "Yeah, I guess? Look, it's not like I had much time to think. I jolted awake up in a strange lab with a cryogenic tube, and I put two-and-two together. It wasn't a stretch to conclude that all of you must've been aligned with HYDRA. I didn't have any reason to believe otherwise, even though I know better now."

"But you told me later you remembered stalkin' Steve and I in D.C.–"

"–It wasn't stalking.–"

"–You know what I mean." Sam waved a dismissive hand in his direction, "But you said you remembered some'a D.C. You knew I was friends with Steve. So why did you do what you did to me? You nearly killed me, man."

Sam heard his voice break a little at the end there, and while it hadn't been his intention to put that raw reality out in the open, he didn't backpedal it either. He didn't let himself hide the hurt and confusion he felt at what had happened, even if he was tryin' his best not to hold it against Barnes now.

And Barnes? He winced as if he'd been hit, but he didn't look away. He just stood there, takin' the sight of Sam in as he staggered his breathing and twisted his hands together like he was trying to ground himself. No. On second glance, Sam thought maybe Barnes might've been thinkin' back to how he'd used those same hands in violence against Sam, "I… I wasn't thinking clearly. It was a lot at once. At first, I thought you'd betrayed Steve. Helped take him captive somehow."

Sam was sure he made a wildly disbelieving face at that, "That I'd betrayed him?"

Barnes chewed his lip, "Yeah. That you were a HYDRA agent too. All along. That I must've missed the signs."

Okay so that… that wasn't entirely news to Sam, but it was the first time he could recall it being laid bare out in the open like that. "But, you stopped believin' that as a foregone conclusion at some point too."

"Yeah."

"What then?"

"What do you mean, 'what then?'"

Sam faced the rising discomfort of the confrontation as he pressed for clarity, "What'd you believe was goin' on, back when you were still scrambled, but you opted not to let me just bleed out when I was havin' trouble breathin'?" Sam was aware there were other people nearby silently observing the two of them, but he could hardly care: All he saw was Barnes standing motionless in front of him.

He had to understand.

"I… I wasn't sure," Barnes weakly admitted, licking his lips, "But… eventually I thought maybe you were with HYDRA in a different way."

"In a different way?"

Barnes nodded once, a tight affirmative that looked almost artificially rigid. Like he was afraid of moving a muscle. He stayed like that, like a human statue as he kept his sullen eyes focused on Sam, "Like I was. That maybe they'd gotten to you. Turned your brain into scrambled eggs too. Wiped you and made you forget who you were. I didn't know if Steve was in that facility – you insisted he was dead, that it was somehow years later, 2024, but he'd died in 2023 – and to my best guess? You believed you were telling the truth. But that didn't make it true." His voice grew quieter yet, "It could've been you were made to believe it too. Like I had, once."

Sam was sure he'd forgotten to breathe at some point, because as he stared wide-eyed at Barnes a few steps away, he found words failed him entirely. He'd deciphered early portions of their escape as nothing more than a brutal hostage play from a confused man that he first took for the Soldier and not a lick else. But now the same man was tellin' Sam that part of the reason for the pivot wasn't just pure self-preservation, guilt, or the negotiating power of a live hostage, but a raw desire to help Sam if he might'a been subjected to similar treatment under HYDRA.

Holy.

Shit.

"You…" Sam's mouth formed the words, but his mind hadn't thought far enough ahead to process whatever it was he wanted to follow-up with.

Here he was, trying to keep from getting emotional at any number of things, up to and including the not only the sullen reminder that Steve was no longer with them, but that somewhere along the way, apparently HYDRA had seen fit to weaponize Steve against him. They hadn't just physically brutalized him, they'd lied to him.

…Buck had never told him. Maybe he hadn't known. Hadn't remembered. Sam couldn't be sure, but there was something private and aching in Barnes's tight expression right then in a way that shook Sam to his core. Not in the way that made him want to press the other man for details, but in a way that humanized Barnes in one fell swoop. Fleshed him out in a way that was wholly new as it was raw and painful to behold.

And the thought that somewhere along their escape from Mount Bashenga, Barnes'd come to believe that here'd been a chance that Sam might'a been lied to and forced into servitude under HYDRA too? And rather than leave him behind, this man that Barnes hardly knew, and someone whose only lasting interactions up until that point had been brutal crossfire, Barnes had concluded that the right thing to do was to take Sam with him. Get him the Hell away from that imaginary base of HYDRA operations too.

That part of their twisted joy ride wasn't just about Barnes getting himself clear of the people pursuing him. No, he'd been tryin' to save Sam too. Just not in the way Sam'd understood at the time.

And then Barnes managed to say something so quiet and candid that it made Sam clench his jaw and squeeze his eyes shut, because he knew every syllable that fell from his lip was the solemn truth, "I didn't know if Steve was really dead, or if that's just what they'd led you to believe, but he would have gone after you. Tried to save you, like he did for me. And he wasn't there, but I was."

Sam rubbed his fingers across his face, trying to still his breathing and ignore the wetness forming in the corners of his eyes under the red glare of his goggles. He'd assumed a lot about Barnes, and a bulk of it was justified through and through, but this… This hadn't been on his radar at all. It filled in some blanks he hadn't even known he had, and it had a way of offering a belated salve for his valid frustrations on how things'd gone down between them early on, reframing them in a light that was poignant, but no less painful.

"Hell man. I don't even know how to respond to that," Sam admitted, casually aware of the audience standing around them listening to their confessional exchange, but not caring a drop edgewise. "I remember you repeatedly asking me if I was working for HYDRA, but it never even occurred to me that you could'a thought I wasn't necessarily acting of my own accord back there. Christ."

But Barnes wasn't lookin' for accolades or belated ass-pats. This wasn't a shining moment for him either, and he was well aware he'd made some tremendous mistakes along the way. So he just stood there out in that mountain top meadow. Quiet, bruised, vulnerable, and a little winded, searching Sam's eyes for some flicker of understanding. Some kernel to know if what he'd said made things any better between them, or if his words had inadvertently made 'em worse. "I didn't enjoy it. Hurting you, I mean. I did a lot more damage than I intended. But I'm glad you got help, and I was wrong, even if it means the rest of what you were saying is true too. That it's years later, my mind's not right, and he's gone."

Barnes said the words in that quiet, personal tone of his that wasn't lingering close to the edges of emotion like Sam's was, but there was candor in his words. The perspective and implications it carried along with 'em were all sorts of sobering, though.

Yet Sam found he couldn't see a drop of the Soldier he feared in those cloudy blue eyes.

Yeah. It had a way of making Sam's lingering questions and frustrations about how all'a that had played out just… evaporated. Like they up'n drifted away into the warm Wakandan morning and didn't look back, leaving him feeling a little bit lighter. Less tethered to the past.

The well-meaning idiot had hurt him, yeah, but under the surface of it all, a fair chunk had apparently been part of a twisted rescue attempt neither of them had ever signed up for.

A rescue attempt for someone who'd shot at him the last time they'd met in earnest.

If it wasn't that Barnes was bristly as a porcupine, it almost made Sam want to hug the man.

Sam wasn't sure how long it took for him to be able to work his mouth again, but he did his best, "Okay well. That's for clarifyin' all'a that. I… the thought honestly hadn't ever crossed my mind."

Barnes nodded once, just a simple up and down with his head that had a way of acknowledging Sam's words right alongside the palpable guilt he was still carrying for what he'd inadvertently subjected Sam to without fully realizing it. And by the way he was lookin' at Sam's gloved hands now? That gnawing feeling was only bubbling brighter, makin' him feel like whatever that Wakandan word was for 'idiot' was he'd said earlier.

Sam's eyes dropped to his own hands and he took a deep breath as he solidified his resolve with a breathless but firm, "Okay then."

Barnes tilted his head, unsure of what Sam was getting at as he slowly lowered the shield he'd apparently been death-gripping, and leaned it against the side of his leg so both of his hands were free. Then, with the ceremony of purpose, Sam used his left hand to remove the protective glove from his right hand, which he promptly extended out towards Barnes.

The man eyed it warily, clearly grasping what the gesture was, but not why it was suddenly directed at him, especially in the wake of what he'd just said.

"Don't have a clue about a proper follow-up to that," Sam admitted, doing his best to steady his haggard breath, "But what I'm tryin' my best to do is to acknowledge some of the past between us was indeed shit, and burstin' at the seams with misunderstandings and HYDRA fuckery. But knowing what I know now, I'm choosin' not to hold it against you, alright?"

"We're good?" Barnes weakly inquired as he warily regarding the hand between them like it was a trick question.

"We're good," Sam confirmed, "And hey? Thanks for trying to save my ass when you thought I might'a been brainwashed by Nazi assholes too."

Barnes met Sam's eyes again before dropping his attention back to the flesh and blood hand extended in his direction. The one with the marbled lines of missing hair that hinted at where the surface had been fused back together. The way Barnes warily regarded the appendage, it made Sam wonder if he could ever remember shaking another hand of his own free will, or if this might be a first.

For a second, Sam thought Barnes might pull back and sidestep the gesture, but slowly, carefully, he extended his bruised fingers and placed them securely around Sam's palm. His grip was tentative and trembled ever-so slightly, but when Sam briefly offered what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze, he was heartened to feel Barnes return the skin-to-skin contact at a strength that was firm but not at all super-powered.

And as they stood there, Sam did his best to stay planted in the moment, and unfettered by a past they couldn't change, or a future they couldn't know. He found he felt oddly more at peace than he had in days, even if part of him was swiftly reminded of a similar clash of hands he'd shared with Buck back in Delacroix after some rounds tossin' the shield back and forth between 'em and some helpless, heavily-padded cypress and hickory trees.

The memory ached deep in his chest, but he wanted to tell himself that this here wasn't just an echo of that. It was somethin' different, and pure in its own right. And whether he only got a few more days with Barnes, or if that had the miracle of turnin' into years and new shared experiences: Sam'd make those count. Not because of any words he'd exchanged with Steve, or even Buck, but because it was what he wanted now too.

He didn't try to declare 'em Partners. That bit would'a been out of sorts and premature, but whatever name it was they had between them, Sam was certain in that moment that Barnes felt it too.

As Sam let their hands fall away at what felt like a natural conclusion to the gesture, he risked lookin' up long enough to catch Ayo's expression and the unabashed warmth and understanding carried with it. He'd have to thank her later for coaxin' 'em out of their respective shells, an' more, but he got the impression that she was remarkably unconcerned about whatever protocols she might'a broken along the way.

Yeah, the Wakandans were good people. No doubt there.

Sam sucked in a breath of air between his teeth and shook off his shoulders once before leaning in conspiratorially towards Barnes without crowding him, "Now that we cleared that up, what'da'ya say about workin' together to formulate a game-plan so we can win us a round of Wakandan Battle Tag?"

And while Barnes didn't smile, he twisted his lips in something damn-near close enough to make Sam's heart beam with a flavor of renewed kinship, if a little pride, "I think I have some ideas for Team Underdog."

Team.

Sam could work with that.

He could more than work with that.

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[Barnes Sketches, by KLeCrone]

[ID: A photo showing a firepit in the background, and an iPad in the foreground, featuring a loose digital painting by KLeCrone. In it, Barnes sits peacefully. He is cross legged, seated amid an impressionistic field of grass. He is wearing brown boots, black pants, a blue t-shirt, and his vibranium arm. End ID]

[ID: A loose digital painting by KLeCrone. In it, Barnes sits peacefully. He is cross legged, seated amid an impressionistic field of grass. He is wearing brown boots, black pants, a blue t-shirt, and his vibranium arm. End ID]

There were any number of scenes in this chapter that I debated illustrating, but I worried a cropped banner of them might risk spoiling the flow and resulting WHUMP of this chapter, so I opted to hang tight for the meantime.

As a consolation prize, here is a quick sketch I did of Barnes (minus shawl) that I doodled while I was recently enjoying some time around a cozy fire of my own. ❤ It doesn't match with any scene from this chapter, but I was feeling that quiet comfort in the wake of writing his closing interactions with Sam, and the peace of them both feeling truly "seen" by one-another after so long.

The existing banner from this chapter is a cropped piece of a larger painting. You can see the full image, as well as learn more about the many Easter Eggs I nestled into it here on Ao3: "Winter of the White Wolf - Art Collection - Art for Chapter 69 - Artist: KLeCrone."

Please check out this chapter on Archive of Our Own to see the art and links to my social media pages!

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Author's Remarks:

* Isidenge - Wakandan Translation: Stupid, foolish or idiotic

- Symkaria Recap - I figured we could all benefit from a recap, as well as some curious new developments…

- Barnes's Gambit - It felt great finally circling back to what had happened when Barnes first woke up in the lab, and to have the opportunity to put an entirely new spin on why his actions progressed as they did. As ill-informed as they were, I love the idea that he didn't want to leave Sam behind in case HYDRA'd gotten to him too. ;_;

- Barnes and Sam - I can't tell you how immensely satisfying (and emotional) it was to finally get Barnes and Sam to this point. It's been a long time coming, but Sam needed to be willing to take some important steps to confront what'd happened between them, and to acknowledge it was still bothering him, and for Barnes to be willing to share more about what'd been going through his addled mind at the time. I'd like to think that handshake was all sorts of earned and cathartic for them both.

I'm sure everything is going to be smooth sailing from here on out, right? Just, toss on some matching jerseys and call it a day.

…Right…?

I hoped you enjoyed this emotional chapter. Thank you as always for your kudos, support, comments, and kind words! It helps keep me fueled to keep this project moving ever-forward.