In symphony with this update, I'm thrilled to share two pieces of art! The first is a gorgeous painting by Shade ("Shade_of_stars" on Twitter), and the second is a stunning portrait of Ayo by HardWiredWeird ("hardwiredweird" on Twitter).
Please check out this chapter on Archive of Our Own to see the art and links to everyone's social media!
Simply search for: "KLeCrone Ao3 Winter of the White Wolf"
Winter of the White Wolf
Chapter 83 - Light Echoes
Summary:
While Shuri, Yama, and Nomble are off exploring parts of Aniana they probably shouldn't be, Barnes, Sam, and Ayo follow up with M'yra's latest intel and pursue their own hunt for answers…
While M'yra's latest intel indicated a proposed path that would circumvent local police patrols and lead them to their intended location, Barnes kept a steady watch on their shifting surroundings. The streets here felt older, and crumbling facades made way to pockets of boarded-up buildings where proud family-run shops and restaurants once took root. Now, all that remained were the empty husks of those prosperous dreams, replaced by a deep, lingering silence that haunted the night air.
This section of Aniana wasn't strictly abandoned, but both the automotive traffic and nighttime crowds clearly preferred to congregate around more active and prosperous parts of downtown. Although Barnes knew that having fewer people out in the open didn't intrinsically make an area less dangerous, he found he was at least slightly relieved to not have to actively track so many moving targets at once. It made it easier to run threat assessments on the few that remained, none of which were cause for immediate concern.
A step beside him, he knew Ayo was evaluating them too. She remained alert and on her guard, and had fallen into silence after Sam's latest attempt to ask questions better left for later.
The cold didn't bother Barnes, but he respected that the leather gloves and jacket Shuri'd offered him were meant more as a means to blend in and obscure his prosthesis than to offer meaningful benefits. If anything, he found the jacket slightly restrictive, but this detractant was balanced out by the fact she'd not only reinforced it with vibranium weave, but had added a reasonable, if still slightly suboptimal number of pockets to the interior lining.
Conceptually, he understood why he was not permitted munitions, but privately, he took comfort in the knowledge that he still had access to a number of counter-defensive options if the situation warranted it, up to and including his Kimoyo Beads, the stones, vibranium star, and cell-phone in his pockets, as well as the jacket itself.
Not that he was looking for an excuse to utilize any of those accessories, to be sure. He fully intended to follow Ayo's lead, but that didn't mean it was preferable to ignore what might be necessary if they encountered opposition or suddenly came under fire. He may have promised not to lean into unnecessary killing blows, but that didn't mean he planned to stand still and allow he and his allies to be gunned down without a fight.
He was certain Ayo knew that too, which was likely why she hadn't reclaimed the items in his pockets.
That being as it was, the streets of Aniana had a way of reminding Barnes of many things at once. His mind sought out the shadows for lurking threats while it rapidly pinpointed the stark contrasts between the city's present appearance and the glimmers he remembered from an undefined past. It was an unsettling reminder of how profoundly fractured his life was compared to everyone around him, including Ayo and Sam.
He knew something was off with his mind. That much was abundantly clear. The chronology of events he remembered were twisted into knots so disjointed from any calendar that it was hard to even begin to make sense of them, but that didn't stop his addled mind from trying.
The cobblestone paths and city itself weren't foreign to him, though the cars and clothing of the residents changed greatly over the years. He couldn't immediately date the model years of the automobiles he remembered or cross-compare various decades of ever-evolving Symkarian fashion trends, but maybe given a bit more time, someone like Shuri or even M'yra could help weave it together with those journals he'd written during scattered years. As it was, all he knew was he remembered walking these streets, and with each step, he gained confidence in the belief that those shards of recollection spanned not only multiple days, but decades, which was troubling for other reasons.
The concept of passing time wasn't new to him, but it was as if the actual experience of how it moved in tune with the lives of the people around him hadn't begun to stabilize until weeks after he'd escaped from HYDRA. The cycles of day and night. Minutes and hours. Days and weeks placed one after another separated only by brief periods of uneasy sleep while he perched high atop buildings in Washington D.C.
But that wasn't how it had once been.
He didn't have memories of what came before HYDRA. Not really. At best, they were flickers in his periphery, shimmers of something else that came before. Forever just out of reach. Locked away behind fogged glass where the only clarity to be seen was through splintered cracks.
The years he'd endured under HYDRA's ever-present watch… the dates and years he knew were the only ones he was told. Just as quickly, they too faded away into the crackle of electricity and bitter cold. Then, with a few choice words, he would be told new sets of dates, sometimes by the same handlers, sometimes by new faces entirely.
But the dates meant nothing to him. They were simply pockets of raw data meant to be systematically logged, suppressed, and then pulled back up again with the right commands.
At the time, he didn't grasp how the world outside his rigid cocoon was moving ever-forward without him, but if he were being honest with himself? He didn't think back then he was even capable of recounting the last date he'd been given unless it had been accompanied by code words and cold obedience. Everything else was always washed away in the electric pulses, buried deep in his mind to be accessed only by his handlers and their trusted assistants.
That's how they wanted it. How they wanted him. An obedient Soldier who didn't ask questions. Who didn't — couldn't — reminiscence about past missions.
Or past lives, as it turned out.
But now, something was breaking through. Though Barnes struggled to define the specifics, the map he had in his mind of the city's layout wasn't simply an empty page like it was after each wipe. Instead, portions of that diagram were now filled in with clear details he desperately hoped added up to something useful. Something that would help them unravel any one of the deadly mysteries hiding in the city's looming shadow.
While it was dangerous and ill advised to pursue any of the venues that were connected to the recent string of deadly and unsolved crimes that befallen the city, Barnes was admittedly more than a little surprised that Ayo had been receptive to casually investigating one far-removed location that M'yra claimed might relate to his distant past.
Well 'distant' chronologically speaking.
He wasn't sure exactly how she'd managed it, but from what he could decipher, she'd leveraged some details from a series of journal entries he'd written in 2015 as the groundwork to try and collate — among other things — potential extraction points HYDRA'd used to get him into and out of their hidden base of operations within Aniana. One location in particular was only a few blocks away, warranting a quick look before the three of them needed to return to their timely meet up with Shuri, Yama, and Nomble so they could make their way to the safehouse for the night.
He still wasn't sure why M'yra was compelled to assist their cause after what he'd done to her, but it was becoming increasingly clear that her contributions and sharp mind for details were valuable in more ways than one, and that Ayo and Shuri hadn't been proponents of her participation simply as a consolation for her injuries.
…Which then had a way of making Barnes evermore guilty for the grave harm he'd caused her in the Propulsion Laboratory.
Barnes, Ayo and Sam walked in silence along the nearly empty streets, but when the directional indicator from one of Ayo's Kimoyo Beads lightly vibrated for her attention, her heeled footfalls slowed to a stop on the damp coblestones. She casually surveyed their surroundings, and once satisfied, her nimble fingers made a discreet gesture to increase the intensity of their ambient audio dampeners while she waited for a passing couple to turn the corner along the far side of the street, "Anything?"
Barnes knew her words were for him as she leaned into his experience with the city itself as well as his heightened senses, "No. It's clear."
She inclined her head and took a few casual steps forward before turning into a wide alleyway situated between a butcher shop and what looked to be a boarded-up second hand clothing store. Silently, she plucked a Kimoyo Bead from her wrist and placed it seamlessly into one of the many cracks of the weathered stucco facade.
Once the three of them were tucked within the darkened alleyway, Ayo noted, "I've amplified the audio field so we can be more direct. Our words will sound garbled in an indistinct tongue to anyone who might chance to overhear, but we should still be mindful of our conversations, and what ones should wait."
Ayo didn't repeat it out loud, but Barnes was guessing she was politely pre-empting any of Sam's incessant follow-up questions surrounding what Barnes recalled of the Black Widow operatives. In response, Sam crossed one arm over the other in an obvious feign that he hadn't been considering broaching that exact topic.
He was nothing if not predictable, but at least he was learning.
That being as it was, although M'yra's latest report claimed at one point in time the walls on either side of the alleyway had both been brick, the opening between buildings now sported crumbling, spray-painted stucco on one side and stained brick on the other. There wasn't a single window to be seen along either building's alley-facing walls, though there were numerous wooden doors on either side that were lacquered with thick layers of peeled paint. From what he could tell, they likely served as secondary access points to the shops on either side.
As Barnes came to a stop a few steps into the alleyway, he searched the darkened skyline for threats. Finding none, he focused on trying to search out any sense of familiarity with the location in the hopes that some buried part of him might remember standing where he was now.
For not the first time: he came up blank.
Sam took a few additional steps forward until he stood just beside him, seeking to make himself useful by scanning the graffitied walls for clues, "So this was… one of the pick-up spots or drop-offs? Something to that effect?"
Barnes cast his eyes to one side of the long corridor and then the other, ensuring that no one was lingering on either end. As if sensing Barnes's split focus, Ayo took it upon herself to stand with her back to the nearest wall in what Barnes interpreted as a lookout position so he and Sam could discuss on M'yra's findings. "There wasn't enough context to date it, but she thinks there might've been a vehicle pick-up that originated from close by. Probably one side or the other."
Sam looked out to either end before asking the obvious, "Well does anything feel familiar?"
If only it were that easy, "Not exactly, no."
"Not exactly?" Sam repeated in that annoying way only he could manage in so few words.
Barnes frowned as he looked up, double-checking that no one was spying on them from the rooftops above, "I mean, I've been here in the city. I know that much. I recognize the layout, but it's hard to separate out the details enough to figure out what's potentially meaningful."
"So you remember this alley then?"
"I knew the pass-through was here, and that it connected the streets on either side, but..." he faded off.
"But what?"
While the alleyway wasn't immediately familiar, there was something about it that he couldn't shake either. Like it wasn't just rote parts of that map of Aniana emblazoned into his head. Like there was a layer on top of it.
Like he'd been here in a time before. When dates and years were just rote data points on someone else's calendar.
"Might just be wishful thinking, but I might've passed through here. Hard to tell."
Sam licked his lips and leaned his weight to one side like he was preparing to ask something that he knew risked making Barnes uncomfortable, "...But you remember other parts of the city clearer, right?"
Barnes raised an eyebrow in his direction. He didn't get the impression Sam was purposefully trying to ask the same questions it felt like they'd already covered before, but maybe this whole situation was even more confusing from the outside.
That, or maybe he hadn't admitted to taking a hit on the head during their group sparring sessions earlier. "Some parts, yeah, but there's a lot of background noise. Like I told you before: I remember being in the city, it's just that certain sections are clearer than others and what I'm assuming is the chronological order is all jumbled. But I know the layout. There are flickers I can recall, like some of those in the journals, but I don't know where or when they took place."
"So you're tryin' to follow the breadcrumbs, but some of the crumbs in between are missing?"
"What is it with you and food comparisons?"
"Nuthin' wrong with colloquialisms to make sure we're on the same page, Mr. I'm Deflecting."
Barnes grumbled something in one of the many languages he was certain Sam didn't know and took it upon himself to continue walking the length of the alleyway, scouring it for any lingering clues that might offer him valuable insight from a bygone age. A few steps behind him, Sam kept pace, and while Barnes wasn't about to admit it out loud, the fact the other man'd gone silent almost felt unnatural.
But that clearly had nothing to do with why Barnes chose to respond, "But yeah. I guess it's kinda like what you said. About the breadcrumbs. I remember being in various parts of the city, but I'm trying to feel out anything that might connect this section to any of that. If I could get a handhold on something useful, then maybe I could retrace my steps to that place they had me and the others."
To HYDRA's base of operations within the city.
Or at least, where it used to be.
Barnes sighed and turned around, briefly catching Sam's eye as he walked past him. Maybe he'd been directed to go the other direction? He didn't have much to go on, and that was assuming M'yra's calculations were correct. Even she'd admitted this wasn't an exact science.
He made his way back towards the far end of the alleyway where Ayo was stationed, hoping that somewhere along the way, something would click. Instead, each failed step had a way of only making him increasingly frustrated with himself, and his premature declaration that if he was given the opportunity to visit the city in person, he could find his way back to where he'd been kept with the others.
Ayo turned her head towards him as he drew near. She watched him with a quiet intensity that had a way of making him feel as if she were somehow capable of reading his innermost thoughts. Discreetly, she flicked a finger to silence the microphone on her local comms, "It is not unreasonable to assume the answers you seek may not surface immediately. There is wisdom in being patient with your expectations of yourself." She looked past him to where Sam stood a distance away, intentionally giving the two of them space to converse while he evaluated the nearest door. "It is possible that your allies may possess valuable insights even though they were not present for your past trials." Ayo kept her voice low as she added, "You know he wants to help."
Barnes chewed his lip, well aware of what she was getting at, "I know. This isn't about him. It's just…" he struggled to keep his voice even as he added, "They weren't good times. None of it was."
The soulful brown eyes that met him grasped what he was trying but failing to articulate, "I know. But that is why we are here." She raised her chin, indicating Sam at the far end of the alleyway, "And why you should not be so quick to dismiss the strengths of 'Team Underdog' in preference for solitary pursuit of purpose. It is not weakness to seek fresh perspectives."
Barnes acknowledged her remark with a half-hearted grumble from the back of his throat. She was right and he knew it, but accepting help for this sort of thing didn't come easy to him. It probably never would, "Fine."
A faint proud smile floated over her features. While she didn't say anything more aloud, were Yama there in her place, Barnes felt certain she would have freely levied the accusation of stubbornness against him.
Hopefully wherever she, Nomble, and Shuri were now, they were staying out of trouble.
With very much not begrudging steps, Barnes made his way back towards where Sam was waiting for him. As he approached, Sam raised an eyebrow, "You and Ayo figure out anything new from your latest huddle?"
Barnes shifted his weight, wishing for not the first time that the dreary back alleyway might draw out any useful specifics beyond vague familiarity, "Nah. She just thinks I should be more open to leveraging 'Team Underdog.'"
"That so?" Sam tutted, bemused.
Barnes shot him what he hoped was a suitably-earned glare. In response, Sam only lifted up his palms in mock-surrender, "Hey? Your words, not mine." Once he was finished making a show of things, he lowered his hands and gave the alleyway another long, meaningful look, "Well, do you remember anything about how it looked at the time, or what direction you were facin'?"
"I was blindfolded, remember?" Barnes deadpanned.
"Well you were the one I recall claimin' you could maybe retrace things given the opportunity, so work with me here. No use grumpin' at someone tryin' to help you."
Barnes was not 'grumping,' whatever that was. He did what he could to remind himself that Sam was doing his best to be useful. It wasn't his fault that he didn't have the answers either. "It's just… frustrating," Barnes half apologized into a sigh. He ignored the allure of smooth holographic interfaces tucked within the Kimoyo Beads around his wrist instead opted to pull his phone out of his pocket so he could access some of the supplementary notes M'yra'd included in her correspondence.
His fingers flicked over the display as he tried to ascertain the method by which M'yra had arrived at her conclusion that this particular location might've been utilized by HYDRA in the distant past. From what he could gather from her notes, her working theory came about from scouring cross sections of the city and systematically evaluating them by process of elimination in combination with the various notes he'd jotted down about encounters in Symkaria. In this particular case, her best guess was he'd been blindfolded before being led out into the alleyway through one of the side doors. From there, he'd been directed to his right and walked the nineteen paces he'd specified in the journals to where a transport vehicle had been waiting to take him and the person accompanying him to HYDRA's undisclosed base of operations.
Barnes found himself retracing those crucial steps and confirming M'yra's measure of the relative distance while Sam watched on, "I take it you're double-checking her math?"
"Yeah. She was able to translate the number of paces I'd listed, multiply that by my stride length, and turn that into an approximate measurement on how far the door I'd exited from was from the street. Problem is, the doors on either side are the same relative distance from their nearest curbs, so it's not clear which one I originally exited from. And without knowing that—"
"—It's impossible to map out the tight twists and turns that came after," Sam finished, mulling it over. "You remember which way you turned initially, at least?"
"Yeah. I came out of one of the doors, turned right, walked nineteen paces, and was picked up by a vehicle that was waiting for me."
Sam eyed the length of the alleyway, "Did you walk it by yourself, or was something with you."
"Someone was nearly always with me for the pick-ups. To prep me. Blindfolded, remember?"
"I mean, technically you can blindfold yourself…"
Barnes chose not to even acknowledge Sam's remark with a reply.
"Well, which side?"
"Which side?" Barnes repeated, confused at what Sam was getting at.
"Did they usually stand on, I mean?"
Barnes considered what Sam was digging at, "It varied but… usually the right. Away from the arm."
Sam paced lightly, thinking on his feet, "Okay so you were blindfolded and led outside through one of the doors on either side. The ones nearest the street, but you and I don't know which side. And then you turn right, and you're walkin' with someone on your right, away from the arm." He smacked his lips in thought, "So assumin' all'a that, if you were beside 'em, that'd put the wall on your left, so you'd be closer to it rather than standin' in the middle like you are now."
Barnes blinked. It was… a fair observation, and he found himself taking a step to his left so his vibranium shoulder was closer to the wall in case it made a difference. It certainly couldn't hurt.
Sam could be annoying, but even a broken clock was right twice a day.
He was sure Sam saw him adjust his relative positioning within the alleyway, but the man jabbering away didn't choose to make mention of it, "You try closin' your eyes like you did earlier with that recall thing you did with Ayo and the others? Maybe you could use the shawl as a blindfol—"
Sam's words were cut short from what Barnes presumed was the look of utter disbelief on his own face, "—Yeah, that wouldn't look suspicious at all, Sam."
Sam flailed a hand in his direction as he quickly added, "Just listin' out our options."
"I can just close my eyes like I would have had them at the time," he pointed out as he ran his fingers over the black and gold hem of the new silken shawl General Okoye and King T'Challa had recently gifted him. But no sooner had he proposed the idea than he realized that the mere idea of briefly closing his eyes in a dangerous city like this had a way of immediately raising his hackles.
That being as it was, it was a fair observation, and Barnes took one last long look over his surroundings ensuring that nothing worrisome was out of place before he resolved to slowly close his eyes. Maybe Sam was right and he'd be able to key into something important if he wasn't being distracted by visual stimulus.
Or Sam flailing his hands.
As he stood there trying to acclimate to the unsettling sensation, he reminded himself that Ayo was still on her guard nearby, aided by advanced Wakandan reconnaissance technology that kept watch over their position. A few steps away from him, Sam was on high alert too, but he was probably also facing him with that overly-concerned expression of his.
Even so, it was absolutely unnerving to just stand there like he was waiting for something to happen. For some fragment of recall to just suddenly strike him.
"Anything?"
"Are you always this impatient?"
"Okay, well walk me through how I can help, then. That 'Sunrise Exercise' stuff you did. You think we could do somethin' along those lines here?"
Barnes cracked an eye open, "Could you say that any louder?"
Unphased, Sam offered only an easy shrug before propping his shoulder against the nearest wall, "You're the one with the—" he flailed a hand, letting the broad gesture take the place of whatever medical jargon he was digging at "—memory stuff. You said sometimes how your body's positioned or movin' helps you recall details of similar times, right? So maybe we could tap into that part'a your brain here too?"
Barnes knew exactly what Sam was getting at. It wasn't like he hadn't considered one of any number of possibilities how they could potentially access the memories that lay hidden within the fibers of his body, but deep down he was also well-aware of why he was dragging his feet at the prospect.
Maybe Sam'd picked-up on his apprehension too, "If you want me to drop it or get Ayo instead…" His companion's voice was staunchly serious and stripped of even a hint of a teasing edge. He was offering Barnes an easy out if he found either of those options more palatable.
"No, it's fine. It's just…" Barnes made a sound deep in his throat as he tried to find a way to sort out what was stewing in his gut. When he finally spoke, he kept his voice barely above a whisper, "With the 'Sunrise' stuff… Ayo and the others were trying to trace back to something they knew. That they'd experienced. Something poignant, but safe. From after they'd already done surgeries to try and help alleviate things. This…" his blue eyes traced the length of the musky, graffiti-tagged alleyway, "...this is a lot further back. To when things were still broken and they had me fixed firmly under their thumb. That's a whole different angle of roleplaying you're asking me to step into."
Sam flinched at his statement and briefly turned his head to catch Ayo's eye. Barnes wasn't sure what passed between the two of them, but a moment later Sam refocused on him, "Look, it was just an idea. I wasn't trying to push you towards a side of hot trauma. Forget I mentioned it."
"I was already considering it before you brought it up," Barnes was quick to clarify, "I was just hoping it wouldn't be necessary. That the missing pieces that would help figure out where they took me to, that they'd just… come to me." He huffed out a defeated sigh and ground his stubbled jaw before adding, "But yeah, maybe going through the motions might unlock something useful. Something I can grab onto."
A frown was still plastered across Sam's face, but he didn't shut the renewed topic down outright, "I'm assuming you mean them leadin' you?"
Barnes hadn't honestly thought that far ahead. He only knew this whole idea of playing pretend and not knowing what it might dredge up wasn't the least bit comforting. That being as it was, it seemed like their best shot for the time being, "Yeah. We could start with that."
"Do you want to start with that?" Sam specified, "'Cause you're kinda sendin' me all sorts of mixed messages here. I hope you know this wasn't exactly the sort of thing I was hankering for on a Tuesday night here either."
Barnes scowled, frustrated with himself and the situation in general, "It's not about you, it's… all the other stuff. That it's a package deal, and I don't get to pick and choose what might surface, assuming I can tap into anything at all. The last time I tried back in the suite, I wasn't able to remember anything new, and supposedly I'd been there only days before with you, but…" he faded off and set his jaw, knowing just where this was all headed, "but yeah, we can try. Better now than in the daytime anyway. Less likely to draw attention."
Sam mulled over his reasoning and must've deemed it acceptable before proceeding, "Okay, so how do you want to do this? Close your eyes and have me lead you one way, then the other, and see if you pick up on anything?"
"Yeah, we can try that," Barnes knew he was capable of injecting more feigned confidence into his voice, but for the time being he let his general frustration with their present situation settle around him.
Sam offered him a curt nod and took a step closer and he took up position next to Barnes's right shoulder, "Like this?"
Barnes raised an eyebrow. It was a little close for his general comfort levels, but he did what he could to calculate the distance against the dozens of times he'd been escorted by various individuals over the years. Some liked crowding him, others… "Probably another step back. A lot… preferred to keep their distance after... " he flinched and rapidly shook the vivid memory away.
Sam obediently backed up a step and to the side as he let curiosity get the better of him, "After…?"
Barnes rubbed his gloved fingers together, feeling the tight leather over his skin as he deliberated if and how he wanted to respond. For not the first time, he found himself wondering if Sam didn't know because 'their friend' had kept it to himself, or if it was something he'd been forced to forget like so much else? In the present, there wasn't any way to tell the difference, and Barnes wasn't sure why it mattered, but it did all the same.
At least now, he had the choice to respond or leave the past dead and buried.
But in that moment, standing on foreign soil when he'd once been used as a pawn in someone else's game of chess, he found himself compelled — for not the first time — to crack the door open just a hair. Not far enough to let the demons of the past claw their way out, but enough that the people closest to him that he was supposed to trust and that were supposed to trust him… that they might understand a fraction of where he was coming from.
Barnes wet his lips before he lifted his eyes and admitted succinctly to the night air, "Some of them liked to try and get reactions out of me. To test the limits of my obedience. Sometimes it backfired."
The man standing beside him frowned and shifted his weight uneasily. He let the statement hang in the heavy air a moment before he concluded, "Sounds like they got whatever was comin' to 'em."
"Maybe," Barnes remarked, "Didn't stop them though. Only had a way of making it worse." His hand flitted over unseen spots once marred with the ash of smoldering cigarettes, cigars, and sharp blades, including the wounds he'd been direct to inflict upon himself as proof of his resolve.
It was confusing then, just like he didn't understand the expressions on the faces looking back at him, making demands of him, but even the lens loaned to him by the passing of time didn't make their actions anymore palatable. They only sparked more questions he was unlikely to ever have answers for. More feelings of unease. Pain. Shame.
Failure.
The sounds of the aching city itself seemed to fade to the background as the man standing beside him sucked in a deep, harried breath and slowly let it out, "...Shouldn't'a asked. I just... That's awful."
Barnes did what he could to not linger on the topic any longer than he needed to, "Yeah well. Why we're here, right? To make sure it's not still happening, or something like it. I wasn't the only one they had here."
…What had happened to them? To those people from long ago? Could the prisoners, or some of those calling the shots still be alive?
Yama'd called them monsters, and while Barnes wouldn't deny her claim outright, not everyone that pledged allegiance to HYDRA had been the same. Some had been vile and cruel to be sure, but there were others that were far more difficult to paint with the same bloodied brush. Ones like Sofia, that blond-haired nurse that had tended to the raw wounds left behind from ongoing cigarette burns. Away from the eyes of her superiors, she had discreetly offered him painkillers, brushed his teeth, and sometimes even combed his hair.
Barnes knew she was undoubtedly affiliated with HYDRA, but did that make her a monster too?
He wasn't so sure.
By the same logic, he'd been marked as a monster too then, hadn't he?
Sam kept his eyes fixated on the side of Barne's face, like he was doing his best to mindread what was bubbling under the surface, "Can you walk me through the particulars you feel are relevant here, for what we're tryin' to do?"
This whole thing would be a lot easier if Barnes knew exactly what bucket of lived experience he was chasing, but he did his best to try to drum up whatever he could, "Well… it varied a lot over the years, but the way it usually worked is there'd be a meetup point. A staging area. Drop-offs, pick-ups, that sort of thing. That's where they'd take care of load-outs and clean-up too. Sometimes the transports would come shortly after mission objectives had been fulfilled. Other times they'd wait until it was later in the day and the coast was clear. But they always blindfolded me inside and kept me that way until I got where I was going."
Barnes indicated one of the two potential exit doors. "If it was a pick-up like this one apparently was, they'd escort me to whatever vehicle they had waiting for me out on the street. The whole point was to disorient me and anyone else they were bringing along for the ride. People I'd tagged, or they wanted to interrogate, or visitors they didn't trust enough to know their key locations."
Sam chewed over the information as he looked out over each side of the alleyway, "And by 'escorted' you, you mean…?"
"They usually led me by the arm." He used his gloved vibranium hand to indicate a spot just on the outside of the jacket of his right shoulder before adding, "You don't need to make it weird."
"I wasn't makin' it weird," Sam countered, doing exactly that, "You just said you don't like people touchin' you."
"I don't."
"Yeah okay so, you want me to now?"
"Not in so many words, but it seems fair considering."
Sam squinted at that, confused, "Wait, what's that supposed to mean?"
Barnes thought it was obvious enough, "Well, because last time, I was the one leading you." He paused a beat before adding, "Well… dragging. You know what I mean."
"...Are you seriously standing there comparing this here to when you took me for a damn hostage?"
"Maybe? I don't know, I thought maybe it might be at least a little cathartic being on the other side of that sort of role reversal. I wasn't implying you'd enjoy it."
"...Seriously? I swear to god, Barnes…"
"Well it sounds better than asking how often you've ever played pretend at being one of them."
"Exactly 'no' times," Sam was quick to emphasize without missing a beat.
"Okay. Well. You've had Armed Forces training, right? So you've done hostage scenarios. Can you at least make an effort to be convincing?"
"I see what you're getting at and I still don't like it, but yeah, okay. I can work with that comparison." Sam huffed before raising his left hand and gingerly positioning his grip around the meat of Barnes's right shoulder. It made for a pitiful attempt at mimicking someone holding onto their hostage, no less a HYDRA agent escort, "There, happy?"
"You're a terrible actor."
Sam applied a faint amount of pressure to the leather surrounding his shoulder, "That better?"
"If you were going for 'gentle...'"
His grip grew marginally firmer, "How about now?"
"...Passable."
Sam made sure his retort about an 'Unappreciative Cyborg' was audible before he added, "Okay, and you want me to lead you back and forth from the doors nearest the ends there to the openings on either side of the alleyway, like a guide dog?"
"Your comparison, not mine."
"You gonna close your eyes or what?"
"I might not remember the details, but I can tell you there wasn't this much talking…"
"Close your eyes then, you absolute smartass."
Barnes grumbled in defiance and spared a moment to glance over his shoulder to where Ayo kept watch from the far end of the alleyway. Considering they'd chosen to keep their communicators active so they could hear each other through the audio dampeners, he was well aware she'd overheard the particulars of their exchange. But the expression she cast his way was steadfast and no-nonsense, like she knew what was riding on his decision. She was well aware how difficult it was for him to will himself to go along with this plan of his own making, especially when he couldn't even begin to name what horrors from his past might be lurking for him just under the surface of his memories.
She kept one hand near the concealed cylinder of her spear while she used the other to slowly sign, 'We are here.'
Barnes acknowledged her reply with a curt nod of resolve and pivoted his head back around. He spared a quick glimpse to Sam before finally forcing his own eyes closed. All the while, he pushed down the bubbling discomfort surrounding the plan he'd not only advocated for, but clearly wasn't being forced upon him.
But power of choice or not: it was harder than he would have thought to keep his eyes closed and trust in the process.
Part of it was undoubtedly that Aniana was unquestionably dangerous, and his enhanced senses and familiarity with the city far exceeded Ayo and Sam's more limited exposure to the turbulent location. But it was more than that. He trusted Sam enough to know he wouldn't do something stupid like walk him into traffic, but the fractured memories nipping at his periphery pulled at him, reminded him that he could not simply trust, he had to submit.
He might not've remembered the details of being here, in this place, but he remembered any number of similar experiences, as well as a heavy helping of what came before and after.
When he'd been instructed to close his eyes, he did so without debate, without a moment's consideration for his preferences or the motivations behind such a request. He hadn't tried to track their routes in and out of the compound or catch a peek when he thought no one was paying attention.
He just obeyed.
Whereas he had once been content to not spend a single spare cycle considering the alternatives, now, all he could feel were how they chewed at his thoughts. Made him question his own decisions.
It wasn't focused on just one topic, either. It was a blend, a pushing and pulling of the tide. Quiet, ever-present concerns for the safety of those directly around him stretched with the desire to be assured of Shuri's present well-being and the promises he'd made to Okoye to protect the Princess. These thoughts were met and mixed with distant worries for what they may or may not be able to accomplish in Symkaria, and how much time he had left as himself.
Moreover, what might happen to him in the coming days if no solution was found for the ailments plaguing his mind? Who would he be then if he continued to forget, and his very identity became further untethered?
All the while, Barnes found himself struggling to maintain focus on the pressure of that hand gripped around his right shoulder, and how it had a way of leeching in memories of all the other hands that had been laid upon him over the years. Some part of him knew he had to let go and bid himself to sink deeper into that dark void. That this desperate attempt to reconnect to memories from his grim past was a manifestation of purposeful intention, but he could feel himself fighting back against the inclination, because as much as he wanted to be able to help locate that hidden base of operations, he didn't want to be pulled under and made to remember the terrible things slicked against that dark place.
Barnes didn't know how long he'd been standing there with his eyes pressed closed and his hands locked into loose fists, but the hand resting on his shoulder slowly squeezed once in a gentle, wordless reminder of Sam's shared solidarity. That even if Barnes chose not to verbalize the shapes of the demons he was wrestling with, he wasn't alone.
And moreover: that Sam was trying to help take on some of that burden in his own way too.
Barnes might not've said anything out loud, but it helped.
Then just like that, the moment passed and the fingers wrapped around Barnes's shoulder tightened. It wasn't not hard enough to hurt or cause a bruise, but enough to mean business. In response, Barnes did what he could to let himself take a backseat to the ever present worries swirling around his head.
He tried to just exist. To go back to being a thing rather than a person. To accept the hand on his shoulder rather than to question it or anything else.
Sam didn't ask for pointers on how to roleplay a HYDRA agent escorting their Asset, he just started walking forward, pulling Barnes briskly next to him without a word. It was jarring at first, and Barnes had to repeatedly resist the urge to crack an eye to double-check their surroundings, but eventually he pushed the inclination down and did what he could to keep pace with the man close beside him, even after his left shoulder bounce-scraped against the nearest wall. Barnes was certain that on at least one occasion he'd nearly collided into Sam outright, but he forcibly pushed his instincts down right with the ones that bubbled up the incessant desire to offer the other man critiques on his performance.
That, and the ones that screamed that it was far safer, wiser to keep his eyes open and alert.
After nineteen paces, Sam paused and pivoted them around. He walked them to what Barnes was assuming was the door at the far end and used his hand to guide Barnes so his back was to it before prompting him forward and right towards the far end of the alleyway. The pace started at an even clip that quickly transformed into a controlled march. All the while, the hand on his shoulder stayed firm as the man beside him — the one that Barnes tried to pretend wasn't Sam — applied steady pressure and pulled him through the narrow path between the buildings.
Nineteen paces later, they reached what must've been the other end of the alleyway and his escort pivoted him again, marching him back the opposite direction and using that hand of his to push Barnes forward, to guide him so he was a step in front of him. The pressure was firm and instructional, and Barnes found himself keying into the echo of their footfalls against the uneven cobblestones.
Then out of nowhere, that hand gripped on his shoulder gave him the smallest little shove.
It wasn't hard, wasn't rough enough to make him stumble and fall, but he had to briefly scramble to recover his balance.
But Barnes's first instinct wasn't to open his eyes or accuse Sam of being careless — instead some buried part of his mind rose up at the wanton familiarity of such treatment and moreover how he naturally accepted it as the status-quo.
It wasn't his place to question.
The sharp sound of his boots momentarily skidding over the damp stones pulled at a thread in the back of his mind. How the echo of the scrapes scratched at something buried deep even as his own feet complied to the treatment without a second thought.
Another pivot, more steps. That hand on his shoulder tightened and kept him moving.
Always moving.
At some point, he stopped counting the steps or even trying to orient himself to sense if they were walking towards Ayo or in the other direction. He was dully aware that their pace shifted now and again. Sometimes slow and steady, other times it grew so urgent that his far elbow briefly bounced against the nearest wall. He was dimly aware of the abrupt contact and the way that the light shifted slightly behind his eyelids. It was less sheltered here, the acoustics were more pronounced against the sound of their footsteps. And it was brighter, and he briefly caught a faint whiff of cigarettes—
The hand on his shoulder tightened as his mind catapulted him sideways and backwards right as a steel-toed boot struck hard against his heel, prompting him to come to an abrupt halt.
A gruff voice ripe with the stench of tobacco broke the silence in thickly accented words, "Stay, солдат."
He stiffened in recognition of that voice. Nikoli. His temporary handler. Who he must obey unless his primary handler's orders took precedence.
The hand gripped on his shoulder briefly lifted and rancid smoke filled his nostrils as the man beside him took a long draw from an unseen cigarette before casually remarking, "Bet you don't even remember what we did with a pack of these last week, do you?"
It was a question he was compelled to answer, "No." The word was hollow. Empty. His whole body felt tight and restricted and though he kept his eyes closed firmly behind the fabric of the blindfold. Just like he'd been asked. Strands of long hair pressed against his eyelashes and teasing his nostrils. He could just barely make out the faint scent of blood on the tips.
"Well I'm sure Fedor's looking forward to getting a few minutes with you before they fry you again. Seems fair considering what you did to his hands."
The soldier didn't remember anyone named Fedor. Was he supposed to?
It wasn't his place to ask.
There was a voice in the distance, another muffled by the sound of latches nearby. The quiet jingle of keys. Wheels. Car doors. "Move it," His temporary handler shoved him forward and he made it four more steps before his shins struck against a metal frame. "Pick your feet up, stupid."
The soldier couldn't see anything, and when he lifted his nearest hand to help guide him into what he assumed was a vehicle, it was abruptly struck away by a instructory blow to his knuckles as he was shoved face-first into the vehicle. Unseen hands pulled and pushed at him, turning him about so he was facing the opposite direction.
"You're sure you weren't seen?"
"Hell if I know. He was late."
Something rigid jammed against his side. Car doors slammed. Three of them, one-by one. There was a whining noise, scuffling, then the vehicle lurched forward. The air was thick with smoke, but the soldier knew better than to cough.
An indistinct voice sitting across from him inquired, "But the job's done?"
"That's what he said in his mission report," his temporary handler mentioned from just to his right. "Tracked him down and shot 'em through the throat. Dumped him after takin' out his family a few blocks away. Made it look like a break-in."
"His family? That wasn't part of his original orders."
The older man's ruff voice returned, "Were part'a my orders, which means it was part of his. How this whole thing works. Last thing we needed was his parents filing a missing person's report that led back to us." After a beat he added, "Oh don't look so broken up about it. I asked for 'im to make it nice'n quick on his folks. More'n I can say for our boy, though."
An elbow jutted sharply into his ribs as his Nikoli goaded him on, "Tell him what you told me. About how you let him bleed out. Nice'n slow, like he deserved."
Although the soldier didn't remember when the lesson had been taught to him, he recalled once being instructed to not let his targets suffer unnecessarily. It was a liability. Cruel. But it was something else too. Something that struck him in a different way.
He wouldn't disobey his orders. Wouldn't question them. But all he knew was that as his primary target slowly bleed out from the gaping wound in his throat, something inside the soldier had churned and twisted. The initial shot was fired with intention, inflicted as a precaution against someone who had once also been a handler, and who could not be permitted the opportunity to speak controlling words against him.
The dying man's mouth moved in silent words while he clutched at the bloodied mess that was once his neck. Moments later, the soldier issued a second shot and killing blow, ending his suffering. "The primary target was shot first through the neck to ensure his inability to speak or call for assistance. A second shot was made through the front of his head to eliminate him."
Maybe it was the fact he was blindfolded, feeling the push and pull of the car's shifting momentum and occasional turns against his body. Maybe it was the fact his temporary handler continued to press what felt like a muzzle of his weapon into the sore space between the soldier's ribs. Whatever it was, it was as if he was subtly aware that something about this mission felt… different… off. Though he couldn't put his finger on what set it apart, especially considering he found he had limited recollection of prior missions.
What lingered in his periphery was the unique attribute that he'd been tasked to hunt down and assassinate someone he was told was a prior handler. A temporary handler. Someone that knew a means to verbally disarm him, which is why he'd chosen to go for a shot at his throat as he'd been instructed.
The takedown was clean. Effortless. His target hadn't been armed, and in fact by the looks of it? He'd been packing his things in preparation to leave when he'd been spotted and systematically dispatched.
Maybe the mission felt different because at some point in a past he couldn't remember, he'd been a temporary handler? That some part of the soldier felt the pull of that strange forged bond he didn't entirely understand? But as the man lay there bleeding out in a pool of his own blood, he wore an expression the Soldier didn't understand, one that didn't match with other expressions he recalled, even on other mission targets. There was familiarity there, and something else too.
And as he lay dying, just before the soldier pulled the trigger to end his misery, the man had taken great efforts and labored breaths to slowly mouth, '...I'm… sorry...'
And the soldier didn't understand why.
No one had asked the soldier to recount such specific details, and so he kept them to himself, playing the moment again over and over in his mind as he struggled to understand what it meant.
Across from him, the man in the rear of the automobile grimly noted, "It was risky sending him out so soon. His wounds weren't fully healed."
From just to his right, Nikoli took a long draw from his cigarette and tutted, "Aw, stop being so soft. Their Asset is fine, aren't you precious?" The soldier felt rough flingers press into the cleft in the center of his chin as a puff of smoke filled his nostrils.
"Yes," the soldier obediently responded, because it was deemed to be the correct answer.
The man with the cigarette leaned back, "See? He says he's fine. And this'll make for a good lesson for anyone else thinkin' of trying their hand at—"
"Barnes!" Sam's commanding voice rapidly pulled him back to the present.
Although his first instinct was to open his eyes, Barnes squinted harder, forcing them to remain closed. If he opened them, he felt certain it could prematurely sever the memory he desperately clung to and the hidden details he needed to pull from it.
"It's this side," Barnes noted breathlessly, his voice coming out rattled and uneven. "Where they loaded me into the vehicle. There was a step up into it and… I… they turned me around so I was facing towards the back of the cab." There were a thousand other details that cried out for his attention, and raw, searing emotions that bubbled up against a host of searing questions about his past, but he didn't have time for that now. He had to focus so he could retrace his steps. To find HYDRA's hidden base. Everything else would have to wait.
Realizing he couldn't exactly feign the experience of sitting backwards while traveling in the opposite direction in a car, Barnes tried to memorize everything from the experience the best he could before he carefully peeled his eyes open and squinted up at the street light across from them. He was dully aware that Ayo'd turned from her post and had begun walking towards them. Barnes looked to his left, "They went this way."
He didn't wait for permission as he stepped out of the alley and back onto the sidewalk, adjusting his steps in tune with what he imagined as the moving car in the back of his mind. He could remember feeling it lurch forward and gain speed before it came to a rolling stop again.
There were hardly any vehicles on the street at this time of night, but he tried to think back to how the surrounding area might've looked in a bygone era, because he was certain the memory wasn't recent. He couldn't know how much the footprint of the city had changed and when stop signs had been replaced by traffic lights, but as he kept pace from the sidewalk, he could recall hearing the blinker tick from the dashboard behind him. He couldn't initially tell which direction it indicated, of course, but the sway of his body indicated an abrupt right turn.
Some part of him was aware of Sam and Ayo trailing a short distance behind him, but Barnes did his best to drown out their presence as he crossed the street and tracked the next two turns, one after the other. There were muffled sounds he could remember hearing outside, car horns and what he took for far-off planes, but they didn't offer any further layers of clarity. They were just distractions, like the people in the car that continued to crowd him and mock him.
He hadn't known. Hadn't understood. If he'd known then what he knew now, maybe he could have gotten away.
He pushed those painful thoughts down too and did everything he could to focus on the motion of his body separate from when others pushed and pulled at him. To just lean into tracking the faint sway of how his body shifted directions with each acceleration, deceleration, and turn of the automobile he'd been transported in.
The man across from him had eventually complained about the heat and cracked the nearest window. The passenger's side. A cacophony of voices flooded in, intermingled with overlapping conversations so numerous that Barnes found it difficult to pick up any discreet threads. In the present, the matching area was oddly quiet. Colder. Darker.
Beyond another streetlight was an intersection that immediately gave him pause. At the junction, the narrow cobblestone road abruptly smoothed out and opened up into a paved traffic circle that didn't fit at all into the sharp turns his mind's eye imagined should be there. The direction and angles were all wrong, and he found his hand slipping into his pocket so he could hurriedly retrieve his phone and pull up a map before he lost the fragile threads in his mind. Something, anything that might offer a way to help him bridge the gap to the next step so he could draw closer to the HYDRA facility he remembered so clearly being here. They were over halfway there, he was sure of it.
His gloved hands frantically worked his phone, locating first the city map and then opening another search window to pull up information on the evolution of Aniana's street routes. The top answers weren't what he was looking for, beyond an article about how the city's rotunda began construction in 1966. That wasn't what he was looking for. It must've been before that.
He snarled something under his breath as Sam and Ayo padded to a stop on either side of him.
Sam caught his breath for a beat and observed three more of Barnes's failed search attempts before he finally spoke up, "...You know, it doesn't qualify as 'laying low' if you're gonna play Frogger with cars because you don't have the patience for traffic signals."
It wasn't Sam's usual banal teasing tone, though. There was an undercurrent of genuine concern that Barnes caught a hold of immediately. He blinked and looked up from his phone, confused, "What?"
"What was that about? Hell man, you were goin' so fast— did you even have your eyes open?"
Had he? He wasn't sure. They were open now, but as he looked out over the wide rotunda and paved traffic circle spotted with a ring of cars lazily making their way around to one of the many directional prongs, he found little to orient himself by.
His blue eyes frantically searched across the swaths of mottled brown grass, bushes, and skeleton trees for familiarity, but couldn't find anything to latch onto. Even the discolored statue in the center of the area just… wasn't supposed to be there. Not then. There were supposed to be more buildings. More angular roads. More turns. More city blocks. It was like the thread he'd been chasing was abruptly cut the moment the road had abruptly transitioned from familiar cobblestone to weathered asphalt. He kept his voice low, "The road changed since I was brought this way. The rotunda wasn't here before."
Ayo frowned and looked out over the bleak landscape, "But this was the way you were taken?"
"Yeah. I'm sure of it. But it's only part way there," he could feel the palpable frustration leaching into his voice.
"We can speak with M'yra later and see if she can locate some of the historical maps. That you came this far is encouraging progress."
"Yeah," Sam added, "You made it at least five or six blocks from where we started. Managed to dodge the patrols and even fit in a little bonus cardio too."
Barnes's head was swimming in questions and things he didn't want to remember, yet the only thing he needed to carve out of it was the location of the base, and he'd come up short. He knew they were right, that the fact his pursuit had gotten them this far wasn't an outright failure, but it sure felt like one. Maybe he could try again and—
"We can continue to search out more tomorrow. After we rest," Ayo specified, as if she had the inhuman ability to preempt his thoughts.
"But…" Barnes weakly objected.
"Tomorrow," she repeated in that firm tone of hers that left no room for debate. The one she used on her Lieutenants sometimes when she sought to swiftly table a particular topic. "We did not plan to come this far out, and you need time to process what you experienced just now rather than blindly pursuing more heapings of it in hopes of a different outcome."
He wanted to debate her, but she was right on both counts. Not only that, but the digital clock on his phone's display reminded him that they needed to meet back up with Shuri, Nomble, and Yama shortly, "Yeah, I know it's getting late."
Smoothly, Ayo placed another one of her Kimoyo Beads within the cracks of a nearby building at the juncture where he'd lost the thread of the memory he'd been chasing.
As Barnes bid his mind to settle, he took a closer look at their surroundings and scanned them anew for potential threats. Though they'd moved deeper into the city, like before, he found nothing overtly concerning, and the few people out on the streets showed only passing interest in them. Once that matter was attended to, he found himself glancing back towards Sam, who was presently doing a damn good impression of that staring thing he usually gave Barnes lip about, "What?"
"You good?"
The question caught him off guard, "Good?"
"Yeah, that was pretty weird back there. Not sure what you saw, but… you good?"
Barnes wasn't entirely sure how to respond to that, but he did his best to answer honestly, "I… will be. I think. I—"
Sam held up a single hand, "Wasn't insinuating we needed to have a debrief about it here. I'm with Ayo: We should call it for tonight. Get some rest. Decompress. You've had a long day. We all have."
He was annoying, but he was also right. With a resigned sigh, Barnes lifted one hand to rub it over where Sam'd been holding his shoulder, "Thanks for… that."
"Don't mention it," Sam flicked a thumb towards the phone in Barnes's hand, "Since you already have that out, how 'bout doin' us a solid and pullin' up the path back to our rendezvous point? You got me turned around with those last few pivots of yours."
Barnes snorted lightly, doing what he could to distract himself with the call and response of simple answers for simple questions. It was preferable over allowing his jostled mind to linger too long on any number of pressing questions he had about the people and events surrounding the flashback he'd just sunken into, up to and including who his victim had been.
He knew he couldn't change the past, but as the travel route to their agreed upon meetup location populated on his phone, he happened to catch the reflection of a 24-hour convenience shop in the pooled water sitting in the street. Bright neon signs flashed for attention against faded posters and dirty windows marked up with their latest two-for-one sales. The bright pocket of light had a way of reminding him of other experiences, but mercifully not the ones he'd just been chasing, "Do we have a few minutes?"
Ayo cocked her head, curious, "We do, why?"
Barnes looked across the street intently, "I'd like to pick up some things from the corner store before we head back."
[Chapter 83 Chapter Art, by Shade]
[ID: A painting by Shade-of-Stars showing a portrait of Barnes as the Winter Soldier. He regards the viewer with emotive blue eyes framed by long brown hair and is wearing his iconic chrome arm and black leather tactical gear. End ID]
This painting by Shade is just so beautifully emotive, and I'm so honored to have the opportunity to share it with you!
While we're so often accustomed to seeing the Winter Soldier as a hardened assassin, I love the idea of seeing his silent humanity in those blue eyes of his. I love the way Shade was able to render that sort of deep rooted soul of his breaking through the noise of the role he was forced to play for so long.
As always, Shade ("Shade_of_stars" on Twitter), really crafted something incredible here, and I can't thank her enough for allowing me to share this piece with you. Please check out her Twitter and Artstation pages to see more of her beautiful art!
[Chapter 83 Chapter Art, by HardWiredWeird]
[ID: A painting by HardWiredWeird showing a portrait of Ayo against a pale yellow background. She is wearing a dark blue shirt with black trim and has strands of silver jewelry around her neck. She looks quite serious and focused. End ID]
HardWiredWeird ("hardwiredweird" on Twitter) also shared a beautiful study of Ayo that really felt fitting for this "under cover" chapter. I love how he was able to really capture her poise, strong presence, and no-nonsense attitude.
Please check out his Twitter and Tumblr accounts to see more of his incredible art! His skill with portraiture is phenomenal, and there are loads of recognizable characters across his art accounts! He's also just an all-around fantastic person and watercolor and gouache enabler.
Please check out this chapter on Archive of Our Own to see the gorgeous art and links to the artists' social media pages!
Author's Remarks:
I'm enjoying getting into the thick of things, and I look forward to hearing your thoughts on some of these plotty threads starting to finally coalesce together. It's wild thinking some of the setups for this stuff in Symkaria span nearly two real-life years!
If you need some refreshers, the burly guard with the cigarettes (Nikoli) was first mentioned way back in an extended flashback/dream in Chapter 49: Light in Shadow.
- Fun Fact: I actually wrote the first draft of this section prior to Chapter 82 with Shuri, Yama, and Nomble, but I thought their early hijinks in Aniana set the tone nicely for a city that isn't necessarily antagonistic, but it's not safe and comfy either. I also wanted to set up the contrast that the city is large enough you can hopefully get the sense that there are different areas.
- How Barnes Perceives Time - I thought it was interesting to think that even during his time with HYDRA, the passage of time must've been very confusing with all those wipes.
- Testing the Obedience of the Soldier - This is one of those things that just… it hurts to imagine what was done to this poor man over the years. :/
- Barnes and Sam Banter - I love writing their banter so much, even when they are both stressed out and anxious as all hell.
- Roleplaying the Winter Soldier - I enjoyed playing with the idea that both Ayo and Sam know the last time Bucky roleplayed The Winter Soldier was at Zemo's behest, but at least this time, it was Barnes's idea…? :| Still, it's rough stuff.
- Chapter Title Origins - Light Echoes - The title of this chapter originates from the term "Light Echo." A light echo is a physical phenomenon caused by light reflected off surfaces distant from the source, and arriving at the observer with a delay relative to this distance. The phenomenon is analogous to an echo of sound, but due to the much faster speed of light, it mostly only manifests itself over astronomical distances. In context to the story, this felt especially fitting not only because Barnes is using his senses to try and piece together fragments of his past, but because there is a delay from when those events originally took place.
Say hi and connect with me on social media:
- "KLeCrone" on Twitter and Tumblr
Into the weeds we go! As always, I love hearing from you, and if you ever notice any typos or anything that need adjusting, you're more than welcome to let me know! I try to make things as polished as possible, but sometimes things slip through the cracks. Likewise if anyone out there is interested in being a Beta-reader for any of this story (the existing chapter or upcoming ones), certainly let me know!
Regardless, thank you again for your continued readership and support!