I hope all of you are having a great week! I wanted to share an update with you since time has flown by and we've reached the two year anniversary of "Winter of the White Wolf!" Thank you again for all your support for this passion project.
Alongside this chapter and bonus update, I've included a watercolor painting I did of Barnes (or "Grumpy Bucky," if you prefer).
Please check out this chapter on Archive of Our Own to see the painting!
Simply search for: "KLeCrone Ao3 Winter of the White Wolf"
Winter of the White Wolf
Chapter 84 - Visible Light
Summary:
In the wake of a distressing session of playing pretend, Barnes does some midnight shopping while Sam and Ayo keep watch from outside…
Sam felt a whole host of complicated ways about Barnes goin' shopping by himself so soon after… well… whatever that'd been. Trying to decode exactly how the other man was doin' under the surface was mostly a losing battle, but Sam read him as more rattled and frustrated with himself and less verging, well… on the genuinely worrying sort of stuff that should rightfully give any of 'em pause.
No, Barnes seemed stable so much as 'stable' went for him, he was just still processing whatever bag of awful his brain had traded him for navigation info like some sorta cursed Garmin. Sam was bettin' it was a raw damn deal, and the sort of thing Barnes was liable to keep to himself or perhaps hint at later, after he'd had suitable time to decompress.
Whichever it was, Sam wasn't about to force him to broach the details. He just hoped Barnes was handlin' it okay and could take a load off after they met up with the others and were back at that safehouse Ayo'd told them about.
Who knows? Maybe he'd be willing to offer some clarification about what he'd implied about the Widows. Sam was chompin' at the bit on that one, but he could be patient about that too.
Wasn't like it could bring back the dead.
But that being as it was, Ayo hadn't seen fit to raise any objections to him doin' a little retail therapy at that worn down corner convenience store across from 'em. She simply pressed a few local bills into his palm along with instructions to get them some snacks while he was at it. In response, Barnes had just nodded once in that quick affirmative of his, the one that had a way of being haunted around the edges, corrupted by memories that Sam knew included being pushed and ordered around, and prolly a lot worse.
So as Barnes shopped, Ayo and Sam kept watch from outside while they listened in to the other man's comms channel for signs of anything worrying. So far, so good. He hadn't made so much as a peep while he proceeded to walk a slow once-over on each crowded aisle.
It was Ayo that spoke first after discreetly muting their exterior microphones, "He'll be alright. He's not a stranger to such purchasing practices."
Sam let out a sigh he felt like he'd been holding for the better part of a half hour as he observed an older couple cross the street and enter the store. He wanted to believe Barnes wasn't dangerous, wasn't liable to snap, but his anxious mind had a way of playing back murderous possibilities just because sometimes it was an asshole like that, "Yeah I know. I was with him at an outdoor market earlier today with Okoye and Yama. 'Lot more people there." He lowered his voice further. He had reasonable faith in those audio dampening fields Shuri'd showed him, but it still didn't hurt to be on the safe side, "Look, I know he's liable to attract less attention than the two of us, especially on account of his fluency with the local languages, but it doesn't strike you as odd that his coping mechanism after that was a little convenience store shopping?"
Sam's read on Ayo beside him was that she remained on her guard in that fierce and ever-focused way of hers, but she wasn't treadin' on the edge of her comfort zone, "I think he was not entrusted to visit such locations when he was forced to submit to another's leash. So perhaps there is relief to be found in them, knowing these places are unlikely to spark recollections from such dire periods. Instead, they might only connect to memories where he was allowed the freedom of choice."
He chewed on that as he leaned to one side and crossed his arms, tracking the jacketed cyborg while he systematically worked his way through the crowded aisles inside with all the urgency of a lazy bull in a china shop. "...And you think he's okay?"
The simple question briefly earned him Ayo's full attention and a twitch of her lips, but her focus quickly returned to Barnes inside, "I find that is far too simple a question for the times we live in, but I think he is… managing."
Sam snorted lightly, "That's one way of putting it."
A full traffic light cycle went through before Ayo thought to add, "I know it is premature to try and read the tea leaves in a cup that has yet to be poured, but I hope we find answers to the questions we seek. To the ones that haunt him. And that time does not run out before then. I wish to take him at his word that he will return when it is asked of him, but when time grows short… I have seen wizened people make brash decisions when they feel their back is suddenly to a wall."
Sam knew what she was diggin' at, and he shared a fraction of those quiet concerns, but he didn't see her follow-up question coming, "And how are you faring?"
"Me?"
She inclined her bald head once in a faint nod. Something about the way she did it made him realize she wasn't askin' because she was a fan of makin' polite conversation like folks are prone to do about the weather, but because she genuinely wanted to check-in with him now that it was just the two of 'em playin' chaperones from afar.
He blew air out his lips and slowly shook his head, "It's been a lot. Today especially. Goes without saying that I didn't enjoy that sorta roleplaying one bit and I'm hopin' there's not more'a where that came from. Mostly for his sake." Madripoor had been a bad look on the both of them, but this here? This was worse in some very specific ways, up to and including that hauntingly blank expression he'd seen fall over Barnes's face midway through. That'd be replaying in a loop in Sam's head long after they were off the streets.
While Barnes seen fit to suggest he try to imagine it as some sort of hostage exercise of the armed forces training variety, it wasn't like that covered their bases. There were bits and pieces Sam could insert from those experiences, but mostly? He'd found himself struggling to try and put himself in that alleyway, marching a blindfolded version of his Partner from point-to-point, all the while wishing his anxious mind would stop addling him with useless questions like 'Did he have those goggles and that stupid muzzle on at the time?' coupled with a side of 'What'd those vile assholes ask him to do this time?'
And leadin' him around by the arm like that wasn't a big deal. It wasn't like Sam deserved accolades and butt pats for doing the bare minimum and tryin'ta help. It was just… it was the little things that bothered him. How he could tell the subtle changes in Barnes's breathing as he fell into step.
How as his grip tightened, the man he was holdin' seemed to shrink into himself and grow more distant. More obedient. And that there wasn't credit to some superior acting ability on Barnes's part.
It'd been real.
And Sam hated it.
And clear as anything, Sam could remember when Barnes'd suddenly gone tense as a board. It might've been just a play of the amber-inted streetlight, but it was like he could see the color drain straight outta his face in real time. In the moment, Sam'd worried if somethin' was shiftin' under the surface. Somethin' dark and worrisome. That'd been why he'd found it necessary to call for Barnes's attention and snap him out of things, even though for a fraction of a second, he honestly wasn't sure exactly who'd be turning towards him in the wake of things.
And that scared him.
"I… take it you saw it too? When I was leading him?" Sam still wasn't sure where exactly that delicate line was in what was deemed acceptable conversation for the outdoors, and what was better left to privacy, but he hoped he was hittin' that midpoint of being direct enough that she'd know what he was diggin' at, while being vague enough for their present circumstances out in public.
"I did," the woman beside him admitted, "It was… distressing. He appeared wholly compliant at first, but when he suddenly stopped responding to your intended coaxing…" she faded off, frowning.
"Yeah, I saw you make sure you had your hand over the joy buzzer, just in case. Glad we haven't had to use that little contingency but… gah this whole thing is one Hell of a mess."
"Of that we are in firm agreement."
He kept a watchful eye on the cyborg exercising retail therapy a short distance away. He knew Barnes wasn't tryin' 'ta troll him by walking behind some of the faded posters lining the glass windows, but those moments when he briefly disappeared from view had a way of raising Sam's blood pressure more than he wanted to readily admit.
Barnes hadn't said so much as a word since he'd entered the shop, but apparently he'd completed his initial scouting pass and had transitioned into the phase where he was seeing just how much he could stack in those gloved hands before he stubbornly resigned himself to the wisdom of a hand basket.
The sight of the wobbling tower of colorful product boxes, bags, and bottles, had an odd way of remindin' him of how Buck sometimes did the same. Sure, he could lift more'n the average Joe, but it didn't make it look any less ridiculous when he committed himself to an armful of assorted groceries that definitely exceeded the upper-limit of the '15 Items or Less' quick check-out line.
With a sigh that might'a held a whiff of quiet melancholy, Sam addressed the woman standin' beside him, who he suspected was percolating in her own private cross-comparisons, "How 'bout you?" She cocked her head as he added, "How're you holdin' up?"
That steadfast Dora's neutral of hers faltered for a heartbeat, briefly replaced by what Sam took for mild surprise at having a candid question like that directed at her, of all people. At Ayo, Chief of Security of Wakanda, and second in command of the esteemed Dora Milaje.
But he did what he could to see through the weight of those titles and responsibilities to the woman behind 'em. Someone who was not only an ally in all this madness, but someone who'd become an unexpected friend in the trenches too.
For a second, he thought she might be planning to dodge the root of his question altogether, but instead she offered him a surprisingly honest reply, "The last few days have been… challenging. I find myself trying not to think too far ahead to a future we cannot know, while also being tasked and responsible to do just that. To hope for the best, and yet prepare for the worst."
Sam didn't need to go pickin' about the details. He knew well-enough what she was getting at, and the grim reality that he had only a few more days left until that brain of his started to unravel again. Between now and then, Shuri and the medical staff'd deemed Barnes 'stable,' but that didn't mean things couldn't still go all sorts of sideways.
And well… if things went sideways — the really, really dire sort of 'sideways' — then it fell to Ayo to ensure Barnes didn't hurt anyone again, because Sam'd clearly shown in that fight in the Propulsion Lab that he couldn't stomach the sorta things that might be necessary if it came down to it.
…So yeah, Sam playing make-believe that he was a HYDRA agent escorting the Winter Soldier hadn't been a bucket of fun, but if he were being honest with himself? He wasn't anywhere near the point where he was capable of running the numbers on the many grim realities Ayo was wrestling with. He didn't envy it, that was for damn sure.
He wasn't sure what prompted her to speak, but she softly confided, "When you and Yama were sleeping the other night, he wished to ensure this dire responsibility did not go unsaid. He placed it in my hands after insisting he'd made peace with the possibility."
"Wait he did? Barnes?"
Ayo nodded once, admitting to the chilled air, "He made it clear he does not wish to hurt anyone like that again. And I promised him I would not let it happen."
She said the words with conviction of purpose, but there was sadness tucked tightly around the corners too. The sort of sadness you can't just waft away with a few optimistic pleasantries. Ayo hadn't said what she did out loud because she was seeking out reassurances that the kinda thing they were talking around wouldn't be necessary. She was sayin' it because it might be, and she was grapplin' with the painful, deadly reality of the situation they were all smack-dab in the middle of.
Part of him was a hair frustrated that Barnes'd thought to make such a pact when Sam was off sleeping, but the more he rolled it over, the more fitting it seemed. Barnes couldn't know it — couldn't remember it — but if Sam hadn't been willing to put down someone like Karli Morgenthau, he knew himself well enough to know he wouldn't be able to level his sights on one James 'Bucky' Buchanan Barnes.
The truth was? Sam had an inkling that at some point, Buck might'a asked Ayo for similar reassurances, but he hadn't had any clue Barnes had apparently broached the topic with her. And he believed Ayo. He knew she wasn't the type to go and make something like that up, but it tore at Sam's insides to imagine Barnes relegated to the terrible possibility that a thing like that might be necessary, if not altogether advisable if somethin' in his mind snapped again.
And Ayo…?
She was holdin' it together, doin' what she needed to to lead this mission of theirs and try to wrangle up some answers to some profoundly uneasy questions along the way. All the while, she'd be keepin' a pulse on Shuri's safety and those around her, but she was also jugglin' the awful reality that she was not only tasked to ensure Barnes stayed in line, but she'd apparently signed a clause in their binding agreement that she clearly hoped would never come to pass.
And Sam just didn't know what to say to that. To that tricky blend of conviction, honor, responsibility, and palpable pain of being sworn to do the unthinkable to someone she clearly only ever wanted to see made whole, even after the lingering — and very much valid — frustrations she'd had surrounding some of Buck's more recent tresspasses.
They didn't make a greeting card that began to convey how much he respected her and empathized with the awful situation she was in and the weight riding silently on her shoulders. That as much as he hoped there was still a bright future ahead of 'em, the limbo of not knowing what awaited them was killin' him inside too.
There was power in pep-talks, sure, but in that quiet moment as they stood on the street next to one another, Sam found he didn't have the right combination of words to offer up. Instead he threw his perceptions of protocol to the wind and lightly reached over to squeeze Ayo's arm just above her elbow. To let her know he was there. That he was feelin' what she was too, and trusted her to make the tough calls he couldn't.
She didn't say anything. Didn't even glance his way with what might'a been a pair of slightly misty brown eyes. She just slowly lifted her far hand and rested it atop his, tapping it twice and holding it there. The gesture had a way of acknowledging the rubric of shared sentiment for what it was: fear and hope for the days ahead in equal measure, but also an unspoken resolve that they would weather the trials together alongside this found 'Pack' of theirs.
Sam did his best to keep his lingering anxiety in check as he watched the older couple exit the corner grocer and mimed patience while he waited for Barnes. The man had begrudgingly relinquished his ongoing attempts at piling a variety of packaged goods into the crook of his elbow when the elder woman had all-but thrust a weathered hand basket into his free hand.
Just how much was he picking-up inside, anyway?
Sam had just glanced down at his watch when Barnes's voice suddenly jutted through their shared comms, followed by that artificially-shipper translator Shuri'd toggled on for them, "Yeah, that's everything."
He looked up to see the shopper extraordinaire standing at the checkout while he paid for the heap of mismatched goods he'd managed to gather up like it might be his one and only opportunity to do some impulse shopping.
Sam could just make out the voice of the cashier on the other end, "Ah, stocking up?"
"Something like that."
The transaction went smoothly and Barnes passed cash across the counter and collected his change and two large plastic bags of assorted goods to the tune of 'Thanks' before remerging through the squeaky shop doors none-the-worse for wear.
He wore that private brooding expression he'd all-but trademarked as he waited for the light signal before crossing the street and stepping over to rejoin Sam and Ayo from their defacto lookout point. Without a word of explanation, Barnes passed Sam a plastic bag full to the brim with what looked to be some juice, energy drinks, and some chocolate-coated snacks that might'a privately spoken to Sam's sweet tooth, "They didn't have the brand you like."
"The brand of what?"
"Orange juice."
Sam raised an eyebrow, prompting Barnes to quickly clarify, "...Like you had in your apartment."
Then he got it. Orange juice, like he used to keep stocked in his fridge in D.C. before one ex-Winter Soldier apparently saw fit to sneak into his pad and help himself to his perishables and sacred leftovers.
Still, it was almost sweet that Barnes'd put some decided thought into his beverage and snack preferences when he was off shopping. By the looks of it, he'd apparently gotten some this-and-that for Ayo and the others, but Barnes kept his own bag clutched tightly in one hand while he used the other to fish his phone out of his back pocket, prompting Sam to make conversation, "Everything go okay in there?"
"Yeah."
"You did a lotta shoppin'."
"If that's a complaint, there's probably still time to return the chocolates, you know."
Sam pulled the bag he was inspecting close to his chest, miming that he was protecting it from Barnes's idle threats, "No take backs. And I'm glad it went okay." He lifted his chin towards the phone in Barnes's hand, "You got the route pulled up?"
It was obvious Barnes's thoughts were elsewhere as the gloved cyborg politely directed his next question squarely to Ayo, "...Do you think we could track back this way? Cut across? It's not as direct but—"
Ayo looked from the display up to Barnes's face in an attempt to cut to the chase, "Why this route?" Her tone reminded Sam straightaway of one-too-many suspicious grade school teachers.
Barnes kept his voice low as he clued them into what must'a doubled for his particular brand of late-night scheming, "The man the police hassled earlier. It sounds like they direct him a few streets over. I wanted to give him a few things, if that's alright."
…So there could'a been a whole list of things Barnes might'a whispered at that juncture, but Sam hadn't a clue that he was ramping up to — of all things — do a donation run on the way back to their agreed upon meet-up spot. It caught him completely off guard, especially considering everything else goin' on.
If Ayo was the least bit surprised, she didn't let it show, "It would not be an inconvenience so long as the way is clear."
Barnes readily nodded once in a quick affirmative and pulled up a secondary overlay on his phone, confirming that the route he'd suggested was clear of the police patrols they were steering clear of as a courtesy. He showed it to Ayo, and once satisfied, she made a sweeping gesture with her hand, prompting him to lead the way into the night without another word.
The three of them fell back into an easy silence as they walked along the dimly-lit street. While a scattered few residents were still out and about, they graciously kept to themselves and didn't particularly strike Sam as the sort of individuals they needed to be wary of.
Though — he was quick to remind himself — that didn't mean he should prematurely let his guard down.
That being as it was, Sam found himself wondering how it was that with all that had happened today, that this here was what Barnes'd been scheming when he'd first inquired about goin' for a midnight shopping spree?
The other man didn't make a big deal about it as they walked, he just kept that hand of his clutched tight around the handles of a thin beige plastic bag with an emblem of a rearing lion and a swatch of ornamental red text Sam clearly couldn't read. After they turned a few more corners, sure enough: Sam caught sight of the homeless man they'd seen earlier. The one the officer had coaxed to relocate to what he must've deemed a more aesthetically desirable location within the dreary capital city.
He sat bundled up underneath a ramshackle overhanging with his back against a stucco wall. He'd draped in a tarp-lined blanket that had seen better days over his legs in what Sam took for an attempt to make himself as unobtrusive as possible, like he was hoping if he could just find a way to blend in with the scenery, then he might be spared from being asked to gather up and move his patchwork of cherished belongings yet again.
The bearded man glanced their way with wary eyes that took quick inventory of the three of 'em, running his odds on if they were more likely to hassle him like the cop had, or if they might be inclined to ignore him outright like so many other folks often did.
Sam'd fallen into step a beat behind Barnes and was preparing to walk over with him until he felt Ayo gently put her hand out to still him. He caught her meaning immediately and came to a stop beside her. Barnes briefly turned his head when he realized he was no longer being followed, but caught their drift, and opted to cross the last half block on his own.
He came to a slow stop a short distance away from the homeless man and crouched down, doin' what he could to look small and not crowd the other man. It was tricky to accurately assess his age due to the dim lighting, but he had an unkempt salt and pepper beard and matching strands of scraggly long hair that slipped out from beneath a stained knitted cap that was no-doubt brighter in another life. To his best guess? He was just a few years older than he was.
Which made him roughly half Barnes's age, give or take a decade.
Initially, Sam couldn't understand what Barnes was saying in what was probably Symkarian until the translator in their shared comms kicked in, but he could recognize the timbre of his words. How they were intentionally calm and low-key, like he was addressing a scared stray, "Hey. It's a chilly night out here. I thought maybe you could use some things I picked-up from the corner store. They're all new and sealed."
The man turned his direction and eyed him warily. His voice was rough with tension, "What's it to you?"
Barnes gently put the bag down and showed him both of his hands in what Sam took for a sign to indicate he wasn't armed and didn't have any tricks up his sleeve, "No strings. I can show you what I got. You can take whatever you want."
When the man didn't see fit to object, Barnes gestured to the bag and slowly separated the handles, revealing the pile of goods crammed inside. One-by-one, he lifted the contents for him to see. There were foods like bags of trail mix, granola bars, bottled water, and jerky, but he'd also collected some personal hygiene items too, including what looked to be a small first-aid pack, a folding comb, nail trimmer, toothbrush and toothpaste, deodorant, some bundles of socks, and a pair of thick woolen gloves. The final set of items he lifted out of the bag and showcased were a number of small round cans. Sam didn't grasp the significance of 'em at first, not until a tiny little tabby with bright green eyes and a clipped ear popped out from the sea of blankets on the man's lap.
He brightened at the sight, and although he remained tucked tightly into the shadows, he used one hand to eagerly beckon Barnes closer while the other gently stroked at all the best spots around the feline's mismatched ears. Barnes didn't say a word as he gathered everything back into the bag and crossed the distance between 'em, stopping just a few feet away to pass the whole plastic-lined care package to him. The grizzled man eagerly accepted the gift and immediately began rummaging through the bag's contents for a closer look. Neither of them said a word while he inspected each item for flaws, and it was right around then that Sam realized that the unsaid parts of this exchange here went a very particular step beyond any of his own life's experiences.
Sam was no stranger to social work, and over the years, he and his family had helped out in soup kitchens and all manner of flood-relief teardown, cleanup, and repairs. He'd lent a hand abroad and volunteered in local communities and outreach programs, but at the same time, he knew he hadn't walked in some of their shoes and the hard lives they'd led. He had heapings of empathy for 'em, certainly, but it wasn't one in the same.
He'd never been homeless. Never gone hungry. Never been forced to make due on streets that didn't want him, that preferred him to be some other city's problem.
But Barnes had.
He recognized the man's struggles because he'd been there too, even if he wasn't verbalizing the particulars with the man sittin' across from him.
And he knew better'n most folks that homelessness — especially after the Blip — wasn't an easy solve, but he recognized the value of kindness too. Of feeling seen and viewed as a livin' greathin' person rather than just a blemish on the side of someone else's street.
"Is there anything else you need?" Barnes inquired, watching the tabby arch and lean her body against the man in revenant insistence to finish opening the lid on the can of tuna fish.
The man pet her fondly as he tilted the can upside down and tapped it so the bites of fish filled a small chipped ceramic dish, "No no, this is enough already. Minae and I thank you."
Not to be deterred from her meal, the cat immediately hopped down and began taking polite bites of minced fish. After a few satisfied mouthfuls, her interest turned to Barnes, and she wasted no time in curiously sniffing at his hands.
For his part, Barnes made no outright attempts to pet the small tabby cat, but what Sam read as feigned disinterest only had a way of emboldening the feline further. In short order, she concluded her investigation of the newcomer and started leisurely threading herself against him while her owner tucked his new belongings out of sight under his tarp and took a long drink from a bottle of water.
"Will you be okay for the night?" Barnes inquired, finally giving into the insistent feline's advances by using his thumb to scratch under her chin. If she knew it was polished vibranium under the leather of his gloves, she didn't see fit to raise an objection, "The police aren't taking anyone, are they? Arresting them?"
"I'll be alright. And no, the police just like to prod us. Keep us moving like discarded animals. They don't know where they want us since the shelters are overwhelmed. Can't make up their minds. What's okay one night is forbidden the next. They can't even keep it straight between themselves."
Barnes frowned and nodded once as he started to lift himself to his feet. But just before he could stand up, the man reached out a trembling hand and gently grasped it around Barnes forearm. For half a second, Sam worried Barnes might pull away from the unplanned physical contact, but instead he stayed right where he was and locked eyes with the bearded man across from him.
Sam didn't need a translator for the words that came next. They were soft, private, and resplendent with aching sincerity, "Thank you." Without another word, the homeless man released Barnes's arm and used both of his hands to wrangle the tabby back to the safety of his lap.
Barnes didn't say anything out loud, but as he rose to his feet, Sam couldn't help but think how the simple interaction had a way of humanizing him and the wealth of unspoken life experiences he kept tucked away, just like Buck'd done.
Maybe that wasn't a fair comparison, though. Because the more that Sam thought about it, the more he realized that while Barnes wasn't sayin' the quiet parts out loud, each slow movement of his body had a way of shining a little more light on the gambit he'd gone through, and moreover: the sort of person that'd come out the other side.
Simple gestures like this made all the difference in the world to the lives they touched. When Sam was hardly taller than his pa's knee, he first learned about givin' back to the community from watching his parents and the folks around him lend a hand after a particularly brutal hurricane had come through his neck of the woods. In the wake of it, it always struck him how they gave more'n they took.
But Barnes here? He'd gotten the short end of any number of sticks, and even though he didn't have a gentle hand guidin' him after he'd escaped from HYDRA's vile clutches, he clearly knew the nuts and bolts of how to pay it forward. How to be better'n them. Maybe it was because he'd been on the receiving end of kindness a time or two, or maybe he just felt compelled to do right by someone else in ways that people hadn't done to him.
Whatever it was, it was abundantly clear to Sam that it wasn't for show. Wasn't a drop to do with him or Ayo standing watch nearby. And more'n that: Sam would'a bet it wasn't anything close to his first time doin' somethin' like this either.
He remembered Barnes or Buck sayin' somethin' about how he'd taken credit cards off the goons HYDRA'd once sent after 'im. Sam wasn't sure exactly what he imagined him buyin' with those pieces of illicit plastic, but now he had a few more ideas where that came from.
And all'a that just… it stuck with Sam. The image of Barnes ducked down exchanging a few pockets of words with a stranger he didn't know but was compelled to do right by because he could, and that same stranger seein' him as anything other than the Winter Soldier.
From a step beside him, Ayo muted their microphones as she spoke quietly to Sam, "It is strange how moments like this have a way of opening windows to shine light onto a time of his life I hardly knew was there. Difficult periods he rarely made mention of."
Sam half-sighed, drinkin' from a similar well of melancholy, "Yeah. In some roundabout way, I feel I'm startin' to know 'em both better than I ever did. I'm just hopin' we don't lose him too."
He hadn't meant to confess that second part out loud, but he found he didn't regret airing that quiet fear to Ayo and the chilled night air surrounding them.
Ayo's face reshaped itself into a distant frown, but before she could respond, her eyes suddenly shot down to her left wrist and a Kimoyo Bead that began pulses with urgent shimmers of light. She used her thumb to silence the illumination, but Barnes must've caught its accompanying haptic buzz, because he instantly turned their direction, and that expression of his grew sharply focused in a way that Sam was sure didn't bode well.
Within seconds, Ayo tapped another bead, and this time Sam heard M'yra's urgent voice over their shared comms, "My Chief, Yama's Cry of Ngai Bead bead was just activated a distance away from your location."
"Yes, I just saw the ping."
"They are uninjured and unengaged, but a man appears to be in pursuit at a moderate pace. I've uploaded information on their path using the surrounding views from the few cameras along their street."
By the time Sam put all'a that together, he was only half-aware that Barnes was no longer slowly trekking his way back towards he and Ayo. Instead he'd given a quick glance to his phone and looked up to Ayo with a tense but alert expression.
Ayo's next word was nearly silent, but Sam didn't need a translator to convey it's straightforward meaning:
"Go!"
Barnes didn't waste a second. He hauled himself forward with all the intensity of a wildcat and darted down the street towards the distant location M'yra's latest intel indicated.
Ayo and Sam were right behind him, "We're on our way!"
[Chapter 84 Chapter Art, by KLeCrone]
[ID: A watercolor painting by KLeCrone showing a portrait of Barnes or 'Grumpy Bucky.' He is wearing a grey shirt, blue jacket and is looking to the right. He has short brown hair and stubble over his face. He looks very discontent. End ID]
A couple weeks ago I was thinking of Barnes and sat down to do a single-sitting watercolor and gouache painting of Barnes, or "Grumpy Bucky" if you prefer. In the end, it felt like it fit in nicely with the prevalent mood of these last two chapters so I wanted to share it. I hope you enjoy it too! It's been a lot of fun trying to carve out room to do personal art alongside my other obligations!
While I can make no promises, if there are ever scenes you would particularly like to see illustrated, definitely let me know!
Author's Remarks:
It's wild to me that this marks the two-year anniversary of this story! Thank you so much for joining me on these (mis-)adventures. I certainly never expected for this story to get quite this long, but I appreciate the support in seeing this massive project through! There's a lot of juicy plot threads we are smack-dab in the middle of about now!
Did any of you guess why Barnes wanted to go into the corner store?
- Sam and Ayo Heart-to-Heart - One of the nice things about having moments where it's just a couple characters in a scene is you can have some opportunities for more candid conversations. I appreciated being able to tap into that here, because all of this going on with Barnes isn't easy on the people around him either, even if they are doing what they can to stay strong, hope for the best, and put on firm facades.
- Helping the Homeless - This scene was planned early on when I was originally outlining this story. I wanted to not only show Barnes's empathy, but how he can relate to people on the streets since he's legitimately been there too. And I hope it says something about him that in the wake of having what I'm sure was a really uncomfortable flashback to a bygone era under HYDRA, rather than letting his thoughts fester into a vortex of self-pity, he instead saw an opportunity to help someone else because he was empowered to do just that. And while there are still larger mysteries that need to be solved, he knows small things like that matter too and mean the world to others who are ailing.
- Chapter Title Origins - Visible Light - The title of this chapter originates from the idea of some wavelengths of light being visible to the naked eye, while other parts of the spectrum are not. In context to the story, this felt especially fitting since I was thinking of how some of the struggles characters in this story (and even we as individuals) face are invisible to others unless we've had similar experiences we can relate to and "see." It also doubles as the idea of 'invisible people' like the standing homelessness issue
Say hi and connect with me on social media:
- "KLeCrone" on Twitter and Tumblr
Thank you again for all of your readership and support. I deeply appreciate each and every kudo, comment, and kind word, as they help keep me inspired to keep this story moving ever-forward. All of you have been a bright spot amid what has been an increasingly challenging year for me, and just, from the bottom of my heart… thank you.