Winter of the White Wolf: Post S1 of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier

by KLeCrone

While Bucky would prefer to believe that his time as the Winter Soldier is long behind him, strange dreams and the shadows of missing memories prompt him to explore where the Winter Soldier ends and the White Wolf begins... This story dives into the bonds of friendship, the aftermath of betrayal, and includes a lively mix of banter, action, angst, and globe-trotting adventure.

93. Feral Echoes

Life has tossed me a series of hurdles lately, often leaving me creatively drained after my work day ends, but it continues to be such a welcome experience to dive back into this story as events unfold with this vibrant cast of characters. I'm so deeply appreciative to have all of you along for the ride.

The original contents of this chapter exceeded 20k words before I realized it would be far easier to digest if it were divided into two separate chapters. As such, I hope you enjoy this satisfying chunk of story knowing that I'm hoping to have the next chapter out sooner rather than later. :)

In addition, I also worked on a new illustration to accompany this chapter! The full illustration and further links and information can be found below the prose for this chapter.

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

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

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Winter of the White Wolf

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Chapter 93 - Feral Echoes

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Summary:

After an exceptionally long day spanning trials across multiple continents, Barnes, Sam, and the Wakandans take shifts to catch up on sleep within a Wakandan safehouse while those that are awake continue to search for answers in the wake of troubling news…

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Sam had better evenings.

Had worse too.

Matters half this complex left him yearning to negotiate those trials and tribulations in private. Out back where he could steep his worries away from pryin' eyes that might'a preferred he put on a brave face, and pour whatever he was feelin' into some battered tupperware to reheat at a later time.

Even though his heart wasn't feelin' up to the task, he channeled what strength he had in reserve to summon up some stubborn scrap of courage for the man sittin' next to him on the hardwood floor. Not because Barnes couldn't see through the facade, but because he deserved to see someone upholding a flame of hope that this twisted situation might still turn out okay, even if their cards were down and out at the moment.

'Bout thirty minutes had passed since Ayo and Nomble had retreated to their bedrooms, leavin' the rest of 'em marinating in the front room and kitchen floor of the safehouse. A day that'd begun with another stunning sunrise over an idyllic Wakandan mountaintop had faded into a brooding city that was doin' its damndest to be as unwelcoming as possible to a handful of folks burdened with the best of intentions.

Sam didn't have to consciously try and stack rank who'd pulled the worst card since they'd landed in Aniana, because it was clear that the bitter award had already been handed off to the defeated man sittin' next to him on the floor, who was presently doin' whatever he could to keep his mind occupied on the fraction of things he could control. Now Barnes didn't have much in the way of facial expressions at the best of times, but what little there was had slowly been eaten up and replaced by what could only be described as a wash of painful defeat.

Much as Sam and everyone around them had gone through great lengths to insist that there was still hope and that cracked hourglass inside Barnes's fractured mind hadn't run dry of sand just yet, it was obvious as anything that he wasn't clingin' tight to the promise of optimism. But then, who could blame him? It was like one thing after another after another just kept nippin' at his heels, threatenin' to pull him under.

Sam's frown deepened as he caught Barnes fidgeting his fingers together as he re-read the latest journal entry he'd penned down. While Sam wasn't tryin' to sneak a peek at the text itself — he had far too much respect for Barnes to consider readin' over his shoulder uninvited — it was impossible to miss Barnes's palpable frustration with himself at not being able to articulate everything that was no doubt pinballing around that cyborg brain of his. Sam only wished he could do more help besides DJing a cherry-picked list of music selections to stave off the pervasive silence.

Even though Shuri insisted that the music wouldn't disturb anyone sleeping nearby on account of the high tech Wakandan audio dampening fields shielding the unit apartment, Sam felt it prudent to finetune the level of each song to ensure they counterbalanced his own creeping anxieties. While Sam's initial offer to DJ began as a feeble attempt to push back against the heavy silence and provide some unspoken flavor of emotional support to the souls occupying it, it'd become much more'n that. He wasn't content to simply hit shuffle and sit back and let the dice roll the next track. Instead, he found himself catering the playlist with painstaking intention.

He was well aware — as were Yama and Shuri nearby him — that his selections intentionally favored tracks from the 40's that Bucky particularly enjoyed. While Sam was long-past the days where he quietly clung to the possibility that the inherent magic of a melody might chance to 'awaken' Bucky, he spared a moment to reflect on why he'd chosen to angle the current playlist to an era he'd only ever read about in history books. When he searched his soul, what he found himself sitting with was the quiet hope that even if the interplay of instruments and swooning voices wasn't intrinsically familiar to Barnes, that something resonant in the air might find a way to provide an unspoken comfort during this immeasurably stressful and uncertain time.

As if reading some fraction of his sheltered thoughts, Yama looked up from where she sat cross legged and alert on the far side of the orange energy dome separating Sam and Barnes from the rest of the room. Or more specifically: the Wakandan princess perched on the couch across the living room from 'em.

The core tenets of the setup combined with the interplay of the dappled orange light falling over his skin had a way of reminding Sam of the ambiance up on the mountain, granted it was presently a deal less peaceful than it'd been back there at the best of times. Funny, that. He still wasn't sure if I'd been the right move for them to fly out all this way in the hope of some drummin' up a remnant of closure, but he suspected they'd be heading back to Wakanda in the morning regardless.

Yama hadn't said much since he'd turned on the musical accompaniment. Given the opportunity, she was skillful at navigating around heavy silences, but she'd resolved to remain focused on her guard. Sam wanted to believe it was strictly a formality, but he knew better. More specifically, he knew Yama was doin' her best to exude a calm, collected, and altogether pleasant exterior in her black and grey 'undercover' ensemble while remaining sharp and ready to intervene at a moment's notice if something gnarled inside of Barnes's brain suddenly shifted and Sam's life was put on the line again.

Granted, it was Sam's own stubborn choice to remain inside the protective orange dome with Barnes to begin with. It seemed the right gesture and show of support all around, but he only hoped it didn't end up bein' a bad call due to things altogether outside of either of their control.

Even after all that'd happened, he found he still trusted Barnes. Problem was, it felt a bit like befriending a ticking time bomb with a broken countdown screen. You just never knew when his number might come up.

So that's how it was. Barnes scouring his journals and makin' fresh notes in 'em. Sam DJing the music and trying to put on a brave front. Yama keepin' up with that friendly exterior while she watched every inch of 'em for cracks. And the Wakandan princess across the room tryin' to find a way to break though and make it all okay. To give Barnes a shot at a happy ending he deserved in spades.

Another crooning jazz balland came and went before Shuri breathed out a resigned sigh. The poignancy of the exhale briefly pulled Yama's attention away from monitoring Barnes, but she quickly realized the princess wasn't in any undue distress except what she was inflicting on herself. It was readily apparent that Shuri blamed herself for what had happened with Barnes's mind and the malfunctioning electrical node, and that she desperately wanted to make things right. But despite her valiant efforts to stay alert, her once emphatic pace had decelerated over the last half-hour, and it was becoming increasingly apparent that no amount of decaf espresso was able to combat the full-body exhaustion that had finally begun to set in.

She muttered something under her breath as she removed a set of thick-framed eyeglasses and sat them on the coffee table in front of her before leaning her head back on the cushions and rubbing at the corners of her eyes with both hands. The resident genius laid looking up at the ceiling for a long moment before she rolled her back upright again and turned to gaze out at the group gathered in and around the orange energy dome. When she started to speak, she ended up having to suppress a demure yawn that evolved into a decree mid-breath, "Barnes, the hour is late. You should endeavor to wrap up what you're working on so you can begin your first sleep cycle soon."

At the sound of his name, Barnes glanced up from the journal he'd been re-reading and offered Shuri a single obedient nod, but the solemn expression on his face didn't budge. It was like it was frozen in place. A mask expertly obscuring everything else that was no doubt percolating under the surface.

And Sam hated it. Hated that they were stuck in this arrangement and that Barnes was discovering all-new ways to suffer more'n one man deserved.

The recent news that Barnes potentially only had days left before his own mind started to permanently slip and skid had hit Sam like a ton of bricks. It wasn't as if Sam had been in strict denial about the possible eventuality, but he'd been able to position that particular Pandora's Box of awful far enough out into the future that it wasn't regularly staring him in the face with each and every grim prospect.

But now? Now it was something he couldn't shake. Couldn't escape. He knew the Wakandans were doing everything in their power to help, but Sam could tell they were scared too. Hell. He half-suspected they'd only been able to maintain their composure through a stunning combination of strict training and the raw desire not to upset Barnes any more'n he already was. It wouldn't do 'em a lick of good, especially when they were all trying to cling to the hope that they'd find a solution that would ultimately preserve what little he had.

And what he had was enough. It hadn't seemed that way at first, sure, and the rollercoaster-slash-kidnapping ride they'd started out with certainly hadn't helped first impressions any, but it was deeper'n that. The more time he spent around Barnes, the more certain he felt that somber man sittin' next to him could build a life for himself if he had half a chance, regardless of if he ever remembered the other chunks of the lives he'd lived and left behind.

Sam just hoped he'd get the chance.

He strained to mold the breath of air he'd been holding into a sigh that wasn't explicitly saturated with defeat before turning his attention back to Barnes and those scared blue eyes of his. Sam knew it wasn't remotely productive to let his mind slip back into the differences and overlaps between Barnes and the 'Buck' he'd proclaimed to be his partner, but it was a special sort of torture not being able to reach the other man to hear a penny of his thoughts on what was to come. On anything he wanted to do or see in the time he had left.

Then again, looking at Barnes hunched over on the floor as he poured every ounce of energy he had into trying to recapture his inked chronology, it made Sam wonder if between the two of the men he'd known with the same face, if maybe Barnes himself had an even better idea of all there was to lose.

What a poetic mess.

Sam wasn't sure if Barnes had even said a word in passing over the last half hour, but he'd kept himself busy rotating between writing in three journals, thumbing through old entries, and occasionally coming up for air to read a few more pages from the book with the dragon on the cover that Nomble gifted him. The other souls in the room had resolved to let him be, absolving themselves from the pressure to engage him with any of the lingering questions they had. It was obvious he was still shaken up and compelled to seek answers.

And moreover, it was obvious from his impassioned focus that he felt like he was running out of time. Which he was.

Between DJ sessions, Sam kept himself occupied by checking his phone and reading up on local and global news, occasionally distracting himself with a few doom scrolls of social media. His heart wasn't in any of it, and he doubted he absorbed more than a headline or two, but it kept his mind off the heavier stuff.

Like how Sarah and his nephews were gonna take the news.

With all that was going on, he knew it wasn't a good idea to reach out to her in case their communications were intercepted, but he hated not being able to give her updates on what was going on over on this side of the Atlantic. He didn't want to think about it, but he couldn't escape the increasingly grim future where he might be coming back to Delacroix alone.

Sam did what he could to swiftly push the thought away as Shuri stretched her back and shut off her remaining holographic displays before rising to her feet. She frowned at the offending electrical node on the coffee table before crossing towards them empty handed. The princess stopped just outside the edge of the undulating orange energy dome and briefly glanced down at the hardwood, as if deliberating the merit of joining the three of them on the floor. Instead, she opted to remain standing. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to finish repairing the electrical node tonight. I hope to do so in the morning when we can discuss our other precautions," she raised her chin, indicating the energy shield between them. "I believe I've been able to diagnose the root cause of what caused the failure, but I want to review my findings with fresh eyes to ensure I haven't overlooked anything."

Sam debated the merit of the latest question weighin' on his tongue, but he figured it couldn't hurt to give it air. "I take it you let the folks back in the Design Center know what happened with it?"

A flicker of hesitation passed over the princess's normally well-composed face. "In a manner of speaking. I've conveyed the most important facts to help afford them a better understanding of the data they are reviewing, but I have not provided an entirely complete picture of our private activities, as particularly those surrounding Symkaria are not matters of their concern."

He raised an eyebrow as Yama thoughtfully inquired, "Similar to how you intend M'yra's focus to not be split on questions strictly outside of her expertise?"

"Similar," Shuri conceded, addressing Yama with empathetic candor. "I try even now to respect and maintain what manners of privacy I can."

Yama dipped her head at the admission, but Sam didn't miss the subtext. He didn't doubt Shuri was doing her best to juggle Bucky's standing preference for privacy against the conflicting priorities and painfully tight timelines just around the corner. The whole situation put her in a hell of a tough spot that he didn't envy one drop.

"They know the electrical node that was placed as a contingency grievously malfunctioned and I've shared my diagnosis of what I believe to be the root cause of its misbehavior," Shuri specified. "Such details are important factors to evaluating the cascade of atypical readings that occurred in the minutes thereafter." Her attention drifted to Barnes who had chosen to look up from what he was doing to signal he was tuning into the nearby conversation. "I've shared approximate dates for the memories you've made mention of as it might help bolster their efforts, but the exact contents are not necessary to evaluate the data at the present time. I do not wish to indulge idle curiosities unless there is genuine purpose behind providing specific details."

Shuri glanced past him to the clock on the microwave along the far wall of the kitchen before more gently adding, "It would be good for you to prepare yourself for sleep while I do the same. You need rest. The pursuit of answers can wait until morning."

Barnes offered her another of those submissive nods of his as she tapped a bead along the inside of her wrist and stepped back across the room. "Griot, Set an ambient timer for ten minutes." As she walked, she pocketed the pair of glasses she'd set aside before tidying up her things like the guilty aftermath of a riotous sleepover. Sam found it oddly humanizing seeing her cart her cup and saucer over to the sink rather than relying on her entourage to clean up after her. It said a lot about her, especially since Sam got the impression she wasn't doin' it for show.

The princess made it halfway to the hallway when a weak voice trailed in her wake, "...Shuri?"

The unexpected interjection stopped her dead in her tracks and pivoted her attention directly to the artificially quiet man sitting on the floor beside Sam. Barnes hadn't done so much as open his mouth in the better part of a half-hour, and Sam could immediately tell from the way he hunched his shoulders and kept his eyes downcast that he was second-guessing if he'd overstepped protocol by speaking out of turn or addressing the princess directly.

Shuri must've sensed it too, because when she turned herself around to face them, she coaxed him out of his shell with a gentle voice stripped of any whiff of royal decorum, "What is it?"

Slowly, Barnes furrowed his brow and shifted the journal he'd been writing in off his lap and replaced it with a thicker notebook with worn edges. His face was stricken with immense concentration as he flipped through the pages, scanning the text before settling a vibranium finger along the left-hand side of a block of text. "At first I didn't recognize the correlation, but… I think I found an entry in one of the journals that might have something to do with Symkaria. One that we missed initially."

Sam could tell from Shuri's measured expression that she was cautious about taking any bait surrounding such a potentially loaded topic, but curiosity apparently got the best of her and she took two tentative steps towards the group. "Why do you say that?"

Sam lifted his chin and leaned forward just enough to follow Barnes's finger as it traced down a vertical column of cryptic symbols. Little two-sided triangles with dashes and flattened parallel lines stacked on top of one another intermingled with a variety of dots and angled markings that didn't look like any language he knew. "These markings in the margins."

"Are the symbols letters or words to your eyes?" Yama inquired, inspecting the inked lines on the yellowed paper.

"No. But I think they might be shorthand."

Sam raised an eyebrow and tossed in his lot, wondering if Barnes was being intentionally obtuse, or if it was all he had. "Shorthand for what?"

Barnes broke away from scrying the paper for clues long enough to catch Sam's eye. "I would have led with that if I knew." His tone was tightly controlled, but it was the first whiff of cyborg sass Sam had caught in the better part of two hours.

If Sam was being honest? He appreciated the familiar volley between 'em. "So what do they have to do with Symkaria?" He countered and folded his hands over his chest in what might've been the faintest countermove to keep Barnes talkin' and out of his own head.

"I was getting to that," Barnes defended with that hint of inflection in his voice that told Sam this mattered. He trailed his finger over the column of inked symbols, "There's only a handful of times that markings like these show up in the margins. Diagonals, parallel lines, dashes, triangles, and other shapes. I don't know what they mean, but when I started looking for patterns in the entries, I noticed this…" His finger stopped just below a marking that stood out from the others on account that it included a single curved stroke. Like a capital 'C' that had been rotated on its side so the curve was facing up and skewered through with a straight line. "This symbol shows up on this page and nowhere else. But then I realized I'd seen something like it before."

He slid the thick notebook off his lap and replaced it with the journal he'd been writing it in, opening it up to a page midway through where a familiar torn photocopy of a newspaper clipping had been taped into place over the lined paper. The grainy black and white clipping showed a precipiced skyline in Skymkaria where someone — presumably some flavor of him — had drawn a shadowed figure in black pen with a pelt of ink-red hair falling over and around their shoulders. But the enigmatic stickfigure wasn't what Barnes was interested in now. It was a building in the background. One with a domed roof decorated with an ornamental spike coming up from the peak.

Sam had to admit, the shape bore more than a passing resemblance to the symbol in the first notebook. "So you think that symbol might stand for that building?"

"Could be," Barnes conceded, tracing the shape with his nearest finger. "But I don't remember much about it."

Shuri picked up the loose thread. "We know the journal entry beside the newspaper clipping is from 2015, but M'yra's early research revealed that the article itself is likely from a Hungarian newspaper dating from 2001. It was published after a prominent Symkarian politician was shot and killed by an unknown assassin within a nearby government building in east Aniana."

There was a day and age Sam might've thought to make a quick quip about if Buck had a hand in this or other unsolved mysteries, but he was well past the point in finding humor in the other man's suffering, and found himself frowning at the grim tale of political unrest that wasn't far removed from what was goin' on now.

"The building with the dome was not the location where that tragedy took place," Shuri was quick to clarify, as if preempting Barnes's next question, "but this one in the left corner here, I believe. Do you remember something more about the buildings seen in the clipping now?" she gently inquired.

The hint of confusion Barnes sent Shuri's way reminded Sam that the chronology bouncing around the other man's head wasn't necessarily the same as theirs, so he helped Barnes along. "When we visited Symkaria a few days ago, you said you didn't remember the specifics. So you sayin' you 'don't remember much' this time around sounds like your cup might hold more'n it now than it did."

"I remember being here, in the city," Barnes insisted, "but most of it's disconnected."

"...But you think you remember a little, or a lot?"

Barnes scrunched his face. "It's hard to quantify. After being in the city today, more pieces are familiar, but I didn't realize they were from here. From Symkaria." He regarded the faded newspaper clipping like it was a precious clue. "I recall seeing this building from a distance — not today, but in my head — but I don't know when it might've been, how close I got, or what my objective was. Probably more of the same, but it's hard to know for sure."

Sam didn't need a cipher to extrapolate that there was a fair chance he might'a caught sight of the building in question during one of his HYDRA-sanctioned 'missions' he'd been on way back. "Do the numbers next to it mean anything to you?" He pointed towards the series of numbers written in blue pen next to the news clipping:

#2 12:24:56

Barnes regarded the numbers in earnest but eventually shook his head. "No."

"What about the entry below the clipping? That a language you know?"

Barnes frowned and obediently recited the coded words like they belonged to someone else, "Saw her again in a dream last night. Might be a memory. Inconclusive. Date unknown. It was dark out and I couldn't see her face. She shouted something at me, but when I woke up, I couldn't remember what she'd said."

Sam regarded the red haired stick figure again, wondering for not the first time if there was any way it could have been an echo of Nat from way-back-when. Who was it that Bucky — or was it Barnes — had seen? And what had she said to him? Had the person who'd transcribed it in the journal ever figured how it connected to anything else in his troubled past? Or had it just been a remnant of a fever dream about a real location?

Even people like Barnes prolly had the curse of regular 'ol nightmares too, right?

Sam compared the photo from the newspaper clipping against the entry in the first notebook with the matching dome roof symbol tucked into the margin. "I take it that this entry isn't crystalizing any missing pieces for ya?"

"No," Barnes admitted, his tone dampened with frustration. His attention drifted to Shuri, "Is there anything else you know about the building with the dome?"

Shuri regarded him for a long moment before turning her head and shoulders to look back down towards the hallway where Ayo and Nomble were fast asleep in their guestrooms. If Sam had to guess? Shuri knew something, but she was debating if it was a breadcrumb she should broach. She glanced at the time on the microwave across the room and folded her arms, regarding Barnes, "You have not yet told me of the 'Sunrise Exercise' you performed with Ayo and Sam earlier, and while I am requesting no such details, I do not want to stray a single step down that uneven path again tonight. Do you understand? I do not want you trying to cultivate a similar state that risks further distress or attempts to place your mind and body in similar positions as it once was in order to draw out unseen details when we are still trying to ensure your brain's overall stability. Am I clear?" Shuri's tone was no-nonsense.

Barnes cowered slightly from the directness of her decree, but he got the memo loud and clear. "Yeah."

Sam had altogether expected for Shuri to sidestep the topic, but instead she evaluated Barnes for cracks from where she stood. "Okay then." With that, she stepped forward and gracefully settled herself on the floor outside the orange energy dome directly beside Yama, who raised an eyebrow. Apparently Sam wasn't the only one being taken for a loop at Shuri's latest opt-in.

The princess paused a moment before sliding the tip of her finger across the crest of a Kimoyo Bead, prompting it to emit a three dimensional holographic display of miniature buildings atop her palm. "To answer your question: Yes. M'yra and I both looked into the buildings referenced in the newspaper clipping after we realized its ties to Symkaria. The one in the far back with the dome is a government building of prominent historical significance, and has been a focal point for a number of attempted occupations and coups."

Shuri flicked her wrist, prompting the blue light of the hologram to rotate clockwise. "While the underlying structures are still standing, many will not match the buildings seen in the photograph since their records are separated by over twenty years." Her tone was soft, and Sam got the impression she was intentionally abstaining from asking him any follow-up questions to avoid pressuring him for answers he didn't have.

Barnes leaned forward, focusing on the translucent projection while he scryed the shapes for clues, but eventually his stubbled jaw settled into a frown. "Nothing's jumping out at me." His voice was apologetic, clearly having hoped there was some connective tissue to latch onto.

"...What if…?" Sam began, drawing the immediate attention of the three people sitting nearby. "Hey so what if maybe seeing it from a different PoV would help? Back in when I was here with Bu— well, with you a few days ago, that 'you' requested we climb higher up to get a different vantage point on the city. I got the impression you were hoping it might match up to something you remembered."

Before Barnes could respond, Shuri cocked her head and reached for the glasses in her pocket. She tapped the corner of the frames and without a drop of hesitation, stuck her hand through the shield and jostled them in the direction of a confused Barnes. "Here, put them on. They will offer you an augmented reality view of existing scans."

Sam was tryin' to get with the program as Barnes delicately grasped the nearest edge of the glasses and obediently put them on. He was expecting Shuri would take a moment to run Barnes through the particulars, but instead, Barnes pursed his lips and spread open his fingers and twitched them around in a way that bore more than a passing resemblance to how he'd piloted the touchless controls on that stolen Wakandan test jet. Whatever was showing up on the inside of those clear lenses captured the whole of his attention. "Can you turn off the music?"

Sam did as he was told, momentarily distracted by how the glasses gave Barnes an oddly booksmart look. Rather than remark on the peculiarity of it, he opted to chime in with his own caution-coded contribution, "Then you have to promise not to get too absorbed."

"I wouldn't have been sitting cross legged like this back then," Barnes defended, immediately catching onto Sam's drift about when the two of them had played pretend across town in that darkened alley with Ayo. Barnes had been trying to catch a whiff of some kinda awful HYDRA flashback he hoped might'a led 'em to HYDRA's old base of operations, but he'd come up short. While Barnes hadn't been forthcoming about the details, the whole thing had been profoundly unsettling end-to-end, and Sam didn't want a repeat of Barnes sliding backwards into some shattered version of himself like that, regardless of the good intentions behind it.

So that bein' as it was, Sam watched Barnes's expression, makin' sure he was staying firmly planted in the 'now' as Barnes lifted his right hand, pinched two fingers together, and rotated his wrist clockwise. No sooner had Sam begun to wonder what Barnes was up to, than Shuri tapped a command into her Kimoyo Beads, swapping out the holographic miniature buildings on her palm for a mirrored simulated view of what Barnes was seeing.

He maneuvered his virtual viewport closer to the dome and then backed up, regarding the building of interest. Barnes circled the virtual drone once before strafing sideways to position himself atop a nearby roof and then against an adjoining building in what Sam took as his attempts to put himself in the mind of someone scouting the dome for access points.

Along the way Sam didn't miss the wash of intrigue on Shuri's face, as if even she was impressed how swiftly Barnes had taken to her advanced tech.

"Anything?" Sam prompted when his patience was wearing thin.

"Not really. The city's changed a lot," Barnes admitted. "M'yra mentioned that the building in the corner where the assassination took place was renovated multiple times over the years, so I might not recognize it. That might be the case for other buildings in the area too."

"Like that traffic rotunda you said wasn't there way back."

"Yeah."

"Which we will discuss in detail tomorrow," Shuri emphasized.

Right. She didn't know about that bit either.

But she must not've held it against them, because she was quick to add, "It will take time to compile robust simulations of how the terrain and architecture might've appeared during different eras."

"I'm not sure if it might help the cause," Sam chimed in, "but Redwing collected data of a three-mile vicinity surrounding us back when we were in Symkaria last week. Back near where that weird paparazzi photo was taken out on the balcony. I can toss it to you in case it's of any help."

"Comprehensive scans would be a boon if they included structural information," Shuri readily agreed, keeping watch over Barnes's virtual piloting over Aniana. "It would be good for M'yra to have access to them too." When Sam accepted Shuri's data request prompt, she quickly added, "We should send it to her with a delay."

"You will find you will not be able to control M'yra's sleep schedule from afar any more than you can control the sun and stars," Yama observed. "She may feign slumber, but we all know she is awake even now."

Shuri snorted lightly but didn't debate Yama's claim. They all went silent again as they watched the holographic projection of the virtual drone's viewport reposition itself according to Barnes's input controls. He moved it around various nooks, crannies, and elevations surrounding the dome. It was obvious Barnes was fixated on trying to figure out why past-him might've jotted down a shorthand symbol for the building in his journal.

Out of nowhere Yama cocked her head and leaned towards the notebook resting beside Barnes, "...Could the triangles be symbols representing nearby roofs?"

Sam blinked and looked down at the chicken scratching in the margin of Barnes's notebook as Yama added, "Perhaps it is meant to be read in sequence to itself, rather than in relation to the entries near it?"

"Like pictographs?" Shuri inquired, casually inching closer to get a better view of the yellowed page.

Yama nodded as Sam did Shuri the honor of sliding the notebook towards her and rotating it so she could look at it from the right side up.

"I considered that but—" Barnes cut himself off as his point of view over Aniana hovered in place and over the shape of three roofs in the distance. It stayed steady for a moment, before turning and shooting off in another direction.

"Barnes…?" Sam pressed.

"Hold on, I think I… over here, yeah."

"If I could I buy a vowe—" Sam had been intending to press for clarity when he realized just what Barnes was doin'. He used that virtual drone of his to zoom east across the river and darted through the labyrinthine maze of lower Aniana before it came to a stop right above a familiar alleyway where the two of 'em and Ayo had played pretend not two hours before.

By the curious expression on Shuri's face, she immediately caught on that there was greater subtext she was missin', "Why here?"

"I think I know how I got to here. The tail end of it, I mean. I was returning from a mission."

Sam knew Barnes had been sent on a mission before someone from HYDRA had accompanied him for a pick-up, but the tone in Barnes's voice made it sound as if he'd put some pieces together that weren't there before. "Here," he used his left hand to place a dot into the virtual diorama, paused, and then traced the position back into the building and diagonally up what must'a been a set of stairs, forming a thin orange trail.

The group watched in silence as he tethered the line up and around another set of stairs and across to an adjoining roof top, and up two more stories and across again. Then down. With each step of the way, his expression grew increasingly strict and focused, like he'd managed to latch onto something bitter and distasteful he was set on pushing through. Sam didn't get the impression Barnes was lost in himself much as he was facin' off with those uncomfortable things time hadn't done the courtesy of washin' away.

He must've made two dozen lines and diagonals until he stopped inside a particular building with a steepled roof and his expression grew grim, if a little distant.

"I take it, you remember what went down there?" Sam chanced a guess.

"Yeah," Barnes's voice was low, rough, and barely audible. "But the thing is, I already knew that part. What happened there. What I did. But I didn't realize it took place here, in Symkaria. So what if…" he flipped his attention back to the notebook nearest Shuri and flipped the pages forward to another margin full of symbols. "The lines..."

"The pattern. I see it," Shuri readily agreed. Sam didn't grasp what she'd latched onto until she flicked her fingers and the lighted trail Barnes had made in three-dimensional space suddenly divided themselves up into smaller sections that were color coded. Green for diagonals that must've been stairs. Orange for the spaces between buildings he'd lept. Blue for—

Before Sam could even finish his thought, Shuri used her fingers to coax digital approximations of the symbols Barnes had written into the journals to life in the air in front of them. Only then did Sam rapidly realize the correlation she was seeing: The pathway Barnes had created on that mission appeared to match the shorthand in the journal. Four horizontal lines. A four-story building. A dash for a leap between them. Diagonals for when he'd gone up or down stairs. Lines representing when he'd changed direction.

A single triangle with an '' struck over the center.

He had a sinking suspicion that '' might'a been a mission objective, but this didn't seem the appropriate time to seek clarity on such a morbid subject. "What you wrote there. It all matches up," Sam heard himself declare as the people around him drank in the implications.

"Yeah," Barnes's voice was faint as he regarded Shuri's findings.

"It's akin to shorthand for a map," Shuri added, honing in on more enigmatic dots and symbols as she coaxed her A.I. to assist her. "A compass connecting pockets of memory."

"The top symbols extend further back than I remember," Barnes admitted to no one in particular. "Maybe I only remembered earlier parts of how I arrived at the location, just not where it was located geographically."

"The ink used for the symbols at the top and bottom of the stack are different from the ones in the middle," Yama observed. "It is as if it was drawn with another pen. Might the colors mean something too?"

Sam took a closer look, "The middle ones are smeared. Maybe you jotted them down first?"

"I might've added the others after the fact," Barnes extrapolated, taking Sam's idea and running with it. "Maybe I was trying to figure out how different things I saw were all connected."

"So like in the alleyway?"

Barnes met his eyes and nodded, immediately catching his drift, "Yeah. Like when I told you I remembered coming out of one of the doors, turning right, and walking nineteen paces before I was picked up by a vehicle." He tapped his finger on the yellowed paper for emphasis. "I think this was my attempt to log the steps I remembered of how I got somewhere. I just didn't have all of them. I still don't," he quickly added, pulling back his virtual view of the city. "But the mission leading to the alleyway wasn't anywhere near the dome. They might not be related at all."

"Was your choice to pursue this alleyway because you believed it might lead you to their old base of operations?" Shuri inquired, reading between the lines.

"Yeah, but I lost the trail before I got far. I wasn't on foot when they took me in. They transported me blindfolded in an automobile." Barnes adjusted the virtual camera view and flew back across the river to the domed building. He circled them at a distance and flipped back through the journal to the entry where the margin contained a symbol for what might've very well been shorthand for the same dome. "It could be I was here too, but without a solid point of reference on the path I took, I can't trace how close I got or what I was doing nearby."

"Perhaps there are patterns to be found in the trail you logged and now recognize," Shuri noted. "I will have Griot run comparative analyses to see if he can establish any overlaps with known locations."

"If the city's changed as much as I think it has, it will be difficult, especially since we don't know when that mission with the dome even was."

Before Sam could chime in with his two cents about the '' written across a stack of parallel lines on the nearest entry, the ten minute timer Shuri's set chimed and shimmered from the beads surrounding her wrist. She pursed her lips and glanced down at the offending bead, swiftly silencing it. In the same motion she closed the holographic projection over palm and sent Barnes an apologetic expression. "We can continue to discuss this discovery and other matters in the morning, but it is past time for you to begin your first sleep cycle. You must promise me you will stow your journals and rest your mind awhile. You have been through much today."

The audible sigh Barnes gave off wasn't explicitly defeat, but Sam felt for him all the same. This was more than enough mysteries for one day. "I'll try to sleep," he promised, carefully removing the augmented glasses before gently sliding them across the floor against the interior of the energy dome so Shuri could grasp them from the other side. She nodded her thanks and gingerly picked them up, placing them in her pocket as she rose to her feet.

From just beside her Yama observed, "It's intriguing to think that you have located at least two or three new entries that might offer additional insight into your past activities in Symkaria. It is a worthy discovery for one night."

While Yama's accolades were clearly meant to ease Barnes out of his single minded pursuit, it made Sam wonder how many more secrets might be tucked away in those cryptic symbols, and moreover: how many of 'em actually mattered with how much time Barnes might have left.

The thought hit Sam hard, and he did what he could to push it down. He couldn't help thinking maybe Shuri's willingness to toss Barnes a lifeline on his curiosities was 'cause she knew time might be running out, and while she might not be able to resolve what was goin' on with his addled mind, maybe she could at least offer him a scrap of closure along the way.

It wasn't the consolation prize Sam wanted, but it was abundantly clear it meant something to Barnes.

Sam wasn't sure how much closer they were to solvin' any mysteries, but it was wild to think that Barnes — well, 'Barnes' from a few years back — had been able to jot down one of the paths he'd taken through the city without even realizing where even he was at the time. It wasn't clear how much more info they'd be able to squeeze out of his shorthand, but that column containing the symbol for the dome was still open season, as was that entry with the newspaper clipping. None of 'em knew just what he'd been up to or where he'd been going, but it was damn curious that the shape had shown up there at all, and how they might be related.

Could they be related to the men from Isaiah Bradley's unit that apparently had been dragged up here to some unknown ends?

Sam wanted to think it might'a meant something, 'specially since they still didn't know who that redhead was that he'd taken the time to sketch into the newspaper clipping.

As Shuri brushed herself off, Yama addressed Sam curiously, "You said that when you were last in Symkaria, he had no firm memories of this place?"

Barnes turned to listen in, well aware they were talking about him as Sam replied. "Nothing he could put his finger on. I don't get the impression he was beating around the bush, either. He was frustrated. Like he knew it was supposed to be there, but it wasn't."

Yama pursed her lips and ruminated aloud, "I've begun to wonder if there were periods absent of memories we once believed were merely sustained cryo, when he—" she regarded Barnes, "—when you might've actually been awake, only that your memories were suppressed by HYDRA's sinister grip."

That right there was a chilling thought. It wasn't the first time any'a them had stopped to wonder about the subtext about why Barnes knew things Bucky hadn't — consciously, at least — but the raw proposition that he might'a been out of cryo more than either of them remembered had a way of generating a whole new treasure trove of unanswered questions that were far too vast for the late hour they were lingerin' in.

"It's altogether possible," Shuri noted, folding her arms across her chest, "but memories aren't stored in specific places in the brain. We have no easy way of cataloguing their presence or absence. I had hoped that by removing the nails, negating the press of the code words, and restoration function to damaged areas of the brain might've unlocked all of the memories that were not irreparably damaged by HYDRA's vile experimentation, but the ripples caused by their work have clearly caused remarkable traumas we are still desperately trying to stabilize."

That was certainly one way of putting it.

Shuri gestured a hand and diplomatically changed the subject, "It will be imperative for the shield to remain around you while you rest, but would you prefer to sleep under observation in one the bedrooms rather than here in the front room?"

Barnes glanced down the hallway considering her offer wearing that tight, focused expression he sometimes had on when there was a bit too much goin' on in his head all at once. "I'd prefer to stay here."

Sam felt like he could all-but hear the cogs clatterin' around in Barnes's skull. That he'd feel trapped in a bedroom. Constricted. Well, if he found the ambiance of the front room appealing, at least he didn't have to be uncomfortable. With a heft of effort, Sam got to his feet and stepped out of the dome to collect Barnes's bedroll, pillow, and blanket.

Barnes raised his head to watch him gather the belongings while Shuri offered a refresher on their established nighttime protocol. "We will plan for nine sixty minute cycles separated by at least five full minutes of waking. This measured duration is to ensure you do not accidentally enter REM sleep, which can occur as early as ninety minutes into an average sleep cycle. It is critical to avoid entering that stage of sleep because it has shown to be turbulent on your mind and may lead to further memory loss."

It was clear she sought to cultivate as much clarity and calmness in her voice as she possibly could while reminding everyone in the vicinity of the seriousness of his prescribed sleep schedule. "You are to answer whatever questions your guardians have for you before you set a new alarm. And as I have said before, it is possible you may experience dreams, particularly in Stage Three of NREM sleep, but you need not be alarmed. It's wholly normal and likely to bridge from the brain's latent desire to replay recent experiences in order to catalogue them."

By the sour expression on Barnes's face, that prescription wasn't exactly the most reassuring pill to swallow, but he nodded, acknowledging Shuri's statement as she added, "You should make an effort to log what you recall from your dreams in case it proves useful to diagnosing the ailments of your mind, or—" her voice slowed, pulling away from its usual genius physician's pace, growing more gentle, "—if any details should help to offer answers for the many questions circling your thoughts. Such matters are important in their own right."

Shuri offered him what Sam thought was a valiant attempt at an encouraging smile, but he could see the concern curled in the corners of her eyes. She might'a been a fraction of Barnes's age, but she knew the stakes they were wranglin' with better'n most, and Sam did her the courtesy of standing at the ready with an armful of Barnes's sleeping gear while she went over the details.

"Two guardians will remain awake at all times to ensure you don't experience any unforeseen issues. And as before, your snooze alarm has been disabled." She took a step back and directed her attention to Yama. "Remember to set your own alarm and monitor Barnes's readouts. I value your instinct, and you are to wake me immediately if there are any irregularities that stand out to you, no matter how small. You are to wake Ayo or Nomble if you begin to tire or question the clarity of your focus."

"Yes, my princess," Yama acknowledged from the floor with a swift one-armed salute across her chest. The motion made the grey pom pom on atop her knitted hat sway from side-to-side.

Satisfied, Shuri took a step back so Sam could drop off Barnes's bedroll, pillow, and blanket into the interior space of the energy dome before she gathered an armful of her own belongings and headed towards the hallway leading to the bedrooms. She made it all the way to the doorway but stopped short.

She lingered there for a moment before she turned towards them again, and Sam could immediately tell something else was weighing on her thoughts. Her attention drifted over each of them, but steadied onto Barnes. "We've all had an incredibly long day, and while I know I do not desire to pry further into the many matters causing you understandable distress, I think it important for it to not go unsaid how we are — all of us — doing everything in our power to hear you and help you. Ayo included."

Sam was expecting some kinda night time tidings, but hadn't heard that last bit comin'. From the way Barnes's face tensed, it seemed as though he hadn't either. It was obvious to Sam that Barnes had been acting weird — even for him — since they'd gone and rounded him up outside that electronics repair shop. Initially Sam had chalked it up to Barnes realizing he'd royally messed up and overcompensating by way of goin' full-blown submissive, but it'd become increasingly apparent that it was more'n that.

Sam hadn't been able to pinpoint the root cause of the uneasy nuance that'd sprung up between him and Ayo, but it was painful to watch Barnes shrink into himself whenever she did so much as open her mouth to speak. It reminded Sam of how he'd initially taken her for a handler who could wield words against him. But this here? It felt like somethin' deeper hangin' over him that had even Ayo walking on eggshells. Like Shuri, Sam wasn't privy to the details, but he hated seein' discontent between the two of 'em, especially after how far they'd come.

Had Barnes remembered somethin' between the two of 'em, or was it something else entirely? Especially with how little time Barnes might have left, it hurt seein' 'em at odds, and Sam hoped they could get back to a point where there was trust between 'em, not just a bowed head and strict compliance.

But Barnes didn't say anything to address Shuri's gentle plea. He just dropped his eyes and sat there like he was hoping he could crawl into a hole and stop being the center of so much uncomfortable attention.

Shuri sighed, disheartened that her words hadn't reached him in the way she'd hoped they might. "In any case, goodnight Barnes. Sam. Yama. Rest well, and I'll see you in the morning when we can discuss our next steps." With that, Shuri cast one last look over those assembled around the floor of the kitchen table before she bundled her belongings into the crook of one arm and headed down the hallway to bed.

In the wake of her departure, Sam had half a mind to try and rattle some answers out of Barnes about why even the passing mention of Ayo's name sent him teetering off into some dark place, but Sam know if Barnes was going to manage any shuteye, then it was one of any number of questions that could wait.

Who knew: maybe things would smooth over on their own after a good night's sleep? Lord knew, they could all use it.

When Sam glanced over to Yama to gauge her thoughts, he didn't doubt she might'a been able to read his mind straightaway, 'cause she offered him the smallest shake of her head he took as a sign she agreed they should table the subject of Ayo for the time being. They were all bone tired, and he and Yama would be testing their endurance for the next three hours until it was time to change up shifts.

When it seemed apparent Barnes had successfully dodged any uncomfortable follow-up questions, he resolved to unroll his bedroll and settle in on the floor, pillow and all.

The sight made Sam immediately second guess his approach. He'd meant to hand the gear off to Barnes so he could start plannin' out his next steps, not as a silent decree that he was to set up camp right in the middle of his makeshift personal library. "If you'd like, I'm sure we can move ya over to the couch so you can sleep there on the cushions. Yama can adjust the energy field, right?" He looked to her to tag team support.

"Easily," she responded, directing her voice to the man presently settling himself out in the middle of the hardwood floor. "It would be far more comfortable, especially after so many days with only the earth cupping our backs."

"Floor's fine," Barnes reasoned, clearly eager to drop the subject.

Problem was, the way he said it had a way of burrowing into Sam's head, sending him straight back to when Buck'd taken up residence on the floor of their Wakandan suite after Ayo had given him a verbal lashing and divested him of his prosthetic arm.

"Floor's fine. I don't even own a bed," Buck had said with emphasis like his only wish was to be left alone so he could wallow and rot away right there on the floor.

An uncomfortably long silence had followed before Sam inquired, "Wait. In Brooklyn?"

"Yeah, look it's okay. I'm fine. This is fine. The floor's fine."

And then Bucky had done his damnedest to avoid meeting Sam's gaze, just like Barnes was doing now. "You know you had a stubborn preference for floors even before we were back on that mountain."

Sam's remark earned him the smallest of glances from Barnes who thought to add, "You told me I slept on the floor back in that suite, and I don't like sleeping on couches," before looking back up at the ceiling as an out.

"Or mattresses. I get it. Been there myself."

From his bedroll, Barnes furrowed his eyebrows together and turned his head ever so slightly towards Sam again, like he wasn't sure if Sam was teasing him, or if he actually understood in his own way.

It was clear Sam had a captive audience. "You probably don't remember me saying this, but I used rocks for pillows in Afghanistan," he stated evenly as he sat and leaned back on his hands. "I had a history all my own before we crossed paths, you know. So if that's what you think you need right now, I'm not gonna argue it with you. Just don't go and make yourself uncomfortable on purpose like it's some kinda penance no one asked for, alright?"

Rather than outright ignore Sam's marginal rhetorical, Barnes eventually responded with a guilt ridden, "Okay," that wasn't altogether convincing.

Either way, the exchange prompted Barnes to take a deep breath as he adjusted his shoulders and stared up at the kitchen ceiling like the socially-challenged weirdo he was. Then again, it wasn't like a life like his came with an instruction manual.

Sam pushed back against the pervasive silence by resuming the crooning jazz ballad they'd been listening to prior to their talk about Symkaria and the enigmatic contents of Barnes's journals. He was actively debating his next move when Yama made a discreet horizontal gesture with one hand and tilted her head in Barnes's direction, wordlessly suggesting for Sam to join Barnes in his stargazing along the floor. Sam got the impression Yama prolly would have led the charge herself were she not conscripted to keep an eye on things from her duty-mandated post on the outside the dome.

So Sam resolved to offer her a conspiratorial nod before he wordlessly laid down on the hardwood between 'em. He knew it was nearly time for Barnes to settle in for his first round of shuteye for the evening, but it felt wrong jumpin' directly to that without at least a few measures of music between 'em. Sam waited until there was a lull in the melody trickling out of his cell phone before he offered, "I know you need to get some rest and you're not much in the mood for talkin' — Lord knows I get it — but I wanna make sure you knew there's no oil in the water between us."

Sam did what he could to stay focused on the white textured ceiling above him, but he could hear Barnes shift a little in his bedroll like he was listening. "Anyway. You made some bad calls earlier, but who hasn't? And just so we're clear, I'm not mad at you. 'Team Underdog' and I are good."

The words were steeped in truths, but there was a silent added weight that he didn't know how much time Barnes had left where his mind was his own. Before it risked slipping to some unknown place it couldn't bounce back from. And Sam might not be able to do a damn thing but wait and hope, but he could at least make it crystal clear that Barnes mattered. And that he shouldn't spend what time he had wallowing in worry if he'd irreparably damaged his friendships with the people around him. He should know better'n that, but sometimes bein' blunt had a way of cuttin' through the thick'a things.

Sam figured it couldn't hurt to offer a spot of personal candor. "I know we got the logistics of this whole sleep thing down to an art, and there's no reason to be nervous as long as we stick to the schedule, but it still puts me on edge. I wish you could get a normal night's sleep like the rest of us."

While Barnes's response wasn't quick in coming, when it eventually rose up, it was caked in a deep exhaustion Sam felt in his soul. "I don't remember sleep ever being restful like that." Barnes confided. He left out a short burst of air that was either a sigh, a bitter snort, or something in-between. "I couldn't risk letting myself go under for long. I had to stay alert in D.C. and that was only days ago for me."

Sam was quick to remind himself that that whole bit in 2014 was ancient history for Sam, but a recent memory to Barnes. Back before he suddenly woke up in Shuri's lab on a Sunday afternoon Sam was never gonna forget so long as he lived.

"I'm still getting used to it, but waking up around other people like this isn't so bad. Just different. It's a lot better than waking up from cryo." Sam could only imagine. He'd seen Buck wake up from partial cryo and the whole thing was all kinds of awful. The thought of Barnes being repeatedly subjected to that with HYDRA scientists on the other side of things…? Well, he could understand why the mere act of waking up carried a load of unspoken trauma right along with it.

A few more measures of music waltzed through the front room before Barnes confided, "I know there's no use counting, but I keep wondering how many more cycles I have before my mind starts to unravel. If I'll even know it's happening." His voice grew softer so that it was almost indistinguishable from the lulls in the music, "I don't want to hurt anyone again. And I shouldn't have lied to you when you wanted to know if I was okay. When I told you I was fine."

"Well. How 'bout now?" Sam caught a hint of a challenge in his own voice.

"No. I'm definitely not 'fine,'" Barnes admitted to the ceiling for what might've been the first time on known record.

"That there's a start. Apology accepted by the way. "

Barnes let out a breath of air he'd apparently been holding and settled his shoulders against the bulk of the sleeping bag.

"Regret is a very human thing," Yama observed from where she sat cross legged outside of the energy dome. "I cannot weave words as Nomble can, but do you remember what she said about its meaning? That choices made can lead to outcomes that you no longer desire, but cannot undo? Unraveling those threads can be tricky work, but it is not a fruitless effort, even now. Those decisions do not have to define you."

"I'm with Yama," Sam chimed in, pulling his hands under his neck as he did his best to ignore the slight chill of the hardwood at his back. "And just don't do it again and we're good. 'Sides, Shuri and the scientists back at the Design Center are still workin' hard on a solution for the other stuff. No need givin' up prematurely, alright?"

While Sam didn't want to blow smoke up Barnes's ass about the painfully short timeline they were working with, he knew it was more important than ever to not presume the days ahead were a dead end leading to a predetermined outcome none of 'em wanted.

Sam hadn't been entirely aware he'd asked a question until the man laying beside him offered a somewhat resigned, "Alright." Two musical refrains passed before he added more cautiously, "You ever heard of feral children?"

Now Barnes could have asked any number of questions at that moment and Sam wouldn't have batted an eye, but this? This here caught him completely off guard. Took him straight back to the floor of that Wakandan suite where Bucky had first broached the term with him. "Yeah, but where on Earth did you ever hear of it?"

"I…" Barnes awkwardly began as if he hadn't anticipated Sam's question in exchange for his own. Sam didn't get the impression that Barnes was trying to dodge the question so much as work back through his shattered memory to try and piece some 'semblence of chronology together. He wasn't sure exactly where Barnes might'a been headed when he started down the path of, "Well I told you I sometimes fed strays, right?"

Back in their first night in Wakanda after that confrontation where Ayo had divested Bucky of his arm, Buck had been midway through an inner monologue about feral children and his own self-perceived inadequacies when they'd gotten interrupted by Ayo knocking on the door of their suite. He'd never gotten a chance to finish, but he'd also never said anything about actual animals. "Yeah?"

"I fed the cats sometimes. Left out food. Water. That sort of thing. Most of them were skittish, but a few stuck around or followed me even after I changed locations. I spent most of my time high up, so I didn't interact with dogs as much, but I'd see a few strays down below trying to make due like I was. There was one caught sight of now and then, and one day in March I caught sight of it again, except it was thinner than before and had a bad limp."

"What color was it?" Yama inquired, as if the information was especially critical.

"It was brown with black points and a white star on its chest." Barnes slowly sucked in a breath of air and let it out slowly, like he was trying to put the pieces together in real time. "It was hard to keep focused because I knew I had to stay ahead of HYDRA and make sure they didn't get to Steve or you, but the limp on that dog bothered me. They way it shivered and whined. I could tell it was in pain. That it probably had a broken leg. But I didn't know what to do. I could barely take care of myself and I didn't know a thing about dogs, just that HYDRA sometimes used me as bait to train theirs."

Sam was guessing there were a lot more stories to tell there, but Barnes continued unabated. "I tried leaving food out for it when I made trips down to street level, and a few days later I caught sight of it eating and thought to take a closer look at its leg, but when I got close it lashed out. Grabbed ahold of my hand and wouldn't let go." Barnes ran his hands together like he was caught up in the potency of the memory. "It kept thrashing like he was fighting for its life. I knew I was strong enough to pry it off, but I didn't want to accidentally hurt it. It didn't know what it was doing. Didn't know I was trying to help. Eventually it let go and ran off, but the damage was extensive and wouldn't heal on its own."

If Barnes called his wound 'extensive,' Sam could only imagine how dire the damage must've been. The image in his head certainly wasn't pretty. "Tell me you went to hospital or somethin'?"

Barnes shook his head. "Couldn't risk being seen, especially in a suboptimal state." He licked his lips and continued, "I applied what wound care I could, but it was difficult to form secure stitches using only my left hand. After I'd finally gotten the worst of the bleeding under control, I started running a fever within a few hours, and I knew something was wrong. I waited until it got dark and broke into a veterinary clinic after hours. I was hoping to get some painkillers and antibiotics since I'd exhausted my own supplies, but I got sloppy."

Sam's breath hitched, and he hoped beyond hope the next thing Barnes said wasn't grim as he worried it might be. "Someone was there?" he guessed.

"Yeah…" Barnes trailed off. "I think she might've been checking up on the cages in the back. But we caught each other by surprise. I didn't know who she was, but some part of me knew she wasn't HYDRA. That she wasn't a threat."

Barnes swallowed once before he continued, "She asked about my hand and what had happened. Said I should go to a hospital. At the time I couldn't parse her expression, but looking back now… I don't think she was as scared as she probably should have been. She just wanted to help. Help someone she didn't know who'd just broken into her clinic." Barnes snorted at the ridiculousness of it.

"Before I left, she asked about the stray dog and told me about rabies. How it was serious and potentially fatal for someone on the receiving end of a bite. That I needed shots, because it was also impossible to test for in an animal while it's still alive."

Sam nodded, "Yeah. Even in the best of cases, animals without a vaccination record that bite'll end up in quarantine to see if any symptoms develop. If it's a stray? A lotta places are liable to just euthanize 'em outright as a precaution. Not fair to them, but you can't catch and release aggressive animals like that who might be carriers."

"That's the thing," Barnes insisted, "the vet tech said I should call animal control if I saw it again, but she also mentioned that it might not be rabies at all. That some animals lash out because they don't know better, or because they're scared or in pain. She said sometimes they can be rehabilitated and learn to trust people, but others won't ever be able to make the leap. That they'd always be a danger to people, even if they didn't have rabies. That their minds get stuck."

It was a grim reality, and Sam was pretty sure he knew how this story was gonna go.

"What did you do?" Yama inquired, following along from her post on the floor outside the dome.

"I tracked the dog to an alley about five blocks away from the original location where I'd been bitten, and then subdued it and bound it with a leash. I carried it up to a vacant roof and set its leg in a splint and created a secure perimeter while I waited to see if it exhibited any further symptoms."

Okay, that was not how Sam thought this was gonna go. "Wait wait—" he rapidly waved his hands in front of him, "what did you do with it?"

"I made sure its basic needs were met, and after ten days without any signs of rabies, I acquired a suitable carrier and left the dog by the back door of the veterinary clinic with a note and compensation to evaluate the animal and vaccinate it. After a successful stay, it was transferred to a local shelter where it underwent behavioral therapy and eventually entered a fostering program. I don't know what happened to it after that."

The lack of closure in Barnes's voice was unmistakable, although Sam was left reeling trying to picture the series of events in conjunction when the man he'd last crossed paths with in 2014 after being kicked tail-first off a helicarrier minus one wing. The idea of that guy not only being startled by a vet tech, but leaving her alive and resolving to wrangling up a stray dog that'd bit him… it struck Sam in a very particular way, especially knowin' now that he would'a been juggling not only waves of relentless HYDRA agents sent against him and Steve, but trying to persist in spite of what must've been overwhelming pain and confusion and those damned nails in his scalp. "Well good on you for tryin' give that dog a fightin' chance."

"...Did I ever say anything to you about the dog? About what happened to it after that?" Barnes's voice rang with hope for some sliver of closure. "I didn't see anything about it in the journals."

For not the first time, Sam had to be the bearer of disappointment, "You never mentioned a dog to me. Yama?"

She frowned and shook her head from side to side, "I don't recall you making mention of a dog during your stay in Washington D.C. either, but you rarely chose to share details from that time with us."

Barnes sighed and Sam circled back to a comment he had made earlier, "But what does that have to do with feral children?" He had a feeling he knew where some fraction of this was goin', and he turned his head just slightly to catch the profile of Barnes lookin' up at the ceiling.

"I couldn't recall hearing the term before," Barnes admitted, "but I saw it when looking up information about rescues. I wanted to understand what made the difference between feral animals and children that were able to integrate, and the ones that couldn't. I…" the pace of his words slowed, "I don't remember much of who I was separate of them. I read about it in displays and overheard what Steve used to say about me. Or at least about the person he knew. Same as all of you." He motioned one hand towards the stack of ruled notebooks stacked nearby. "I don't remember most of what's in those, or the years I've apparently been alive. It's not an excuse for the decisions I've made, but I have no way of knowing if whatever HYDRA did to my brain stunted whatever's left behind. Damaged it in ways I can't move past, no matter how hard I try." His voice was edged with emotion far more raw than Sam was used to hearing from Barnes. It hurt to hear him air his private battles, especially when it was abundantly clear he was grappling with some immensely difficult topics he might not've ever dared to speak out loud.

Sam was gathering his thoughts on just how to respond to all that when Yama's smooth and immensely empathetic voice cut in between the refrain of a rolling jazz ballad. "Your mind has seen cruel and terrible damage at the hands of others," she rested one of her arms across her lap while the other made gestures for emphasis, "but it has not left you as only a shell of a man from long, long ago that Steve once recalled. Sam and I never truly knew that outline of a man. And that is alright. I am not who I once was when I was young, because the world changes and shapes us all in ways we can never plan for, though some more than others." She nodded her head thoughtfully towards Barnes. "That is not to say you should not grieve wondering what it might be like if you were able to remember larger swaths of your life, or what it might have been were it not for some especially cruel twists of fate that befell you, but that does not mark you as irreparably flawed and beyond help, nor incapable of friendship." She leaned forward so her face was as close as it could be to the orange barrier between them, "Do you worry that you might always be a danger to people around you like the stray dog in your story?"

"I don't think I'd be able to tell the difference," Barnes confessed hollowly.

"Well as one of a number of people that's seen you suffer through some downright complex mental shuffles," Sam chimed in, "I can tell you that the fact you spent bandwidth worryin' about that dog and the folks around you should tell ya all you need to know. 'Cause Barnes? You're many things — stubborn bein' top'a mind — and you might have some stumbles and misfires in social graces here'n there, but the worst parts of your past don't define you. And I'm here to say that what you have is more'n enough."

"We would also not be relaxing together on these hardwood floors if we saw you merely as a curiosity or echo," Yama readily agreed. "You have earned your place in our Pack through your own efforts, and we would not be here together in Symkaria without them. I know it may be difficult to grasp words of kindness when you do not feel deserving of them, but I think you can tell that we speak no lies."

Barnes's glossy blue eyes glanced first to Sam, then to Yama, then back to the ceiling like he was trying to sort through whatever was churning around in his own head. Eventually the heaving in his chest began to still with each breath like he was doin' his best to percolate on what'd they'd said rather than dismiss 'em outright.

"You are not a danger to us, Lost Wolf. You are our friend, and our lives are richer for that friendship." Yama's words rang true as she added, "But you are also greatly in need of rest."

Barnes didn't argue the point, and Sam nodded, using his elbows to first prop himself up and get to his feet before stepping outside the orange energy dome. "If you're still feeling up to it, we can talk more after you get some shuteye."

"Okay," Barnes weakly conceded, lifting his wrist to toggle the timer for his haptic alarm. Sam stepped out of the dome and gave Barnes space to settle in for his catnap, pulling up a chair at the kitchen table and setting a matching hour alarm on his cellphone. While he wasn't on the verge of falling asleep just yet, he knew it wasn't a sign of weakness to have his own alarm to keep an eye on the time.

The sight of Barnes tucked under a blanket while he laid on the floor in a sleeping bag under a dimmed orange energy dome was far from Sam's favorite sight, but he understood the layers of precaution they were dealin' in.

Just like other sleep sessions back on the mountain, Yama synced her own alarm and pulled up a live holographic feed to monitor Barnes's brainwaves and biometrics. Once that manner of business was attended to, she dimmed the interior of the dome to afford Barnes a better sleeping environment. "I am going to toggle on the noise cancellation to help give you the best chance of a restful sleep. Would you like to continue listening to Sam's music via his bluetooth connection, or would you prefer silence?"

"I might be able to sleep better without the music," Barnes admitted before more tentatively inquiring, "Could you… adjust the acoustics to make it sound more like it did up on the mountain?"

The smile on Yama's face was exceedingly gentle, but Sam didn't miss the pang of emotion across her face. "Of course. I can attempt to mimic the natural ambiance of that outdoor space." She pulled up a secondary menu over her Kimoyo strand, dialing in the setting while Barnes watched her work. "I'll set the noise cancellation to one-way as before, so if you need anything, all you need do is ask."

"Anything else?" Sam inquired from where sat on a chair beside Yama.

"Answers," Barnes responded candidly, motioning towards his stack of journals with one hand before closing his eyes. "But besides that? No."

"Sleep well, Lost Wolf. We'll talk soon." With that, Yama dimmed the dome and rolled her shoulders as she settled in for the long haul of their planned vigil.

"G'night," Sam added, wishing for not the first time that he knew a magical series of words that would make any fraction of this situation they were in the smallest bit more manageable.

He got about thirty seconds into deliberating if he were in the mood for any isolated musical accompaniment for the two souls languishing outside the dome when Barnes's tentative voice unexpectedly broke the silence. "Even with everything that's happened, I just wanted you to know that the last three days have been some of the best days I can remember. Thanks for not giving up on me… even when I deserved it."

The admission twisted itself inside of Sam's heart, and Yama glanced up to him from the floor with an expression that shone with the depths of shared understanding. With a single finger, she briefly toggled off the noise-dampening field so Sam could speak his own truth aloud for Barnes to hear, "I'm not mincin' words when I say you're the strongest man I know. But you're not alone in this. We've got your back, and we're not goin' anywhere. Now get some shuteye. We'll see you in an hour."

Barnes already had his eyes closed as he casually corrected Sam from his makeshift cocoon, "Fifty-eight minutes, but who's counting?"

Sam snorted lightly and settled in for the long haul.

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[Chapter 93 Chapter Art, by KLeCrone]

[ID: A cropped illustration by KLeCrone showing a discolored journal entry with tan paper and brown ink written both vertically and horizontally. Some additional markings have been made in blue, red, and green ink, and select words have been highlighted. On the right hand side there is a section that has been made to look like an old torn newspaper article, featuring text in Hungarian surrounding a black and white photograph of an empty European city street at night time. Along the skyline, an image of a person with red hair has been drawn in with red and black ink. End ID]

Back when I started work on this chapter, I remember deliberating what piece of art I might want to go along with it, and I eventually settled on the idea of trying to create an illustration of some of the contents of Barnes's journal, including the entry we now realize features a newspaper clipping of an area of eastern Aniana, Symkaria.

This ended up being an interesting undertaking because I didn't want to go too crazy with details on the cityscape since I knew I eventually wanted to try to apply filters and distressing to make it look like an old newspaper clipping. On the whole, I'm satisfied with how it turned out, and I honestly wish I'd done this earlier when the contents of this journal entry were first mentioned. But there you have it! It's complete with that mysterious figure Barnes drew in at some point, as well as that domed building far in the background and all sorts of scrawling, coded text. I wonder what all of it means…?

Please check out this chapter on Archive of Our Own to see all of the art!

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Author's Remarks:

I hope all of you are holding up okay in your part of the world. It's been an especially busy month out here, and I appreciate your patience while I crafted what ended up being a much longer and more involved chapter than I originally intended. I guess that's what I get for mixing all of these plots with a delicious side of angst. ;)

· Whispers from Symkaria - So apparently at some point Barnes jotted down some bits and pieces in his journals that seem to connect to Symkaria, even though it's unclear if he made the connection at the time. Curious…

· Barnes and the Stray Dog - It's been a pleasure having the opportunity to look back on early conversations through a different lens, and I really loved the idea that Barnes's experiences with a stray dog were nor only formative, but also had a way of forcing him to confront his own perceptions of himself.

· Pack Bonds - While some of the gang is fast asleep, I just wanted to say how much I enjoyed writing some of the especially candid talks towards the tail end of this chapter. It's certainly not a coincidence that Shuri and Ayo instructed Sam and Yama to stay up with Barnes for their first shift. I think they knew it was likely that conversations they might have would help to put Barnes at ease, and let him know he wasn't nearly as alone or ostracized as he might feel.

· Chapter Title Origins: Feral Echoes - The title of this chapter is a play on the term Feral Child. I liked the idea that Barnes saw a bit of himself in that injured stray dog, and that his way of dealing with the situation was more compassionate than he probably gave himself credit for at the time. I think there's something to be said about people doing the right thing because deep down, they want to help, versus people behaving virtuously only because they want the clout. I'd like to imagine that Barnes went out of his way to do right by that stray dog because he knew he could help, and without his help, that dog could've hurt other people and/or been put down.

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As always, thank you for all your wonderful comments, questions, thoughts, and words of encouragement on this story. Knowing that others out there are following alongside me on this crazy journey helps keep me fueled to keep on writing, especially on these more intricate chapters which take a *lot* of time to plan, write, and edit (There are SO many plot threads I'm weaving together here…!). I can't wait to share what's ahead with you!

I hope the upcoming season is rejuvenating for you, and that it's filled with bright new memories with you family: whether they are related to you by blood, or found family, like many characters from this story.