I will hide myself below
I'll be what you wanted
Kept inside, I won't let go
Till I burn beyond control

...

Carnivore! Carnivore!
Won't you come digest me?
Take away everything I am
Bring it to an end

- "Carnivore" by Starset

The plan Steve eventually settled on was to drive to the Bartons' on Saturday and come back the following Tuesday. That way, they would spend two whole days on the farm—long enough to get in some good conversations, but short enough that hopefully it wouldn't be too taxing on Jake's nerves. It was a drastic change from their usual routine, so Steve had no doubt that it would be stressful for him. Hopefully, it would be worth it. This plan meant missing out on the chance to visit Bucky on Sunday, but at least they would be able to talk on the phone.

In the end, Sam decided not to join them. For one thing, he was leading a group therapy session on Monday evening. It also happened to be Gideon's birthday on Saturday. Sam had been debating whether he should visit him or not, but now that everyone else was going to be busy, he'd decided to spend the weekend with his family.

So Steve and Jake were alone as they set out on their first road trip together. It was a long drive to the Bartons' farm, but Steve did his best to make the time pass faster for both of them. He talked to Jake about all the fun things they were going to see and do at the farm, trying to prepare him as much as possible for what they would encounter there. Every time he glanced in the rearview mirror, he saw Jake either listening to him stoically or staring with wide eyes at the passing scenery out the window.

Keeping in mind what Clint had said, Steve tried to engage Jake's mind in simple games they could play in the car. He taught him how to play I Spy (though Jake kept on saying, "I spy something blue," which always turned out to be the sky) and the alphabet game (and they actually made it all the way to X before they had to give up). As usual, Jake didn't look like he was having much fun; he just stared intently out the window and spoke with little confidence, as if afraid of not passing the test.

Sam had made them a travel playlist of children's songs like "The Wheels on the Bus" and "She'll Be Coming Round the Mountain," so once they ran out of games to play, Steve turned on the music. Steve sang along to the ones he knew, and quickly picked up the words to the ones he wasn't familiar with. Jake didn't sing, but just watched with a curious tilt to his head as Steve belted out the silly words.

Did Jake even know how to sing? Steve hadn't really thought much about it; there always seemed to be so many more important things to teach him. Maybe he needed to start singing more around Jake. He hadn't felt much like singing or even whistling or humming for months now. But he had to admit that even a song as simple as "The Itsy Bitsy Spider" made him feel marginally more cheerful.

They took a break at a rest stop to stretch their legs and get some lunch. Jake, staring around wide-eyed at his surroundings, pointed up at the shiny picture of a hot dog when Steve asked him what he wanted. He almost seemed to forget to eat, he was so busy watching everyone who passed by their picnic table. Steve let him take his time, enjoying the fresh air and sunshine.

Jake fell asleep shortly after they got back on the highway, so Steve drove on in silence for the next few hours. He couldn't help wishing that Bucky were sitting in the passenger seat beside him. Even if he didn't say anything, even if he slept through the drive like Jake, he still could have kept Steve company. He couldn't help comparing this trip to the last time he'd driven to Clint's house. That road trip had been full of laughter and conversation with Bucky and Sam. Even though it had been exhausting, it had been a lot of fun. They really needed to do that again sometime after Bucky came back home.

The sun was getting lower in the sky by the time Steve pulled off the highway and turned onto a gravel road. Jake looked curiously from one side to the other as they turned a few corners, passing between fields and pastures. Steve pointed out cows and horses as they passed them; Jake stared at them as avidly as if they were ostriches and zebras.

Finally, Steve took a turn and smiled as a familiar farm house came into view. He could see Cooper and Lila throwing a ball back and forth in the front yard; once they caught sight of the car, they raced up the steps to the front door, calling for their parents.

"Here we are, buddy," Steve said, smiling as he brought the car to a halt next to Clint's weather-beaten truck. "Let's go say hi."

Jake hung close to Steve's side and a little behind him, as if to take cover in his shadow. He kept a wary eye on the people descending the front steps to greet them. Of course, he already knew Clint, Wanda, and Vision, but it had been a long time since he'd seen them. He stared especially hard at the kids, who smiled and waved at him.

Clint had told Steve that he'd explained to his oldest two that they needed to be extra kind and gentle with Jake. From what Steve could tell as they all went inside and sat down at the dinner table, they seemed to have taken that to heart. As they were finding their seats, Lila turned to Jake with a friendly smile and asked, "Hey, Jake, you wanna sit next to me?"

Jake looked slightly alarmed, as if he hadn't expected someone so small to ask something of him. He hastily looked up at Steve, apparently hoping for some kind of instruction.

"I think maybe I'd better sit next to him," Steve said to Lila, "but why don't you sit on his other side?"

Jake sat on the very edge of his chair closest to Steve, and barely took his eyes off Lila the entire meal as he shoveled food into his mouth. Steve had to quietly remind him to slow down almost every five minutes. Everyone else graciously ignored his table manners.

It was good to catch up with his friends, but Steve and Jake were both worn out from a long day of traveling, so they turned in early. Laura led them to the same room Steve had stayed in the last time he was here. "I thought Jake would probably be most comfortable with you," she explained, "so I made up the cot for him."

"That's perfect, thank you," Steve said, then turned to Jake with a smile. "What do you say to Miss Laura, buddy? Can you say thank you?"

Jake looked up, startled from his careful scrutiny of the room, and said in a tiny voice, "Thank you."

Laura beamed down at him. "You're very welcome, sweetheart. Let me know if there's anything you need," she added to Steve before leaving them to settle in.

After helping Jake into his pajamas, Steve tucked him into the cot next to the window. "Good night, Jake," he murmured, kissing him on the forehead. "We don't have any recordings tonight, but try to get some good sleep, okay? We've got a big day ahead of us tomorrow."

Jake lay still and silent as he always did during this nightly ritual, just staring into space. But this time, when Steve straightened, Jake looked up at him with surprise, as if he'd expected something more.

Of course. How could he have forgotten the most important part? Steve smiled down at him and whispered, "I love you, Jake."

Jake didn't say anything in response, but he settled down under the covers, looking satisfied. Even if he didn't understand what the words meant, it seemed that Jake had grown used to hearing them every night. Without them, the routine wasn't complete.

Steve quietly got ready for bed himself, switched off the light, and slid under the covers. He glanced over at Jake before lying down, and saw the bright moonlight peeking through the blinds and reflecting on Jake's wide open eyes. Had he ever seen such a bright moon before?

Smiling to himself, Steve settled down in the bed. Everything felt different this time—the bed was too big, too empty, without Bucky to share it with him. And the room was so much quieter without Sam shuffling around in the creaky cot. Jake lay still and silent—hopefully falling asleep without too much trouble, even though they were in a new place.

The sound of his quiet breathing lulled Steve to sleep.

The next morning, Steve and Jake both woke early. Once they got dressed and went downstairs, Clint met them in the kitchen and took them outside to take care of morning chores. As they crossed the yard, Cooper and Lila thundered down the porch steps to join them.

The Bartons didn't currently have many animals, just chickens and a calf they'd recently bought, which seemed to be primarily Wanda's responsibility. She was already in the barn, speaking softly to him while Vision fetched the feed. His name was Tomi—Cooper explained that that was 'Thomas' in Sokovian, but Lila seemed convinced it was short for 'Tomato' instead. They bickered about it all the way to the chicken coop.

Jake all but clung to Steve's side as Clint led them on a tour of the farm, jumping a mile when the calf turned his head and blinked lazily at them, and staring anxiously through the fence at the chickens strutting around their coop, pecking at the food Cooper gave them. Because Jake seemed so nervous around the animals, Steve wasn't much help with the chores. He hung back at a safe distance with Jake, pointing out the various tasks the others were carrying out and doing his best to reassure him that they were perfectly safe.

Once they moved on from feeding the animals and started watering the large vegetable garden, Jake seemed to relax a little. Steve was a little nervous about how he would interact with the other kids, especially when he'd been so on edge. But as soon as Clint demonstrated how to water the vegetables and offered him a small green watering can, Jake calmed down and started carefully pouring water at the base of the tomato plants. Each time he emptied it, he wordlessly held it out to Cooper, who ran over to the rain barrel to refill it. He seemed to take comfort in the clearly defined roles each of them had to play in order to carry out this task.

"Daddy!" Lila called out, running around the corner of the house. "I can't find Lucky, Daddy!"

Clint straightened up from where he'd been weeding on his knees, pulling her in for a kiss. "You know how Lucky is, honey," he said. "He likes to wander. But I betcha he'll be back as soon as he realizes we've got guests. Or when he gets hungry for a doggy treat."

Lila pouted. "But I wanted to show him to Jake. I wanted to show him how he can shake and roll over."

"Just be patient, hon," Clint said, poking Lila's protruding lip until she smiled despite herself. "I'm sure you'll get a chance before Jake leaves. Now, why don't you go help your mom with breakfast?" He jabbed a finger at her side, sending her off with a squeal of laughter.

Steve watched the interaction with a wistful smile. He glanced down at Jake, scowling with concentration as he carefully poured the water exactly as Clint had demonstrated earlier.

A cavity opened in Steve's chest somewhere, a dark pit swirling with sadness and longing and...envy? Yes...that's what that sharp sting in his throat was. He envied the free, open affection Clint shared with his children. He watched the way Clint ruffled Cooper's hair and put an arm around his shoulders as they all headed back to the house to wash up for breakfast...and then he looked down at Jake, marching quietly at his side without a smile.

Steve hated that feeling, so he did his best to conquer it over breakfast. He ate his fill of eggs, sausages, and biscuits, and only let himself think about how comfortable and content everyone looked.

Besides, his mother always used to say that the cure for envy was to remind yourself of all the blessings you did have. Steve could sit here with his son, who was alive and well, and enjoy the company of his friends. That was enough for now.

Shortly after breakfast, Bucky called. Steve stepped out onto the porch to talk to him for a bit, telling him all about what they'd been up to. Bucky didn't have much to say, but Steve was glad to hear his voice anyway. After the call was over, he turned to go back inside and found Jake hovering uncertainly in the doorway. "Come on, buddy," he said with a smile. "Let's go help with the dishes."

For most of the rest of the morning, Clint took them on a ride in his pickup truck to see the rest of the farm. Cooper and Lila hopped into the back, inviting Jake to join them. Steve knew that Jake would probably do it if he was told to, but seeing how nervous he looked, Steve had Jake ride in the front with him instead. Clint drove slowly, so they didn't really need seat belts, but Steve kept a protective arm around Jake's shoulders all the same as they watched the corn fields rolling past out the window.

The day was shaping up to be a hot, sunny one, but the breeze through the open windows was cool. Steve could hear Cooper and Lila whistling and calling out for Lucky as they drove along, but there was no sign of the golden-haired dog.

At several points, Clint stopped the truck and they all got out to check on the fence and the irrigation system. He pointed out the tall corn stalks, explaining how to tell when the corn cobs would be ready for harvesting in the fall. Though Steve had grown accustomed to the knowledge that Clint lived on a farm, it still caught him by surprise sometimes when he realized how knowledgeable the man was in topics that had nothing to do with shooting arrows at aliens and robots.

Once they'd made a full circuit of the fields, it was time to return to the house for lunch. After the meal, they took glasses of iced tea and lemonade out onto the porch to relax in the shade.

"Come play with us, Jake!" Lila said, holding out her hand to him invitingly.

"Yeah!" Cooper cried, hopping off the edge of the porch. "We've got a tree house and a tire swing! C'mon, we'll show you!"

Jake shrank back, glancing around nervously as everyone's attention turned to him.

"Go ahead, buddy," Steve murmured encouragingly, patting him on the back. "Why don't you go on and play with Lila and Cooper? It sounds like fun, doesn't it?"

Jake's eyes darted between Steve and the kids, who eagerly beckoned to him. Slowly, hesitantly, he nodded.

"Atta boy," Steve said, gently pushing him towards Lila, who grabbed his hand and led him down the steps. "Have fun!"

Jake peeked over his shoulder as Lila led him out of sight around the corner of the house, as if checking to make sure he was doing what he was supposed to. Steve smiled and waved, hoping against hope that the kids would be able to teach him something about how to play. They would probably be better at it than him anyway.

"He's so quiet," Clint commented, watching them go. "I don't think I've heard Jake string more than two words together the whole time you've been here."

"He's observing everything," Wanda spoke up from the porch swing, where she and Vision sat. "Watching and listening, trying to figure out how things work. Bucky was the same when he was here."

Steve nodded, remembering how withdrawn Bucky had been when they went to the farm for Thanksgiving. "Jake's not much more talkative at home, though."

"Hey, enjoy it while you can," Clint laughed. "Once Jake feels comfortable enough to talk more, I bet he turns into a little chatterbox, and then you'll never have any peace and quiet."

Steve smiled weakly. He didn't think he would mind incessant questions and comments, if he could be sure that Jake felt safe and happy. "I just wish I knew what I'm doing wrong," he muttered.

"I think you're doing just fine," Laura said kindly, looking up from the shirt she was mending. "Even if it doesn't feel like it," she added when he opened his mouth to protest. "You love him, and it shows. That's what matters most in the end."

Clint gestured proudly at her. "See? My wife's a genius. I was just going to say that as long as everyone's alive at the end of the day, you can count it as a success."

Laura shot him a fondly exasperated look that spoke of their many years together.

"I guess I just...don't really feel qualified to do this," Steve admitted, looking between the two of them in the desperate hope that one of them would give him the piece of advice that would finally make everything click into place. "I didn't really have any time to prepare or even get used to the idea of being a father...and the next thing I know, I've got a four-year-old son."

Clint spread his arms wide. "Hey, I've got three kids and I still don't know what I'm doing! Each time I thought I knew what to expect, the next kid would come along and prove me wrong. Heck, I thought our family would be finished growing when Nate was born, but then guess who decided to crash the party?"

He smiled warmly at Wanda, who beamed back. Her whole face lit up; Steve had never seen such unadulterated joy in her eyes.

That's what it looks like, Steve told himself, when a father lets his child know that she's loved, and she accepts it. Oh, how he wanted that for himself.

Just then, a terrified scream split the air. Steve and Clint surged to their feet at the same time, leaping down from the porch and racing around the house to the source of the scream. Steve outstripped Clint almost immediately, sprinting around the corner in the direction the children had disappeared.

Steve spotted the tree house, and in the few seconds it took him to close the distance, he took in the rest of the scene. Cooper and Lila clung to each other at the foot of the tree, Cooper angled as if to shield his sister with his body. They both stared at Jake, who knelt on the ground a few feet away.

He was covered in blood.

Oh, God, please, no...

Steve skidded to a halt on his knees next to Jake. That was when he noticed Jake was holding a large pair of hedge clippers. They were covered in blood too, the same blood that had splashed up onto Jake's face and arms. The sharp blades were still stuck in a mass of golden fur in front of Jake.

Steve hadn't even noticed it at first. He had to stare at the bloody lump for a second before he realized what it was.

It was a large dog, sprawled in a position that indicated he had struggled before the blades stuck in his throat had cut his life short.

The Bartons' dog. Lucky.

Steve stared at Jake, who let go of the hedge clippers and looked down at his messy hands. Jake was breathing hard, eyes wide and alert, but he didn't look as scared as Steve might have expected. He just moved to wipe his hands on his shirt, then seemed to think better of it when he saw the blood splattered all over it, and gingerly wiped his hands on the grass instead.

Steve finally found his voice. "Jake...are you hurt?" he asked weakly.

Jake shook his head, then looked up at Steve expectantly. "All clear."

Steve stared down at his son. His little boy, who had just stabbed a friendly dog to death and now looked at him as if waiting for Steve to tell him he did a good job.

It was like looking at a stranger.

In half an hour, Steve and Jake were on the road. The original plan had been to return home on Tuesday, but Steve doubted either of them would be welcome after what had happened. Nor did he think he could look any of them in the eye. So he cleaned Jake off as quickly as he could, helped him change his clothes, and threw everything back into their bags.

While Jake buckled himself into his booster seat and Steve loaded their bags into the trunk, Clint hurried down the porch steps and crossed the yard towards them. Steve closed the trunk and met him halfway. His stomach squirmed in anticipation of what Clint might say, but if it was any of the dozen things he could think of that Clint had every right to say, he didn't want Jake to hear it. Jake had clearly picked up on the agitated mood of everyone around him, and had grown even more quiet and skittish than he'd already been.

"Clint...I'm so sorry..." Steve said for the fifth time. It sounded just as feeble and pointless as it had every other time. He fumbled his wallet out of his pocket. "If...If there's anything I can..."

But Clint impatiently waved away his offer. "Forget about it. He was an old dog. This was bound to happen sooner or later."

Steve doubted very much that they'd been expecting Lucky's death to come at the hands of a visiting four-year-old, but he didn't say that out loud.

"Cooper told me the whole story," Clint said. "Lucky came running up to say hi. He loves new people...he loved new people," he corrected himself quietly, gaze drifting in the direction of the tree house. "He wasn't always the best at remembering not to jump on people...and he's a big dog...so Jake must have gotten scared, and..."

Steve stared at a dark mound a short distance away from the tree house, where Clint had draped a tarp over Lucky's body for the time being. "I'm so sorry this happened," he murmured again. "I...I should have kept him with me. I should have known..."

"Hey," Clint said, turning deliberately away as if to get that dark mound out of his line of sight, "don't beat yourself up too much about this. Jake was raised by Hydra. I doubt they kept any pets. He has no idea what to do with one. I think we all should have been a little more careful, knowing that. But I totally get not wanting to always treat him like a bomb waiting to go off. That's no way to live either."

Steve nodded, unable to look Clint directly in the eye. "I suppose...you probably don't want your kids around him anymore..."

"They're a bit traumatized right now," Clint said evenly. There was no accusation in his tone, just a simple statement of fact. "We're going to have a lot to talk about. I think it's a good idea to separate them while we deal with this. But I'm not going to banish you forever because of one accident."

"Accident..." Steve finally met Clint's gaze, his heart like a leaden weight in his chest. Somehow, Clint's forgiveness made him feel even worse.

"Yeah," Clint said simply, sticking his hands in his pockets. "It was a serious accident, not one that any of us should take lightly. But I know Jake didn't understand what he was doing. It's not his fault he was raised that way." He glanced over Steve's shoulder, towards the car where Jake waited. "He needs help, Cap. You need help. This isn't something you should be dealing with on your own, even if you can. It's not safe, and it's not healthy."

"But what am I supposed to do?" Steve said, desperation making his voice rise.

"I don't know, but I think you need to find someone who does. Sooner rather than later."

Steve nodded, knowing Clint was right. That knowledge sat like a cold stone in his stomach as he said goodbye and drove back down the gravel road. This trip was supposed to be helpful and encouraging, but he felt much worse than he had the day before.

As they turned off the gravel road and back onto the pavement, Jake spoke up in a tiny voice that Steve probably wouldn't have heard without his enhanced hearing. "Steve?"

"What is it, buddy?" Steve asked gently.

"Did I do it wrong?"

Another crack joined a hundred others in Steve's heavy heart as he glanced in the rearview mirror, taking in Jake's worried expression. As horrified and anguished as Steve felt about what had happened, what hurt most of all was the knowledge that Jake obviously didn't understand why everyone was so upset.

"I'm sorry, Jake. You were probably scared, weren't you?"

"No," Jake said, a little too quickly. He hunched his shoulders a little, staring down at his hands in his lap. "I forgot to count, but I think I was faster than last time..."

Steve's heart froze. He stared unseeing at the road ahead, using all his willpower to keep his voice steady. "Last time?"

"Two hundred fifty-one seconds," Jake rattled off, as if reciting something that had been drilled into him. "East European shepherd, 39 kilograms. Two knife wounds in juggler."

Juggler... "You mean...'jugular'?" Steve asked quietly.

A sharp intake of breath. When Steve glanced in the mirror again, he saw Jake sitting very still, eyes downcast. "Yes, sir," he whispered.

Steve didn't know why he was surprised. He shouldn't be surprised, after all this time, to realize that Hydra had been teaching Jake how to kill dogs. Of course they would start him off with animals. Their ultimate goal was to turn him into an assassin, after all.

But...Jake was so young. Surely, even Hydra wouldn't have put such a small child in a pen with a vicious dog and demand that he fight for his life...right? Hydra wouldn't be so cruel...would they?

No...Steve knew they were that cruel. He'd seen evidence of that, over and over and over again. He should have known better all along. He should have expected this.

"Jake...listen to me," Steve said, picking his words carefully. "You don't need to fight or kill dogs anymore. I don't want you to kill dogs—or any other animal," he quickly added, in case they'd had him work his way up the food chain from cats or something. "I'm sorry I didn't explain that to you well enough before. But you don't have to fight anymore. We have to learn how to get along with others, and treat people well. If you're nice to another person—or an animal—they'll usually be nice to you. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Jake said, sitting very still. Steve couldn't tell if he actually understood, or if he was just giving the expected response.

They fell silent after that, as Steve pulled onto the interstate and pointed them towards home. There were no games of I Spy this time, no singing along to silly children's songs. Jake fell asleep before too long, worn out from the excitement of the day. Because of how late in the day they'd left, they would have to drive through the night to get back home, but Steve didn't think he'd have any trouble staying awake. He had far too much to think about.

As long as Steve had been taking care of Jake, and as much as he'd learned about the way Hydra had raised him, there were still so many things that caught him completely off guard. Every time he looked at Jake, he saw the little boy that he loved so much, that he wanted to protect and nurture. But that wasn't how Hydra had seen him. So instead of giving him age-appropriate challenges and encouraging him to explore the world, they had forced him into their world of violence and death, pushing him harder than anyone would normally expect of such a small person.

The incident in the park made even more sense now. Just as with Michael, Jake had seen Lucky's approach as an attack, and had swiftly responded in the only way Hydra had ever taught him. He had attacked, quickly and viciously, making sure that he was no longer in any danger.

Jake's Hydra handlers had presented him with this challenge over and over again, until he could respond as quickly as he had, with no warning or indication that he was about to be tested. That meant that Jake had been alert enough to react, to find an appropriate weapon from his surroundings and use it efficiently. Which meant that he was always alert.

That was another thing Steve realized he should have known all along. Many times, Bucky had talked about how he struggled to turn his brain off, to keep from looking for exit routes or watching random passersby to make sure they weren't carrying any weapons. Sometimes, it was related to his anxiety, but not always. Often, it was just a habit that he couldn't shake, no matter how much he wanted to relax. Bucky had told him that the only time he could truly let his guard down was when he was alone with Steve and Sam.

So of course Jake was the same. Steve looked at his son in the rearview mirror, sleeping with his head resting against the window. Only when Jake was asleep did he ever seem to relax. And that was because Hydra had taught him that he could never count on being safe.

And Steve didn't know how to fix that. Clint was right; he did need help. He just didn't know where to get it.

Steve drove on into the night, feeling very alone.

For your hands are defiled with blood
and your fingers with iniquity;
your lips have spoken lies;
your tongue mutters wickedness.

- Isaiah 59:3