Chapter Text
At 0652, the directional mike tosses up the sounds of a body shuffling, a machine engaging action (assessment: coffeemaker; secondary assessment: UGH). Three minutes later, a second set of footfalls and two male grunts. Barnes has been awake for 37 minutes, consumed an apple and two protein bars, and used the rifle’s scope to ensure no sign of (other) surveillance from this side of Wilson’s quarters. Further assessment to be made upon first opportunity.
Wilson and Rogers eat and mumble at one another about sleeping patterns. Rogers reports undisturbed sleep and no increased pain, no pain, Sam, really, “for god’s sake, I’m fine.”
ACQUIRE INFORMATION
Comply. The mission briefing contained the data that the target is known to be squirrely regarding questions about health status. Outside observation required.
Outside observation made possible at 0731, when Rogers enters Wilson’s back yard and proceeds to do a set of fucking calisthenics as if he were not just out of the hospital recovering from gunshot wounds, a beating, and a damn near drowning.
ASSIST
No damn kidding. Is the guy trying to kill himself.
“Man, are you trying to kill yourself?” Wilson says over the mike.
ASSESS: POSSIBLE MISSION ASSIST
Comply. Set task: research Sam Wilson. Preliminary assessment: approved.
Rogers continues performing a basic calisthenics routine per US Army training circa 1943 for 3 more minutes until Wilson essentially stands on him.
“Rogers, I put my ass on the line for you with SHIELD, HYDRA, and your creepy boyfriend –“
what
“What? Sam –“
“But I am not getting in trouble with Natasha on your account. That woman. Is. Terrifying.”
AVOID
Barnes scowls through the scope. Positive assessment of Wilson: decreased 26%. Rogers at least stops going pushups and follows Wilson into the house. Barnes scrolls through ringtones on his new phone (the one called “Bluegrass” is, his ears are sad to note, the banjo sound) while he listens to Rogers harangue flying Sam about how he has super healing, thank you, he is absolutely fine, and he can’t stay cooped up forever because he has things to do.
“Like what?”
“Like find Bucky.”
Barnes drops the phone. Oh jeez.
“Going on what lead?”
Barnes can hear the scowl on Steve’s face. Comes through real loud on the mike, and the sound that pops out of his own mouth might be called, by someone who wished to be torn into 8 pieces, a ‘cackle.’
“So you were planning on what, running around DC with a gut wound, hoping to just run into the dude?”
“My gut is fine, Sam.”
“You got out of the hospital yester … man, no one needs abs like that. No one who eats like you should have abs like that. It’s not right. You look like an action figure.”
“I have an action figure.”
“You have an attitude, is what you have.”
Assessment of Wilson: increased 13%.
This discussion is at least enough to keep Rogers contained for the day. Barnes inspects and cleans his lovely new guns while he listens to bickering, lunch, a movie, bickering, and a card game in which flying Sam learns that Steven G. Rogers, universal symbol for truth, justice, and the capitalist dog way, is a cheating cheater at cards.
The mission briefing he doesn’t remember knows. You do not play chess, checkers, backgammon, or any variety of card game with Mr. Sure You Can Trust Me, Look I’m Wearing the Flag. Because you will lose. You will lose your cigarette ration, even though he doesn’t smoke. You will lose the precious half a Hershey bar that you have been saving since Nantes. And on one terrible summer night deep in the Austrian woods, you and the Howling Commandos will lose your clothes. In a campsite next to a river. Filled with mosquitoes.
Rogers may need protecting, but you damn sure can’t trust the guy with your pocket change.
Barnes shudders at the onslaught of data newly accessed from the mission briefing. He has pain in the spot between his eyes. The voices over the microphone mean mission going well, mean monitoring level appropriate. Tactically adequate but inadequate on some other level: not defined. Down in the place where the echoes arise. It would be better to be closer to the voices. To be in the same room.
APPROVED
Barnes shakes his head. Refuse. A wider perimeter of surveillance/protection is more appropriate. And there are more guns to clean. And Wilson’s house is locked up tight for the night.