Blanket Excuse
A luminary clock against the sky
Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right,
I have been one acquainted with the night.
- Acquainted with the Night, Robert Frost
James pretended to be asleep for most of the lengthy drive simply to not have to speak to anyone. If they noticed, they were content to let him sulk, at least. He learned a few things during these hours, like the fact that ‘This would all be much easier if we still had jets’, a number of games beyond ‘I spy with my little eye…’ (most notably one with no apparent point or end other than being the first to spot any yellow cars, which was eventually abandoned due to lack of traffic) or the fact that by withholding his vote he could damn the entire population of the vehicle to an audiobook of The Wizard of Oz (Extended Edition).
“There is a Russian version of this.” He remarked absently after Dorothy met the cowardly lion, “There must be more than ten volumes all in all.”
“I didn’t think they’d let you read, well, anything.”
He cracked an eye open to glance at Skye and shrugged. No, they wouldn’t have. HYDRA had other concerns than the entertainment of its asset. Not that he could remember reading those books, or any books at all; it was just that the story streaming forth from the car’s sound system was familiar in a way that was too true to be fake. He knew something of what certainty felt like by now. He knew he was right, he just didn’t know how he came by that knowledge.
Well, if he’d gotten good at anything it was bottling up even the most pervasive feelings of disturbance. Especially in front of a crowd of essential strangers.
“Forget I said anything.” He muttered and adjusted his head, trying – and failing – to keep his thoughts from drifting to the place he’d left behind. You wouldn’t like him internalizing like this, but you weren’t here. And neither was Becky, who seemed to have a built in homing device that alerted her whenever he was growing more distressed than usual. Or Steve, who was, though James’ memories of him were tenuous at best, still the only connection to the person he once might have been.
The reality of it suddenly hit him like a punch to the gut. He hadn’t even said goodbye before running away like a coward in the night (and of course he couldn’t bring himself to say his goodbyes because that would have made it real, only it was real regardless). The seat belt was too tight suddenly, and it seemed to only get tighter and more suffocating the more he fumbled with it but he also can’t bring himself to stop, to give up. He barely hears the urgent calls of ‘Stop! Stop the car!’ and before he knows it he’s kneeling on the side of a highway smack dab in the middle of nowhere, forehead against the pleasantly chill metal of the van, gulping breaths fogging the black veneer. The flashes were visceral and disorienting, vivid and choppy – an old mission or several gone awry, bleeding into one, a battlefield in winter with shelling all around, mud and blood and noise, the weightless fall of the wreckage of a burning helicarrier, the chair, the damn chair with its crackling electricity and unyielding shackles, cold, seeping down into his very bones, cold, cold, cold like death…
It’s the screeching of metal on metal that finally manages to snap him back to the present. His left arm was pressed to the side of the vehicle beside his head, a pattern of dents exactly matching to his palm and fingertips and the seatbelt still tangled around it.
Well, damn. What a great start.
And then, of course, there was the pounding headache. Had his stomach not been completely empty at this point he could have added ‘puking your guts out’ to the growing list of how badly this was going. It’s the small things.
Skye moved instinctually, not even sure what she was even about to do. Put a comforting hand on his quaking shoulder? Hug him? That had worked when you did it but she had a feeling the effect wasn’t as easily transferable. It didn’t matter, because as soon as James registered the movement in his peripheral vision he flinched violently and raised his arms in defense, letting out a desperate, distressed little noise.
“Sorry! Sorry, hey, Sarge, it’s me, Skye, it’s just me.” She babbled mindlessly but in a soothing tone, trying to mimic what she’d seen you do earlier. He was still heaving shallow breath after shallow breath, shaking with one arm wrapped around himself while the other remained cautiously raised to shield him. Skye looked helplessly at the other members of her team, who had hesitantly made their way outside the vehicle after the hasty stop.
“What do we do? What do we DO?” Skye hissed, sending an imploring look at Jemma, who looked concerned and shaken, at May, who looked stoic yet sympathetic, at the men, who just looked lost. For a bunch of people who’d been through as much as they had, they were being remarkably clueless.
“I’m fine, I’m fine, I just …need a moment.” Barnes gasped next to her, still heaving but with clear eyes again. He twisted around so was sitting on the road instead of kneeling, rested his head back against the car and covered his face with both hands, forcing himself to take slower and deeper breaths.
“Let’s give Sergeant Barnes some space.” May suggested quietly, and the team trudged away, no doubt no further than the other side of the car, but it was the thought that counted. Skye made to leave, too, but he stopped her with the sheer force of his wounded puppy dog eyes.
“Stay, please. Can you …can you please stay?”
The man was something like her childhood hero after all, how could she possibly deny him? not even speaking of her promise to you. Skye flopped down beside him, leaning back against the wheel and stretching her legs out on front of her.
“You’re not fine though, are you?”
“No,” he answered after a pause, voice already a bit steadier, “I’m not …not fine as in alright, but fine as in ‘I’ll manage’.” He paused a moment to hold a breath, rubbing his eyes and temples and unfolding his legs to mirror her, then released the air with slow deliberation.
They spent some minutes just staring up at the sky, mapping out the few billowy clouds and the odd bird here and there.
“This used to be much worse.” James said, loudly enough for the rest of the team to hear. Skye didn’t really know how to respond to this, so she simply nodded. He could interpret that how he wished. He grinned humorlessly, deliberately dispelling the lingering tension from his shoulders with a couple more deep breaths.
“________ used to say that the worst was behind me, no matter how bad it felt now.” He shifted a bit, sparing her a quick glance before staring out at the wide open plain in front of them again, voice dropped back to a conversational volume. “It feels bad though, then again it feels a little less bad with every time.”
“She’s a sensible woman.” Skye supplied, unsure why he was confiding in her but willing to help. “I can count the times she was wrong about these kinds of things on one hand and I’ve known her for over twenty years.”
That, at last, drew a real smile from him, small as it was. “She is. She’s … she’s wonderful.”
Skye almost said something thoughtless about long-distance relationships, but bit her tongue at the last moment, instead mumbling a ‘Yeah, she’s the best’. She had no right to presume, and the two of you hadn’t talked about whether or not you even harbored any of those kinds of feelings (though if she knew you at all, she was pretty certain that you did), or anything beyond that. Something she would definitely need to rectify when you next spoke, she resolved.
“You okay to go on, Sarge? It’s not far to the base now.”
James nodded, already getting back to his feet, then extending a hand to help her up.
“Sorry about that.” He said to the rest of the team as they made to get back into their seats, and was collectively waved off.
“Nothing to be sorry for, Sergeant Barnes.” Coulson assured him. everyone buckled back up and they were on their way again.
They arrived at the Playground just as the sun started to set. The compound lay concealed, most of it underground though there wasn’t a sign of civilization for miles around it. Inside, they were met by a small man bordering on rotund, who had all the verve and joviality of a concierge as he handed James a laminated card on a string.
“Um, thanks?” he answered vaguely, fingers knotting into the band while he shifted the duffel bag on his shoulder.
“The director was so free as to call ahead.” The man, who had introduced himself as Agent Koenig, replied. James turned the card over in his hand. It wasn’t much, just an old photo, probably from his military records seeing as it was black and white still, his full name, the designation ‘consultant’, and a plethora of numbers and abbreviations he didn’t have the nerve to try and make sense of right now.
“Oh, you’ve got your lanyard!” Jemma exclaimed while walking by, shooting him a quick smile.
“The lanyard is paramount.” Trip declared from his other side, winking conspirationally. There was a joke here that he wasn’t getting, but he couldn’t find it in him to care much at present. He thanked Agent Koenig again with more sincerity and clutched his lanyard tightly. The two senior agents had excused themselves upon arrival, leaving him with Trip, Skye and Jemma.
“So, um, what now?” he dares ask, and just like he dared to try and defend himself earlier, even if it was just from the images in his mind, it feels strangely triumphant.
“Well, I’m wrecked honestly.” Skye starts, stretching her arms over her head, “We’ll just show you the essentials – you know: kitchen, showers, common room…”
“Definitely the kitchen. I’m starving!” Trip interjected passionately. James could definitely second that sentiment. He hadn’t really eaten anything since leaving your place.
“But first we should probably show you to your room, leave you to settle down. Besides, I promised _________ to call. You wanna talk to her, too?”
Yes, he did very much want that. He followed the young agents out of the garage and along some corridors. He tried mapping them out in his mind, to get a feeling for the layout of the facility. It’s not especially effective, but it does a little in the way of calming him in this unfamiliar environment.
The room they take him to is small and bare of any personal touches, but there’s a bed and a desk, two wall shelves and even a night stand as well as a small adjoining bathroom with all the essentials minus a shower or bathtub. He set the duffel down beside the pile of bedding and sheets and took a moment to look around. He hadn’t had a room of his own in …well, actually never really. At least not that he remembers. Certainly not at HYDRA unless one counted the cryo cell. Before that, there’d been tents or barracks during the war when they were lucky, dirt holes or the like more often than not and the occasional barn or cellar. And when he was a boy he’d shared a bedroom with his siblings, not that he’d minded that terribly, he thinks. But this is nice.
A quiet click startled him out of his reverie. He looked up to see Skye fumbling with her phone, looking a tad apologetic and a trace embarrassed.
“Sorry, I just wanna send ________ a little message. I promised to call when we arrive, but then I thought why not send her a photo? As evidence, if you will. What say you?”
James pointed at himself wordlessly, raising his eyebrow in question. Skye shrugged, growing flustered.
“Yeah, no, forget I asked. It’s just she can be a bit of a worry wart and I know she’d like to know you got here alright.”
He stepped back out of the room, eyeing the cell phone curiously as he slipped the lanyard’s string over his head absently.
“No, its …it’s a good idea. How do we …?”
“Oh, shush, I’ll take it, I’ll take it.” Jemma eventually acquiesced, taking the device from Skye’s nervous hands and telling them where to stand. James found himself smiling softly when he thought of you, even though the strain of the previous days was really starting to catch up to him.
“We can still call her though, right?” he asked after Jemma had snapped the picture and it had passed Skye’s scrutiny. He wanted to hear your voice, make sure you were holding up alright and most of all safe.
“Sure, yeah, of course.” Skye muttered absently while typing a message to go along with the photos.
“Dinner first!” Trip all but whined, clutching at his stomach dramatically. “Man, I hope Mack made some mac’n’cheese while we were gone.”
It turned out Mack did, and there were leftovers aplenty.
After James and Skye had left with the other agents, Sam and Steve stayed awhile to keep you company. Though in Steve’s case you guessed he needed it as much as you did, perhaps more. You couldn’t imagine one afternoon and a dinner invitation would cut it. Eventually, they left, leaving you to half a night of fitful sleep frequently interrupted by dejected wailing.
“I know, B. I miss him, too.” you told the cat, who looked at you with big sorrowful eyes before launching into another crying fit.
The next day was spent mostly moping and cleaning to distract yourself from moping, comforting your distressed cat, and trying not to drown in the sudden emptiness of your apartment.
Since you had no idea where that secret base was, and therefore how long it would take them to arrive there, you kept your phone close at all times, checking it frequently, but all you got were a few updates from Sam, who was busy laying red herrings with Steve.
Eventually, Monday rolled back around and you had to go back to work. You tried to pretend that nothing was wrong, but Pam called you out on it.
“Did he dump you? Because if he did I am going to kick his perfect ass.” That, at last, made you grin. Pam had that effect on people.
“I told you we’re not together. He just …he had to leave eventually. I’ll be fine.”
“If you say so, boss…”
And then, there was a curt e-mail from your boss.
‘You have some nerve,’ it read, ‘And the worst is, I can’t even chew you out because I would have pretty much done the same. Just don’t think you’re getting off the hook that easily.’ There was a long list of attachments, all of them highest priority work assignments. You sighed. At least that would keep you busy and therefore distracted for a while.
It wasn’t until later one evening that your phone finally hummed showing Skye’s caller ID.
‘Finally there,’ it read, ‘only one small meltdown on the road, but he says he’s fine. Also, I think he likes his room.’ There was a photo of James attached. He was standing in a small, furnished room looking pensive. ‘Going to have some dinner now. Call you for real in abt an hour?’ The second photo seemed to have been taken by another person. It showed Skye and James standing side by side in front of that same room, both looking tired but were smiling. You wanted, so much, to just dial the number and call right now, but you paced yourself and only typed out a reply.
‘Call whenever ready, I’ll wait. Enjoy dinner. Can I forward your message to Steve? He’ll want to know.’
‘Sure, just reached kitchen.’ Attached was another photo, obviously covertly taken, of James sitting with a full plate and listening to Jemma with polite attention. ‘Talk to you soon. Have a feeling Sarge won’t let me forget it.’
You grinned, already feeling a lot lighter than you had the previous few days, and sent back a few emojis before forwarding the first text and photos to Steve.
James was finding it increasingly difficult to keep his eyes open, but the thought of hearing your voice again helped him through dinner. Thankfully there was no one else in the kitchen when they arrived; he was already highly strung enough as it was without the added stress of dealing with even more strangers. That would start the next day, as well as a number of medical tests.
“Nothing invasive,” Jemma had assured him, “I would just like to establish what they did to you.” And since that was something he was more than interested in himself, he resolved that he could do it even if it scared him. After their meal, Jemma and Trip excused themselves and Skye took him back to his room and helped him put on the sheets and bedclothes.
“No, honestly, how many blankets can you possibly need?” Skye exclaimed emphatically after straightening the edge of blanket number six. James shrugged. The compound held a kind of perpetual chill due to being underground but even more than that he needed to compensate for being alone, not that she needed to know that at this point.
“Have you ever been frozen, Agent Skye?” he said instead, “Not just cold, but actually frozen solid, with ice in your veins and frost on your skin? Because I am intimately familiar with the sensation.” He could still feel it sometimes, even now, and without even the surprisingly warm feline company of Becky he would have to make do.
“Whoa, intense. Okay, point taken. Now let’s ring up ________ so we can all go to sleep.” Skye replied, yawning demonstratively as she hit dial and put her phone on speaker. It barely rang a second time before you picked up.
“Hey, hello, good evening!” you sounded just a tad out of breath, which was due to you all but lunging for your phone because when it finally did ring you had left it lying on the coffee table and gone to pour yourself something to drink.
“Hey ________, you’re on speaker.”
“Oh, okay. You there too, Jamie?”
“I’m right here.” He said, his voice sounding strange even to his own ears.
“Well, it’s late and you guys must be exhausted. I just wanted to know that you got there alright. I don’t mean to keep you.”
“Yeah, I mean I know I am. Basically doing nothing but sitting in a car all day shouldn’t be as tiring as it actually is, and I managed to take a nap every now and then, unlike some.” Skye gave him a pointed look at this, making James deflate a bit. Seemed like his acting skills weren’t quite as up to par as he’d hoped. He started practicing right then and there by pretending to be unfazed by the comment. You sighed, and he could just about picture your expression. Then there was a thump and a wailed meow, along with a startled yelp from you.
“_______, everything okay?” he shot up, as if he could do something from hundreds of miles away.
“Yeah, it’s just Becky. She’s been crying basically non-stop since you left. I think her little kitty heart is broken. She must have heard your voice.” Another woeful meow accentuated your words. James gulped hard. He missed the both of you already and he wasn’t even sure when the little furball had taken up residence in his heart. But strangely he already knew that it would be next to impossible to sleep without that solid feline weight on his chest, her fluffy tail swishing across his face every so often during the night.
He made the mistake of speaking, causing another distressed cat whine to erupt through the line, louder than the ones before. Skye had actually begun to drift off, and jarred awake at the shrill sound. James felt slightly guilty to be keeping the young woman up and half considered asking to borrow the phone so he could talk to you more, but he’d already asked for the extra blankets and these people had done so much for him with no expectation of reward that he didn’t dare.
“Well, I just wanted to check in. Thanks for calling. Maybe we can talk longer tomorrow?” you seemed to have picked up on Skye’s exhausted state as well; you were probably tired yourself seeing as it was rather late at night by this point.
“Sounds good, ________. We’ll figure something out. Sweet dreams!” Skye said quickly, suppressing another yawn. James barely had time to get his goodbyes in and then the line was dead. Skye rose unsteadily, wishing him a good night when she reached the door.
“My room is just two doors down the hall, if you need anything. Good night.”
James thanked her and not a minute later he found himself completely alone again, trying to quiet his frantic mind. He was tired out both physically and mentally, but the stress of being in an unfamiliar place among strangers did little to calm him. He did eventually drift off into a sound, dreamless sleep though.
The next day found him following Jemma down to her lab after a hearty breakfast and a quick tour of the compound. There was no one else in the lab when they entered, save for a young man sat on a workbench at the very back who looked mildly spooked by their presence.
“That’s Fitz, he’s in charge of engineering here.” His eyes darted up to them when Jemma spoke, only to turn back to the small piece of machinery he was fidgeting with a moment later. Jemma sighed.
“Fitz!” she spoke up, “This is Sergeant Barnes. At least say hello.”
At this he started, but trod over dutifully.
“Leo Fitz, engineering. Hello.” He said hesitantly, voice quavering around the unmistakable Scottish accent. It seemed to James that he was struggling to form the words.
“Pleased to meet you.” James answered politely. Fitz shrugged, unable to meet either of their eyes.
“I’ll …I’ll be, um, over at, um, …” he gestured vaguely down the hall, then stepped away abruptly, leaving Jemma looking quietly devastated. She tried to downplay it by shuffling through the things on her desk, which included several papers about neurology. James picked up one by a Doctor Strange before it could fall to the floor.
“So, um, how exactly…”
“Well, I would like to do the full medical works, but it’s a bit much to do in one day. I thought we’d start easy with me taking some blood and x-rays…”
She went on to explain the procedures she wanted to do, and James already felt his heart rate quickening, the anxiety rising at the back of his throat.
“Hey – hey, Sergeant Barnes? Are you quite alright?” her small hand placed bravely on his arm grounded him enough to pull him back from spiraling down the rabbit hole of his memories. He was almost embarrassed; Dr Simmons and her cluttered lab had next to nothing in common with the people who had treated him like nothing but a test subject, and yet the simple association was apparently enough to send him spinning.
“Would it help if I talked you through it?” Jemma asked sympathetically after maneuvering him into a seat. He swallowed hard and nodded.
“Okay, good. You can always tell me to stop if it becomes too much, I mean that.”
James nodded again, gratefully this time. He could do this. He could be brave enough for a few simple medical tests. HYDRA didn’t own him anymore and this was currently his best shot at finding out what they’d done to him.
Dr Simmons did a plethora of tests – physical, cognitive, testing reactions and reflexes – most of it was simple and she seemed quite optimistic over his results. She also did a number of scans, the results of which wouldn’t be available until a few days later. By lunchtime, he was thoroughly spent despite not having done all that much. They had lunch together and after that Coulson asked him into his office for a briefing. Thankfully their ideas about what James would be doing here were largely in line, mostly because James had no concept of the kind of work that was required. He would mostly work with Skye and Agents May and Triplett, going through old paperwork and new leads alike, as well as the data from the files that had been released to the public during the fall of SHIELD. Even if the material didn’t jog his memories he could still be useful in sighting, and in some cases, translating the documents.
He was also introduced to the remaining agents at the base. There were less than he’d anticipated, and not all of them field agents, which was a security concern in case the base was attacked.
“Would you like to say a few words, Sergeant Barnes?” Coulson turned to him after making his introductions, effectively startling him out of his musings on defensive planning. James shrunk a bit under the gazes directed at him. Most of the faces were neutral and none outright hostile, but he was under no illusion that these people had no reason to trust him. He knew he would have been wary had he been in their place.
“Um, sure,” he stepped forward, clearing his throat. Skye sent him a little thumbs up. “I realize this must be a lot to take in – I know it was for me –“ some chuckling. That was good, right? “I also realize that none of you really got a choice about having me dumped into your midst, but I promise that I will do whatever I can to help you bring down HYDRA, so, um, thanks for having me.”
“You did well.” Agent May graciously admitted later, and since she didn’t seem like the kind of woman to dole out praise indiscriminately, he felt a lot better after she said it. Really, all in all the remaining SHIELD agents did their utmost to make him feel welcome, which was more than he could ever have asked for.