Chapter 3
They have been driving vaguely towards Pittsburgh since leaving the hotel that morning. Barnes hasn’t said a word about where he wanted to go or what he was planning on doing since Clint basically ran into him on the street. The one time he attempted to ask hadn’t gone so well which made him a little gun shy about asking a second time. Clint was fairly certain that Barnes simply wasn’t sure yet himself. Which was, fair actually. He’d been under someone else’s thumb ( HYDRA’s, his handlers’s, whoever the fuck decided to make him into a cyborg ) for so long that managing his own life had to be pretty difficult.
Clint still had no desire to to go to Pittsburgh, a place he’d never been before but whose name alone didn’t hold any appeal to him. He also wasn’t sure what there would hold any sort of appeal to Barnes. He knew the man wanted to sort out his head, or whatever. Maybe he didn’t actually know where was the best place for that but he hoped it wasn’t Pittsburgh.
Through the course of the drive that day Clint couldn’t help himself from stealing glances at Barnes. The man for the most part sat quietly and stilly in the passenger seat. Sometimes he saw something and that caused him to move. But most of the time when Clint looked over Barnes had his eyes fixed on the rear-view mirror and his flesh hand curled under his chin. It looked relaxing to anyone who wasn’t paying that close of attention. But he could see the tension curled tightly across Barnes’ shoulders, the way his jaw was set that made his own ache in sympathy, and the fact that his eyes were cold and hard as if expecting the worst to happen.
A few times he considered assuring Barnes that everything was fine. The blow-up of SHIELD and HYDRA would keep almost everyone too busy to look for them. Especially in the literal middle of nowhere. But he knew that didn’t make them safe. Safe was relative and Clint knew how quickly things could go from seemingly safe to an utter shitshow. So he wasn’t going to patronize Barnes by telling him he was safe.
But he was really close to telling him to loosen up a little, he was seriously getting muscle cramps just looking at him.
He waited until they needed to get gas to actually say anything. Pulling into the petrol station he placed the nozzle into the gas tank before rounding to Barnes’ side of the car. Knocking on his window he waited impatiently for him to roll it down. He swore that Barnes did it as slow as possible just to annoy him.
“Soooo,” Clint started, realizing mid-sentence he hadn’t thought of exactly what he wanted to say. “Have you given any thought to where exactly we are going?” He questioned, looking expectantly down at Barnes. He really hoped for an answer this time.
Barnes pressed his lips together for a moment, clearly thinking, before answering. “I need to know more about myself, HYDRA bases will have information on me.” He blinked and then looked away from Clint. “About what they did to me.” He clarified, his voice dropping lower.
It made sense, Clint thought, that Barnes would want to know exactly what he been done to him over all these years. If anyone would have information about him it would be HYDRA. That didn’t stop him from getting a bad feeling about going anywhere near HYDRA when they were in such a heightened state.
“Okay. That’s a workable plan.” Clint agreed, looking away from James when the tell-tale click of the gas not filling anymore cut through the silence. “Do you know where any of the bases are?” He asked over his shoulder while putting the nozzle back.
“A few. A lot of it is blurry still.” Barnes replied, leaning forward so Clint could hear him as he spoke.
Clint himself didn’t know how to find HYDRA bases on his own. They didn’t necessarily need to do it on their own. “Make a list of places you remember, we can cross-check with the information Natasha dumped online and then go from there?” He suggested with a shrug. James’ memory was bound to be the best place to start. He had actually been to these bases before. There was no telling what all HYDRA kept deep in SHIELD’s databanks - base locations were possible, but that seemed rather risky when SHIELD had plenty of agents who weren’t loyal to HYDRA working there as well. Unless Clint was overestimating how many not-evil co-workers he had.
The gas was paid for, copious amounts of snacks and beverages were bought, and then Clint started the car back up. They were still heading towards Pittsburg, but at least there was a plan in place. Sort of.
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He can’t help but notice when Barnes writes something down in one of his notebooks. He’s driving, so of course his full attention is on the road. Except for when it isn’t. Like when there’s the soft scratch of a pen against paper coming from right next to him and he can’t resist the urge to look over and try to catch a glimpse of what Barnes is writing. But the notebook is angled in such a way that he can only see that there is writing, and not decipher any of the actual words on the page. He’d have to crane his neck far too obviously in order to actually see anything and he wouldn’t put it past Barnes to hit him from being so obvious.
Clint considers asking outright what Barnes is writing down. He can already imagine the shuttered look on his face and the dead silence that would follow for hours after he did so. Which meant that was a definite no. He hadn’t gotten Barnes to loosen up completely but he thought he was getting there. Sort of. Doing things that pestering him about his secrets would likely destroy all of the work that he had put forth so far. So instead he suffered in silence. Well, near-silence. His fingers tap unerringly against the steering wheel as he tries to keep himself occupied.
It is well past midday and traffic is starting to pick up on the road. Meaning that Clint has to pay more attention to driving than he does Barnes. Not necessarily a bad thing. But it seems as soon as he does that, is when Barnes starts to demand attention.
“There are bases in South America, ones that have information without being right in the heart of HYDRA territory,” he said out of nowhere when Clint had just finished cursing out a minivan that had cut him off when he tried to get into the passing lane.
The sudden sound of Barnes’ voice after hours of silence would have made a lesser man jerk in surprise, Clint just slams harder than he meant to on the horn. Once the sound fades he quickly turned his head towards him. “Yeah?” He questioned before turning back to focus on the road. Five o’clock traffic meant having to really keep his eyes on his road. No attempted peaks at whatever Barnes was doing.
“I need a map to find the exact locations of the bases. It's been a long time, I think.” Barnes’ voice is unsure and there’s a tinge of frustration in his tone as well. “The big bases will be in Europe, but they’ll be more likely to have agents still in them.”
He didn’t want to go try and fight HYDRA on their own. Even if he would generally put his money on the guy who beat the crap out of Captain America in a fight, it was still a stupid idea. “So let’s start in South America.” He agreed with a shrug, his eyebrows stull furrowed in concentration from the road. “We can work on our tans, hunt down evil neo-Nazis, and figure out how to get into their European bases without needing a tank - or a Hulk.” He could feel that Barnes looked at him as he rambled off his answer. Mentally he amended it to not include the tan, or probably the Hulk.
“Okay, so we’ll only work on our tans if there’s time.” He agreed, sounding reluctant despite the fact that Barnes hadn’t say anything. But he swore he could feel the eye roll that his words elicited from him with his joke.
Seriously though, he did want to lay outside in the sun for a few hours if they were going to be in South America. Unless they were in the mountainous parts, then he’d hide inside and let Barnes do all of the trekking around outside. Clint figured he would broach the subject once they actually got to South America. Considering Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania was about as far from South America as you could metaphorically get he wasn’t going to focus too much on that.
Thrilled at the prospect of getting out of traffic Clint turned at the next exit, glad to find the road was barren in comparison to the highway they had been on. “Do you need a paper map, or would Google Maps work instead?” He questioned, keeping his eyes out for some place that could supply both of those things just in case James needed, or wanted, both.
“Either,” Barnes answered immediately. “A computer might be traceable.” He sounded hesitant at the idea of getting a computer and dragging it with them.
“No one is going to pay attention to a computer searching on Google Maps, people do that all the time.” Clint wasn’t going to say they wouldn’t be traced. Considering how sketchy government agencies were becoming he definitely thought that their computer activity was being logged somewhere. He felt bad for whoever had seen his, all of the stupid questions he Googled and videos of old Vine compilations he watched to the point that their hilarity should have been exhausted. It wasn’t.
“Seems risky.” Barnes sounded put-off by the idea, but Clint took the lack of argument as agreement to getting a computer. He knew they’d have a much better chance finding anything with a computer than they would a paper map. Not to mention Clint had a few basic encryption skills to keep them from being immediately found out by someone who was trying to see who would be stupid enough to try and track down HYDRA bases in their free time.
That of course, meant another trip to Walmart.
When Clint pulled into the parking lot and shut off the car, he couldn’t help but laugh at the scrunched up expression on Barnes’ face. His entire demeanor telegraphed a lack of of desire to go into the cavernous store, from his crossed arms to the way his shoulders were pulled forward almost protectively.
“Why are we here again?” Barnes demanded, his voice low and displeased as he turned his glare away from the Walmart to Clint instead.
“Because it has computers,” he answered happily, shoving the set of keys into his pocket. “And probably a book of maps, whatever that’s called - an Atlas?” Clint guessed, shrugging as he grabbed his burner phone from the center console. He had to bite back the comment about his previous phone having the ability to do all of what they needed. At this point he’d just be doing it to annoy Barnes and that wouldn’t end well for either of them.
Despite his earlier reluctance Barnes gets out of the car and Clint is able to lock it without too much more cajoling.
The store is pretty busy, early evening when most people are getting off work prime Walmart-shopping time apparently. That is to their benefit, even if Barnes - who is giving off murder vibes - doesn’t seem to realize that. No one is going to be paying attention to them when some soccer mom with a terrible haircut is bitching about coupons. Clint grins widely as he snatches up a basket, swerving his way through the carts and families blocking off the wide aisles of the store.
Barnes is always right at his back. A shadow that seems to make people move before him. Clint considered putting him in front, but he’s a bit concerned that Barnes might stab someone. So he continued to lead the way.
The back of the store boasted a decently large electronics section. That’s where Clint headed for first. This time they weren’t sidetracked by the kiddie-sized Captain America apparel, mostly because Clint purposed avoided that area. Once more he was selfishly relieved to not have to deal with a break-down in the middle of Walmart. They wouldn’t be the first people to do that - but they didn’t need that sort of attention.
Clint got distracted near the movies, eyeing up the new releases with some interest. Apparently too much interest.
“Can you hurry up?” Barnes’ voice was low and close to his ear, causing Clint to jerk forward and bite his cheek in his surprise.
“Jesus christ - can you make noise?” Clint complained, shifting his basket over his arm as he glared at Barnes who seemed completely nonplussed.
He muttered to himself about silent assassins and giving him a heart attack the entire short walk towards the computers.
The selection isn’t very large, but they don’t need anything too fancy. Clint isn’t a computer expect so he isn’t entirely sure what he should be looking for. Usually he grabbed the computer that looked the most durable and ended up stepping on it and breaking it far sooner than he cared to admit.
So he walked the aisle and furrowed his eyebrows to try and look like he knew what he was doing.
Barnes let him walk up and down the aisle twice before speaking up.
“Will you pick one?” Barnes is right behind him again, looking over his shoulder at the line of maybe a dozen laptops.
Clint is pretty sure the inside of his cheek is going to be bleeding for days with how much he’s bitten it today. He turned to look over at Barnes and ask him to calm down, but he can immediately see how irritated and uncomfortable he is. He didn’t blame him, but it wasn’t like he could make Walmart a less irritating place to be, either.
So he decides to give him a break and picked a mid-priced laptop that seems to have everything they want and advertises a long battery life. He has to harass a sixteen year old employee off his phone in order to open the case for them but they do manage to get the laptop, which finally makes Barnes look less murderous.
“Good, let’s go,” Barnes mutters, walking past Clint towards the front of the store.
Aw, he’s learning how Walmart works, Clint thinks warmly.
He trails after Barnes at a slower pace. He likes to look at the amazing goods inside of Walmart after all. Walking so slow also has the advantage of Barnes not being able to look at what he’s doing. That’s how a couples more hoodies end up in his basket, he didn’t pack nearly enough clothing for a world-wide adventure.
Trailing behind also meant that when he saw a black cat collar with a bell on it, that he impulsively dropped it into the basket as well. He couldn’t say why other than it just seemed necessary.
Barnes sulked next to him once they reached the self checkout and seemed far more focused on the exit than what Clint was scanning in - which works for his benefit. One bag holds their new laptop and the other the three sweatshirts and cat collar. He makes sure to shove the receipt in his pocket so that Barnes can’t see it and figure out what he’s doing.
“Ready to go?” He questions cheerfully, shoving the bag with the laptop at Barnes.
“About twenty minutes ago, yeah,” Barnes responds, his voice tight as he stomps to the exit.
Clint can’t help but smirk as he follows after. “We weren’t even in the store for twenty minutes you drama queen.” The look he gets in response is particularly toxic, and his only response is to smile wider and try to look as non threatening as possible.
Barnes’ eyeroll is particularly violent, but that’s the only violence he uses so Clint counts it as a win.
Bags dropped into the backseat of the car, Clint pulls out of the Walmart parking lot and in the same direction they were heading before. They get onto the highway before traffic slows to a crawl.
“So...are we still going to head north if our actual destination is south? Not that I don’t love driving in bumper to bumper traffic into the heart of steel country.” Clint rests his chin on the steering wheel, seeing that they weren’t going to be going anywhere anytime soon. Which meant it was the perfect time to harass Barnes with more talking.
Sometimes he sincerely worries about his lack of self-preservation instinct.
There’s a moment of silence before Barnes responds. “It doesn’t look like we have much of a choice right now.”
Clint snorts in agreement before sitting up straight. “Wait, was that a joke? Did you just tell a joke?” He prods, mouth open with amazement that wasn’t tempered in the least by the chilly look that Barnes fixes him with.
“No.”
Undeterred, he grins. “Too bad, that was funny.” His grin only wides when he swears he sees one of Barnes’ eyebrows twitch.
“We don’t need to keep moving north, but I can’t say where exactly we are going until I look at a map and you forgot to buy an Atlas,” Barnes explains, his expression flat tas he reminds Clint now that he didn’t buy one of the two things they went inside Walmart for.
Clint shrinks down in his seat slightly. “Why didn’t you remind me? Or go buy it yourself?” Probably because Barnes doesn’t have money, he reminds himself. But he resolutely does not mention that he remembers that. He’s already embarrassed that he forgot the Atlas, he doesn’t want to make it worse.
“It doesn’t matter now, just focus on finding us somewhere to stop.” Barnes turns away from him then, resting an elbow on the door as he looks out the window.
He finds himself casting a lingering look at the back of Barnes’ head. For a few moments there things were almost companionable. Now they’ve lapsed back into the sort of silence where he isn’t sure if he’s allowed to break it or not.
Baby steps, he reminds himself, he has to do this in baby steps.
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They end up stopping at a roadside motel that advertises free internet and has a Cracker Barrel right next to it. Barnes isn’t nearly as enthused as Clint is as the prospect of good, hot meal. But he seems to approve of the free internet. So Clint declares it a win.
Since the motel is rather deserted they are able to get a room with two beds, something that makes Clint breath a sigh of a relief. He doesn’t want to sleep on the floor of any motel and he wasn’t going to try and strong arm the Winter Soldier into sleeping on the floor instead of a bed. He lacked a sense of self preservation he wasn’t suicidal.
Barnes takes out the laptop and immediately hands it to him before he’s able to take off his shoes. “Set it up,” he states before disappearing into the bathroom. A few seconds later the sound of the shower turning on tells Clint that it was more of an order than a request.
“Yeah, sure, happy to help Barnes,” he mutters to himself as he takes a seat at the dinky table shoved against the wall.
Setting up the laptop only takes a few minutes, and he uses a spoof e-mail address to set up the account. The water is still running once he’s done, and Clint doesn’t know if he should wait there for Barnes to come out or not. The minutes creep by and the water still doesn’t turn off, so he decides to take the proactive step in going to buy them food.
Despite Barnes telling him that he knew how to hotwire a car, he still takes the keys with him.
He doesn’t know exactly what Barnes likes to eat, so Clint goes with the classic staple of a cheeseburger and fries. And then gets three because he’s seen the way Steve eats and has a nagging feeling that one won’t be enough. The waitress at the front gives him an odd look at his order of three burgers and a meatloaf meal but doesn’t question it. He thanks the heavens for restaurants like this where oddballs not unlike himself come through all the time. No one cares when a lone man orders four meals.
When he returns to the motel room he makes sure to make plenty of warning noise as he opens the door, but there’s still a cool gaze fixed on him when he walks in and more importantly and handgun.
Clint makes an aborted attempt to raise his hands, but they are full of food and keys. “I come in peace, and with food.” The gun lowers from his face but those stormy eyes don’t.
“You left,” Barnes points out as he sets the gun back on the table next to the laptop and goes back to typing.
He notices how careful Barne is with the computer and it leads to the realization that he’s taking great pains to not break it. Clint wishes he would have done that with his cellphone as well, but knows there’s no use in lingering over that now. That can wait until they are stuck in a car or other vehicle together and Barnes can’t kill him for fear of them crashing.
“Yeah, well you were hogging the shower and I figured your super soldier appetite was acting up,” he says while dropping the larger bag of food on the table next to Barnes. He takes his own over to the bed furthest from the door.
On the way there he thinks he might hurt a murmured “Thanks,” from Barnes, but realizes there’s no way. He taps one of his hearing aids, wondering if they are acting up.
They eat in comfortable silence that is punctuated by the sound of Barnes tapping on the keyboard and the dull murmur of voices from the television that Clint is halfwatching. Sometime after that he finds himself drifting off, full and convinced that if anything happens Barnes will wake him up.
Sometime later, when it was completely dark and the television was now turned off, Clint rolls over in his sleep and the uncomfortable press of his hearing aid wakes him up - at least partially. His eyes crack open to see Barnes hunched over on his bed, the laptop screen dim but lit up and the notebooks open around him.
“Didja find something?” He questions, his voice slurred from sleep.
“Yes.”
Clint nods, glad to hear the answer even if he isn’t entirely sure why. “Where we - ah - going?” A yawn interrupts his sentence and almost immediately his eyes start closing once more. Driving all day was more exhausting than he realizes in the moment.
There’s a pause and the laptop gets shut, effectively extinguishing the rest of the light in the room. “It can wait for tomorrow, sleep.” Barnes’ voice is soft but firm, he doesn’t sound like he’s going to put up with any more of Clint’s questions.
He can’t find a reason to argue against sleeping and just nods, shifting his head so that he’s no longer pressing against his hearing aid. “Okay, good plan, sleep is great.” His eyes close completely at that, and his last semi-conscious thoughts were that he didn’t check the perimeter before bed, followed by the realization that he could leave keeping them alive to Barnes for now.