2248/Awkward Preparations

Awkward Preparations
Date of Scene:	30 August 2017
Location:	West Harlem - Mercy's Garage
Synopsis:	Sam, Fred, Mercy and the Winter Soldier discuss next steps. There are plenty of mental and verbal landmines to avoid while the four begin to plan Claire's rescue.
Cast of Characters:	Mercy Thompson, Sam Winchester, Winifred Burkle, Winter Soldier
Tinyplot:	Tayaniye

---

Mercy Thompson has posed:
Night has settled. It's the time that people can usually be found asleep. For the majority of businesses around Mercy's Garage that's true. For the people within the garage it's anything but.

While the main group has dispersed to other areas of the garage from within the main garage proper, there are still some within that main room. Mercy Thompson happens to be one of them. She's at one of the cabinets that sits near those work benches of hers and from within the depths she pulls out a large roll of paper. It's graphing paper, something she uses when she's rebuilding cars, or other vehicle parts. The roll of paper will be set upon a nearby workbench along with a couple of pencils and a marker.

And while some of the group whole-heartedly believes that the Mind Stone has worked and the Winter Soldier is now Bucky, there are those that still have worries. Doubts. As such, Mercy Thompson makes sure to only leave when another is within the garage. So that /someone/ is always around to keep an eye upon him.

And when no one else is around then the coyote can be found right there, watching. Mostly unobtrusively, but still there. This time, however, she has questions and now she'll voice them. "Can you sketch the layout of the area for us? It'll help us plan." Her voice is slightly stilted, her words slow, and to note she has yet to call him any type of name. Because, really, what should she call him? Winter Soldier, obviously not, Bucky, no, James - maybe? Maybe.

Sam Winchester has posed:
There is, perhaps, a little irony in the fact that Sam is the one (aside from Steve, his childhood friend) who was willing to accept James Barnes as James Barnes pretty much right away.

Maybe it's the compassion which largely defines him.

Maybe it's the childhood hero worship, which he isn't particularly embarrassed about even with the whole group knowing everything.

Maybe it's all the strange things he's encountered in his lifetime, things which have prepped him well for the idea that someone can be made to become someone or something else.

Maybe it was feeling bits of himself erode around the edges in a damp, cold prison cell while people called him some other name, knowing how little it took for him to move from one position to another-- a position of 'I don't really want to talk about this' to 'ok, ok, whatever it takes.' Maybe it's a good imagination that extrapolates 20 days of treatment that was, given the description of the straits Claire had found Sergeant Barnes in with Mercy's help, mild compared to what this man went through for decades.

Or maybe it's just bull-goose stubbornness, because once Sammy truly decides something, he decides, and there's very little going back or talking him down. Sometimes this works for him, and sometimes it causes disasters which have to run their course before he can be swayed.

He sits, straddling a chair nearby, his long legs splayed out as he rests his arms over the back of it, looking earnestly in James' direction to see what the answer will be.

Winifred Burkle has posed:
Near the back, Fred leans against a wall. Her arms are crossed and her attention shifts between Sam, Mercy and Barnes. While she may be able to accept the fact that Barnes was brainwashed and the Mind Stone helped to wipe that away, she remains skeptical of him. What he did to Sam still happened and as far as she is concerned he is not off the hook for that. There's, also, the matter of him almost killing her a few nights ago.

She does, however, recognize that he his needed to rescue Claire. They have little hope of accomplishing it without him. And so, much like Sam has felt the need to do so often, she remains in the background for the moment - ready to protect him from Bucky Barnes should it come down to it.

Whatever is in store for them in the future is not certain, but it's clear she does not trust this man. It's possible he may run off and attempt something on his own. Or, this may all still be an elaborate ploy. Only close observation will tell for certain.

Winter Soldier has posed:
Bucky hasn't left the main area where he was previously chained, that's for sure. After his initial fury and frenzied attempts to leave, he seems to have finally registered that running off unarmed and completely out of sorts probably isn't the best way to save Claire, and has made no further attempts to escape, or to resist being moved around, or... done much of anything, really.

Mostly, he's just sat in staring silence in a quiet dark corner. At some point, he started shivering uncontrollably, which likely had nothing to do with the actual temperature, but someone brought him an old blanket anyway, which is wrapped about his shoulders.

He hasn't really been responsive to most previous attempts to speak to him. His mind is already strained to full load, just trying to understand and comprehend the truth after eight decades of lies. He is so... /used/ to his false life, his fake history -- he built a complete sense of confidence and self around it -- that it is hard for him to wrap his head around the fact it was just a story told to him. Hard to understand that his life was a lie, and his real one was taken from him for so long.

It is hard for him to accept, returned now to the person he is supposed to be, the things he /did/ as that falsified man. They all run counter to his most basic nature.

It takes several hours, and Mercy asking him to actually /do/ something, for him to finally respond. Even then, it's slow. There is no reaction at first, before a tremor runs through him and he lifts his head. Slowly he draws to a stand, clutching the blanket more tightly about himself. "Yes," he answers, his voice a rasp. He starts to draw closer -- then hesitates, as if not certain whether he's allowed to go near anyone.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
Wherever his confiscated weapons are stored they stay there. For now, Mercy isn't allowing them back in his sights. Not yet.

No matter that they will eventually need to be returned to him.

His slow response to her question causes the coyote to look at Sam and then Fred. The two such polar opposites of each other right now. It doesn't matter that Fred is staying within the background, Mercy can smell the distrust emanating from the other woman. Almost Mercy sighs at this whole crazy thing, but priorities. There are so many priorities. The main one being Claire.

With that thought the mechanic turns her attention to the man who so recently thought himself a Russian agent. A length of the paper will be unrolled on the workbench and secured with two pieces of tape. And while there is sympathy for what she can read from the Winter Soldier, especially from his scent, there's still hesitancy from Mercy when she picks up that pencil. It's a half-a-second pause, but it's likely easy to see as Mercy has a very quick internal debate with herself about sharp implements. Eventually common sense (otherwise how will he draw) wins out and she offers it to him. "Exits, entrances and anything else that might help us." Then, seeing his own hesitation Mercy nods. She even motions him closer just in case the nod of hers wasn't enough.

To the assembled group Mercy says, "What are you guys thinking about planning? I don't think the answer is an all-out assault. We're going to have to be sneaky - there's just too few of us."

Sam Winchester has posed:
"Sneaky," Sam agrees quietly. "I know May brought the Quinjet--"

A bit of coolness that Sam couldn't help but take a moment to go explore like a 5-year old child, a bit of coolness that has him thinking about SHIELD yet again--

"But I don't think shooting missiles at bits of New York is cool, and that could get Claire killed. I wish we had a way to create some protections over her while we go in. But...if Liam can obscure the nature of what we did here awhile longer they might not know what we did." An apologetic look to Bucky. "We've gotta sneak, bluff, and talk our way in as close as we can somehow, and get out as fast as we can. And it's going to be a slim chance either way."

He is aware of Fred's protective presence behind him, aware that she's unhappy with this entire scenario. He looks over his shoulder and shoots her an apologetic look. He's provided Fred's brow with plenty of reasons to furrow of late. In a way, it's a good balance though, her caution and toughness.

He might provide her another reason right now, simply by seeing that hesitation in Barnes, and choosing to draw his chair closer to him to show that he's not afraid of him, that he's going to treat him like an ally now, period. It's a gesture that might not even be noticed given all the man is dealing with, but...this is how Sam thinks.

Winifred Burkle has posed:
The despondency of Barnes is met with observation, but not much visible sympathy on Fred's face. Even as Sam moves himself closer as a show of faith, she remains where she is - just as much of a statement.

The apologetic look is met with an easily readable softening of her expression. In fact, she gives Sam a bit of a small, quick smile. The fact that he is so ready to help a man who not too long ago kidnapped and tortured him is one of the reasons why she fell for him. With that look, she conveys that it is certainly not him that she is upset with. Generally, she is a forgiving and trusting person. However, Barnes threatened her loved ones, killed friends and almost killed her. That passes a threshold in her mind.

Once he turns and she looks back at Barnes, the anger and wariness returns. The question about how they want to do this is met with a few moments of thought. "Is it at all possible to sneak in? We could try a diversion near the front. Or, maybe call in a reason for a group to investigate elsewhere. If they believe he is still on their side, it's possible, at least, for him to walk through the front door."

Winter Soldier has posed:
He notices. There are many things about Bucky Barnes that are different from Yasha Morozov, but there are also many things that are exactly the same. Among them is his perceptiveness, and so when Sam Winchester moves his chair, those blue eyes instantly track with that familiar predatory quickness.

He regards the gesture long enough to understand that it is not a threat. That it's in fact the opposite. A pained look flickers in his eyes, and he turns away.

Mercy gestures him closer, and he finally approaches. He comes near enough to touch her, though his closed-off body language makes him seem less close than he actually is. He's listening to the conversation as it happens around him, that much is clear, but his focus currently seems to be on the pencil she's offering him. It could be a weapon. Yes.

He takes it, and starts to draft. He was sixteen when he went to war as a soldier, as he told Sam, and twenty when he died. He's never had any chance to live a life as anything but a soldier. And as he works, pencil etching out the external and internal layout of buildings and courtyards, it is evident there is a nascent talent there that could have been cultivated if his hands hadn't been turned to weapons so early and so irrevocably.

If asked, he would not say he regrets it, but it has the melancholy of lost potential anyway.

Ultimately -- surprisingly -- when he comes up, it's because Fred brings him up. He does not look up from his work. "It will be slozhno." A grimace, a shake of the head. "...difficult. Almost always people working. When that isn't the case, you will be questioned. I can't even guarantee she is still where I left her." His features crease in a sardonic look. "I could get you pretty far. Pretend I have made a capture." The subtext is obvious: would you trust me to?

Mercy Thompson has posed:
"Rockets would be bad." Mercy agrees, and while none of the homemade bombs are within the room, the mechanic considers their store of explosives. "We still have all twelve hellfire molotov cocktails. We can use them once we're inside. We're pretty low on taser bombs and we only have a /few/ sleepy time grenades. Our other grenades are nearly fully stocked." And she's speaking of the EMP based grenades, along with the magnetic ones.

The mention of Liam earns a faint side-eye from Mercy. It's always such a careful balance of how much to say versus how little. In the end the coyote allows a little nod, "I believe he can."

Then it's back to Barnes, Fred and Sam. A nod will be given to what Fred has to say, even as Mercy keeps the majority of her senses upon the Winter Soldier. She may not be looking directly at him, but her attention is still there. It's good to have the talents of a coyote. "I was thinking of something similar, Fred. Possibly drop some bombs in the front and then run in through the back - " The rest of what Mercy Thompson was about to say stops when Bucky speaks. Specifically when he speaks Russian. The mechanic will watch the man for as long as he speaks and then, when he's finished, Mercy turns her gaze back to the layout he's sketching. The innate talent within his drawing is seen, but not remarked upon. Not right now. Touching the paper, the coyote adds, "When you left last where was Claire being held?" And then, after a careful consideration of her next words Mercy adds quietly, "And what sort of condition was she in?"

Sam Winchester has posed:
Mercy asks her questions, avoiding the question of Barnes' plan. Sam studies this map and grimaces, speaking up. "I like Barnes' play," he tells the two women. "Because if she's been moved, we may need a few minutes of his authority to tell us where she is then and now. It's the most believable ploy we're going to have."

If he's going to be by the man's side for a rescue attempt at all, he's going to trust him enough to do that. The odds of this rescue are not good, and since they're going in with him no matter what, well, the possibility that they might have failed somehow...or that he might be reactivated...is just a risk they're going to have to take.

As for Mercy's side eye, he ignores it. He can tell she's guarding some secret in regards to Liam, and certainly he's no mere wizard, but his secrets don't concern Sam at this point. Liam's choices have been, as far as Sam can see, anything but monstrous, and that's where he judges.

But then he glances back to see what Barnes will have to say about Claire's location and position.

Winifred Burkle has posed:
The sketch that is forming of the compound is watched from afar. Arms remain crossed, a frown crossing Fred's face. "If someone's able to get through the front door, they can let everyone else in elsewhere." She doesn't say who should go through that front door with them if they go that route. "It may just be easier to use the bombs, though." Much as Barnes alluded to, it's about trust. Would she trust one of her friends to go in a Hydra stronghold alone with Barnes?

Straightening a little, she does not move closer, but the actual planning has started and she doesn't want to be slouching against the wall. She has an addendum to the bombs which she has to tell Mercy about, but that can wait until they're out of earshot of Barnes.

Instead, she follows Sam's lead and waits to hear about Claire's condition.

Winter Soldier has posed:
Bucky pauses again, mid-sketch, to slant Mercy a sidewise look when she mentions they don't just have grenades and bombs, they have a /stock/ of grenades and bombs. "You worked up that much explosive for /me/?" he says, somewhere between exasperated, impressed, and moderately flattered. "Well, better too much than too little."

But having something to think about seems to be helping him, moderately, with the funk. He operated for the last eighty years of his life on a mission-oriented basis. This is, at the least, familiar.

"She's right," he says eventually, with a brief glance at Fred to indicate who 'she' is. He transparently feels awkward to start calling by name these people he has wronged and tried to kill. "I can't bring all of you in the front door. They would accept -- " His features tighten, and he avoids the name, " -- they would accept if I brought them Captain America. The rest of you, they might have me kill on the spot."

He looks at Sam, his gaze pained. "You, they would ask why I brought you back."

He looks back at his sketch. "I can take a high-value prisoner in the front, and open the back for the rest. Or you can just bomb the entrance. But you are committing to a firefight if you do."

The question about Claire he leaves for last. His voice is slow, his expression controlled to the point where it is obvious it is painful just to think about her -- and presumably, about what he did to her. "She was on the second level." His expression is still very flat. "In my quarters. I was keeping them from doing anything else to her, so... it's likely she's not there anymore."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
Mercy listens to what both Sam and Fred have to say. It's enough to earn a nod from the coyote even as she offers the faintest of smiles to Fred, when she finally moves closer.

Then it's back to the Winter Soldier, Bucky Barnes, as he speaks again. The first statement of his earns a serious look from Mercy. Another nod, but no words in response to what he says. Not when it would be something like 'yes, because we thought we were going to die'. That might bring up bad feelings that aren't needed just this moment.

"Then let's go with bringing Captain America in the front and then getting us in through the back. That's probably the best plan we can make - I'd rather not bomb right away, not when we could possibly get in and then out without a massive firefight. We can leave the bombs as a back-up plan." And while Mercy was just about to say something more, the Soldier's next words cause her to pause. She finally looks straight at the Winter Soldier, before her gaze turns to Sam, and then back again. "Why you brought him back?" Begins the coyote, something in her tone flattening out even more. "You mean they wanted Sam to be rescued?"

"They planned for it to happen?" That flat quality to Mercy's voice suddenly reverses, as her tone rises in pitch. "The wolves -"

And then Mercy just clamps down whatever else she was about to say. She goes so far to shake her head too. A denial in that movement to whatever else is going through her head. That forceful movement is enough to pull the mechanic back to the present. Planning the rescue of Claire Temple. "What's the likeliest location they'd take her to?"

Sam Winchester has posed:
Now, it is Sam Winchester's turn to drop his gaze uneasily. The Winter Soldier's comment sparks 110 questions. He rubs absently on the inner part of his left arm, swallowing as he tries to think about what he's just heard from every angle. It distracts him from the question of Claire for the moment as he tries to race to keep up with the twists and turns of an organization whose ultimate goals and desires are still somewhat inscrutable to him. That they wanted him alive, he'd figured out. That they wanted him //out// is new.

"I agree. Bluffing with Captain America is a good start." he murmurs, when he drags his attention back. It's neither here nor there yet, Claire needs them, no matter how scared he's just become. "As is opening the back door. That firefight will come soon enough. We want to hold off on that as long as humanly possible."

Humanly.

And whatever the Hell he is now. Literally. Whatever the Hell he is.

Of course, Mercy is asking the questions he feels too sick, dark, and ashamed to ask, and is pointing out that two of her friends //died// for Hydra's schemes...and for him. He stands to put distance, now, between himself and...everyone, feeling too unclean for proximity even in an attempt to show kindness to another. He plants his shoulder against the wall and looks down. Mercy's questions are good ones, and he has no better one.

Winifred Burkle has posed:
Fred watches Barnes with a wary look and almost smirks when he realizes how much firepower she and Mercy put together to face him. It's not one of camaraderie, but more along the lines of 'and we still have it to use should a reason be given'.

Trusting Barnes to let them in the back while he takes Captain America in through the front requires a certain amount of trust that Fred simply does not have in Barnes. However, Mercy is right, they hsould avoid the firefight as much as possible and the pair seem to have settled on this plan. For now, she will not argue against it.

It's not only Sam who is taken aback by the revelation that Hydra would wonder why he was brought back to them. She would assume he'd be a desired target. As she already straightened, her eyes are quickly drawn to the younger Winchester. There's a long, sympathetic look that she gives Mercy when she asks about the wolves.

While Sam attempts to put distance between himself and everyone, Fred doesn't quite allow that. With a few steps, she leans against the wall right next to him. She doesn't say anything, but instead she reaches out a hand to rest on his arm and then silently leans against him. Her attention remains on the Mercy and Barnes, but she physically stays next to Sam.

Winter Soldier has posed:
Bucky looks confused at the utter flatness in Mercy's tone up until she mentions the wolves. Then his features pale and his mouth thins. He looks away, the line of his jaw standing out briefly as he swallows. "We were instructed not to oppose if he was retrieved," he confirms, his voice strained. "Not to... significantly oppose. I'm sorry."

From her reaction, he is presuming that he does not need to tell her the ultimate fate of the wolves.

He remains subdued, passing one brief glance to Sam before looking away again. "I don't know much about their actual intentions with you," he says, and he reads honest to anyone with the senses to perceive it. "I was just told to take you in. Then let you go."

Asked where Claire might be now, he rouses back to some semblance of alertness. "Back to her initial cell, fifth level," he says. "Or to medical, level two. I've... had episodes and run away, before. They might hold her a few days, to try to lure me back with her. They know I would try to go back. My handler's a... spiteful man. No one should be left with him."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
Her words weren't meant to purposely upset Sam, but Mercy understands he is. She catches the scents from those emotions rolling off of him. It's enough to cause Mercy Thompson's gaze to follow Sam (and Fred) when he stands and walks away. Sympathy can be found within her eyes for the young Winchester, but she doesn't offer any type of comforting words. Perhaps later. Right now it's back to the Soldier.

His words don't seem to help. Not that they were meant to help, but they really don't help the coyote. Her nostrils flare slightly when she breathes in, though hardly for a scent check, no it's all about the anger she's currently feeling. And disgust too.

"/Significant opposition/." She mutters, her words low, but easily heard for those that have sensitive hearing. Again, there's that shake of her head as the mechanic turns away from her own reaction to all of these revelations from the Winter Soldier. The mention of Claire and where she might be earns a look at the layout of the facilities upon the drafting paper. His mention of episodes and run aways causes the vaguest side-eye from Mercy, but that's about it. Instead, she says, "It'd be good if you could manage to find that information out as soon as you and the Captain are inside. If you can't then we'll likely have to split up." Which clearly isn't something that Mercy likes, with that tone to her voice. "We should probably bring some type of medkit too - just in case Claire needs it." And with those words Mercy steps away from the group, "Let me grab mine, Sam, and you can tell me if SHIELD has something better. Mine was stocked by a bunch of paranoid wolves who have access to military level supplies."

Sam Winchester has posed:
"SHIELD has a lot of great stuff," Sam murmurs, even as he wraps his arms around Fred. It may not be appropriate, but he needs the comfort, needs her grounding touch. He rests his head on her head and closes his eyes. "I suggest we take advantage of whatever Agent Mom has in that Quinjet."

He exhales and squeezes Fred once more, then goes back to the paper. He puts his hands on either side of it. "I'm going to try to figure out where she is in there," he announces. "Let's try to take one more burden off our team. Anything I can do now that thwarts Hydra is just poetic justice."

The physical contact with the map, a representation of the actual place, is boost of sympathetic magic that might help him get the vision he's been after for some time now. He closes his eyes, breathes in deeply, and lets his mind cast off into a trance state. Often he's gotten frustrated, or distracted, or simply too pained to continue, but he's been shooting up far more of the blood than he's been burning up, and the big man is willing to burn as much power as it takes to get what he wants now.

Winifred Burkle has posed:
Even as Fred attempts to wordlessly comfort Sam, she watches Barnes and Mercy as they speak. She doesn't blame Mercy for her anger - it's completely understandable. There's a moment when she's distracted from the shame of Barnes and the anger of the coyote when she hears Sam call Agent May 'Agent Mom'. There's a blink and despite the serious conversation and situation, she can't help but ask, softly, curiously, "Agent Mom?"

As his arms wrap about her, she puts her own over his and hugs. "If we can find some sort of uniform or something to help us blend in, that'd be helpful. Maybe buy us some time inside before they realize something's wrong. Don't suppose there's some old Hydra surplus shop we can grab some old uniforms."

Barnes' assurance that he doesn't know much about what they were doing to Sam is met with a likewise unbelieving look. However, now's not the time to push the issue. Instead, she studies him as he says again that he'd go back for Claire and they'd keep her there for that possibility. "So, they'll expect you."

When Sam moves away form her to the paper, she follows just slightly behind, worried. She knows he's been using his powers more and she isn't sure how she feels about that. "Sam..." she warns, softly.

Winter Soldier has posed:
Completing the sketch and setting the pencil down, Bucky backs up a few steps to take himself a little farther away from the others. His retreat is perhaps precipitated by the anger he can feel coming off Mercy, the heat in her voice when she repeats his phrase: significant opposition. His hearing is good; he caught it.

"Once I get in, I can find out anything I want," he says, though his eyes stay lowered, his head bowed. He avoids everyone's eye contact. "Only a few people regularly stationed at that cell outrank me." The phrase is said with all the derision it deserves; he can see now plainly how little his 'authority' ever meant.

As for Fred's remark? "They would expect me in that way if they were certain I was AWOL," he says in brief reply. "It's been... what, a day, two, since my last communication. It's not long enough for concern yet. I have had to operate out of contact for extended periods before. On the positive -- they don't wear uniforms, exactly. Street clothes. Everyone blends in."

Sam moves forward, then, determined to try to leverage his abilities to take one burden off the team early. He places his hands on the map, closes his eyes, and tries to force a vision. It goes well at first, the magic flaring in his blood with a burst of sickness and ecstasy alike. He forges a connection to the location, starts to peer with mystical sight --

And a blowback hits him with the force of a semi going a hundred miles an hour. Fred's concern was warranted.

Pain electrifies every nerve of his body and lights up his brain down to every last synapse. Feedback from something immensely powerful whiplashes through him with enough force to give him the mother of all nosebleeds. There's no tangible physical damage to him done other than that, at the least, nor any lasting mental damage, but the agony is so intense that it makes a complete jumble of the few images he does receive back.

If he can sift through the pain sufficiently, what he will piece together, eventually, is this: Claire in a med ward, with Someone he cannot clearly see. Claire strapped down in a chair. Claire at the very limit of human terror, eyes wide in sightless fear, screaming in pain like an animal pushed to the brink under some brutal stress test.

Sam Winchester has posed:
"Agent May is very maternal," Sam explains to Fred several seconds before he tries to enter his trance.

And it doesn't take long for him to get results. It doesn't take long at all, and everyone will certainly see it.

"Gu-- " Sam's eyes flare wide with obvious pain, white streaks appearing along the sharp lines of his cheekbones. "Guh-- ah!" The pain sounds are just that, nonsense pain sounds from a man who is used to it, but who is still /not having fun/. He staggers back a few steps, his erstwhile chair falling over and taking him with it into a tumble onto the floor while he pants, while blood goes pouring out of both sides of his nostrils and into his mouth; he ends up choking on some of it and spitting it back up onto the floor with the air of someone who has just been hit hard and who is pissed off about it, who is determined to get back up.

But instead he coughs a few more times and curls up, clutching his head as the vision assaults him.

Words through gritted teeth. "Med..."

That's all he can manage, but it burns fury through his blood, fury that Mercy will no doubt smell. Those sightless fear-filled eyes, those screams. That woman, so compassionate and brave, going through that at Misha's hands.

There's a wordless snarl, but...none of his muscles seem to want to unclamp.

/Misha, you son of a bitch you son of a bitch I will kill you, you sorry son of a bitch/ whispers his darker half.

His lighter half mentally takes stock of all he's seen and adds: /Yep./

Winifred Burkle has posed:
Once he's in, he could also turn over Captain America and then all of them outside, Fred thinks to herself at Bucky's assurances that he can find out whatever they need when the time comes. At least the mention of no uniforms is somewhat good news. Anything else that she might think or say is completely out the window when Sam staggers back and collapses, bleeding.

"Sam!!" Fred is immediately at his side, kneeling down right beside him and reaching out to grab at his arms. She looks up to Barnes with a look of worry and anger, assuming he had a hand in this somehow. "Sam, it's okay, it's going to be okay." He's saying 'med' and she assumes he needs some form of medicine, but she's completely unwilling to leave him.

Glaring at Barnes, she points toward where Mercy left, "Go find something to help!" she orders him. Perhaps later she will marvel at the fact that she ordered a world renowned assassin around without any fear and - in fact - with the surety that he must obey her.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
Even though Mercy is across the room from Barnes, Fred and Sam, the coyote's senses keep her appraised of what's going on.

Ears hear, eyes see, nose smells and her magical sensing abilities flare. It's like a ruffle of fur, but against the grain and it causes Mercy to ease out from the cabinet she was raiding. In her hands she carries her big white box with the stark red cross upon it. It's up to EMT standards, though perhaps not SHIELD. Barnes' question about how much time has passed earns a clipped answer from the coyote, "We're nearing into the two day mark."

And that's all she can say as Sam suddenly reacts to whatever he sees. When it seems to go wrong Mercy can't help but frown. She's seen the young Winchester have a vision or two before, but this one doesn't strike her as being baseline. When Fred drops down near Sam it seems to confirm Mercy's fear that something has gone wrong. From that, Mercy steps over, her anger at the Soldier forgotten for the moment.

The EMT box will be dropped near Sam and Fred and while the other woman has so ordered Barnes to get help, Mercy issues a counter-order. "/No/. I'll get some towels, water, give me ten -" And with a look at Barnes, Sam and Fred, Mercy hot-foots it towards the third door in the back. Where her living quarters can be found.

Winter Soldier has posed:
Bucky seems as alarmed as anyone at the reaction Sam has to touching that sketch. He startles back a step in an obvious fight-or-flight reflex, almost ready to choose fight up until he perceives that Sam is just in pain. A whole lot of pain, judging from the way he crashes to the floor with blood pouring from his face.

Either the erstwhile Winter Soldier is a very good actor, or he's just as poleaxed as everyone else, because he just stares in uncertain confusion as Fred flies to Sam's side -- and then levels a furious stare up at him. A stare, and an order.

He hesitates, but complies after a moment, with a worried glance at Sam, who is perhaps the one actively friendly person to him present. He turns towards where Mercy's rifling in the cabinets and takes a few steps before she comes storming back and counter-orders him to stay right the fuck where he is.

He halts. His eyes stray to the EMT box when Mercy leaves it on the floor beside Sam, and then tentatively he approaches Sam himself. He obviously doesn't want his head bitten off by Fred, but he does have field medic experience. "He needs to be kept on his side," he ventures. He's probably the only one present able to hold Sam still, so he makes to kneel to do so, though if Fred chomps at him he'll back up pretty quick.

Sam Winchester has posed:
They're all swarming around him, and in truth he probably does need medical care. His nose hasn't stopped bleeding. It's gushing, and he keeps getting strange clots back in the back of his throat that he has to cough up. It's not exactly attractive stuff, and his head keeps right on ringing, even as some of his muscles unclamp.

But he feels a sense of urgency he should have felt before. It's one thing, perhaps, to actively know that someone is in trouble or in pain. It's another to see it.

"Not-- me-- " he grates, though he won't resist any first aid they want to give to him. In truth, the black spots before his eyes, fading in and out as something very like a migraine pounds through his skull, mean that he's not even always actively aware of what they're doing.

"//Claire//," he grates. "//Medical//. In medical."

Because if he's going to endure this much pain for that scrap of intel, he's damn sure going to give out the intel. His eyes widen as another wave of pain assaults him, and he keeps a firm grip on his head, lowering it back down now that he's gotten those all-important words out of his mouth.

Winifred Burkle has posed:
Fred remains by Sam's side, uncaring of the blood or the coughing, trying to hold him still against the pain. As things become more clear as to what he's saying, she nods, dimly taking in this information. However, her main concern is trying to calm him and stem the bleeding. As soothingly as she can manage, she says, "Okay, we've got that. Just relax, take deep breaths."

The EMT box put down right by Sam is met with a short, grateful look that she shoots Mercy before she moves off to get other things to help. That just leaves her with Barnes and Sam - who is bleeding and curled up on the floor.

Barnes is quite right to be wary of Fred's reaction to him as he approaches. The visceral fear and anger rises right up as he attempts to kneel down beside them. Fred doesn't yell at him, but the look of pure distrust and fury needs no words. She is almost leaning over Sam to protect him from the man she still sees as a threat. She has no idea he has medical experience and while he does give advice as to how to help? She's does not want him close enough to do more harm.

However, she realizes that at the moment it is only the two of them out here to help and she is desperate enough to ask, "Is there anything in there that can help stop this?"

Mercy Thompson has posed:
The box of EMT supplies has many things, but a magic cure for a nosebleed isn't one of them. There is, however, many things that can be used for a variety of situations. Tourniquets, sterilized needles and thread in their individual packages and also gauze. So many sizes and types of gauze. One in particular is made specifically for nosebleeds. Small cotton nasal plugs that can be shoved up the nose to help compress and stop the bleeding.

By this time Mercy has stepped back in and miasma of scents that litter the garage hits her like a mack truck; blood, fear, anger, pain. It's all there. While the coyote doesn't necessarily stumble from it all her nose does crinkle. Her expression turning slightly pinched. "Is his nose still bleeding?" She asks, several towels in her hand, as well as a few ice packs to hopefully help slow the bleeding down. "There's gauze in the box to help - I grabbed some icepacks too."

Automatically her gaze will go to Sam, Fred and Barnes, making sure all are still quite alive for the brief few minutes she was gone.

Winter Soldier has posed:
Fred, predictably, flattens out over Sam like an angry badger and glares at him when he gets close. Bucky doesn't try to get much closer, but he doesn't back up either. Especially when Sam manages to relay the intel he gathered.

Claire. In medical.

Bucky's eyes narrow in sudden fury. He looks like he might know exactly why Claire is in medical or at least have a very good guess, and he /doesn't fucking like it./ If not for Sam curled up in agony on the floor, and Fred desperate enough to ask HIM for help, he might have turned and tried to storm out again in some impulsive rush to try to rescue Claire.

But those two facts remain, keeping him here. The guilt is obvious behind the fury in his eyes.

"EMT kits don't have anything heavy-duty for the pain," he says, his voice calm as he opens the kit and starts taking out the gauze and nasal plugs. "Best he can do is tough it out. Nosebleed can be handled." He leans over Sam, if Fred lets him get edgewise, and holds the younger man down by the shoulder with his left hand to ground him through the pain. He starts to clean up the blood with his right.

His hands know exactly what they're doing, after years of hasty patch jobs in the field, and it seems to calm him too in some sense to work at something familiar with them.

Sam Winchester has posed:
Relax. Deep breaths. Sam does so, as best he can. Barnes puts his hand on his shoulder to ground him through the pain. It does seem to help. He hears-- almost distantly, through what feels like a lot of ringing in his ears-- Barnes' comment that he'll just have to tough it out. He doesn't have any more words, but he sort of forms his right hand into a little thumbs up. Yep. Toughing it out. He's got it. It's cool. He even tries to pat pat Fred's knee a little bit, to try to calm the badger. The protective mantling isn't necessary in his opinion, and it's just slowing things down.

As they apply various gauzes and things the nosebleed will slow down though. And the blood clean up is appreciated, as Sam has real opinions about leaving magical reagents and bits of himself on people's floors. But he's happy to just lie there too.

The floor is soothing and cool after all. As are the ice packs, which don't hurt his hurt head. He does indulge in closing his eyes though, which makes it better.

Winifred Burkle has posed:
Everyone is alive. It's hard to tell who Mercy worried would kill who, but for the moment, all parties that she left are still breathing. "It is," she confirms for the coyote. Fred keeps by Sam and while she fended Barnes off the first time, when he whirlwinds in with the medical talk and the professionalism, she doesn't stop him. There is - undeniably - mistrust on her face and she watches everything that Barnes does as he starts to hold Sam down and clean up the blood.

As Sam attempts to pat Fred's knee to calm her down, a hand reaches out to take his. There is no calming the badger - it is going to be there and ready to judge as she sees fit. But, as far as she's concerned the main issue is stopping Sam's nosebleed and quelling his pain. Everything else is protective and secondary.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
The mention of pain relief earns a look from Mercy Thompson. "I usually have a pre-loaded morphine syringe in there, but I used the one I had on -" Dean. She stops right before she says that name. After all Barnes was the one that caused the damaged upon Dean that required the use of morphine. So, instead Mercy will switch to. "- I haven't had a chance to replace it yet." Now her gaze turns to Sam and even if he can't necessarily hear her through that pain of his she says, "Sorry."

Once the icepacks have been put to good use Mercy will toss towels down upon the floor to help Bucky mop up the blood.

"Did Sam see anything?" The mechanic asks, having missed the revelation that Claire is now within the medical side of Hydra. And while she asks that question she'll keep an eye upon all three of them - angry Fred, fallen Sam and the Soldier.

Winter Soldier has posed:
Bucky hears that awkward stop, silence, and change of topic on Mercy's part. He can take one guess why. His gaze averts, and he continues mop up Sam in silence.

Mercy finally asks if Sam saw anything else. He tilts his head, curious for the answer to this as well.

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam will hold Fred's hand, and he squeezes it. He's asked, and he hesitates.

Because he's not sure what anyone in this room will do.

"They're torturing her," he says softly. "That's all I got."

He finally opens one eye and looks up at Bucky. "Is Misha still there? Is this his doing? What's that guy's deal?"

He finally decides to sit up. In pain or not, he can't participate in a productive conversation on his side. As it is, the nosebleed is subsiding, and he decides to put his back against the wall and lean up on Fred instead of laying there like an idiot. And if these slow steps towards recovery seem a little early, well. He's recovering from all sorts of things faster these days.

He also sighs. "None of that guarantees they'll keep her in medical, I guess, unless whatever they're doing demands more time in there."

Winifred Burkle has posed:
Fred has no idea who Mercy used the morphine syringe on. The curious mind would generally give her a very pointed questioning look. For the moment, though? Her attention is entirely on Sam. "Claire's in the medical bay of the base," she answers in tandem to Sam revealing that she is being tortured. It's not as if they had a lengthy rescue timeline, but this revelation is one that certainly ensures they find Claire sooner than possible.

As Sam starts to push himself upward, Fred helps, though she gives an obviously worried look that he is getting up so soon after such a traumatizing spell. For now, though, she holds him as he leans against her.

Mercy Thompson has posed:
While Barnes doesn't necessarily overtly react to the awkward pause on Mercy's part, she can't quite stop giving him a vague and quick look. It's a look that reads both as exasperation and perhaps something akin to an apology.

That apology leaves her eyes, however, when Sam and Fred reveal just where Claire is. Hearing both of their words Mercy's expression goes from awkward to anger and worry in half of a second. "Torturing her -" Immediately her gaze turns back to Barnes, "- For what? What can she offer them?" Asks the coyote, her voice harsh, "She doesn't have any intel that they need, or likely want. Why would they be doing that?' And while some might think those questions of Mercy's are rhetorical, they aren't. She waits to see what the Winter Soldier has to say, even as she flicks a quick look at Sam when he asks about Misha.

Again, Mercy's gaze turns back to Barnes, waiting to see how he answers all of their questions.

Winter Soldier has posed:
Sam asks about 'Misha.' Bucky's eyes harden. He sits back on his heels, seeing that Sam seems to have recovered to some degree, backing off and giving the other man space.

"Mikhail Arkadyevich Volkov," he says. "Crazy fucking bastard. You might know Hydra dabbles heavily in magic. In the mystic. He's one of their best sorcerers." He hesitates, before he adds slowly, "He's the handler who has run me the last few times I was taken out of freeze."

His left arm works, hand flexing with the sound of metal articulating. It is the sound of a weapon being limbered up, and the look in his eyes reflects that fact. "He didn't tell me everything about what he was doing. You don't tell your gun shit before you fire it. But I know he was testing something."

He looks at Mercy, and for a few moments he looks exactly like the Winter Soldier she remembers. "Probably testing on her."

Sam Winchester has posed:
This information is grim.

But it's also very useful.

Sam Winchester settles into Fred's arms and says, "If he's testing something magical on her, then traces of that magic will still be on her. Once we're in the building those who can actually sense magic," he glances at Mercy, "might be able to use that to track her no matter where they've moved her.Once we're past the wards that just whammied me in the face. Probably wards."

He sees the shift in Barnes, but it would be unrealistic to assume that all the mannerisms of decades are going to disappear. That doesn't discomfit him. It explains why all of his questioning revolved around his powers though, around Yellow Eyes.

He shakes his head. "I think the plan is as good as it's going to get. I think we better get the others and move in as fast as we can. Depending on how he set up his wards he might know full well that I just tried to take a peek."

Mercy Thompson has posed:
Everything that Barnes and Sam has to say is heard by Mercy and the worry and anger within her expression only increases.

It's Sam's words that bring a response from the coyote, as she says, "Whether she smells of magic or not I can still trace her scent. It won't be hard." Or so she hopes, "Let me go start rounding people up and once we have everyone we can get geared up and drop the plan on them. Then we can head out."

And just like that Mercy straightens from her casual stance to do as she just said; find people, get gear, head out.