Pʟᴇᴀsᴇ﹐ Sᴛᴇᴘ Oᴜᴛ Oғ Lɪɴᴇ

The hotel was nice enough for them to reside, while the proceedings with the Accords were still ongoing. Yet, it was this man before him that had him feel a little more than worried, even for those of his own people. No man needn’t to suffer like he was, and it was quite evident that he was distressed. Reaches for his shoulder, other arm helping to support, and eased him back up to his feet as he had made to sit there. “Now, Commander… You shouldn’t have worked yourself so hard. Look at what’s become of you. Pressing too hard on all this has made your body worn out. Come on…” Leads him on down the hallway, and into the nearest room of theirs. It was not difficult getting the other to cooperate, as he was so far into his illness. Settles him down properly on the hotel room’s couch. “Now… Is this from something you ate, or really just from overworking…?” | @evcrettrcss​ |

It was true, Ross’s body was cooperating in a way his mind would have reeled from (had he had the presence of mind to combat it). Led along like a child, he found himself stretched out on the couch and looking up at T’Challa in somewhat of a daze, taking in his words and processing them bit by bit.

“I...I’m fine, this is just,” He shook his head, and saw just how wrong he was. It was as if the room had decided to make up for his lack of movement, his head swimming in vertigo. “Sick, I’m sick aren’t I.” He groaned in exasperation. “And I’ve got meetings, and I’m escorting a Prince and---”

  “Yeah, sorry. I know… I was one of those guys once, before all of this. They probably think I’m a freaking weirdo, especially with my history with Hydra and all. ‘Why’s this creep going back? Is he gonna turn against us?’ Yeah, I get that’s probably gone through your mind too, Commander. ‘Is today gonna be the day I put the bullet through The Winter Soldier’s skull?’ Luckily, I don’t think so. No need to worry about that.” He didn’t feel too good about any of this, but there was enough anger inside of him to bottle any of that away. There was only the mission, and it was sort of funny how that still carried over even after he was through with them. Damn brainwashing crap. “Oh, and you totally look younger than what I was expecting. Usually guys with your rank are older, unless things really are changing.” | @evcrettrcss​ |

He couldn’t help but to laugh at the unexpected display of humor (albeit of the morbid variety) from Barnes. It struck Ross that he couldn’t deny the thought having crossed his mind, either. The transition had been so quick; from issuing a manhunt for the then ‘terrorist’, to apprehending the real mastermind, Helmut Zemo. If there was one thing that could shake your confidence in a system like the one he served, it was almost getting the wrong guy. 

“Alright, alright,” He waved a hand, “Now you’re after something. I know it’s hard to see, but there’s grey in this blond.” He smirked, suppressing a shudder. The chattering of his teeth had at least subsided enough to stop impeding his speech, but the chill wasn’t so easily evaded. “That or you’re insulting me.” He paused, giving Barnes a sidelong glance. It wasn’t hard to see the man that Rogers must have known was in there all along. He opened his mouth, set to say something about the mission, when he heard something completely out of place. A gunshot.

He ducked on instinct, looking around and hoping to god that he would see a few soldiers laughing or panicking about a stupid misfire of their weapon. What he saw was the group nearest them readying their rifles and slowly moving forward as they watched something through their scopes. Then he looked over at Barnes, remaining silent.

   “…Hah. I’d never get that. Though, I’ll be surprised myself if they fall for this.” Notices that Ross was shivering more than ever, and he wondered if the guy was even close enough to the fire or not. Stands away from his own log, and sits right next to the other, hoping that his heat would help. “You’re really sure about those soldiers back there? They look like a bunch of weaklings, honestly. Please don’t tell me this is their first mission, or yours?” That would just suck so much. He hoped he was entirely wrong, and just judging too quickly on everyone here. It wasn’t his fault he’s so used to being the guy that can take pretty much anything, but obviously nothing compared to the likes of Captain America. | @evcrettrcss​ |

     “That confident, huh?”

Ross said through a wry smile, still facing the fire. He noted the soldier’s shift in position, ultimately grateful that it was left a silent gesture (and one that was appreciated, even if the man was too proud to admit it). It was strange to be working with someone the country had deemed an enemy not too long ago, but that was fast becoming the norm as the accords blurred the line between enemy and ally. 

He had to retrain himself from rolling his eyes at the accusation. “Should I be flattered? I don’t look that young.” He said, making jest of the jab. “And not everyone can be injected with super serum, you know. These men went through rigorous training, and they’ve all chosen to serve their country and fight the same enemy as you."

He looked over at Bucky now, eyebrows raised as though to impress upon him the weight of his statement. He was sure that Barnes understood, having been a soldier in the height of World War II, but the Winter Soldier had become accustomed to doing things alone and Ross wondered how much of that attitude had stuck after his reconditioning. He hoped tha the man still knew how to take orders, so long as they weren’t coming from HYDRA’s lips.

It was freezing, and the coat that he was wearing couldn’t really mask the frigid temperatures that still plagued him on a daily basis. It was all more of an mental issue than really there, and he glared ahead at the fire that burned in front of his face. Though his body was warm, inside he was cold, and memories of a place like this were coming to make their rounds. He wasn’t alone, at least, and even though it was company he thought he’d never really have present… It was another person that wasn’t there to kill him. In fact, he and this government authoritative man were in a place that was riddle with unseen danger. Bucky knew the signs of it, and knew that for now they were safe.

   “Hydra’s no fool, you know. They’ll linger on forever, and know we’re     coming before we’re even there… It’s sorta creepy.” | @evcrettrcss |

Months ago he used to joke that he was at the office so much he might as well sleep on the sofa in the break room. It was as though the universe had heard the joke and wholly disapproved, seeking to prove the notion wrong as best it could. He was god knows how many miles from the States, freezing his ass off to supervise an operation against one of the world’s most nefarious organizations to date. There was a bigger team with them, but right now only Barnes was seated at the pathetic fire they had managed. 

“We’re hoping f-for the element of surprise, and expecting m-much less.” Ross assured him, folding his arms tighter against his chest. Fuck it was cold, and there was the wind that pierced right through every layer he’d put on. “You n-not getting c-cold feet, are you?”

  “It went smoothly enough. Bandits are always an issue in these lands, since there’s so much treasure that they’re not accustomed to seeing.” He thought about the last few thugs he had to personally take care of, and how desperately they wanted a relic that was embedded with the famed vibranium. All thoughts of these last few nights went away when he saw the other experiencing something that was definitely not the norm. A curious glance soon turned into some real concern as he saw the other looking quite out of it. “Mister Ross… Are you in need of some help? You feeling well?” | @evcrettrcss​ |

He honestly didn’t even hear T’Challa’s response, not very clearly anyways. But the King had a calming voice, right, so it made sense that he might just...zone out. Right? Of course, feeling as though your skin was on fire was a little harder to explain away.

“I’m feeling, uh,” There was a point where a business like facade could no longer stand against the weakness caused by human sickness. It was annoying, embarrassing, and downright inconvenient, but even his stubborn will could no longer deny it. “Ah, could-could I have some water?”

It was as though that simple request had finally made something click inside his brain. Finally, it had accepted his status as ‘sick’ (and likely ‘a big fool’ as well). And with that, it finally brought down weariness upon him with the might of a hammer. He stumbled, holding a hand out to the wall beside him and feeling the floor coming up beneath him. He was sitting before he realized it, which he supposed was better than having collapsed.

Of course, a job was a job and even on this assignment, Ross had plenty of duties for the Agency. He still ran on unhealthy amounts of sleep and caffeine in turn. He managed well, despite it, but when he got sick it hit him hard. Unfortunate result of the lifestyle, one he was trying his best to deal with.

“The, uh, trouble in the village earlier...how did that go?” He asked, walking beside the King, down a mostly empty hallway of the palace. Ross kept his gaze forward, wondering if it was just him or if it was a very hot night. He felt flushed and more fatigued than usual, but the man refused to acknowledge the obvious symptoms as though that would make any sickness vanish.

Klaw was quite done with this conversation already, and yet he was forced to do nothing but listen to whatever this man had to say. It was a little more than he could chew, patience and all wearing too thin, but there simply was more he’d have to suffer it seemed. If there’s any way out of this place, I’ll take whatever this is supposed to be. “Yeah, I noticed…” The other man’s smile bothered him too much, and he forces his gaze away with the scratching of his beard. “I noticed quite a bunch of things ‘round here. I’m feeling rather fine, but obviously quite cramped. What’s a guy gotta do to get some fresh air out here?” He was already thinking of ways in which this could go, miles ahead of all them, since he was someone of the highest bidder’s desire. “Damn that Stark-bot, honestly. The only reason you folk found me is because of his damn bounty! Everyone from the east to west was lookin’ for me! Sorta an easy target - what with my arm now missing! I still want Stark to pay for that, by the way. What is it that you want, hm?? Spit it out. None of this ‘How you feeling, today! Need more meds?!’ crap!” | @evcrettrcss​ |

Ross allowed another smile, listening to the man go on. Whether he was mad, or thought that he had everything under control, he was talking and that was always better than the alternative. Everett listened, and as he had become accustomed to doing, he analyzed. Klaw was still bitter about the incident with Ultron. Not a surprise, but good to know just how much it still affected him. Possible grudge against Stark (though if Ross had a dollar for every criminal with one of those, he’d be retired on a beach somewhere...).

“You’re lucky you know, most people that faced off with Ultron didn’t get off so cheaply.” A simple comment, meant to rankle; make Klaw lose focus, lose his bearings. “You’re a very wanted man, Klaw, so I suggest you start realizing just what kind of position you’re in.”

Ross leaned forward now, eyes focused straight ahead at the Vibranium smuggler. He may have been small in stature, but his manner was anything but meek.

“You answer my questions, and maybe you get off easy. A few years, decade tops, in a high security facility. Or you drag this out, play uncooperative, and we really make you suffer. You aren’t in a position to bargain. You are in control of just how much more your life can absolutely suck.”

    “…Nothing worries me more than the safety of my people, Commander Ross…” He says softly, looking ahead at the opposite wall when he saw the other looking at his phone so idly. Though, all of this was just a ruse to what he really knew of the other’s fate. “Captain Rogers is more than capable, it seems. He had evaded your searches for this long, what’s more is several years longer? I fear that… in time, all of this will only consume your minds too much. It did for the prisoner in your box, who’s head was in way over his own…” | @evcrettrcss​ |

He had a point, of course, but it was still a hard fact to swallow. That just one man, military background aside, had been able to plunge them all into such chaos. He heard no mockery in T’Challa’s tone though, no snide edge of disapproval. His thoughts were not here, but with Wakanda and its future.

“Truths can’t stay buried forever, and that man in the box is proof of it.” Finally his eyes rose to meet the King’s. “We’ll find Rogers, but our priority is to see the safety of this world remain intact. That includes Wakanda.” He offered a somewhat weary smile, feeling the weight of the last week all at once (sleepless nights and coffee-fueled days). 

     “We’ll be flying out tomorrow morning, to question Klaw. He’s in       custody, and that’s already half the battle. Anyone following him       is just riff-raff.”

“How long do you think until another incident with the Accords rises, Mister Ross? Someone as intelligent as Captain Rogers would know how to evade.” | @evcrettrcss |

“At this rate? Not very long.” He remarked, hardly looking up from his tablet. It was a rare moment for him, just to sit in a quiet room without some entire council to heed or employees to direct. 

“Rogers can only stay hidden so long. One man against the entire Government, and the combined efforts of the remaining Avengers?” He shook his head. “Even Captain America can’t shake that sort of search party.” A pause, while he checked something on his phone. “Worried about something, Your Highness?”

Here he was locked away in his cell, about three-quarters of the way finished with reading his last book that they gave him, and already growing quite restless. Stands up after an hour of this stewing quietly to himself, before he’s knocking at the intense glass that was meant for someone like Captain America here.      “’Ey, come on now! When’re ya gonna let me out?? I think it’s time      for a break in this rotting cell, don’t you think?? Hello?? Anyone      hearin’ me? Or am I talking to the ghosts!” | @evcrettrcss |

Once you got down to it, prisoners were all the same. Whether they remained stony silent or cursed up a storm, in the end thing there was a single, intangible concept that each and every one craved: freedom. It was what made tight-lipped men talk and proud men beg, and Everett had learned well enough how to break some of the hardest guys out there. Klaw wasn’t even close to their level.

He strolled in perhaps twenty minutes after footage picked up on his little tirade. The smile that he flashed as he entered the small, dingy space was like that of an office manager about to take pleasure in firing a particularly irritating employee. Ross took a seat right across from him, knowing that the King stood just on the other side of the glass to their left.

“Evening, Ulysses. Enjoyed your lunch? If you noticed, they gave you an extra serving of, ah...whatever the grey stuff was.” Eye contact was given sparingly, as though Klaw was just a fly on the wall, of passing interest. “Now, how are you feeling?”