Stasis || Bucky Barnes

Sixteen

Basil was almost falling asleep by the time Steve stopped. He was exhausted but Steve and Bucky were as bright eyed and bushy tailed as if they had drunk fifty coffees. Basil eyed them jealously as he struggled with his bags. They didn't know how long their mission would take and that meant a lot of supplies. Too many bags and long hours of walking. The sun was setting and whatever French forest they were trudging through, was growing gloomy. The squad was slowing down and were weary from a long day of walking and a way too early start.

"This seems good", Steve announced. "Let's make camp here". There were a few relieved groans as they began dumping their stuff.

"Thank god", Happy Sam groaned. There were several loud grunts from the squad as they all set down their bags and began to make camp. After the night at the bar, Steve had found some more (insane bastards) people for the squad. There was ten of them in total now. A small man team but big enough for them to have each other's backs. Each member was talented in a certain skill that got them a place on the team in the first place. All of them apart from Basil. But he supposed he was just there to patch up all their insane arses afterwards. (He knew he was just as, if not more, insane as the rest of them).

"Jim and Pinky are on first watch", Bucky called as they began to organise the bags and move to set up camp. "Each watch is three hours. Then Basil and I will take over, followed by Junior and Monty, then Steve and Dum Dum. No arguments". Basil groaned at the prospect of a disrupted night sleep but didn't protest.

Together, they moved to set up camp. It didn't take long for their practised hands to set up the tents. There was five tents between them so they would be sharing in pairs. "Alright", Happy Sam clapped his hands as Monty started the fire. "Who's drawing lots?" He was called Happy Sam Sawyer because of his generally jolly nature out of combat, and his hugely pessimistic nature in combat. Basil supposed that the name was supposed to humorous. The nickname happy Sam had followed him into the howling commandos and it didn't seem like it was leaving anytime soon.

"Fuck sharing with Pinky", Monty called from where he was seated in the dirt whittling a stick with his penknife. "He snores". Percival Pinkerton, Pinky, shot him a middle finger across camp. The two British men laughing and they exchanged rude hand gestures over the fire. Basil chuckled. He was glad that he wasn't the only brit, out numbered as they were by Americans.

"Let's just draw sticks and make it even", Gabe suggested.

"I'm not sharing with Bucky!" Basil exclaimed quickly as he sat down on a log someone had dragged over. Bucky looked up from stoking the fire to glare at him in offence. Basil grinned cheekily. The words from the ship ("you, are a brat Parrish") were still dancing in his head. (He was pretty sure he would do something stupid like kiss his Sargent if he had to share a tent with him right now). "Sorry Sarge", he held up his hands in a placating gesture. "I shared a torture room with you for over a week. And let me tell you this, you talk a lot in your sleep".

Bucky scowled at him as the men laughed. Steve nudged Bucky on the shoulder. "You still do that?"

"I was drugged and being tortured".

"So was I", Basil interrupted teasingly. "But at lest I didn't keep repeating my name and number all night. Sargent James Buchanan Barnes. Three, two, five, five"-

"No", Bucky rolled his eyes, cutting Basil off. "You just kept laughing like a freaking mad man. That noise alone could give me nightmares". He gave a theatrical shudder.

Basil gasped in mock outrage, placing a hand to his chest. "I'll have you all know that I'm very much sane, thank you. That was pure the effect of the drugs". Then he broke. His face crumpled into a grin and hysterical giggles began to escape his lips. Bucky chuckled and resumed stoking the fire.