Log: Spectre & Foxtrot WHO: Steven Barnes & Sherwood Barton WHAT: Sherwood comes to see Steven before his neuro-scrub to question him and see if he can find anything out about his brainwashing.
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The room felt even more empty once his mother and Luka were gone. He’d broken, he’d had time to realize what was happening and what he’d done, and now he was still strapped to the bed and left alone with his thoughts. Somewhere along the line his mind stopped being his own. For weeks, maybe for months, he’d been doing things against his will, forgetting them, and going on like nothing was wrong. All this time the SHIELD agents had been fighting amongst themselves, Steven had unwittingly been responsible. He’d been used like a weapon, and worse than that, he’d manipulated and used Luka, dragging him into this and causing SHIELD to bring him in and question him.
He was trying to piece all of this together in his head but he had no memory of any of it. He barely recalled any lost time. When had he done all this? How? He figured he would have noticed blacking out for a few hours.
He only had a short amount of time to think about it before they scrubbed it from his mind. All Steven could do now was wait.
This was a mess.
There was a traitor in their midst. Terrence was dead. Ivy was missing. Again. Castle was attacked. Barnes and his brother were in lockdown. His sisters were worried. Sherwood’s head was spinning from everything that had happened in the past few weeks, let alone the rapidfire events of the past few days. He wasn’t sure any of it made sense, or ever would ever again.
During times like these, he knew the rational method was to remind himself of what he knew: Barnes had attacked Castle in a method far out of his usual mode, as a fellow sharpshooter, Sherwood had thought that was strange immediately, and as Pella stated, with absolute certainty, that it wasn’t Steven... The brainwashing didn’t seem so far-fetched, even before SHIELD had taken steps to address the issue. And now, all Sherwood knew was that he had to see what, if anything, Barnes knew. He was glad he had the clearance for it.
He supposed knocking was unnecessary, and stepped in once he’d shown his badge to the posted guards. Seeing Barnes tied down was unsettling, to say the least, but it was for the best. He’d already attacked his girlfriend because of the headwork; anyone else was easily fair game.
“Barnes,” he said, giving the man a nod. “I... have a few questions.”
Steven looked over, his eyes still a bit red from having cried in his mother’s arms. His mouth twitched. Of all the people to come question him. Of course it was Sherwood. Of course. This was karma. He must have pissed a lot of people off in a past life to get this right now. Steven knew he looked like hell. He knew he still looked like he’d been crying.
“Oh, Christ,” he muttered before he could stop himself. “Great. They couldn’t send anyone else? Literally anyone else.”
“Hello to you, too,” Sherwood sighed. Good to see some things were still the same, at least. “It was me or Oyama, and she’s looking into this from other angles.” In theory. Something about technology. He didn’t pretend to understand.
He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Look, Barnes it... I’m not here to make this harder. I just want to figure this shit out.”
Steven watched Sherwood. Held down, there wasn’t much else he could do. He glanced toward the door, then back at him. Would he have preferred Oyama? Probably not. She was the one who came up with the idea of raiding their apartments and taking all their weapons like she was everyone’s mom instead of the rookie on the team.
He didn’t trust any of them. Any one of them could have been holding the keys to his brain right now, waiting to take it for a joyride. It could have been Sherwood. At least, it could have been, if Steven considered Sherwood smart enough to pull it off----but Steven and Sherwood didn’t get along well enough for Steven to give him that kind of credit.
“I don’t know anything,” Steven said quietly. “I wish to God I did but I know nothing.”
“To be honest, I expected that,” Sherwood sighed, leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest. The motion ached, in a way, but with his arm well enough not to need the sling, anymore, he was more than happy to take a bit of soreness for the freedom to move. “But keep trying. Think. If they don’t let you remember something happening, there has to either be a gap, or a false memory in its place, something that doesn’t click...”
Steven was quiet for a while. It seemed like he’d stopped listening, that he’d shut down and wasn’t interested in continuing this, but he was tracing his movements back. Trying to find the pattern.
Finally: “By now it’s all natural gaps in memory. And recently my life’s just been a routine of going to train Karen Murdock, being at the hospital with Rachel and Pella, visiting my brother … it doesn’t change much. But I do remember getting back to the hospital sometimes, feeling like the day just flew by and feeling guilty for not being there early enough.”
Sherwood waited as the other man thought. It wasn’t as if he had anywhere to go, or like Barnes was going to run out on him. He had time, for the moment. When Steven finally spoke again, he nodded. It wasn’t much, but it was something, at least. A start.
“That happen often?” he asked. “Did anyone ever say anything?”
Steven shrugged a shoulder, sighing heavily. “No.” Then a thought struck him, and he blinked. “Yes. Carol pulled me aside and asked me why the hell I was taking so long when I was just running out for a sandwich. I’d forgotten to get her a coffee. She gave me a hard time about Pella having to shoulder everything while I was out all the time. Not that Pella would leave.”
“When was that?” Sherwood asked, arching his brow. The particular details of Barnes’ troubles with his girlfriend’s mother weren’t so important to him, but if it helped him track where Steven had gone, during his fugue states, he might be able to move forward, after all.
“About a week ago.” Another moment of thought. “Thursday. It was on Thursday. And …” Steven hesitated. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Sherwood. “I realize now I can’t account for most of Friday. I remember running errands but I don’t remember any specifics. I remember seeing Karen that day, but … it’s a blur. Talk to Karen Murdock, see if I met her Friday.” He swallowed hard. “That was the day Terrence was killed.”
Sherwood nodded. “Oyama is checking footage, from that day,” he said softly. “To... confirm.” He hesitated, looked up at Barnes. “Steven, if it is, it’s still not you. Just... try and remember that.” It was likely cold comfort, coming from him -- coming from anyone, really, but especially coming from him. Still, he had to at least try and make it easier, little as he actually could.
“I know,” said Steven, a little too quickly. He set his jaw and stared hard at the wall. He’d already broken in front of his mother; there was no way he was going to do it in front of Sherwood. “My mind isn’t my own anymore. I don’t know how long it’s been going on. I don’t know when it started. I...” He took another steadying breath. “You can look at my personnel file. See where I’ve been in the last year, even further back. My reports are thorough. You’ve got a sharp eye, Sherwood. You might be able to find an inconsistency, something missing, or... something that makes sense now that didn’t seem important at the time.”
Sherwood didn’t comment on the response. He doubted Steven wanted to hear it, and he had better people to help him that Sherwood. Luka. Pella. James. The people he actually liked could pick up the pieces, and it was more than fine with Sherwood to leave that task to them.
“I already planned on taking a look,” he admitted, though it was good to have the idea reaffirmed. “Is there anything else you can think of? Anything that might give me a jumping off point?”
Steven looked back over at Sherwood, his expression full of regret. “No. I don’t. I’m sorry, I don’t know anything else. I wish to God I did. Luka might know more. The Rogers family might know something else. Karen might be able to account for times when I was late.” He was grasping at straws now, picking at any information he could. “Check my cell records, but it’s got to be clean. I would have found something by now----even if it was encrypted or scrambled or blocked; Luka would have noticed. That means if I was triggered by a call phrase it was either in person or through some kind of visual.”
The look on Barnes’ face made Sherwood feel bad for him, sorry for him. This was a hell of a mess they were in, and Steven was in the middle of it -- and it was only going to get worse, when they scrubbed him, probably.
“I’ll see what I can get,” he said softly. That was the most he could ask for, at this point. He just had to hope it’d be enough.
Steven nodded. “Damn straight you will,” he said gruffly. He was exhausted, and more importantly he was scared. The process of getting rid of a neurological rewiring like this was intense, and the side effects were numerous and occasionally permanent. The upside was that he wouldn’t be a sleeper agent anymore, but the downsides included paralysis, loss of motor skills, speech impediments, and memory loss.
He couldn’t stand failure. He couldn’t stand being pulled off a job. This procedure was going to wipe him off the case, at the very least. For once, he had to put all his trust in other people. And who was left? Yoko, whom he didn’t trust, and Sherwood, whom he just straight up didn’t like. The Logan twins, who had been too busy screwing around to even notice that any of this was happening in the first place.
“End this. You got that?”
“You don’t need to give me orders, Barnes,” Sherwood said, sounding more tired than offended, though. He could tell how Steven felt about it, could imagine he’d react much the same, if things were reversed. “This has gone on long enough, and I’m more than happy to find this fucker and give him -- or her -- what they deserve.”