6818/So, About Phoenix...

So, About Phoenix...
Date of Scene:	06 July 2021
Location:	Brownstone in Harlem, Apt 3C
Synopsis:	Sam and Cap meet with Cael to talk about her past. That is, until Bucky interrupts with a phone call...
Cast of Characters:	Cael Becker, Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers, James Barnes

---

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael had been a bit vague when she passed on the message to Sam and Steve - possibly via Bucky - that she wanted to talk to them. She even offered to provide the beers! Which is always a definite plus. And so, in a moment of quiet after the insanity that was a time jump back some 78 years (she still has trouble believing that's a Thing) she makes her way up to the third floor apartment to knock on the door, juggling the two six packs she brought with her to one arm as she does so.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    There aren't quiet moments in Sam's life any more, it doesn't seem like. He's fresh off an 18 hour drive back from Louisiana and looks a bit worse for wear, but he's here as requested. Just in, in fact, a cup of bodega coffee and the nigh-infamous bodega breakfast sandwich wrapped in paper sitting on the table next to the couch where he'd stitched Bucky up only....

    Sam stops, watering can in his hand, and tries to figure out when that was. But his days have started to run together, which is worrying all on its own. At least the place smells more like lemon-scented cleaner than blood, at this point.

    He sighs, rubs the back of his neck, and goes back to referencing the detailed list of plant-welfare instructions on his phone while he works his way around this tiny Harlem appointment that's more plants than furniture.

    And he's never going to get through this list, damn. The watercan is forgotten on a window ledge as he steps away, headed to the door. And it's not like he can't appreciate having a hobby that borderlines on obsession--nobody needs to know how much Sam wanted to be an ornithologist as a kid, okay, it's embarrassing--but he really wishes he'd known what he was signing up for when he volunteered for plant-sitting duty. Sam supposes it's only fitting, though, given that there was nothing in that agreement about turning the apartment into a triage center, either. He checks the peephole first, and then Cael will hear all of the locks being undone before Sam's opening the door, wide enough for her to step in past him. "Hey," he says, and it's tired. Because he's absolutely fucking bodied, and 'tired' is as much of that as he's willing to show.

Steve Rogers has posed:
A throaty motorcycle engine purrs to a stop outside. Steve drops the kickstand and leans the bike onto the silvery prop. The soldier takes a few seconds to lock his helmet to the handlebars-- some things are sacred, but there are people in Brooklyn who aren't above stealing such a thing-- and tugs on his leather jacket. Steve coughs twice into a kerchief and tucks it back into his jacket.

He's not terribly far behind Cael, exiting the other elevator just in time for Sam and Cael to exchange their pleasantries at the door before Cael heads in. "Sam," Steve says, pitching his voice to be heard. He heads down the hall at an unhurried pace, boots treading relatively quietly until he makes it to the end. Sam's shoulder gets a clap of greeting and Steve dislodges him from the door with an upchin at the apartment, locking the door behind him.

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael gives the man a once over as she's let in - looking him up and down as her brows knit together. "Hey," she echoes. "Look, if you're not up to this-" she starts, cutting herself off, and letting out a sigh. Is she just trying to put it off because the whole notion of this conversation makes her uneasy? Probably. Of course it's just then that Steve approaches. "Well. This probably won't take long, and we're all here. But seriously, if you're not up to it, Sam... Hey Captain Rogers." Yup, 'Sam' and 'Captain Rogers.'
    Despite her words, she makes her way into the room with her 'cargo' of beer. The two six-packs turn out to be a grab-bag assortment of bottles of different shapes and colors, with labels ranging from Bronx Brewery, to Brooklyn Brewery, to Coney Island Brewing, to Grimm Artisanal Ales, to Interboro - and a few more besides, and they're a mix of pilsners, pale ales, IPAs, stouts - and even a gose.
    "A coworker signed me up for local beer-of-the-month thing... And this is what happens," she remarks, as she sets the beer down on the coffee table. "...should be something in there for everyone." She pulls out a bottle of Coney Island's Mermaid Pilsnet - and pops the cap off with a bottle opener on her keychain - before settling into an empty spot on the floor, leaving the couch for Steve and Sam.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Immediately, Sam lifts a hand to forestall any further attempts to put this off from Cael. "I'm fine," he says, which is a hell of a loaded statement, but he gestures her into the apartment. "Just got back from a long drive, is all. Trust me, been through worse." In the past week, in fact. Post-roadtrip exhaustion is honestly kind of a fresh breath of air, after everything else.

    He waits where he's standing until there's Steve, taking up the whole doorway. Sam lifts his chin in familiar greeting, and it's mostly because he has his shoulder wedged against the door that he doesn't sway slightly at the clap to his shoulder.

    Sam bypasses the beer, straight back to the watering can at the window. "Oh, hell," he groans. "I didn't cancel any of my monthly deliveries." A passing car out on the street catches his attention, and he watches it until it's turned off onto 5th Avenue. "No way someone at Avengers mansion didn't get wine-drunk on my stuff." His head tips back and he sighs at the ceiling.

    After a moment of silent mourning, Sam's back to thumbing through the text message on his phone, turning one plant this way or that, dripping a very precise amount of water on another, etc etc. "So, why'd you ask to meet, Beck?"

Steve Rogers has posed:
"You're in a wine-of-the-month thing?" Steve says, brows rising at Sam's statement. "I wouldn't have guessed you for a wine drinker." He searches through the pile of beer, finds the darkest option, and pops the lid off with his thumb. Like a flicked quarter he catches it in midair and puts it in his pocket-- old habits, probably.

"Yeah, the text was a little evasive," Steve says. He does look a little wan, pale around the gills and maybe a bit of redness under his eyes. But he's moving around under his own steam with little issue.

Long week, as Sam said.

Cael Becker has posed:
    Yeah. Why, Beck? She takes a swig from her beer before she'll say anything. "Because Barnes looked at me like I was a complete idiot and told me I can trust no one more than the two of you," Cael remarks. "And that I should just come clean and tell my story. Which- will probably be laughably mundane for you guys, all things considered," you're stalling, Becker.
    "...look. This isn't going to be the easiest thing for me to share, because I've had it pounded into my head for seven years running that I shouldn't tell a soul. But as long as I have your word that nothing leaves this room..." She looks between the two men, waiting for their answer, "Then I can fill you in on how Barnes and I met."

Sam Wilson has posed:
    "I have depths, man," is Sam's initial explanation for Steve, though after a second he tips his head to one side. "I dunno. It was 2AM and I couldn't sleep, there was a sponsored segment on a YouTube video I was watching...."

    And the rest is apparently history. Literally, in the sense that there's no way someone hasn't already gone through the bottles in the last delivery, since Sam hasn't been there to claim 'em.

    He's still doing his plant-related due diligence as Cael works through her preamble for whatever it was she's brought them all together for, though after a bit he works out that this is serious business. So Sam makes a mental note for where he is on the plant checklist and comes over, settling down at the end of the couch that has his bodega haul waiting (going cold) in front of it. He folds one leg under the other and opens the plastic tab on his coffee to take a sip. For a long moment he eyes Steve over it, warming his hands around the cup, and then he looks at Cael. "Yeah," he says, with a single nod. "Okay. I promise your secret is safe with me."

Steve Rogers has posed:
"I'm good at keeping secrets," Steve informs Cael. He rests his shoulders against the wall behind him and leans into it. He probably needs the support more than he'd care to admit. "If Barnes trusts you, I trust you," he tells her.

Steve takes a sip of the dark beer. "But I'd feel a little better about things if I had some blanks filled in," Steve concedes. He nods at Cael and lifts his bottle at her in a prompt. "Go ahead."

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael gives a nod of things as both men promise to keep her secrets - but how do you even start with something like this? She helps herself to another sip of her beer - an obvious stalling tactic - before she speaks. "I'm in WitSec," she says simply, nodding towards Sam as she adds, "That's why I told you not to mention Phoenix. Cael Becker's never been there. I was Shelley Mason then." Just saying the name is strange - how long has it been since she said that name outloud? Or heard it outloud?
    "A combination of a shitty starting hand, and some poor life choices, led me to joining a criminal organization in Phoenix. I was just a stupid kid. I raced for them - and was the get-away driver when it was needed. I happened to be driving downtown when I saw a Super Soldier sized brawl smashing up part of the city. I'd- just lost someone, and there's this dude, you know? Like a couple dozen armed men against one guy. I opened the car door, he jumped in, we got out of there. There were these guys leaping from car to car chasing us - it was wild. I'd never seen anything like it. But Barnes, he shoots them down, we lose any other pursuit, and we managed to make it to the garage - the chop shop."
    She takes a deep breath in, letting it out slowly before adding, "Hell of a thing. Anyways, I stitched him up. Gave him a place to crash for a bit. And- he starts talking to me. Telling me I can do better than this shit life. That I'm just going to get myself killed for nothing. That I need to find my way clear..." She shakes her head slightly. "And there I am - some stupid, frightened kid. Trying to figure out why the hell he even cares what happens to me. You know, and also what the hell just happened at all."

Sam Wilson has posed:
    By the time Sam unwraps the paper around his sandwich, the cheese has kind of congealed and the bacon is pretty wimpy, but it's still... look, there are some things that are still *good* even when they're *bad*. Like pizza. And NYC bodega bacon egg and cheese sandwiches. So Cael talks, and Sam eats, with steady, careful bites as he listens.

    The whole Witness Protection thing doesn't seem to surprise Sam much. Like Cael mentions, he's had some peripheral exposure to what might be lurking in her background, enough of a hint that Sam could've pursued it, if he was that kind of guy.

    But he's not. Instead he sits there and listens, no judgment on his face as he intersperses her explanation with sips of coffee.

    Bucky's involvement, though, the details of it? That seems to give Sam pause, or at least he purposefully needs to take a moment, step back, and slot this new information into the running Winter Soldier timeline he has in his head. He holds his coffee up near his face, hovering, as he thinks.

    "Sounds like him," is what Sam decides on saying, at the end. Not just the needing-stitched-up part, though he does cast a sidelong glance at the empty couch cushion next to him, no doubt seeing Bucky sprawled out with his insides almost outsides in his mind's eye.

    Long week indeed.

    He's still mostly quiet, watching Cael, maybe thinking--or at least wondering if--there's more she wants to say.

Steve Rogers has posed:
"Why'd you help him?"

Steve lifts one shoulder, more twitches it. "I'm just curious," he clarifies. "Witness Protection means you already had someone coming after you once. Doing it twice is a pattern."

There's a moment of timing there, Steve watching Cael think and work back over the memories. Waiting for a chink in her memories so he can make the next question a probing one and catch her off-guard.

"You bail him out of his troubles, then... what, he bails you out of yours?"

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael takes another pull from her bottle. It's weird telling this story - and more than a little uncomfortable for her. "I wasn't WitSec at the time," Cael points out. "I was Shelley, then. Stupid, scared, angry... grieving kid," she explains. "I'd just-" She cuts off, and takes another pull from her beer - this one deeper than the others had been. "I'd just lost the closest thing I had to family. My foster sister - she was gunned down, and I couldn't help her. When I pulled out my phone to call for an ambulance, Anthony pulled it out of my hands. Said it was too late, and there was no point to calling the cops out to our garage. That there was too much evidence..." She shakes her head. "We tried to load her into one of the cars, get her to a hospital... She didn't make it." This little soliloquy is delivered down towards the floor, her expression tight with remembered grief.
    "That was a few days before I ran into Barnes. I didn't want to see anyone else get gunned down. And- and I think part of me didn't care if I got killed doing it. You know?"
    She lapses into a brief silence, which she ends with another drink from her bottle. "So, yeah. I guess so. I bailed him out... he bails me out. He gave me this fat wad of cash. Said I should either get as far from Phoenix as I could - or go State's Evidence to get into WitSec. I didn't much trust the government - but I was angry. I wanted... I wanted everyone to go down. I wanted everyone to pay for what happened to Alis."

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Sam's expression is tight, compassion warring with concern. His subtle reaction to Steve's questions--brow furrowing as he looks away, but then looking back just as quickly--suggests his thoughts were moving along similar lines, but he'd decided not to voice them.

    "Yeah, we know," he says, his mouth twisting into a humorless smile. "It's a common reason for people to get involved in dangerous professions, like being an FBI agent." Or a SHIELD agent. Or an Avenger. Or....

    Well. Sam's seen it plenty, and he doesn't doubt Steve has too.

    "Steve's telling the truth, though." And his smile is a little brighter, at that. "Usually is. If Bucky says he trusts you, it's enough for me. Besides, we've been out on the field enough that you've proven yourself. Sure the FBI is putting your skills to their best uses?" he asks.

Steve Rogers has posed:
"I think she's working around to that, Sam," Steve corrects with a gentle tone. He looks at Cael and gives her a small nod of encouragement. "Keep going, Cael. Take as long as you need. You said you were trying to decide whether or not to turn yourself in...?" he prompts.

Steve clears his throat once, twice, clearly trying not to cough in front of the other two.

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael shrugs her shoulders in response to Steve's question, though it's Sam's remark that gets a longer look.
    "Well... I mean. I did, in the end. Wore a wire, gathered what evidence I couldn, testified... most of them did some sort of jail time. Some of them we couldn't get enough on. Some of them are out already. There's plenty of people in Phoenix who'd love to to put a bullet in me and bury me in the desert. So..." So don't go mentioning Phoenix, huh?
    She finishes off her beer, then reaches into her pocket for her phone. After unlocking it, she pulls out a picture of a younger-looking Cael, perched on the hood of a car, smiling, with her arm around a smaller girl of similar age with short, black hair. The car is an atrocious neon green color, with black striping. She offers the phone over to Sam first.
    "Anyways. That's the story, basically. After stitching Barnes up, he gave me the money, and somehow convinced me to trust the government that screwed me over my whole life. I offered to drive him somewhere else, because I was worried those guys would track him. He said no. He said he needed to rest for a few hours. I got the hell out of there and left him to it. When I came back... the shop was trashed, and he was gone. And I was seated across from a detective a couple days later. And somehow... I got it into my head that I'd go to school, get a degree... and go into the business of ruining the day for organized crime. And if not for Barnes... I'd be dead, or a criminal right now. Most likely."

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Sam shakes his head. "Not what I meant," he says to Steve, but he tables it for the moment. The wrapper for his sandwich is now a crumpled ball on the table and his coffee cup is empty, though while he does eye up the beers on offer for a bit, his internal circadian rhythm has his brain set to 'morning' despite what the sky looks like outside right now.

    So he's gonna have to pass on the beer. That is a slippery slope Sam wants no part of.

    He leans forward to take the phone from Cael, and he looks at it for a long moment. Though Sam has a decent memory it's by no means photographic, and he clearly things this is important enough--to Cael--that he puts in the effort to remember the face of the girl next to her in the picture.

    After, he passes it back to Cael.

    "Are you sure you want to get involved with all of this?" Sam asks, and he waves his hand between himself and Steve as if that could communicate the sheer chaos and stress-inducing anxiety that is their lives and everyone involved with SHIELD right now. "Because it sounds like you have good reasons for the work you do in the FBI, and I don't want us bringing you into anything that'll jeopardize your job. That's what I meant. I'm not Buck, I'm not going to try to sway you one way or another--" because that would be massively hypocritical of him, "--but I do want to know where your head's at with all this."

Steve Rogers has posed:
"Wait, I'm missing something here," Steve says, before Cael can respond to Sam's last question. "All I heard was that you wanted to-- you needed to get some stuff off your chest," Steve tells Cael, brow furrowed. "I thought this was just a chat to bring us up to speed on your situation. Becker, if you're-- you can't be talking about getting mixed up in the situation with SHIELD," he protests. "Sam and me, and Buck, that's a different situation. We've got some protection if it goes bad. Our investigation is ongoing. Best case scenario is that SHIELD is totally compromised by HYDRA. Worst case scenario, we are all too late. If you get involved, say the wrong thing to the wrong person-- you could end up getting killed just for sticking your nose into it," he warns her. "These are people who are in all levels of government. You cannot trust anyone right now.":

Cael Becker has posed:
    When the phone is returned to her, Cael offers it over to Steve as well - wordlessly. Alis is gone, but as long as she can be remembered, even in this small way... it's better than nothing.
    She retrieves a second beer, popping it open, and looking between the two men. "This //is// just a chat to bring you guys up to speed on my situation," she promises. "Because as unlikely as it is - either of you unwittingly saying the wrong thing to the wrong person could get me in trouble. //I've never been to Phoenix//," she says firmly. Even though, clearly, the whole story has been about her life in Phoenix.
    "I don't want to get all up in your investigation - it's way above my paygrade, and I don't understand enough about what's going on to help you guys out properly. But... The way I see it, I owe Barnes. It was sheer luck he turned up just when I was ready to listen to someone. Sheer luck he cared enough to say the shit he did. I'm who I am today because that happened, and I //like// who I am today. Anytime he needs a little help pulling his stupid ass back out of the fire, I'm there for that," she says simply, and firmly. "And I guess the same goes for you two assholes, since keeping all three of you alive keeps all of you safer.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    It would be hypocritical for Sam to try and keep Cael out of this, because one: they've already involved her, and two: the gap between where he estimates his skills are at versus hers is almost null in comparison to, say, what Sam can do and what Steve can do. Not to say Sam has any issues about that difference, but he's pragmatic about that sort of thing.

    Sam isn't often the type to be hypocritical (shut up, Bucky) but he's still somewhat relieved to hear that Cael's just going to continue keeping her head down.

    In his pocket, Sam's phone starts to ring. He's reaching for it as he says, "Look, Cael, it's the same as before--I'm not going to say anything to anyone about you or Phoenix. Consider it forgotten." And then he's frowning at the screen, eyes narrowed. The song that's playing is potentially recognizable as something from Daft Punk but not the handful of songs that are popular (half-because they've been sampled by other popular songs). It is absolutely some kind of injoke, one that he doesn't explain as he stands and says, "Excuse me," before dipping into the bedroom.

    They'll both probably be able to hear Sam asking "What's wrong, why are you calling? You never call," before the door shuts.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Cael gets a level look from Steve when she calls him 'asshole' by proxy. But Steve accepts her phone all the same and looks over the picture carefully. His eidetic memory means he could almost reproduce it freehand from pencil once he's got it memorized.

Sam's phone call distracts him and he glances once after his friend until Sam disappears behind the door.

It's not like Steve can't hear the conversation, but he's at least doing his level best to politely ignore it.

"I appreciate you sharing the story with us, Becker," Steve tells her. "I know it's the kind of thing you don't want out in the open. Means a lot that you'd trust us with it," he says.

Steve gets to his feet to move into the kitchen, draining the last few dregs from his beer bottle and upturning into the sink to let it drip clean. ""Me 'n Barnes, we go back to when we were wearing shorts," Steve says. "Losing him during the war, that was..." Lips thin, purse, and he exhales. "Well, getting him back, it was-- getting my brother back. With some additional gunfire," Steve concedes, "but I can't really hold that against him."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Thanks, Sam," Cael answers simply - still sitting on the floor, now nursing her second beer. She takes a sip from the bottle before offering quietly, "I know it's been a sorta... double-edged sword, getting Barnes back. And- well, It's plain as day the guy's been through hell and worse. He's not right." There's sympathy, and concern in her voice.
    "But hell. I'd give almost anything to have Alis back. To have made different decisions. Or- I don't know. I don't know." She takes another swig from her beer before adding, "Anyways. Like I said, if you guys need me, if you need the back up - I'm there. All I ask in return is if you're ever in Phoenix-" Her voice cracks as she breaks off and clears her throat, tears springing to her eyes.
    "If you're ever in Phoenix, I'll tell you where she's at. Bring her some god damned flowers, and polish up the grave marker." Because she can't go there. And she hates it.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    There's not much conversation to actually overhear, at least over the phone. Just noise, a lot of it, some stuff that might be words but are too far away from the receiver to transmit properly, and more noise.

    Noise that eventually resolves itself into a few sharp bursts of gunfire.

    Sam's talking but he's not getting any response. "Buck? Bucky. Hello?" They're in a Harlem apartment, an old converted brownstone, so the walls are thin. Even Cael can probably hear him, pacing back and forth just beyond the door. Whoever actually lives here has the millenial habit of hanging tapestries, but that's more to muffle the noise of the neighbors than any sounds coming from inside the apartment.

    The bedroom door cracks open and Sam leans out of it, against the doorframe, leveling an exasperated look at Steve. "It's Bucky," is all he says; though he's about to continue, suddenly he's wincing and jerking his phone away from the side of his head while Bucky's voice, plain as day, starts yelling about HYDRA (well, telling them to fuck off, specifically) and then some more yelling, though this time it's almost conversational. Eventually the yelling becomes talking, and Sam knocks the side of his head against the doorframe.

    Well, that's a good sign at least. No more gunfire.

    Sam stares down at the phone for a beat, expression grim but considering, then disconnects the call. Immediately he's redialing it, though, and puts the phone back up to his ear. "Hey," he says as soon as it connects. Flat intonation, no affect. "You good?"

Steve Rogers has posed:
What can be said to that? Steve gives Cael a sympathetic look. There are a lot of gravestones he himself has to visit.

Then again, he /can/ visit them. Few are in a place so out of reach that he can't even go visit to mourn. Even France isn't impossible to get to.

But then there's the altercation over the phone, and Steve's exceptional hearing picks up on the agitation and tone coming from the other end.

"Of course it's Bucky," Steve says, wryly. He gets to his feet all the same and casually tucks the front of his shirt into his waistband, revealing a pistol holstered there, and starts looking around for a cache of spare weapons. "Is he actually good, or 'I'm in over my head, don't come for me' good?" Steve inquires of Sam. "Because he does that second thing kind of a lot."

Cael Becker has posed:
    "Great," Cael remarks. She looks at the beer in her hand... and then sets it aside on the floor, before pushing herself up to her feet. She brushes away a tear that she will never admit was there, as she waits for Sam's response to the all important questions of 'How Is Buck?' "My Corvette's parked downstairs," she remarks. "It'd be a tight fit for three..." And four isn't happening unless one of them clings to the roof, but...

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Without looking over, Sam knows precisely what Steve's probably about to be looking for, so he points towards the couch. The duffel wedged underneath it isn't really worthy of being called a cache, but it has a small variety of firearms and probably more knives than necessary. Maybe Bucky helped put the bag together; maybe it's just easier to get your hands on knives than it is guns. Debatable, really.

    He holds up a hand, after, listening with narrowed eyes to Bucky's response over the phone. Which to Steve is enough to determine that he's *not okay* but also apparently not in mortal danger at the moment, after some sort of altercation in Hell's Kitchen and an assist apparently thanks to the Shadow.

    Cael will just hear Sam's voice go up an octave, and see his eyes go wide, as he asks, "What do you mean they *melted*?"

    No, no, not the important thing here! Steve's question gets a tense but unsure shake of his head, because Sam's still working on that one. "Are you safe? Do you need me to come pick you up?" He means via the wings, though he does tip his head towards Cael in acknowledgment of her offer.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve pulls the duffel bag out. It's definitely not the highest-end stuff, though in fairness most modern guns are a significant improvement over what Steve's carried into combat next to his shield. A couple or three handguns, a shotgun, and a military-type rifle, along with a few boxes of ammunition.

He's loading ammo into the magazine without looking, and gives Sam a steady look while the Falcon talks to Bucky. "Sam, may I-- would you-- give me the --" There's some back-and-forth with him and Sam, and Steve leans over to shout at Bucky.

"Bucky! Will you give us a straight answer already? Do you need extraction or not?"

Cael Becker has posed:
    ...right. Wings. She forgets about that sort of thing, sometimes. For the moment, Cael leans back against the wall, watching Sam and Steve alternately as she tries to piece all of this together. But really, there's only so far you can get with this much information. "...melted?" she repeats quietly. Did they honestly mean that //people// just... //melted//? She'd say that seems rather implausible.
    But she started a bar brawl in 1943 with a non-consensual kiss the other day. And that sort of sentence should give everyone a headache.
    "You fly, we drive?" Cael suggests, as she watches Cap rummaging through weapons. She has her own pistol at her side, but if they're going into a Hydra-related extraction then - yeah. We'll probably want a bit more firepower than that.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    Sam's eyebrows rapidly approach his hairline at whatever it is Bucky is saying on the other end of the line. "Portals? Like--" But he's cut off, and he starts walking over to Steve, obviously willing to do the hand-off if he could just get a word in edgewise. "Look, Steve's--"

    The only answer Steve's shout gets would be a dial tone if this wasn't the twenty-first century. Instead the phone screen lights up against Sam's cheek and he pulls it away to stare down at it, legitimately gobsmacked.

    "I'm going to kill him," Sam says, and then he squeezes his eyes shut. One deep breath is all he allows himself before he hits redial, again.

    This time around, as he stands there, it rings and rings and rings... and eventually goes to voicemail. As Sam smashes his thumb against the disconnected button, he's saying "Cut him up, use him as bait, feed him to the fish," as he heads back into the bedroom, the door closing behind him.

    "I'll be suited up in ninety seconds!" he calls out, loud enough for both Steve and Cael to hear.

Steve Rogers has posed:
"You've got sixty!" Steve shouts back at Sam.. He's already strapped; he offers her the choice of long arms, then takes the one she elects not to use. "Radio this in," he tells her. "We're gonna need a cordon around the area and city cops need to know to stay clear. Sam and I have Avenger's credentials but Bucky is a lot harder to explain. We might as well avoid awkward conversations."

Instead of the door, Steve goes to the window. It's a few stories up; the Captain looks up and down, making sure no one's in the way, then beckons Cael over. "Come here, grab on," he tells her. "We're going the fast way down. Sam!" Steve shouts. "Radio us the location once you're in the air, we'll meet you, okay?"

Cael Becker has posed:
    Cael takes one of the offered weapons, and with her phone in hand, seems ready to call this shit-show in. "Do we have a location?" she asks uncertainly.
    That's about when Cap makes his plan for getting out of the apartment known. She takes a moment stare - and can instantly feel her heart thudding in her chest. They're going to jump - out a third floor window? That's fucking insane.
    "...yeah," she says after a moment. "Yeah, sure, Cap." What else do you say? She pockets her phone, makes sure the strap on her revolver is secure, and gets a firm grip on the weapon she just grabbed - before wrapping her arms around Steve.
    Shit shit shit shit shit. This is a bad idea. What is she doing? What the fuck is she even thinking?
    "I will fucking haunt you if you let me fall," she mutters under her breath.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    "You wanna come do up my buckles then, Cap?" Sam calls back, frustrated and falling back on friendly bickering as an old reliable standby. He pops his head out of the door, down to his undershirt and obviously working to get into his tac gear. "Hey, be careful of the plants!" It'd take a lot of manuevering to get out of the window without disturbing the line of pots on the ledge.

    He stumbles, probably because he's trying to pull on his boots while overbalanced, but at least the door frame is there to brace against. "I'm serious, Steve! Watch the plants!"

    When the stated sixty seconds are up, Sam's definitely not fully suited up, but he's got the essentials on. He can do up the zipper and aforementioned buckles on his jacket as he takes the stairs up three at a time, and get his goggles in place while he's shouldering through the door to the roof.

    Preflight check say what?

    All Sam does is make sure the wings deploy--which they do--before he jumps off the edge of the roof. The second or two of freefall is... maybe less intentional on Sam's part than he means it to be, and he definitely grazes a few tree limbs before the engines fire and he's soaring up into the air.

James Barnes has posed:
    ... guess who's standing there on the street. Well, just 'blinking' onto the street, as Steve and Cael make it out the window. Bucky... that's right...

    He has his head down, his hands shoved in his pockets and he's limping pretty heavily on his left leg. He doesn't see Sam take off. He's... a little up in his head and distracted. They MELTED.

    But maybe Sam will spot him, or the purple glow of the portal thing he steps out of at least?

Steve Rogers has posed:
Errol Flynn, swinging on chandeliers-- eat your heart out. Steve's got a good grip on Cael, and the second she is hugging him they go over the edge of the fire escape.

WITHOUT hitting any of the plants.

Steve's free hand slaps the guardrails on the way down to rob some momentum, each blow ringing the metal loudly. The third one he grabs, holds on to for half a second, then falls the last 12' or so and hits the concrete with a flex of his knees and sets Cael down.

He looks up and catches the shotgun he'd dropped right before they took the plummet.

"Bucky!" Steve shouts. Portal, ok. Weird, but not an important issue right this second. "Sitrep!" Once he's sure Bucky's at least aware of their presence he tosses the shotgun borrowed from the safehouse weapons cache towards him so the Winter Soldier's got the kind of firepower he needs for doing what he does best.

Cael Becker has posed:
    Holyshitholyshitholyshitholyshit.
    Bucky can probably hear the way Cael's heart is pounding from across the street. As she's set down, for a moment she thinks her legs might give out on her. That was insane. //Insane//.
    Nope. No. She's good. She's got this
    ...Fuck.
    It takes her another moment to realize that Bucky's right there, and she decides not to try to parse that fact. She simply offers a brief nod and, heart still hammering away, turns slowly while searching for signs of any hostiles.
    "We, uh- still need me to phone in that cordon?" she asks.

Sam Wilson has posed:
    The purple blip is a hardly-there thing in Sam's peripheral, so it's good he looks over to check on the success of Steve and Cael's defenestration attempt. Which he wasn't concerned about--really, he was just worried about the plants--because they've landed fine, exactly as Sam expects.

    What he doesn't expect, though, is Bucky standing there as well.

    The mechanical whine of the EXO suit's engines precedes Sam's appearance at street level, his attempted walking-off of the momentum as he comes in for a landing turning into a stumble that then turns into him in a completely ungraceful three-point landing that would've probably scraped off some skin on his hand and knees if he wasn't geared up.

    He stands and waves his left hand at his side a moment to work through the friction burn he can still feel, though, and then he's walking up on Bucky.

    The sitrep can happen. Though Sam looks like he wants to lay into Bucky pretty hard, he casts one look over their resident bionic staring machine and, well. You can take the medic out of the military but you can't take the medic out of Sam. Whatever snark he wants to bite out about this most recent situation is tabled for now as he steps in closer.

    Strike that; the sitrep can happen inside. Sam's not going to accept a no on that one.

James Barnes has posed:
    Reflexively, instinctively, Bucky's right hand comes up and snags that shotgun out of the air without him really even looking at it. He even gives it the 'one hand jerk-off' off to cock it. Oh. Hey. That's a weapon in his hand, not his 'gun'.

    He glances over his shoulder where the portal just vanished and says, "Oh, hey, that was just my ride... I'm good, no incoming."

    What injuries he does have are relatively minor when major is things like insides being on the outside? He has a grazing bullet wound to his left thigh, a more 'through and through' to his left side, but it's his outer side, nothing but fleshy bits bothered. He might have a shiner coming up on his right eye and his left cheek is already bruising. It'll all heal quickly.

    As he limps past Steve, he hands the shotgun back off again, kinda shoving it against his friend's chest like, 'here, you take it'. "You need to work on your landing," he quips at Sam, but there's not real humor or much of anything else in his tone. *BLIP* Brain on overload, really on overload. "I'm fine, Sam." ...and really, he walks on his own. It hurts, but he does it anyway, because he's F.I.N.E.

    "I'm tired and hungry..." is ALL he says on his way to the front door of the apartment building.