It was a depressingly familiar tale. His own skin crawling at parallels he was only just now starting to see. There would likely be far, far more than he ever wanted to know under the surface and that alone was enough to spook him slightly. Never had he wanted another to step through the murky hell of what heâd been through. Feet sinking into tepid water of âjust this onceâ and soft ground that began to stick far more than support. By the end heâd grown fetid moss and had been left for what heâd assumed he wasâŠ
(He still felt like it, to be honest. Remnants of what was once clear and bright, overgrown with so many exceptions there wasnât anything left of the idealistic young man with expectations in his mind.)
The breath heâd taken in was long past due. Exhaled in a low whistle as he finally closed his eyes. Steeling the parts of himself ready to enact justice; that wouldnât help them here. Now wasnât the time to act emotionally. Not when he knew this enemy very, very well. They could afford to bide their time. They would, too, up to a point. What they did with that given time was critical.
âThey arenât gonna help ya if you go back, Rafi.â This he was insistent on. Eyes snapping open to hold Rafi down with a somber look. A knowing look. A pleading look. Please donât buy their liesâŠÂ âI know you know.â Or so Rafi said. But he knew, just knew how twisted things could get. âButâŠtrust me, theyâre gonna come at ya someday and promise you the world. Tell you they can fix it, will fix it, that youâre hurtinâ more people than you know. Theyâll say just about anything to get you to go with them, will promise you freedoms and considerations. But please me, PROMISE me-â
He reached over then, grabbing Rafiâs hand with both of his. Less a comfort and more to ground them both in this moment. This critical, very crucial moment where his voice dropped and every ounce of lived experience seeped into his words. âYou wonât believe them.âÂ
Self-consciously, he dropped Rafiâs hand. Glancing away even as he got up. Overcome. Hands rubbing his forearms, trying to chase away what lurked below. Taking a deep breath even as he watched the night air condense against the window.
Get a grip, Barns, get a damn grip.
âThe advantage youâve got is you know theyâre lookinâ and you probably know âem better than they think you do.â He turned back then, small smile on his face. Panic of early carefully locked away again. âAnd you came here. Know more than a few ways to keep outta sight. Especially when youâve got a microscope on ya. So guess the real question is, what are you wantinâ to do next?â
     There may come a point where Barneyâs desire to enact justice would come to be needed, but the man before the redhead right then was tired. Exhausted, if he was honest, right down to his bones, and the way he turned his head to look up at Barney when the man got insistent showed that plainly. He nodded, averting his eyes when all of the reasons he expected to hear if someone willing to talk instead of shoot found him fell out of Barneyâs lips, and then Barney had his hand in both of his, and he flicked his eyes back up to him.
      âI know, Barney, I do,â he said, even if he also knew there would be truths in their lies, things he couldnât argue with when he knew resisting them was causing trouble and even pain for people around him, and he knew just as well that heâd struggle with that part. His family would be a mess when they were given a story, whatever it was, and he knew it wouldnât be anything in favor of him. Probably that he was dangerous, that heâd stolen something, that he was a fugitive. Anything to give them reason to doubt him if he went to them for help, and though he didnât think any of them would turn him in if he showed up, he also knew theyâd be under surveillance. The way to keep the people he loved safe was to stay away from them, and that was specifically why heâd gone to someone that the lab wouldnât look for. They had his records, but it would take time to find Barneyâs name, if they ever did, because they hadnât worked together in years and it was just the one team. Â
     Some bonds, like surviving against the odds and digging each other through blood, dirt and bullets, had the deep roots to last even without regular contact to nourish. âI wonât believe them, I promise,â he said, because that seemed to be a serious sticking point for Barney, and maybe saying it would help cement that truth in his mind. He needed to figure something out, once heâd rested and could think straight, could work on a plan. Â
     The question from Barney was a tough one because of those needs, if he was honest. It came with a sigh out of Rafi, more of the exhaustion showing through, the pain that Barney wasnât even aware of settling into his muscles and joints like winding down was the perfect excuse to become a problem, but he knew that he was lucky it hadnât been as hard as it could have been before heâd found somewhere safe. A point for willpower, obviously.  âI wanna sleep, if Iâm honest. Havenât done much of it since I got away, too paranoid, and I was either drugged up to my eyeballs or hurting too much when they had me. Then I need to come up with a plan, figure out how to get out of this. Itâs a private lab, so if thereâs enough trouble, the government guys will probably want to cut their losses and leave the lab to take the full fall. Might be able to take advantage of their panicked self-preservation, I donât know.â