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salvage from a dusty forgotten corner of the Mega Scrivener Doc O’ Fic. I wrote this a really long time ago. I think it was my first insight into what I wanted the Barnes family to be. Gabe Jones’s POV, at the point their captivity before the rescue by Steve when they started to realize that there wasn’t anybody coming for them.
The rustle of fabric, someone moving, alerted Gabe that someone was coming, and he wiped his eyes and turned his face so his state would be less obvious.
The warm bulk of a body settled next to him with a quiet sigh, and he recognized Sarge more by his breathing than anything else. They knew one another very well physically, by now; Gabe rather thought he could probably distinguish his cellmates by scent at this point. Not that he’d want to.
“Hey Jonesy,” Sarge breathed, leaning into his shoulder. “Want me to leave you alone or do you want me to tell you a story?”
Gabe laughed weakly. “You’re the oldest kid in your family, aren’t you,” he said.
Sarge huffed a breath, clearly a laugh. “How’d you know that?”
“Takes one to know one,” Gabe said. “How many little sibs you got?”
“Three,” Sarge said, “all girls,” and then there was a pause and his body language hitched a little, and he corrected, softer, “Two.”
Gabe sucked in his breath, and let it out slowly. “Sorry,” he said; it was pretty clear what that meant.
“Naw, naw,” Sarge said, “I mean— Kitty had pneumonia in, like, ’31, it’s been a long time, it’s just— I forget sometimes. She was like ten.” He shook his head. “I got a brother out of it instead, though, the nurse’s son had pneumonia the same time and he made it when Kitty didn’t, so I just kept him instead.” He glanced over at Gabe, teeth shining in the dark, a silent rueful laugh. “Like a sheepdog, hadda have the right number to herd.”
“Four’s a pile of kids,” Gabe said. “I only got one each, a brother and a sister.”
“Had so many cousins,” Sarge said, “we was more of a tribe than anything. People thought we was a gang. The Murphy boys, the terror a’ Brooklyn.” He laughed silently again, like a fox.
“Your name’s Barnes, though,” Gabe observed, puzzled.
“Mom’s brothers,” Sarge answered. “She was a Murphy.”
“Ah,” Gabe said.
“Your brother in the service too?” Sarge asked.
“Nah,” Gabe said, “still too young. Your sisters married yet?”
“Not last I heard,” Sarge answered.
“What about your brother?” Gabe asked.
Sarge laughed the same silent laugh again, which pressed his shoulder against Gabe’s harder for a moment. “Steve,” he said. “My best pal. Nah. He’s, the Army wouldn’t take him. He’s real sickly, got a heart defect, that kinda thing.” He glanced over at Gabe, expression unreadable in the dark. “I mean, bravest guy in the world, fights like a lion, y’know? But just, his body just can’t keep up with him. And I’m… it’s not that I’m glad, I just, I wouldn’t want him to be here, y’know?”
“Well,” Gabe said, “not like this.”
“Exactly,” Sarge said. They sat quietly a moment before Sarge continued, “Still and all, I hope I see him again before I see Kitty again, if you catch my meaning.”
“That I do,” Gabe said, “that I do.”
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