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.

"Great", Dum Dum huffed. "Couldn't you have brought a sane medic with us?" The question was addressed to Steve.

"Sorry", Steve smiled. "He was the only one available".

"Grub?" Basil was distracted from any retort by Jim Morita handing round open cans of rations. He took one and the proffered fork. Over a year in the army and then a month or so in captivity had destroyed any pickiness he'd had about food. He dug into the mystery can with no fuss. (It might have been spam? But he couldn't tell). More cans were passed the the conversation lulled as they all ate.

"Alright", Steve voiced as he stood up. "Bucky and I are in one tent. Basil and Gabe in the other. Dum Dum and Pinky in the third. Sam and Jim in fourth, and Monty with Jacques in the fifth. We can swap tomorrow night".  With a few comments the men all finished their food and rose to deal with whatever they needed too.

"Hey man", Gabe greeted cheerfully as he came over to join Basil. "You'd better not giggle in your sleep. That shit is creepy man".

Basil laughed, not his wild mad laugh, but his joking laugh. He didn't want to freak out his comrades just yet. "Don't worry. As I said before, it was purely the drugs and shit. I seriously don't recommend it". Gabe chuckled and patted him on the shoulder.

"Alright. I can't promise that I won't kick you if you do start laughing in the middle of the night though".

"Fair enough". Basil shrugged wind began hefting his bags towards the tent. Gabe helped and they choose the tent nearest to them, setting their bed rolls on the caves floor. It didn't take them long to fall asleep. The exhaustion of the day hitting Basil like a train. He was out within minutes.

——

"Basil".

Some one was tapping on his leg. Basil frowned and rolled over blearily. The tent flap was opens and he could dimly see the form of Bucky slightly illuminated by the glow of a lamp. The man was peering through the tent at him. "Basil", he hissed. "Come on. It's out turn on watch". Basil nodded and Bucky disappeared.

Once he had pulled on his jacket and boots with a yawn, careful not to disturb Gabe. The man was snoring slightly in his own blanket. Basil trudged outside and collapsed onto a log seat near the fire. The rifle left by Jim was propped next to him. Bucky seated on the other side of the fire pit. Blue eyes watching him between the flames as he cleaned out the sniper rifle lying across his lap. His hands carefully rubbing a small piece of rag over each piece.

Basil yawned and rubbed at his eyes harshly with his fingers. Trying to stay awake was harder than he had anticipated. He glanced round at the woods. His still new night vision surprising him. There was a squirrel in the tree over his tent. His eyes tracking it's climb along the branch and up the trunk. Then his attention was stolen by a bat flying over head. It's little wings flapping frantically as it chased after a moth. Basil grinned, charmed by the little creature.

"What are you looking at?" Bucky asked.

"There's a bat".

Bucky looked up. "It's too dark to see. I suppose I believe you now about the night vision". He chuckled and pulled something from his pocket. "Read this".

"Captain America VS the red skull", Basil cackled slightly. "You brought one of Steve's comics?"

"Only so I could make fun of him for it", Bucky admitted. Basil laughed and Bucky joined in. For a minute they just chuckled at each other, eyes bright in the fire light.

When the laughter drifted off, Basil rested his head on his hands. He watched as Bucky seemed satisfied with the now clean rifle. He reassembled the weapon with the deftness of long practise. It was the same way Basil would assess and care for a wound. The pressure of battle hard drilling these skills into their heads so much that it was practically muscle memory by that point. Something they did with half their minds.

"So, any other symptoms?" Basil asked.

"You asked me that this morning", Bucky pointed out. He smirked over the flames and Basil felt himself flush. The words from that morning flashed in his mind. Basil pushed dit aside.

"Yeah. But it's been almost a day since Sarge. Things can happen suddenly, like my headache". He pulled out the notebook. He grabbed his pencil and looked up expectantly.

Bucky sighed as he put down his rifle and rolled his eyes, but there was fondness in his smile. "Three weeks since rescue", he narrated. "Not sure what symptoms there are. Less tiredness maybe? I feel more energised".

"You kept up with Steve all day today while the rest of us were lagging. I think you definitely have more energy than the rest of us", Basil muttered as he noted it down.

"That's just cause you're slow Parrish", Bucky retorted.

"Eff off Sarge", Basil shot back. "Any other symptoms?"

Bucky shrugged. "Nothing, you?"

Basil copied his shrug. "Nothing new".

"Come on Parrish", Bucky teased. "Verbalise your symptoms to the doctor".

"I am the doctor".

"Just do it".

Basil mock groaned but the corners of his lips were twitching. "Three weeks since rescue. Symptoms include a migraine which caused vertigo, nausea, lack of coordination and sensitivity to light. Lasted about twenty minutes and resulted in the ability to see in the dark", he rattled off.

"Good", Bucky praised. "Any more symptoms?"

Basil frowned and took a second to feel the weight of his body. His legs were sore from all the marching and his back ached from the bags. But there was nothing off. Maybe he needed a drink but nothing weird came to mind. He shook his head. "Nothing else so far".

Bucky hummed. "That's hopeful. I don't like the idea of these hydra bastards playing around with us like we were their toys". His face soured at the memories of that white tiled lab and the cages. Basil swallowed and kept his gaze on the small notebook.

"I don't particularly like it either". It came out as a whisper. "I honestly thought I was going to die there".

"Me too. I'm glad you didn't Parrish".

Basil looked up and smiled. It was a soft and vulnerable thing. The same smile he had used when they had been strapped to those metal tables, barely able to see each other and relying on stories to get them through. It was a smile that only Bucky had seen. The self beneath the sarcasm and cocky walls. "Thank you Bucky. I am not sure what I would have done if you had died".

Neither mentioned that Basil had used Bucky's name. The sound of it made all the difference. The almost confession drifting into the night. Bucky didn't respond. The shine of his ocean blue eyes across the fire said enough. The two men shared a private smile. The tension between them so strong that if they reached out and embraced, there wouldn't be much of difference.

In between them, the fire cackled merrily. The smoke and sparks driving into the night.

Unedited

AN; The tension is so strong they might as well kiss.