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Sam has never been the best with idle time. He's always wanted to be on the move somehow, be that as an active duty officer or just running around the Mall and being in the hotel makes him a little stir crazy. While he's aware that the current HYDRA situation means he probably shouldn't try to go make himself a hero back home, it leaves him a little at loose ends otherwise.

So he decides to start exploring doors. Some of them are easy enough to figure out - Disneyland is always a classic. Some of them are a hell of a lot more complicated and he's not sure why he decided heading into an unknown jungle was a good idea but now he's deep in the thick of it, the canopy of trees making it where he can't get a good idea of his bearings. The door is long gone, far behind him, and ahead of him is...well shit.

"That is a dinosaur. Dinosaurs are supposed to be dead." Except, apparently, not when you choose the random jungle door and end up in Jurassic Park.

(Sam isn't going to be surprised if someone tells him that it is Jurassic Park. His life is just weird and strange enough for something like that to be an every day occurrence.)

The dinosaur in particular is a T-rex and he thinks, if he keeps very still, maybe he can get out of this one alive. Still, that being said, he wishes he had his wings and some firepower to help even up the odds.

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A moment more he waits, crouched low in the foliage, eyes sharply scanning the area around all three of them: Men and lizard. Indecision twists low and sickly in his stomach, the feeling of it entirely wrong. He was crafted to be decisive, to be ruthless, not to second guess.

He came up with no less than six different ways to get them both safely out of here from the first ten seconds he was through the door. That isn't the problem. It's whether Wilson will let him.

He has no idea what Rogers may have told his friend since DC, can't know whether it would make any difference if it did. His intuition fails him in a lot of things in this new identity, but he feels certain of this: Were it him in Wilson's place, he wouldn't trust himself.

The Rex isn't interested in his internal debates, however, and swings its massive head closer, spurring him into motion. He stands slowly, right hand splayed before him in silent instruction to Wilson: Don't move.

Of all people he expected to see in the middle of the dinosaur jungle, Winter Soldier isn't it. Sam isn't sure whether or not he should trust the guy isn't going to try to take him out but when caught between a T-Rex and an assassin, choices are few and far between. Damn.

He stands stock still except to nod once, a quick bobble of his chin, just to let him know he got the message loud and clear.

Standing as still as Wilson is, the creature might as well not see him at all, its lower jaw coming within scant feet of the top of Wilson's head as if he were no more interesting than the foliage. If it's sighting by scent, it's no better at that than seeing.

If he can slip back into the shadows, he should be able to move swiftly and silently to a position far enough removed that discharging his sidearm will provide Wilson the distraction he needs to escape. He takes one slow backwards step and is dropping into a crouch again when the sun pushes through the gray clouds and reflects off his left arm like a beacon.

There is little time to do more than shout roughly at Wilson to run before he himself is running away from the door, dodging around tree trunks as the jungle behind him explodes with pursuit.

Sam doesn't need much encouragement to run. Whether it's death by T-rex or death by Super Soldier, he's not really interested in either prospect. While Steve's a good friend, sometimes he wonders if he's worth all the hassle he's brought into his life.

(Answer? Yes.)

Sam runs like hell for the door and something stops him and makes him turn back. Is Barnes coming through too?