Author's note:
So, here it is! Bucky's bookend to Steve's 'Way Back When'.
The chapters are longer and a lot... deeper, I guess. I didn't realize how much work this would take, first shifting to Bucky's POV for an entire chapter fic (though there will be a few snapshots through Steve's eyes; couldn't resist:) and then the research to make 'my Wakanda' as authentic as possible.
There will be lots of talking in languages other than English. Wakandan (otherwise known as Xhosa) is a funny language to work with and I use a combination of Google translate and online dictionaries. All other translations are courtesy of Google.
The culture references are a combination of various African countries and what we glimpse in the movies. Any suggestions to authenticate this story will be welcomed!
The farming/agricultural stuff is taken from my own experience, with African alterations of course.
I have massive respect for people from Africa and their way of life and I hope that comes through.
Of course, there's all the usual stuff from Bucky's past (and Steve's), but I do my best to acknowledge the darkness, without lingering there.
A reminder that references will be made to Way Back When and Christmas Again, but this can be read alone.
Chapter titles are taken from songs in my S&B playlist, which I hope to pull together on YouTube sometime.
Hope you like it!
This one is for my Three Musketeers: Claire, Mary, and Sis. With massive thanks to sista Griselda Banks who continues to inspire.
Chapter 1
Guide You Home
June 4, 2017
Approx. 7 AM
Picks up three minutes after Way Back When
(In a nutshell, Steve just flew halfway across the world to find that Bucky's free from HYDRA's programming, and now it's time to celebrate.)
He'd only been out of the city a week, but Bucky Barnes had almost mastered swimming in the river with one arm. Except having his best friend trying to dunk him was a new wrinkle.
Except… it wasn't. Even as Steve lunged at him, and he dodged, taking a wave of water in the face from Steve's landing, Buck knew he'd done all this before. Several times at the cottage in Maine. Even though Aunt Sarah would have skinned him alive if she knew what he was talking her sickly little boy into.
Of course, he wasn't so sickly now. Buck gave a grunt of surprise as two strong arms grabbed him from behind and hoisted him out of the water, before tossing him further out into the river. The water closed over his head, before he could yell even one of the insults running through his mind.
He thrashed a bit, before he realized it was too deep for him to touch bottom, and he let himself just float. His head broke the surface and he sucked in a lungful of fresh air, before he found himself snorting and coughing, having gotten water up his nose again.
Then Steve bobbed up next to him, grabbed his arm, towed him back to where he could put his feet down. "Revenge is sweet, huh, Steve?" Bucky spluttered, wiping his face.
"You're okay?" Steve asked. Darn those worried eyes!
"I must'a done that to you a dozen times," Bucky shrugged.
For a moment Steve went still, staring at him, and Bucky suddenly wondered how the heck he was going to answer the flood of questions racing through Steve's eyes. But Steve just grinned, "Yeah, you must have."
Side-by-side they made their way back toward the shore, until they hauled themselves out onto the dock. Steve looked down at himself, then Bucky, the water streaming from their clothes, which were now plastered to their skin.
"Ain't we a pair," Bucky cracked. "Two old men, lookin' like a couple of drowned rats."
Steve was laughing. Face-crinkled-up, mouth-open, lose-his-breath laughing. Buck was laughing too, with the sheer ridiculousness of, well, everything.
"Come on," Bucky finally said, when they had both quieted. "You can come get some dry things at my place."
Steve peeled his shirt off and wrung the water out, before pulling it back on. "I think the clothes I have'll be big enough," Bucky added. He back-handed Steve in the bicep. "You're gonna make me look bad in front of the kids."
"Already regret asking me hang out at your place?" Steve asked, grinning.
"Never," Bucky replied, so fervently he surprised them both.
Steve chuckled, and for a brief moment, Bucky was caught somewhere on the outside, watching himself and his best friend in the whole world, walking a hard-packed path away from a river in Africa, with the sun spilling over their right shoulders, making jokes, and just… walking. No marching, no hurry, just like a stroll in Prospect Park or– Steve's shoulder bumped his, drawing him back to the present, but the sense of- of- of- inadequacy remained.
This was all too good for him. He didn't deserve this; he could never deserve this.
Steve nudged him again. "You okay?" he asked, but then a sudden understanding knocked the worry out of his eyes, and he simply slung an arm around Bucky's neck, and Buck let himself breathe again.
Today wasn't about him, it was about Steve. If ever Steve deserved something, he deserved a day to relax and enjoy himself, and celebrate his birthday. He had always read Steve, like an open book, large print. He'd been trained to read a person's face, their body language, to distinguish between the cleverest disguises, to sense the slightest shift of posture in a fight. But as kooky and sentimental as it might sound, somehow, after all these terrible years, he could still do the one thing he had been most afraid to find lost. He could still read Steve's heart.
Buck had sensed Steve's weariness all the way across the world, from wherever the 'Secret Avengers' had been the last time they Skyped. And after the final breakthrough, after coming down from the shocking high of what that all meant, he had looked at the calendar and known what he wanted to do.
It had killed him not to contact Steve. But the work of moving out to the country, (not that he had much to move, but the mental processes had been challenging) and the joy of physical labor on the animal pens, and adding another room to the hut, and especially that dock, had been an okay distraction.
"I'm sorry," he said suddenly.
"Sorry for what?" Steve angled his head to look into Bucky's face.
"For not telling you sooner." Buck looked at the ground. "I just wanted to… make it special, I guess."
Steve was grinning, Bucky could feel it all the way through his arm. "Well, you got that right. Sure, you had me a little worried, but," he squeezed Buck a little closer for a moment. "I think it was worth it."
They walked in silence for a minute, before Steve added, "I'll keep saying it until you believe me."
Bucky snorted. "And I'll keep saying it until you believe me."
They were both laughing.
Bucky would never be able to fully describe that moment when the truth of what Steve meant to him, and, to a lesser degree, what he seemed to mean to Steve, had hit him.
Dr. Dal, as Bucky called him, his head shrink, had ended up helping with some of the physical work of moving and was handier than Buck had imagined, having never seen the man outside his office. They had been taking a break, sitting in the sun and drinking something cool, and talking about… whatever. Some question had come up, something he'd heard someone say (where or when he could not recall), the question of how, in 70 years in a hell-hole called HYDRA, he had never been able to break free, until that day in DC when the world turned on its head.
The conversation had jumped around, but Buck kept coming back to that nagging thought. Until he was lying in bed that night and…
'cause I'm with you 'til the end of the line.
He had rolled over to bury his face in the pillow as he wept at the upsurge of emotion that swept through him, something so powerful he would be ashamed to call it anything less than love. Love for the man who saved him.
HYDRA had dug their claws into him with that first needle in Austria. But when he fell from the train, his whole world had slipped through his fingers. As the Winter Soldier rose, Bucky Barnes kept falling.
Only now could he look back and see how that moment, when Steve called his name for the first time in those 70 years, had irrevocably cracked the foundation of the Winter Soldier. All during the fight on the helicarrier, every time Steve spoke, every time those bright blue eyes met his, it was like a knife in his head, persistent, nagging. Just like Steve himself, the little punk.
Then he had stared into Steve's battered, bloody face, and heard those words (throwing Bucky's own words back in his face), and something clicked. Steve. Don't hurt Steve. No one hurts Steve. Help Steve. I help Steve.
Steve fell, the Soldier let go, and that was when Bucky stopped falling.
Once his mission to save the world had been accomplished, Steve had been willing to do anything, even die, to break through to his friend. He almost had died, because of Bucky's abuse…
Buck shuddered, and something warm touched his cheek. He realized that he and Steve were standing at the crest of the hill, and Steve was facing him, one hand on Bucky's good shoulder, the other resting against his neck, Steve's thumb brushing along his jaw.
Bucky blinked at his friend, tears prickling at the backs of his eyes, and relief swept across Steve's face, before he pulled Buck into an embrace.
This was going to be a day for hugs, Bucky thought, as he rested his chin on Steve's shoulder. He closed his eyes and breathed deep, let the ache bleed out, let the comfort flow in.
He could hear Steve breathing in his ear, shifted a bit, then wrinkled his nose. "What the heck did you eat last night?"
Steve pulled back, gave him a bemused grin, before frowning guiltily. "I… um, don't remember."
Bucky went to cross his arms… and opted for jabbing Steve in the chest instead. "Okay, punk, when was the last time you ate?"
Steve dropped his chin, rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. "Umm, actually–"
Bucky cocked his head at a telltale growl from Steve's stomach. He shot Steve a disgusted look. "And I'm supposed to have a bad memory? Dang it, Steve, you're supposed to take care of yourself." He turned and stalked down the slope in the direction of a group of about a dozen huts. "I'll bet if it wasn't for Sam watching your back, you'd have dropped dead of either starvation or exhaustion on some stupid mission, and then where would I be? You're only human, you know. For gosh sakes," he added, half under his breath.
He sensed Steve jogging to catch up, but here came the kids, swarming around him, pressing against his legs, demanding to know where he had been and why he had gone swimming in the river without them. Bucky laughed at them, greeting them each by name, "Avi, Mabhuti, Nontasasa, Fundani…" His voice faltered as the smallest of, what he called 'the Three Musketeers', gabbed his hand, little fingers slipping to close around his last two fingers.
"Khwezi," he smiled, and the little boy skipped in place, swinging his hand.
"Ingcuka Emhlophe. Can we eat with you?"
"Yes, you can, but go say 'hi' to Steve first."
Still giggling and chattering like a flock of birds, the rest of the children, Nontasasa and her little brother Mabhuti, Avi and Fundani, abandoned Bucky to surround Steve.
Steve was staring at him, the oddest storm of emotions in his eyes. "They won't eat you, idiot," Bucky called, and Steve's smile broke through the clouds.
Khwezi was still hanging off Bucky. "What will we eat?" He added something in Wakandan, too fast for Bucky to catch.
"Just wait and see," Bucky grinned. He disentangled his hand from the boy's and stooped to scoop him up in his one arm. Khwezi's skinny little arm wrapped around his neck.
A clear memory of carrying the twins, Anna and Elizabeth, home from the store, Steve helping Mrs. Barnes with the bags of groceries… He smiled.
Bucky led the way off the beaten path in the direction of his own hut, glanced back at Steve, who had a kid on each arm, another on his back, and Nontasasa dancing alongside.
"Ungumntakwenu?"
Bucky blinked at Khwezi, and the little boy tried again, gesturing between Steve and Bucky. "Ubhuti? He is your…?" he stuck for a second, then his eyes lit up. "Brother? He is your brother?"
"Ewe. Ewe kunjalo. We will have a party for him tonight," Bucky added, trying to cover his emotion, as he set Khwezi back on his feet.
"Kwaye siya kudanisa?" the boy asked in excitement, jumping in a circle.
"Dance? Ewe. Yes, you can dance for him."
Khwezi bust into a lively song, and the others joined in, laughing and bouncing where they hung off Steve. Avi had his arms wrapped around Steve's neck from behind, and Steve made a choking noise, before sinking to his knees in mock defeat.
Chuckling to himself, Bucky knelt to restart his cooking fire. "Why you do woman's work?" Umkhulu would say, and Bucky would laugh and tease that she was just trying to find him a wife, and his cooking was actually very good.
He cocked his head and heard her voice for real, calling the children. "Fundani," he called. "Umkhulu is calling. Go tell her you are eating with me."
He ran off, Avi on his heels, and Steve collapsed into a sitting position. Mabhuti crawled into his lap, and Nontasasa snatched him up. "Uya kufumana! Go change your clothes," she added to Steve. "It will take too long for you to dry in the morning."
Steve looked over at Bucky, eyes laughing. "Les hommes sont nés pour être gouvernés par des femmes."
"Malheureusement pour nous." Bucky answered.
Some days Bucky wished for a camera, or at least Steve with his sketchbook, to capture the beauty and the… surprises that kept showing up. But neither would be needed to seal this image in his memory: Steve, sitting cross-legged in the dirt, a sketchpad in his lap, five little dark-skinned kids crowded around, spellbound by the pictures flowing out of the big white man's pencil.
Then there was Steve's face when Buck tossed him the roughly wrapped package, and he found the paper and pencils. "I haven't drawn since…"
"Christmas?" Bucky finished. "Well, hurry up and get going. I need some stuff to paper my walls with."
"Don't think you can get any more popular with these munchkins," Steve grinned. They were standing just inside the hut, the children tending the fire outside, and Steve lowered his voice. "Who are they all?"
"Mabhuti is Nontasasa's little brother. Their father was killed in one of the revolts after the whole…" Bucky waved his hand, "challenge thing. The Three Musketeers live with Umkhulu—their grandmother. I don't know what happened to their parents."
Steve was silent for a minute. "Funny," he muttered. "I guess I had this idea Wakanda was… perfect."
"We're all human," Bucky said quietly. "What's the saying? To err is human?"
Steve smiled. "To forgive, divine." He clapped a hand on Buck's shoulder, and ducked out the door, then paused. "What are we having for breakfast?"
"Pancakes," Bucky called back. "I think I can still make those."
Steve's laughter was music.
Now, Bucky sat back on his heels. "Hey, Steve," he called. The blond head, among the dark ones, jerked up.
"Yeah?"
"Avec des baies ou sans?"
There he was, laughing again. "Avec. Like Sam made them?"
"Oui."
"Umzalwana Weengcuka Ezimhlophe," Avi said, patting his hand on Steve's shoulder. "Keep drawing. It is nwabisa."
Steve twisted his head to give him a Huh? look.
Nontasasa noticed. "Brother of Ingcuka Emhlophe. This is…" she hesitated, looking for the word, "fun!"
Steve raised one eyebrow. "Brother of who?"
"Ingcuka Emhlophe," she said again, pointing at Bucky this time.
And there went that grin. In that smile, it was yesterday that they romped through the woods of Maine, or downed their sodas at… wherever they always went, or teased Dum-Dum.
Bucky stayed somewhere between smiling like an idiot, and swallowing hard, the whole time he was stirring up batter and flipping pancakes. It had taken him a couple tries to perfect the whole process over an open fire, but the knowledge he'd gained back in the war had slowly returned.
They feasted that Independence Day morning, with a Coke for Steve and a Pepsi for Buck, which the kids all begged to sample, and none of them liked except for Mabhuti, who liked the Coke, and Khwezi, who slugged back half of Buck's drink before he could stop him.
When they had popped the caps, both men paused, looking at each other.
"To today," Bucky said quietly.
"And tomorrow," Steve added.
"And good memories every day after," Bucky finished.
They each took a long drink, and came up laughing, with suspiciously damp eyes.
Umkhulu came by for the children as they were cleaning up, waving away Buck's offer of help with whatever chores she had cooked up.
"Unjani namhlanje, uCaptain?" she added to Steve. "Welcome to Wakanda. I know Ingcuka Emhlophe has been waiting for you. You are a good man to take care of your ubhuti. Your brother," she added, mistaking Steve's confused look.
The little old woman gazed steadily at Steve, who looked back, a torrent of emotions swirling in his eyes. Only Bucky's enhanced hearing allowed him to catch Steve's whispered, "Thank you, ma'am. Enkosi kakhulu."
Bucky glanced over in time to see Steve bend down and pull her into a hug, which she returned. See, pal? You've done the right thing more than once. You are a good man.
"It's his birthday today," Bucky called over. "His…"
Nontasasa jumped in with a quick burst of Wakandan, and Umkhulu smiled even bigger. "Usuku lokuzalwa olumnandi."
Steve grinned, needing no translation. "Again, enkosi, ma'am."
"Now, come on you ezincinci." She caught Avi and Fundani's hands and strode away. Nontasasa grabbed Khwezi and Mabhuti, who waved over their shoulders as they skipped off.
Steve stood watching them go, and Bucky came up to nudge his shoulder. "Quite a family, aren't they?"
"Yeah," Steve murmured. "Sure are." He turned suddenly to give Bucky another hug. "I'm glad you're here," he whispered in his friend's ear.
Not 'what if'. What is.
"Right back at'cha, Stevie." Bucky squeezed hard with his one arm, then stepped back to rub his hand over Steve's hair. "Welcome home, pal."
When your hands worn down to the bone
And you're not sure you can stand on your own
And the darkness won't leave you alone
Well, I will guide you home.
-'Guide You Home' by Sugarland
Translations/Notes:
Wakandan (Xhosa)
Ingcuka Emhlophe: White Wolf (Memorize that one. It'll be used A LOT.)
Ungumntakwenu? : Is he your brother?
Ubhuti: brother
Ewe kunjalo: yes, of course
Kwaye siya kudanisa? : And we will dance?
Uya kufumana: You will get wet
Umzalwana Weengcuka Ezimhlophe: Brother of the White Wolf
nwabisa: fun
Unjani namhlanje, uCaptain?: How are you today, Captain?
Enkosi kakhulu: Thank you very much.
Usuku lokuzalwa olumnandi: Happy Birthday
ezincinci: little monkeys
French (sorry, couldn't resist. Wanted to do this since I heard Steve in TWS.):
Les hommes sont nés pour être gouvernés par des femmes. : Men were made to be ruled by women.
Malheureusement pour nous. : Unfortunately for us.
Avec des baies ou sans? : With berries or without?
Avec: With
Once I have given a translation, I will not likely repeat it in the notes, especially for common phrases, like 'thank you', 'how are you', and the names and titles of people. I will always try to give some idea of what people are saying in the context. And if you really think it drags the story down, please let me know. This chapter probably has the most jabbering in it anyway.
Hope you liked it, and feedback is always appreciated!