Chapter 4

So Far

Christmas dinner. The smells of turkey and cedar mingled, as Bucky wandered into the kitchen.

Steve was at the counter, Anna teasing him for the secret combination of seasonings in the Rogers family turkey dressing. Steve wasn't exactly smiling, but he seemed to be enjoying himself.

If Bucky's parents did move to Jersey, to live with Becca and Frank, he hoped Steve would still visit them. And keep an eye on the girls, wherever they went.

Steve glanced up, caught his eye, made an exasperated face, and grinned at his friend. I'm fine, he mouthed.

They sat around the big table, and Bucky cracked jokes with Frank, listened to the laughter. He savoured every mouthful; after months of army camp rations, his mother's cooking was heavenly.

Little JB cooed, and laughed, and beat his spoon on his high-chair.

"You want more potatoes?" Becca asked.

Steve's gaze caught on his, and something flashed between them. Something vaguely unsettling, a sense of needing to savor this moment, because there might not be another like it.

He felt his mother watching him, turned his head to smile reassuringly. The candle flames danced in her eyes, reminding him of the sun setting in a deep blue sky…

"… Buck?"

He jerked his head up, met Steve's gaze across the table.

"Pass the salt?"

"Oh, sorry." With a flick of his fingers, he skimmed the little bowl across the glossy varnished mahogany. Steve caught it without looking, his eyebrows pinching together. Bucky gave him an exasperated look, then smiled and mouthed, I'm fine.

Steve made a wry face, then unconsciously rubbed one hand along his jaw, the stubble he'd accumulated over the last couple days. Mabhuti, sitting on his right, poked at him. "Will you draw for us later?"

"Sure, if we have time before you have to be in bed."

"You haven't let me see anything else from the sketchbook yet," Bucky said, stirring his meat stew to cool it.

"Almost done," Steve answered, catching Mabhuti's glass as his hand knocked against it. "Just got one more to do."

"Better be good," Buck said, then pointed his spoon at his friend. "Hey, you should show the king some of your stuff. Get some royal commissions, make a little honest money."

He was half teasing, but Steve ducked his head, blushing, and looking oddly guilty.

"He has spoken highly of you," Shuri said, from her seat beside her mother at the foot of the table. "I would love to have some pictures of ancient technology, like cars and things, to keep in my lab and make fun of when my projects don't go well."

"Oh, they don't always work?" T'Challa grinned across at his little sister,

"Only the ones you want me to work on, because your ideas are so small they are hardly worth trying, and invariably fail. I only do because you are my king."

Bucky had to duck his head and fight a smile, but a pea hitting his hand told him he'd been spotted.

"Shuri," her mother Ramonda reprimanded.

Glancing up, he caught Shuri's wicked grin, and Ramonda's apologetic smile. It was so full of motherly love and exasperation, that Bucky was glad of Khwezi demanding his help with cutting up his meat so he could hide his face.

The food was all very African, but the table settings American style. Buck had found it easy down in the village where people were quite traditional and often ate with their fingers, but he just quietly picked the dishes that could be eaten with one hand.

And that was how most of the dinner went. The king and princess teasing each other, and dragging Bucky in, Nakia asking Steve about his childhood, and actually getting answers, and the mothers all sharing stories.

It had surprised Buck at first, the accessibility, the down-to-earth caring of this royal family. A younger single-mom and an old grandmother, chatting with the queen mother about food and education, a little girl asking the princess for fashion advice, little boys asking for the king's battle stories… And he and Steve, two really old, or not so old, white guys stuck in the middle of it all.

It was almost like… a family. He slammed the door on that thought.

Steve was his only family now, not that he deserved him either, but he would never refuse—could never refuse—the other man's unconditional love and friendship. Steve knew the boy Bucky had been, the kid who just wanted to play baseball and invent something amazing that would help people.

But the Wakandans didn't know that part. They knew first-hand what he was capable of now. Even if he hadn't actually done it, he'd been accused of it and T'Challa had almost killed him for it, which said something about his reputation. Yet they accepted him, helped him, befriended him, let him play with their freakin' kids.

He released a long sigh, remembering something Shuri would mutter under her breath sometimes. What is my life? Well there was a word to describe this part of it: beautiful.

Dessert was not a normal part of an African meal, but they had it that night; apple cake and ginger cookies. Steve didn't know where to look when the server set the cake in front of him, and Shuri led them all in a hilarious ragged version of 'Happy Birthday', which Buck had taught the kids. He ended up just staring at Bucky, muttering equal threats and thanks, which only Bucky could catch.

Mabhuti climbed into Steve's lap, ate a few mouthfuls, and suddenly fell asleep. Buck thought he remembered his sisters doing the same thing, and was inclined to laugh at Steve's momentary panic, and his awkward movements as he tried to eat without disturbing the child, before he realized Mabhuti was out for good.

Yep, beautiful.

Steve and Bucky were invited to stay for a couple drinks with T'Challa, which turned into several drinks, since none of them could get drunk. It was sundown by the time they took their leave, with promises to host the royals for a return dinner party sometime soon.

Both men were silent as they swooped through the city, heading for the 'outside'. The view was breathtaking, as the last of the sun's rays warmed the countless buildings, which Bucky always thought looked as much like something from Bible-times as the future. The Wakandans ability to combine tradition and technology, which of course was tradition to them, was just another of their admirable traits.

Once outside the dome, Steve asked their driver (or was that 'flyer'? Buck was never sure) to stop. The man looked at them in surprise, but did as they requested. "You are going to walk?" he asked.

"Yeah," Bucky said. "It's a nice night."

"Enkosi kakhulu," Steve said.

"Enkosi," Buck echoed.

"Ndiyayonwabela," he replied, with a nod and a smile, as they jumped to the ground, then banked the hover-craft in a sharp U-turn and sped away.

"They're so quiet," Steve mused, as the two men started to walk, Bucky's internal compass reminding him which way.

"Howard Stark would be jealous. I'd bet they had that tech here all the way back then."

Steve laughed. "You remember that?"

"How could I forget? It was the last time– The last day of us being… I don't know, normal?"

"Come a long way since then. Those were good days, weren't they?" Steve sounded wistful; Bucky could see his little smile. "Not all of them, but a lot of them."

"Yeah," Bucky said. "Yeah, they were." He felt a sudden pang, picturing the two young men they had been. He of the perfectly parted hair and gleaming grin, dashing style. And Steve, small, skinny Steve, with a fire in his belly, and a soft, funny side that so few people got to see. They were so far from that now.

Steve stopped, turned to him suddenly. "If you could go back–"

"I thought we didn't ask 'what if'."

Steve didn't seem to notice. "–would you do it again? Join the army, and… follow me?"

Bucky opened his mouth, and hesitated, looking away out toward the horizon.

"Oh, gosh, I'm sorry, Buck, I shouldn't ask that. Stupid question. Sorry–" He stopped as Bucky looked back at him.

"Fight for my country? Fight for you? Of course. Fall off a train, get captured by Russians, and turned into a killing machine? Not so much."

Steve's face…

Bucky plowed on. "But if I had to fall to save you, I would. It's everything after. I don't know. It's strange: we don't get to see the future, but everything we do now sets up the future." He sighed. "Most days, I can't really believe in God anymore. But sometimes… I don't know. Sometimes I almost see a plot. An insane sci-fi plot, of course, a lot worse than any of those radio shows. Buck Rogers and the Twenty-fifth Century?" A little laugh. "Here we are in the twenty-first. What are the odds?

"Look, maybe our parents were right. Maybe we will understand it all someday. I don't know. All I know is: I want to… remember the good, and… try to make up for the bad."

Steve had turned away, staring out across the miles of thick grass and stubby trees, now veiled in twilight shadows. "You think about it that much?" Enough to have it all come out in a speech?

Bucky shrugged. "Just another thing to keep me awake nights." He saw Steve's Adam's apple bob as he swallowed, saw the way he was pinching his lips together. He sighed, putting his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Stevie…"

They stood for a while, Steve's face pressed into Bucky's neck, his grip so tight it was hard for Buck to breathe. But he was just glad his brother wasn't afraid to let him see the hurt as well as the hope.

Steve mumbled something, and Buck shifted. "Huh?"

Steve straightened, pulled away. "I'd miss you," he said softly. "If you weren't here."

"Yeah. I'm glad you made it this far, too."

A ghost of a smile crossed Steve's lips. "Changing isn't always a bad thing."

"I know."

Bucky hooked his arm around Steve's neck, pulled him back in, and they hugged like they did that long-ago night.

"You're a punk."

"Jerk." A long sigh. "I'm proud of you, Buck. Really proud."

Something in Steve's voice sent a hot wave of emotion through Bucky. He didn't dare look in Steve's face, and tightened his grip, resting his forehead on Steve's shoulder. Steve's hand moved to rub up and down Bucky's back, a soothing rhythm.

"When we were wrestling this morning, I suddenly remembered… and for a second, I was scared I'd, I don't know, hurt you. Considering where you used to be. You've come so far." He gently pulled away, then when Bucky didn't look at him, he ducked his head to meet his gaze.

"You should know, I'm proud you're my friend."

Bucky seriously couldn't decide if he should punch Steve or hug Steve for making him cry.

Steve knew he had a stupid grin on his face, as Bucky turned away and started walking again. "Let's see how proud you are when I beat you home." He bolted into a dead run.

"Hey!" Steve blurted, half-laughing, before he sprang after his friend. It took him a few strides, but when he caught up to Bucky, they ran side-by-side, pushing each other to their limits.

It was the first time Steve had run with his friend, since… Well, the chase in Bucharest didn't count. So, he basically had never done this: run for the pleasure of it, with someone matching his every step. The scent of crushed vegetation carried on the warm, dry breeze that washed over his face; he could hear Bucky's breathing beside him.

In a few minutes they slowed to a steady run, the sort of pace they could keep up for hours. With each step Steve could feel his heart pounding, every beat exploding with joy.

Bucky. Bucky. Bucky. Bucky.

This was BUCKY he was running with, BUCKY. He was happy, he was whole, he was here. Steve felt as if he would burst with the exaltation pouring through his veins.

He glanced sideways, trying to gauge Buck's feelings, and found the other man looking back, his own face split by a brilliant smile.

They said nothing, there was nothing to say.

They ran on, shoulder to shoulder, into the dark.

And if you'll take my hand,
Please pull me from the dark,
And show me hope again.
We'll run side-by-side,
No secrets left to hide,
Sheltered from the pain.

-'So Far' by Ólafur Arnalds

Notes/Translations:

Xhosa:

Ndiyayonwabela: My pleasure.

That ended up being much more cheerful than I expected, but it was also kind of filler because I was working on two projects at once, and happy stuff is easier for me to write :) Sorry it's shorter.

I highly recommend the YouTube video of that song, 'steve & bucky pull me from the dark'. It is the most beautiful, heartbreaking Steve & Bucky music video out there.