Wakanda 2016

Outside of his hut, Bucky sat cross-legged on the ground surrounded by the contents of the trunk. His old army uniform and boots, neatly folded to one side. The dog tags Tony had made him placed on top of his blue jacket. The contents of his wallet, the letters and family pictures, lay on the ground in front of him. In his hand he had fanned out the three pictures of you he had found in his wallet, starring at them as the memories came flooding back. Bucky brought the pictures to his face, and cried.

Cried from the pain of loosing you again.

Cried from the relief HYDRA hadn't taken his memories of you away from him.

It was well into the afternoon by the time Steve came back. Walking through the tall grass that lead to the little hut, he slowed down when he saw Bucky sitting on the ground, back to the wall, the contents of the trunk spread out around him, starring into the distance at nothing in particular, lost in memories. Steve knew that look, he had seen it before during the war. An image of Bucky sitting on the side of his bed starring out the window flashed in Steve's head. He shook the memory away, and tampered down the emotions it had brought up. Steve had never felt more helpless in his life than during those weeks in early 1945, watching his best friend grieve the love of his life. It would be different this time he told himself.

Steve was also relieved to see that the memories were still there, and that they had found their way back from where ever Bucky had buried them to protect them from HYDRA. He had really feared that they had been wiped away forever, like so many others had been.

He knew this was causing his best friend a great amount of pain. But Steve also knew, that for Bucky, the pain it would cause of knowing he could not remember you, could never remember you, would be worse. He knew Bucky would rather loose his soulmate all over again, than to have never had known you, than to have never have had those moments, no matter how few or short they were. He knew he would for Peggy.

Steve sighed heavily, pushing the thoughts of Peggy aside, before he picked his step up again. 'This will make things a little easier' he thought 'I hope...'

Even though he had heard him coming, Bucky didn't acknowledge Steve until he was standing right in front of him, blocking his view, forcing him back to the present. Bucky blinked a few times before he looked up at Steve. Steve gave him a warm smile, and just stood there, waiting. 'A little anxiously', Bucky noted. He then noticed Steve had some new clothes and soap in his hands, which made him raise an eyebrow in question. Sure, the robes he was wearing weren't everyone's cup of tea, but he didn't think Steve cared about what he wore. He'd never said anything before, never even hinted that they might of made him uncomfortable. So why now? Why did he need to change into "western clothes" now? Were they finally kicking him out? Was Steve taking him away from here?

Steve saw that Bucky was beginning to spiral.

"Hey, hey, there's nothing to worry about Buck." He said as he bent down in front of him, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing gently, hoping it would be enough to stop Bucky before he went down the rabbit hole.

It seemed to do the trick, mostly. When Bucky's focus came back on him he handed him the clothes and soap with a mischievous smile.

"Here, you need to clean up, we're going to the palace, there's someone there you need to meet." Steve said with a hint of excitement he was trying hard to supress.

Bucky looked up at his friend even more confused than before, as he took the clothes and soap, clearly not having picked up on the excitement Steve was trying to hide, misreading Steve completely. Who would want to meet with him? Was this the part where he would have to repay the Wakandan's back for their generosity? Was this how they would get to let them experiment on him, as a way to say thank you for all they had done for him? Bucky had to stop himself from spiralling, and remind himself that Steve would never agree to it, and sure as hell would never go along with it. And Bucky hadn't interacted much with the King, but he seemed like a good man, and he doubted Princess Shuri would stand for it either. Bucky took some deep breaths, trying to calm himself. 'Steve wouldn't. Steve wouldn't. Steve wouldn't.' He repeated to himself like a mantra.

Bucky felt Steve squeeze his shoulder again, and he looked back up into the familiar blue eyes, eyes that were comforting and safe but that were also worried for him.

"You know there aren't any strings attached Buck. They helped you, and continue to help you because it's the right thing to do." Steve reassured him.

Bucky just nodded. Steve sighed and stood back up, giving Bucky some space as he began to carefully put everything back into the trunk before closing it. Picking it up he went inside, and placed it on his bed. He placed his hand gently on the top of the trunk and brushed it lightly, as he held back the tears that were now blurring his vision and threatening to fall. After a few minutes had passed and Bucky hadn't come back out, Steve began to worry and looked in from the doorway to check on him. Steve saw Bucky standing in front of the trunk with his hand on it, and realised Bucky was lost in a moment. Steve turned away and looked out in the distance. He hated seeing Bucky like this and wished he could make things easier for him. 'Well you could just tell him' a little voice inside his head told him. Right, except he couldn't, at least no yet, that was the point. Steve found that his feet were suddenly very interesting, as he went over the plan for the -enth time in his head. He didn't like it, but it was the best one they had. Besides Bucky would figure it out, he always did. Hopefully before they got to the city. And everything would be alright.

After a few more minutes Bucky came back out, and without saying a word picked up the clean clothes and soap, and headed to his makeshift shower behind his hut.

Bucky never thought he would prefer to wear the wakandan robes over regular shirt and pants. But have you tried buttoning your pants with just one hand? Or your shirt? Forget trying to lace up shoes. After quite a struggle and a few brief moments of thinking of asking Steve for help, he was finally dressed. He looked at the flapping empty left sleeve and sighed. He thought about using the sling from his robes, but as he picked it up he realised it needed a wash, and placed it back down. His next idea was to tuck it into his pants, but he didn't like the feel of it and quickly pulled it out. He finally settled on rolling it up instead. It wasn't the greatest roll job, but it would do. He then combed his wet hair, and slipped on his sandals. 'Well that's as good as that's going to get I suppose.' He thought as he looked down at himself before walking back to the front of the hut.

"Well lets get going then." Bucky said, trying to hide his nervousness. He really just wanted to get what ever it was over with as quickly as possible.

Steve had to smile to himself as he stopped him, and began unrolling Bucky's left sleeve. He then rolled it back up neatly and pinned it down. 'It's not a tie, but it'll do' Steve thought as he finished. Bucky gave him a tight grateful smile and they headed towards the city.

They had been walking in silence since leaving Bucky's hut. And the closer they got to the city, the more Steve was getting worried about Bucky, and re-thinking the wiseness of the plan. Although Steve had gotten better at the whole spy, undercover, covert thing, especially since being on the run. He knew he was still a lousy liar, and had no poker face. He might now be able to briefly fool a stranger, but Bucky knew him too well. Ever since they had been kids he had never been able to hide anything from Bucky for very long. And that wasn't even taking into account the skill set he'd acquired while being the Winter Soldier. Bucky should have already figured everything out. But Steve could tell that he hadn't, and that he was trying and failing to. He knew bringing Bucky the trunk would throw him for a loop, and he was now cursing himself for not realising how much the new memories would unbalance him. Of course they would, how could they not? Steve really should of known better, but this whole thing had thrown him for a loop too. It was causing him to rethink alot of things, and think about things he didn't want to. And it was giving him a migraine. Yes, Steve was seriously rethinking the point of keeping Bucky in the dark.

Steve was hiding something from him, something big, that much Bucky knew. But every time he tried to figure out what it was, his insecurities tried to use Steve's strange behaviour against him, trying to undermine his relationship with Steve, shake his trust in him. And every time they tried, Bucky would hear your voice "He's your brother" breaking through the darkness like a beacon of light. Anchoring him in the storm of his insecurities and guilt. Your beautiful smiling face would then appear in his mind, a flash from a different memory every time, leading him away into another tender moment. He missed you so much, and by getting lost in a memory Bucky could convince himself it was like having you back. That he was back then with you, when life was simpler, before everything happened. Taking him away from trying to figure out what Steve was hiding. A little voice in him mused you and Steve were somehow in this together, trying to keep him from deciphering Steve's odd behaviour, and figuring out what he was hiding. And that thought brought him great comfort. He trusted you, he trusted Steve. And had it not been for his persistent demons bringing him back to the question of what was going on, he would of stayed lost in his memories.

Even though Steve was taking him the "backway" into the city, Bucky recognised rather quickly where they were going, which only drove his anxiety and doubts into overdrive. They were headed to the medical centre. More specifically, they were headed to the exact same lab he had been kept in while Princess Shuri worked to remove HYDRA's programming.

Had they realised they had missed something? Was he not cured? Was there something else HYDRA had put in his head? Had they lied to Steve, were they walking into an ambush? Were they going to strap him down and test on him?

Steve could see Bucky getting more and more on anxious and on edge, and did his best to reassure him. He was grateful the halls were mostly empty, and anyone they did cross barely gave them a second look. As they got closer to the lab, Steve suddenly noticed that Bucky had stopped walking and turned around to find him in a full blown panic attack.

"Hey, hey, hey. Look at me Buck. You're safe. This isn't for you. You're ok, you're safe. Just breathe. Just focus on breathing."

Steve did his best to help his friend out of his panic attack, as he tried to ground him. It took a good 30 minutes for Bucky to calm down, and another 30 to get Bucky to walk up to the lab. It took Steve promising, several times, that he didn't have to go in, but that he needed to see the person inside. And once he had done that they could leave if he wanted.

Why Steve just wasn't telling him who it was he needed to see didn't make sense to Bucky. 'Unless...' they were hoping to gage his reaction to seeing this person. 'Oh god!' It was one of his captors wasn't it. No. It was one of his victims. Or a relative. God, he can't do that. He can't face them. Oh god, he can't breathe.

"Buck, it's nothing bad, I promise you." Steve had placed a hand on his shoulder, making him look at him, giving him a reassuring smile.

It was taking everything he had not to tell Bucky, but the decision had been made to not tell him anything yet. And god damnit they had made him promise. 'Damn moral fiber' Steve thought. They needed to know what he remembered and what he didn't. And they didn't want to taint his recollections in anyway. Or his reactions. They needed to know what they were working with, what they're starting point was.

Wearily and still panicked, Bucky stepped up to the opaque glass wall, his trust in Steve the only reason his feet were even moving at all. Bucky closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. 'Steve says it's nothing bad, it'll be ok. You'll take a quick look, then leave. Easy peasy.'

Bucky opened his eyes, obviously still on edge, and nodded to Steve. Steve then nodded in turn at someone out of sight and the opaque glass became clear, letting them see into the room.

Bucky's eyes went wide in shock. It wasn't possible. How was that possible? He turned to Steve, so many questions crossing his mind. He took a step closer to the glass and put his hand on it. How could that be? You had died, yet there you were, laying in a hospital bed, with various screens surrounding you as medical personnel moved around the room. You looked so peaceful lying there, eyes closed, dressed in the white medical robe the Wakandans had provided you. Bucky took a closer look at the various screens in the room. One displayed your vital signs, which all appeared to be within normal limits. There was another that seemed to be monitoring your brain activity, and another displaying your skeleton and other body functions, none of which Bucky understood. The medical staff were working around you calmly, and didn't seem to be treating you like an experiment, and seemed to genuinely care for your well being, and that brought him some comfort. But none of what he was seeing was explaining how it was possible that you were lying there, alive.

"How?" Bucky was barely able to say.

Before Steve could give him any sort of answer, someone else behind them answered for him.

"That's what we need to talk to you about."

Bucky looked behind him to find Princess Shuri and King T'Challa standing there. Bucky frowned confused as he looked back at you lying there. There were a lot of things he wasn't sure about, thanks to HYDRA, but there were some things he definitely knew.

He looked down at his hand.

He was standing in front of a grimy sink and mirror, his tactical suit covered in blood, the leather slowly absorbing it as it dried, into every pore, every seem, every buckle. It was everywhere. The smell of coper filled his nostrils. He looked down and saw his blood covered hands, there was so much blood. It was dry now, but he could still feel the warmth it had had not too long ago on his fingers. Could still feel its wetness and stickiness as he rubbed his fingers together. The blood had seeped into the grooves and joints of his metal hand and up his arm, had gotten under the plates. He'd never be able to get all of it out now.

The room was small, poorly lit, dingy, damp. It smelled of blood, mold, damp dust. There was blood on the walls, ceiling, floor. Some of it very old, some of it more recent. You were shackled by your hands to the ceiling, naked from the waist up, barely holding yourself up on your feet. Your back facing him. Cuts of various lengths and depths, and in various stages of healing littered your back and arms. They handed him a knife. Finish your handiwork Soldier. They ordered him to do.

Your naked body laid on the cold dirty floor, your back and arms littered in bleeding cuts, your face and front hidden from view. He stood above you, a growing pool of blood spread from beneath you. You were so pale. Your chest barely rising and falling, as your breaths were getting shallower and shallower. The blood reached his boots and began to flow around them. He reached down to you.

He looked back up into the room.

"But I killed you." He whispered to himself.

"No you didn't." Steve said as he grabbed Bucky's shoulder, turning him around. "No you didn't." He repeated more firmly.

Bucky shrugged Steve's hand off of him "I did, Steve! I did!" Bucky said, pain, despair, guilt flashing in his eyes. He turned back to the glass. "They made me….I killed her… I remember killing her…". Bucky barely got out, as tears began filling his eyes and he looked down at his trembling hand again. Closing it in a fist in an attempt to stop the tremor.

"Buck…." Steve gently placed his hand on his shoulder once more, and turned him around slowly. Making sure Bucky was looking at him. "What you're remembering… what you think you're remembering… it isn't the whole story. I promise you Buck, you didn't hurt her, and you certainly didn't kill her." Steve said with all the conviction he had.

Bucky didn't believe Steve at all. He wasn't sure of a lot of things, but he had killed you, that he knew.

No matter how many times they would put him in the chair, Bucky always remembered all his kills as the Winter Soldier. And out of all of them, yours had always haunted him the most. In between the flashes of blood and pale skin, there would be flashes of a warm smile and soft eyes, feelings of warmth and safety. At the time he hadn't remembered who you were, who you were to him. But he had figured you had probably been important to him somehow, which was why you had to die. Which was why he had to kill you. Which was why HYDRA had turned you into a test. A test he had passed.

Or had he? No, he had. The feel of your blood on his hand said he had. The sight of a pool of blood underneath your pale body said he had. The coppery smell of blood in his nostrils said he had.

Yet things weren't adding up.

Up until now, Bucky hadn't wondered how you had found yourself in the HYDRA facility, he knew how. But now that he remembered you from the war, things were less clear. And Bucky wondered how HYDRA had gotten to you on the battlefield. Then again it wouldn't of been hard, the frontlines were chaotic places, making you an easy target. And after he fell from the train, they had both of you. 'But why the charade?' He thought, 'It doesn't make sense'. Bucky cursed the gaps in his memories, there was till so much he couldn't fill.

In the end, Bucky decided it didn't really matter how HYDRA had gotten to you, it only mattered that they had. And they had made him kill you.

Which brought him back to… how were you alive?

He looked at you lying there as flashes of new memories from his time as the Winter Soldier began popping into his head. Fragmented memories that made no sense, that had no context.

Lying in a bed, in a dingy room, your frame tucked into his side, him holding you protectively.

You on your knees, arms tied behind your back, looking up at him, telling him "it's ok" as he brings the barrel of the gun to your forehead, his finger moving to the trigger.

You're lying in a hospital bed, battered and bruised, the numbers on the monitor not encouraging. "I have a new mission for you Soldier" he hears Peirce say.

You're being dragged out of your cell, kicking and screaming, he just watches as you disappear around the corner.

You're lying on a table, so pale, the monitor is beeping frantically. He's lying on a table next to you, a small tube from his arm to yours.

He walks into a room, your sitting on the bed back to him, they lock the door behind him.

You're in a hallway, the exit is so close, you're telling him to run. "No! Not without you."

Looking through his sniper scope and seeing you sitting on a large rock, taking aim, finger squeezing the trigger without hesitation.

As Bucky tried to sort through them and put them in order, the list of inconsistencies began to grow. And with that a faint hope began to spring inside him, that maybe Steve was right. Maybe what he remembered was wrong.

"Come on pal, there's a lot we need to talk about." Steve said as he tried to gently guide Bucky forward.

There was only one way to find out.

Bucky reluctantly let himself be guided away from the window, away from you, to follow the King and Princess into a nearby room. Steve wrapped his arm around Bucky's shoulder as they walked away from the glass. 'Now the fun part' Steve thought sarcastically. As they reached the doorway, Steve paused letting Bucky go in first, and looked one last time at the room you were in. Turns out you had been right.

You had all survived the war after all.

TBC in Book 3