Awakening
As he woke up, he knew he was cold, and he knew that was a bad thing. He struck out, feebly. His hand was caught and enfolded in a warm grip.
"Easy, Buck. You're OK. You're safe," said Steve Rogers' familiar voice.
Bucky relaxed, flexing his wrist to grip Steve's hand in turn. If Steve was there, then he was safe. He didn't doubt it for a second.
"Atta boy," Steve said in approval. "You're safe. You're in Wakanda, remember? You asked them to put you in the cryo chamber. I promised I'd be here when you got out."
Bucky fought to open eyelids that seemed as heavy as lead weights. He blinked, caught a fuzzy glimpse of his friend, then blinked again to clear his vision.
Steve was standing beside the upright cryo chamber. A white-coated, dark-skinned doctor hovered behind Steve, taking notes on a computer tablet. The doctor gave Bucky a bright, encouraging smile.
"All vital signs are within expected parameters," he said. "You are doing well."
"You with me?" Steve asked his dazed friend.
"Where else would I be?" Bucky said hoarsely. "I haven't gone anywhere."
Steve chuckled. "Ready to get out of the box?"
"I guess?" Bucky said doubtfully.
"There's a bed right over there," Steve said with a tip of his head. "The orderly and I will help you over there."
"'Kay."
With the orderly and Steve supporting Bucky on each wide, they walked the few steps to the bed and helped him sit, then lie down. Bucky was still cold, which made sense coming out of cryo freeze, but he felt off. Then he realized it was because he wasn't wet. Hydra had hosed him down with water as part of the thawing process.
The orderly brought a warm blanket to drape across Bucky's body. He sighed with relief at the pleasant sensation. "Hydra turned a hose on me to thaw me out. This is much better," he said.
Steve's jaw clenched for a moment, but he smiled for his friend.
"Yeah, this cryo chamber has a defrost setting," said another familiar voice. Natasha Romanoff moved into view. "Kinda like an oversized microwave."
"But we do not cook our guests," the doctor said severely. "That practice was abandoned in the early 1900s."
Everyone looked at him to see if he was serious. His twinkling eyes let them know he wasn't.
"Great, you have a comedian for a doctor," Natasha said. "How you feeling, Barnes?"
"Better by the moment," Bucky said truthfully. "So whose side are you on at the moment?"
"Yours — for the moment," Natasha answered with a smirk.
"Be nice, Buck," Steve said. "I asked Natasha to come just in case you started speaking Russian. I've been practicing but …"
"I have more practice," Natasha finished.
Bucky heard a rustle of cloth from out of his view. "Someone else here?"
"I am," said Wanda Maximoff, as she moved around Steve so Bucky could see her.
"Ah, you're the stopper," Bucky guessed.
She smiled kindly. "In case the cold revived the Winter Soldier, I could stop you without anyone getting hurt — and so Steve didn't have to fight you."
Bucky remembered her throwing cars around at the airport and thought she might just be able to control the Winter Soldier. It was a relief to think Steve wouldn't have had to fight him again.
"But you seem to be in your right mind for a change," Natasha praised. "Well done."
"Nat," Steve warned, but she just smirked at him.
Bucky thought it was kind of nice to be treated like just another guy. He yawned, surprising himself.
"You should take a nap while your system stabilizes," the doctor advised.
"No offense, doc, but I've been napping for … how long?"
"Almost 10 months," the Dr. Uviwe answered. There was a slightly expectant look in his eyes that Bucky couldn't account for.
"Ten months," Bucky parroted. "Isn't that a long enough nap?"
"It's not the same," Steve said. "Trust me, I know. Get a little rest, then we'll talk some more."
Bucky yawned again. He'd just opened his eyes, now he couldn't keep them open.
"Can you cure me?" Bucky asked the doctor.
Steve answered for him. "It's gonna be a process, Buck," he said with regret. "The doctors have been studying your case. Now they need to run some tests."
"It's not going to be an instant cure, Mr. Barnes," Uviwe said kindly. "We have no pill to cure brainwashing."
"No, couldn't be that easy," Bucky said ruefully.
"But at least we will make a start," the doctor said in encouragement. "Now get some rest."
"I guess that'll have to be good enough," Bucky said. He looked at Steve. "You'll be here?" he asked.
"Not going anywhere," his friend assured him.
When Bucky woke up the second time, he felt more alert, ready to jump up and start his day. When he moved, though, his body felt stiff from 10 months of disuse.
He groaned, tottering upright like an old man with severe arthritis. He tried to lever himself to a sitting position, but his hand slipped and he would have face-planted. Steve grabbed his shoulder and steadied him until the one-armed man found his balance.
"Feeling all my 99 years right now," Bucky joked.
Steve gave him a look he couldn't translate.
"Making you feel old, too?" Bucky asked.
Steve grinned. "You're bound to be stiff after not moving for so long. Bound to be hungry, too."
Bucky's stomach growled like a tiger in response.
They both laughed out loud.
"Sounds like our cue," Natasha said. She and Wanda entered, pushing a cart laden with six times the food a man should need for breakfast — making it just about right for two super soldiers and two guests.
While they were eating, Dr. Uviwe returned with some odd-looking equipment. One cap looked like a football helmet from Bucky's day — the old leatherhead style. Bucky turned it around in his hands, noting the sticky metallic patches scattered around the inside.
"These will allow us to monitor your vital signs while you go about your daily activities," the doctor explained. "They send the information electronically, so you do not have to be tethered to a machine. With this, we can develop a baseline for your physical and mental condition."
"Whatever you say, doc."
Steve helped the one-armed man ruck up his T-shirt while the doctor fastened a strap around his chest, to measure heartbeat, respiration and other vitals. Then Dr. Uviwe settled the helmet on Bucky's head, pressing firmly at the temples and the forehead.
Bucky felt the patches stick to his skin. It felt strange, but not uncomfortable. After a few moments, he hardly noticed the equipment.
After eating a hearty breakfast, Bucky and Steve talked for a while to let their food settle, then went to the gym to work out. They warmed up slowly, giving Bucky a chance to get the kinks out and adapt to his lopsided balance.
Just as he was about to suggest something more strenuous, a black figure dropped from the rafters, driving Steve to the ground.
Bucky's heart raced when he saw his fallen friend. His mind raced, how could he have missed an assailant in the rafters? His body reacted automatically.
Bucky charged the attacker, swift and dangerous despite his handicap. He snatched a wooden staff from a rack and swung at the dark figure, driving him away from Steve. Bucky stood protectively over his friend, scowling at the enemy, twirling the staff overhead one-handed, as if it were a helicopter blade.
Then he realized the figure was the Black Panther.
"What the hell? I thought we were friends?"
"Yeah, what the hell?" Steve echoed, rubbing the back of his head and scooting sideways so he could sit up without bumping into Bucky or the whirling stick.
T'Challa chuckled as he pulled off his mask and held up his hands apologetically. "Peace, friends. The doctor said he needed a surprise attack to see whether Sgt. Barnes or the Winter Soldier responded."
"So you attacked me?" Steve complained.
"I told him Barnes would react stronger to an attack on Rogers than an attack on himself." Natasha sauntered into the gym and stood next to the king. The two looked perilous in their respective black catsuits.
"This was a test?" Bucky asked incredulously, making Steve choke on laughter behind him.
"Yes, and you passed," Natasha said matter-of-factly. "Now, let's spar!"
She charged at the soldiers. Steve rolled out of the way and into a crouch. Bucky spun aside and swung his stick at Natasha. She dove over it, somersaulting to her feet and continuing toward Steve who braced to meet her. The two former SHIELD partners began a familiar dance of strike, parry and dodge. Bucky would have been mesmerized, but he remembered there was a second opponent behind him. He felt a breath of air moving and ducked. T'Challa flew over his head, missing his strike. The king landed easily in a crouch facing Barnes.
Bucky grinned. "Here, kitty, kitty."
T'Challa barked a laugh and, keeping his claws sheathed, struck at Bucky who used the stick to fend him off.
The heroes battled for an hour, trading opponents once in awhile. When a buzzer sounded, T'Challa, Natasha and Steve all backed off immediately.
"The doc said one hour only," Steve explained. "He wants you to take it slow, since you're fresh out of cryo."
"A lot more thoughtful than Hydra ever was," Bucky commented.
He and Steve returned to the medical wing where a nurse removed the sensors and, with a motherly smile, sent the sweaty, smelly men to the showers.
They were in the medical wing, not the gym, so they had individual dressing rooms. When Bucky stepped out of the deliciously hot water, he found a pair of gray pants and a nice button-down, navy blue shirt waiting for him. It was a nicer outfit than he expected, but buttoning shirts was easier for him than pulling one over his head one-handed. And the left sleeve was already neatly pinned up. He appreciated the thoughtfulness.
When he came out of the private dressing room, he found Steve dressed much the same, in a light blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of khaki slacks.
"Getting all dolled up for me, Stevie?" he teased, batting his eyes.
"Anything for my best guy," Steve answered, punching Bucky lightly in the chest.
They met Dr. Uviwe in his office. Natasha was waiting for them, wearing a summery flowered dress, her slightly damp hair curling as it air-dried.
"Looking nice, Nat," Steve said in approval.
"Well, thought I'd dress up," she answered in an offhand manner. "Not every day you thaw a super soldier. We ought to celebrate."
Bucky didn't see the warning glance Steve gave her. His attention was on the doctor.
"So, what's the plan, doc?" he asked, understandably nervous, yet anxious to begin.
"We will begin by speaking your trigger words — out of order and with random words in between," Uviwe hastened to reassure his patient. "We will monitor you to see what areas of the brain each word triggers. We believe that each word triggers something different — pain, traumatic memories, most likely. Obedience may even trigger the pleasure centers."
Bucky nodded his understanding and the doctor continued.
"When we have mapped the responses, we will have a better idea how to proceed. We hope to counter the triggers, perhaps chemically, perhaps electronically — it will depend on the area of the brain. Miss Maximoff believes she can substitute good memories for bad ones. Eventually, those words in Russian will merely be words, we hope."
"But it will take time," Steve warned.
"It's already been ten months," Bucky replied.
"We needed to prepare our equipment," Dr. Uviwe said apologetically. "We hoped to start in December, so we could wake you for Christmas; but there was anti-Inhuman trouble, so it wasn't safe for your friends to travel. And we had promised not to wake you until Captain Rogers was here."
Christmas? That rang an odd bell. "I had a dream about Christmas, that you sang Christmas carols for me," Bucky said to Steve and Natasha. "And … Amazing Grace?"
A huge grin exploded on Steve's face. "You heard it! T'Challa's scientists thought you had. We sent you a CD of carols, since we couldn't come ourselves."
"Huh, I'd like to hear that while I'm awake," Bucky said.
"I'm sure that can be arranged," Natasha said.
The doctor cleared his throat to reclaim Bucky's attention. "I warn you, we may have to recite all the words eventually to measure the full effect," he said solemnly.
Bucky flinched, but agreed that might be the only way to judge the full effect on his brain.
"I guess you can't dig out a bullet until you can find it," he said bravely. "Who will do the reading?"
A voice barked in Russian, "Chocolate, balloon, shaving cream!"
Bucky cringed at the authoritative sound, then realized none of those were trigger words. He looked at Steve in surprise.
Cap shrugged. "I've been practicing." He gestured at Natasha.
"You sound just like Karpov," Bucky said, impressed.
"Karpov was from Leningrad, aka, Saint Petersburg," Natasha said, giving both names to make sure everyone understood. "I taught Steve Russian with a Leningrad accent. I thought it might reinforce the commands."
Bucky felt enormous relief that Steve would be the one to trigger him. He trusted Steve more than he trusted himself — a lot more. And if Steve said the words, the Winter Soldier would never attack him. Bucky couldn't bear the thought of attacking Steve again.
With a burst of optimism, Bucky said, "When can we start?"
"Tomorrow," Uviwe said. "I must study the sensor data and your friends want to celebrate."
"Celebrate?" Bucky's forehead furrowed in a confused frown.
Steve and Natasha chuckled.
"Really, Buck, you haven't figured it out yet?" Steve pulled his friend to his feet and towed him out the door, giving the doctor a quick salute as they left.
Natasha followed the super soldiers down the hall, out of the medical building to another complex across the sun-filled plaza. She pulled out her phone. "On our way," she reported.
"What's going on?"
"C'mon, Buck," Steve coaxed, as they entered a conference building. "You've been here ten months. Doesn't that mean anything?"
Ten months. He'd gone into cryo in May, so ten months would make it March. He frowned thoughtfully. March used to mean something important, but it had been so long, it actually took him a minute to remember.
Steve strode up to a door marked "Private Party."
Party?
"Wait, is today the 10th?" Bucky asked with an odd mix of anticipation, embarrassment and disbelief.
Steve smiled with anticipation and no embarrassment at all. "March 10, 2017." He swung the door wide open to reveal decorated tables, festive decorations and a crowd of people who yelled, "Surprise!"
"Happy 100th birthday, Bucky," Steve said.
There was a table loaded with food along the left side and a bunch of rogue Avengers in front, with a few Wakandan friends, including Doctor Uviwe who had run around the back way to get there in time to see the reveal. The Wakandans stood politely near the back so Bucky's comrades could greet him. Number-shaped balloons in metallic colors formed bobbing 100s all around the room, which was also decorated with canes, walkers, ear trumpets, magnifying glasses and other senior citizen paraphernalia.
Above everything was a hand-painted banner that read "Happy 100th Birthday!" The 100 was twice as big as the rest and covered with so much multi-colored glitter that every breath of air sent a sparkling cloud drifting down. A faint red cloud intercepted the glitter and funneled it into a waiting bowl.
"My kids made the banner," Clint Barton said, pushing up a wheelchair decorated with metallic gold paper so it looked like a throne. "Lila went a little overboard with the glitter."
"You think?" Sharon Carter said, moving to stand next to Steve.
"I shook it out three times, but glitter is pervasive," Clint protested.
Wanda intercepted another drift of glitter.
"Nice control," Sam Wilson complimented her, as he came up to slap the flabbergasted birthday boy on the back.
"I've been practicing … on Lego bricks and Cheerios," Wanda said dryly.
"Until my kids decided they didn't need to clean up their toys because 'Wanda will do it'," Clint said. "So I told her to put the toys on their bedrooms floors."
Several people flinched at the memory of walking on Lego bricks barefoot.
"Now Wanda leaves the toys in piles, but the kids put them away," Natasha said.
Everyone chuckled, but the laughter died away nervously, because Bucky still hadn't said anything. They were alarmed when tears began to stream down his face. He began to shake.
"Whoa," Sam said. He and Steve both reached for Bucky, but hesitated when he shook his head violently.
"Everybody back up. Give him some space," Sam suggested.
"No, I'm OK," he said in a choked voice. He wiped his arm across his eyes. "I'm so happy. It's been so long since I was happy, I don't remember how to rein it in."
The others were relieved. Bucky still looked shaky, so Clint wheeled the throne behind him and nudged the back of his legs. Bucky sat down heavily, gratefully, and scrubbed his face with his hand.
"OK, I'm good," he said after a moment. "It's just been so long … I'm more used to punishment than kindness. I'm overwhelmed."
The Avengers were uncertain how to proceed. The party was just getting started. Would it be too much for Barnes? But Steve knew him best.
"So, does that mean you don't want lunch, or presents, or cake?" he asked slyly.
Bucky sat up straight. "I didn't say that!" he protested, making everyone laugh, as much with relief as amusement. "I just need a minute. But I don't want you to stop. I don't want to miss a thing," He surveyed the room. "I love it all. Everything. All the stupid canes and the ear trumpet — where the hell did you get an ear trumpet?"
"Antique store," Sharon said proudly.
"You're a wonder, Carter. An amazing quartermaster. Your aunt would be proud," Bucky said.
Sharon blushed and deflected. "Clint was in charge of the decorations."
"Antiques for the antique," the archer joked.
As he pushed Bucky's throne into the room, the air stirred and another drift of glitter wafted down. Wanda gave an exaggerated sigh and raised her hand.
"No," Bucky said quietly. "Let it fall."
He raised his face toward the ceiling, as if the glitter was sunlight. He felt it speckle his face with flecks of color. It looked like glitter makeup, Natasha thought in amusement.
"A bedazzled soldier!" Clint joked.
"No, just dazzled," Bucky answered. "Dazzled by friendship."
A/N: Yes, according to one MCU source, Bucky was born March 10, 1917. More party to come next week. FF dot net doesn't like me to upload much more than 3,000-word chapters.