Confused Minds

When he opened his eyes, he kind of expected the rough Russian words to pierce through his mind, to drill through his mental defenses, and make him a deadly puppet all over again.

None of the familiar pain came.

Instead, a girl was staring at him.

(Or a young woman, maybe? It was sometimes hard to define, when you were stuck with the same look for almost a hundred years.)

Now, Bucky was well aware that evil took the most unexpected forms in this world. But never had the mad scientists been watching him this way. Not as if he was a weapon to be calibrated, but…

He frowned.

There was no mistaking it.

She was looking at him as if he was some kind of lost puppy.

(Did he turn into some kind of one-armed cute unicorn during one of these stupid experiments?)

"Hi, Mister Barnes", said the girl in a very professional tone.

(This was definitely no Russian accent.)

He tried to put together his memories; eras were merging into each other, old and new, good and bad. He felt like his head was a washer in which some fool did not think wise to separate the whites from the colors.

"I'm Shuri", continued the girl. He remained silent, brows knitted together as he tried to sort the messy laundry in his brain. "My brother T'Challa authorized me to wake you up from your cryostasis."

"The Panther guy," he mused, as recent history started to make sense again.

"The title is Black Panther, but I guess my brother should feel honored that you did not confuse him with one of the little beasts."

"Little beasts?"

"Yeah, you know, the spider-kid and the giant ant."

A low chuckle rumbled in Bucky's chest.

It's been a while since he'd woken up in such a good mood.

"Are you crazy?!"

The good mood did not last.

Some food was brought, and he was half through devouring his plate of spicy rice when she announced that he was not cured at all. This freaky woman should have started by that, instead of depicting for twenty minutes the wonders of her Wakandian space-lab or whatever.

Did she not realize what kind of danger he was, what situations he'd provoked, how many people he'd killed?

"I was told you were a sensible man, Mr. Barnes. As long as we don't trigger the killer in you, I believe waking you up was safe."

He fought the urge to scream at her; raising his voice or slamming his fist on the table was quite tempting, but would lead him nowhere.

"You shouldn't have…" he started, his voice low with anger.

But below the anger was the fear of what he could become. He couldn't help but feel like a rabid beast that should be put down. He turned his gaze away, to hide the helplessness and desperation that haunted his mind.

"Look at me."

For some unknown reason, he obeyed.

"I am one of the greatest geniuses this world knows, I'm working with a technology so advanced that Tony Stark would be having a heart attack by just walking in my lab. Trust me, I know what I am doing."

Trust was not something he was used to. But Shuri was kind enough not to insist on his fear. Rather than sugarcoating the whole experience with some promises, rather than staring at him with pity, she offered instead her unwavering self-confidence and determination. She would have done a fine leader. He could have been surprised, but once you knew Steve Rogers, you started to believe in good people again.

"Alright," he mumbled.

She kept silent, her scrutinizing gaze looking for the trust he was not sure he could give her.

"Alright," he said again, in a stronger voice. "Where do we start?"

As she smiled, all traces of gravity were washed away from her features.

"Let's not crack your skull open just yet. You feel ready for a run?"

Bucky decided to ignore the confusing thoughts.

They were out in the open.

The sun was burning his skin, the dry grass was prickling his ankles while he waited for Shuri to finish setting up sensors on his temples and neck. But it was good, to feel the heat, the pure air, such a relief after spending eighty years navigating from one fight to another in overcrowded cities and battlefields.

(He felt alive.)

"You're all set up", declared the tech-princess with some mischief in her smile.

"So, you expect me to just run?"

"Yes."

"And you do realize that this is no easy task with one missing arm."

"Yes."

He sighed as he came to peace with the fact that she would not explain. So he started doing as she asked. He felt a bit weird to be so off-balanced, but as always, he did his best.

"Faster!"

At first, he ran as if his life depended on it. He'd always run like that, with purpose, kill or be killed. Running to the next mission, to the next murder, and then running away, not getting caught.

(Running away from himself.)

His heart was pounding in his chest, the burden heavy on his shoulders.

"Come on, Mr. Barnes, you can do better than that!"

He fell, rolled, got up, and ran again, until drenched in sweat, until his lungs ached.

Little by little, the memories of the battles were just that —memories.

He let the exercise wearing him off until exhaustion erased all thoughts, all confusion. Until things did not require to make sense anymore. Until his mind felt empty, so empty it was liberating.

Ultimately, he let himself fall on his knees, roll in the reddish dirt.

Above him, Shuri was laughing.

(What was so funny?)

All around them, the savanna was draping itself in twilight.

He started remembering what peace felt like.