Winter of the White Wolf
Chapter 8 - Kimoyo Beads
Neither of them said much of anything as they made their way back down the fire escape and saw fit to navigate the afternoon crowds towards their hotel. If he was going to do this, really going to do this, he needed to be able to focus, and that meant getting away from the sprawling city and its plethora of uneasy questions it was dredging up in him.
Bucky led the way, but it was mostly because he knew if Sam did, the man would be turning back to look at him every few steps just to make sure he hadn't wandered off or something. He was tired, perhaps a little hungry, but he wasn't that tired.
By the time they approached the hotel room and Bucky stepped through, it took him a moment to realize Sam was no longer following him, and he turned to see the man lingering in the hallway wearing one of those concerned looks of his. "Is this call a you thing, or something you want me to stick around for?"
To be honest: Bucky hadn't considered one way or the other, he was so deep into spinning his gears trying to figure out how the conversation might go that he hadn't even thought about Sam. It was nice of Sam to offer him the out, but a quick gut-check confirmed that it was likely he could stay on-topic easier if he knew Sam was listening-in. "It's fine. There might be something useful, and besides: I've overheard enough of your conversations between you and Sarah and the kids." That last bit, while factually true, was also not anything like the conversation he was bracing himself to have with Ayo. Maybe the mere fact Sam was there would keep him from chickening out. His friend stepped inside, locking the door behind him as he did and stepped over to his bed while he waited on Bucky to take lead on whatever he had planned.
This was hardly the first time Bucky'd wanted to broach the subject with Ayo, but most times he could just squelch things, shove 'em down, and tell himself it was better to look forward than being tempted to look back at what was. Some of it still felt surprisingly fresh thanks to the snap, or the decimation as the Wakandans called it, but she had another five years of life experiences in there, and as far as he was concerned: a lot more important matters to attend to.
Like Zemo. Man, he wasn't sure if they'd ever be on great terms again after that one.
Sam was continuing to look at him with those "do you want to talk about it?" eyes but Bucky ignored it for the moment as he went for the Kimoyo beads he had stored in one pack, making it a point to get up and close the shades outside before he rolled the strands over one wrist.
Sam couldn't help himself, "Wakandan friendship bracelet?"
"Something like that," Bucky said with a casual shrug. He adjusted his neck, hoping it might shuck off some of the tension that was rising in him. Before he could change his mind, he lifted his hand palm-up and touched the nearest bead, which resonated a deep purple. "Ayo," he said succinctly and waited while the message was transmitted. Maybe she wouldn't even pick u—
A moment later, the grains of one runed vibranium bead shifted to the palm of his hand and projected the head and torso of a familiar armored figure in front of him: Ayo.
Even though Sam had literal hands-on experience with Wakandan tech, Bucky caught him make an "oh wow," with this mouth out of the corner of his eye, but chose to ignore it.
"White Wolf," Ayo acknowledged him. She must be in a good mood if she was opening with that.
"Ayo." Into the fray he went, "I'm here with Sam and—"
"Proper thanks for your help with the new suit and wings, Ayo." Sam interrupted in the most respectful, upbeat, Captain America tone possible, "Everything's incredible. Really above and beyond. Thank you again to you and everyone who had a hand in it."
Right. Bucky was so far up his own head that he'd completely forgotten that little thing in the moment. But it made sense to open with that, so good on Sam. For a moment, he'd almost forgotten that Ayo wasn't available when they'd done a low-tech video call in to thank Shuri a few weeks back. Now he felt like an asshole. Wouldn't be the last time.
Ayo wasn't one to smile often, not really, but she looked pleased, and her eyes flicked back to Bucky's, well aware of whom the favor had been passed down from, "It was our pleasure to be able to help a friend of Wakanda."
Bucky wasn't sure if that "friend" was supposed to refer to he or Sam, but he decided there wasn't a need for clarity in the moment, so he nodded and decided to get straight to business before he lost his nerve entirely, "We have a case we're looking into here in Symkaria. I'm not sure you've heard the news, but there was a string of high profile murders of some of the royal family here. We're trying to investigate if there's any connection to an individual one of our informants caught sight of that … might be powered in some way. We're not sure." The tone of his voice was remarkably even, considering how much his stomach was lunging around inside, trying to figure out the right way to approach the question he wanted to ask.
"We're not strictly on the books with this one," Sam added helpfully. "Just doing our due diligence."
Smart. Ayo clearly heard Sam's comment, but she remained focused on Bucky, "The news had found its way to us." Right. Shuri. She must have intercepted some of the transmissions. Of course she had. Ayo regarded him with focused intention: the focus of someone who knows there's more, "But you called upon me, not Shuri. Not Okoye."
She had him there. "Look, I know the Winter Soldier was active around here before," spit it out, Bucky, spit it out, "but… I'm… the details aren't there. Nor the when. Just shadows where it feels like memories should be." Did his voice sound as shaky as it felt? He was trying to hold it together. This wasn't the time. "I was hoping maybe there was a chance you might've remembered me saying anything about it. Anything that might help." He found himself still talking, "What happened here recently could be completely unrelated. Very possibly is. But … if it's Hydra…" His voice trailed off because he realized he hadn't taken a breath the whole time he'd been talking.
"The stakes could affect many more," the figure in front of him agreed. For a moment, Ayo didn't say anything further and Bucky worried the transmission might have frozen, but then he saw the way her face shifted, and something he couldn't place ran over it. Did she know something? "We should talk," she concluded pointedly at Bucky, her thick accent rolling off her tongue with intention.
"I can send our coordinates—" Bucky began.
"We have them," Ayo said succinctly. Of course they did. They probably even had tracking beacons on everything, including the wings and his damn arm. "I'll send a jet to pick you up Southeast of Aniana." It wasn't phrased as a question.
"Wait, we're going there?" Sam asked, obviously playing catch-up to the sudden pivot of plans. "To Wakanda?"
Bucky immediately caught the unspoken question on Ayo's face. It was that silent look she gave when something was due to be uncomfortable and she wanted to make sure he was still with her. How had Shuri put it? Something about there could be no trust without consent. It was also uncomfortably close to the way she looked at him before she'd said the words. Those words. He dismissed the thought just as quickly, telling himself that whatever Sam'd seen firsthand or heard from Steve was enough for him to know what this was about, "We're good. He's with me."
She acknowledged his answer with an almost imperceivable tilt of her head, "Then we will talk then, White Wolf."
He nodded and ended the call, watching as the grains of vibranium seamlessly reformed themselves into the bead on his wrist.
"Huh." Sam said, shattering the silence that lingered in the room, "You weren't kidding about the White Wolf thing."
Bucky turned to him, trying to force himself to relax, to let himself think about anything other than whatever Ayo wanted to show him in Wakanda that she couldn't just relay over the call, "What? You thought I made that up?"
"It crossed my mind," Sam admitted. "Last time I saw you two squaring off back in Latvia, I sure as hell couldn't understand much of what was said between you, but I definitely heard 'James.'" He'd already started to pack. "She had a way of sayin' it like when my Ti Ti used to holler after me when I'd gotten up to whatever kids get up to." He adjusted the timbre of his voice to what must've been a fair approximation of the woman, "Samuel Thomas Wilson! You git' your tail down here right this minute before I ring up your mama and tell her what trouble you been up to!"
Bucky managed the smallest of smiles at that, which he was certain was Sam's intent, "Yeah. Different tone: Same implication."
"You been back recently?"
Bucky thumbed the beads along his wrist, debating if he should take it off, "Nah. Not since—" He made a gesture with one hand, miming one of the sorcerer portals. "I'd considered it, but after Zemo…"
"…Yeah. I can see how that follows. I did warn you they hadn't forgotten, though."
That wasn't the full story, of course. Like how he knew he couldn't get back out in the world if he just stayed hidden away at that hut and its picturesque lake. Or that staying there just kept that list running in limbo in his mind. Or how once he'd been cured, how part of him longed to be around people that didn't know, if only to see if they would recognize the wolf among them. He'd yearned to simply be around people that didn't look at him like they were scouring over him for cracks in his armor.
He felt himself start to go down that route and pulled himself back, "At least she didn't take back the arm." He meant it to be a humorous way to diffuse the growing tension in him, but the tone fell flat.
Sam didn't miss it. He paused a beat in packing up his remaining toiletries to gesture squarely at him with a toothbrush, "From one grown-ass adult to another: I'm thinkin' you should probably talk to her about that bit. I'm damn thankful for what the Wakanda Design Group put together for me, but after all the stuff we've seen over the years, you can bet I want to know what they can and can't do remotely with my gear too. Last thing I want to be worrying about when I'm up there is if someone could be bothered to press a button and detach the wings or turn Redwing or JB around on me."
Bucky ignored the JB bit, but he honestly hadn't heard the rest of that coming, "I can't imagine—" he began.
Sam shrugged easily. Too easily as he waggled the toothbrush back and forth, "I don't want to either. But even clean tech can be hacked, and you can be damn well sure I'm going to ask. All I can do from there is hope they're being straight with me."
It was a fair and honest perspective. A very Sam perspective. "Yeah," he acquiesced.
Sam rose up and clapped him on the shoulder, apparently seeing fit to take the reins of planning their next steps on account of the fact Bucky was still lagging more than a few steps behind. God. He felt like he could sleep for a week.
"Anyway, enough of that for now," Sam concluded, "Once we check out, we can grab something on the way, and maybe you can even catch a little shut-eye on the taxi ride." He had a little light in his eyes as he added, "It'll be nice to head back there when we aren't bracing for the end of the world."
Author's Remarks:
We are off to Wakanda, friends!
I will admit that when I started this story I, uh, I wasn't planning to have nearly daily updates, but I hope you're enjoying the story so far. I'd love to hear your thoughts if you have any, as it helps keep me motivated to keep on writing. :)
Written primarily to "So Far [feat. Aarnor Dan]" by Olafur Arnolds. I was introduced to this song the other day by a YouTube video called "(Marvel) It Always Ends in a Fight - Bucky Barnes Tribute," and man, it got me RIGHT in the feels. I'd definitely recommend checking it out if you have a chance.