You sit on the edge of the bed, your arms resting at your sides as you look around the Wakandan medical facility. Even though you had insisted you were fine, they had still patched you up, wrapping your broken ribs and bandaging your many lacerations. All in all you have had worse. You weren't sure you had ever felt worse, but that was a different story.
"You sure about this?" Steve asks, and Bucky nods.
"I can't trust my own mind. So until they figure out how to get this stuff out of my head I think going back under is the best thing for everybody."
Steve nods, resigned, and crosses the room towards the window. After a moment you stand as well, moving to where Bucky was sitting on his own bed. You sit gingerly next to him, neither of you saying anything.
"You gonna try and talk me out of it?" He asks finally and your lips twist into a rye smile.
"I know better than to try and argue with you. I do think you're fucking insane though."
"Mr. Barnes," A soft voice says and you turn to see the King's sister approaching, "Are you ready?"
He looks at you and you can see the fear in his eyes, but his voice is steady as he stands and says, "Guess I'll see you on the other side."
"I'll be there."
You can't watch as they put him into cryo. It was something you had hoped to never see or experience again. You couldn't imagine going into it voluntarily. Steve's outside waiting for you, leaning against the stolen Quinjet.
"Hey," You say lamely as you approach, he doesn't smile. "You okay?"
"No," Steve sighs, "No, I'm not. Are you? I know that couldn't have been easy for you, his decision I mean."
"Nothing about this was easy for me," You take a deep breath, "I'm sorry Steve. I should've stayed when you asked me to."
"They've got the rest of the team… Well the ones that sided with us at least at the Raft. I guess I'm going to break them out."
"Good. Flying under the radar. No risky ventures. Very smart," You smile to let him know you're joking, "Sounds like you could use an extra set of hands. An infiltrator type. Someone with a special skill set that specifically enables them to get in and out without raising any alarms, maybe."
"Huh," Steve scratches at the golden stubble that had started to appear around his jawline, "If I was going to enlist someone like that, they would need to be a team player. Stick around."
"I think I know someone who would be interested in a position like that," You look up at him, "If you'll have me."
He stares down at you, his expression unreadable, for a few seconds before nodding, "Come on, we've got a prison break to plan."
"Not your typical gig."
"That's why I've got you," Steve smiles then, clapping you on the shoulder, "Should be a breeze."