((Thank you so much for all the recent comments and reviews! To new readers: Welcome! To old ones: Welcome back! Just a few things. Right, so! It's here!
Now, I'm releasing three chapters as there was so much I wanted to do with such a huge event and didn't want to leave anything out. They're long enough so I hope they'll keep ye going. 3
I've been asked as well about where the fic is going and whether or not it'll include TFAWS (thank you for the reviews Froukru, .2021 and CrackHeadBlonde!) and the truth is: I have an idea. I may dip my toe in TFAWS but I feel I may be deviating largely from canon. If nothing else, but to give Bucky Barnes the happy ending he deserves. BUT that's not for a while yet.))

1/3

The cool dark of the Barnes' plot hut created a blanket of restfulness for the sole occupant, a troubled little vet. With the day she'd had, and the insanity that went along with it, she feared trouble sleeping. However, it appeared to have drained her so effectively instead that sleep couldn't come fast enough when her head hit the pillow. To that end, the sleep that claimed her pulled her deep with little room for disruption.

Until…

Snuffle snuffle snuffle…

Elsa, in the midst of slumber after an emotionally turbulent day, dreamt of a cold, wet invader imposing on her face but exhausted and unwilling to part with rest just yet, she simply swatted it away. However, through the sedate darkness, it persisted.

Snuffle snuffle snuffle…

"Cody…" The half-comatosed Lioness murmured, turning her head away from the tongue added to the insisting attention. "Stop, I'm trying to-"

Wait…

A hot poker to the rear would not have moved Elsa so swiftly; sitting up, tossing the sheets, and flicking on the bedside lamp in one seemingly fluid motion, only for her breath to catch in her throat and her heart to hammer in her chest. Never in a million years did the Lioness think she would see that big, goofy dual-coloured head looking back at her but now, staring dumbly, she could look nowhere else.

"Cody!"The mutt, delighting in the sudden lunging, clinging hug (as evidenced by his tail assaulting the adjacent wall), naturally held no understanding of the significance but burrowed in as he usually did anyway; much to the palpitating pulse of his wet-cheeked mistress. "Oh my God…! Cody…! Is that you?!"As if to cement it to herself, to prove she had not concocted it in some cruel, mid-dream joke, Elsa took it upon herself to pat her hand down Cody's massive flank to where fur didn't grow anymore. There… There's the scar.

Drawing back, Elsa sandwiched the beast's face between her shock-trembling hands and checked him over – He looked to be absolutely fine.

While that could be said for the hapless Cody, it may not have been everyone; judging by the ruckus coming from outside. The barn, more specifically.

Feet kicked into slippers and cold-stemming dressing gown securely fastened around her middle, Elsa unlocked the door and made for the overnight holdings at a sprint with Cody at her heels.

They're back… She found herself numbly thinking as she ignored the cup of tea she had explicitly made to steady her nerves; the "returned" animals also checked over and separated from the settled ones until she could mix them properly in the morning. Christ almighty, they're back. They did it. Steve did it.

Shock and sleep swirled still in Elsa's system as she basked in marvelling disbelief at the kitchen table; restraining her from full realization a moment.

That is, of course, until the words registered out of the blue; prompting her to sit forward on her elbows, breath caught in her throat, eyes wide.

They did it.

Doctor Elsa Barnes had a rule as per her arrival in Wakanda: Do not drive at night.

That rule had been based on safety; mostly due to unfamiliar wildlife she had never really encountered prior to her move to Africa who tended to be most dangerous in the darkened hours.

Naturally, as with most rules, exceptions did exist, and those exceptions extended to getting home after night had fallen after a particular slot (the last one of the day usually) ran a tad long in the shorter months. Getting back to the apartment (or later, the farm) safely became a priority. Getting into a relationship with a farmer had bent those rules, meaning she could spend longer with her lover before returning to the loneliness of a two-bedroom apartment near the palace.

Now, five years on, Elsa broke that rule for James Buchanan Barnes once more; goading the jeep to a speed it hadn't seen in quite some time. The night she found Cody, in fact.

Try not to hit anything… Some corner of her mind pleaded with her amid the frazzle as the headlights tore through the landscape but hearing the roar of the vehicle, it seemed the animals knew well to keep from her path. Try not to hit anything, for Christ's sake!

The speedometer had clocked still, unable to tick any further or faster as the shadows of trees and other dwellings blurred past with zero other distinction, just rushed shapes. With that level of speed, it wasn't long before the loyal 4x4 spirited her to where she needed to go.

Stumbling from the driver's seat, engine still running and headlights ablaze, Elsa took to the shadow-shrouded plain on trembling legs with the jeep's torch to shed the barest of illumination on the landscape around her; the setting of a terrible occurrence, some five years previous. All sat quiet and still, save for insects chirping, her own frantic panting and the sun-parched grass crackling underfoot as she ran; having had the sense to don her steel toecaps and tucking her khakis tightly into them, she was not so concerned about critters.

I'm in the right place… True, she knew it well by now; overly familiar out of comfort and a clawing need to be close to her husband; more so on days like their anniversary, the anniversary of the Snap, Christmas day or just a random Tuesday.

It shouldn't be this quiet… She thought fretfully, flinging the torch beam around in some vague hope it would catch what she came here to find. They should be here… They should all be here…

With the quieter (and less likely to draw a predator to her location) approach failed, Elsa opted for a less safe but (hopefully) more effective option. Nerves whittling into panicked whimpers and desperation getting the better of her, before she could stop herself, the little vet drew a breath and shrieked into the night; splintering and shattering it like glass.

"BUCKY!"

As you can imagine, as evidenced by the chest-wrecking sobs that followed, it did not work.