Chapter Forty-Four:

Alya's day only got worse with time. No matter how hard she looked, there was no sign or trace of her mother, or Steve, or Wanda. She and Peter had no choice but to stay sitting right beside each other, listening for the announcements of their flights. Hers was before his and that meant they were to be separated once again.

Peter was going home to New York. Tony managed to get General Ross off of Spider-Man's trail which made it safe for him to go home to his aunt. He felt awful having to leave her at a time like this, but he also couldn't help but feel really relieved that this was all over.

He had no experience with being an Avenger or being a Russian spy. He only wanted to look out for the little guy and help wherever he could. He didn't think he wanted the life of an Avenger, at least not now. Being on the run made him see what kind of sacrifices these guys had to make just to stand up for what they believed in. He wasn't ready to risk it all.

And that was okay. He could stay closer to the ground and be New York's friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

"How do you say, 'Gate Five' again?" He stared at his plane ticket, trying his best to decipher what the Cyrillic words meant.

Alya had tried to teach him a little Russian so that he could get by, but it was taking a while to stick. "Ворота пять."

"Thanks." He didn't want to end up on the wrong flight. "How are you feeling?"

After Steve, Natasha, and Wanda left, Alya had managed to stop crying so she wouldn't draw any unwanted attention. Peter thought it was scary how quickly she managed to suck in her tears and dry her eyes as if nothing happened. He wondered what kind of horrible human beings forced her to learn such a skill.

For the past several minutes, all she did was stare off into space, watching the planes take off into the sky. She didn't tell him where she was going, and he couldn't read Cyrillic, so he had no guesses.

"Fine." She sounded so robotic, like a mini adult. She was so carefree and childlike with her mother, but now she sounded like she was fully capable of taking care of herself.

Which she was. She was more than capable of taking care of herself. It was just that the past four years made her realize that she didn't have to and it was a bit of an adjustment to be pulled out of that mindset.

She couldn't afford to be a kid right now. Not for her own sake, and definitely not for Peter's.

Her eyes scanned for potential threats, nearest exits, and even mildly suspicious characters. She had a knife concealed in both her boots, a 'Wizard of Oz' button with Dorothy on it was stuck to her leather jacket, so she could use that for defense if she needed to. She had a couple of rings on her fingers and there was also still that knife she had stuffed into the cotton stuffing inside of George.

She was ready. Nobody would ever count on a little girl being able to defend herself, so she had the element of surprise on her side should something come up.

There weren't any threats that she could make out, but that didn't make her relax.

She was tense.

And she grew even more tense when it was announced that her flight was boarding.

Gate Four. It was a Red-Eye.

"That's me." She stood up, slinging her duffle over her shoulder. "I have to go."

Her throat hurt from the tears she was trying to hold back. She knew saying goodbye to Peter was going to be hard, but she thought that she was going to have more time to prepare for it. They were supposed to stay together. They were supposed to go downstairs to the basement and watch old musicals and dance along with them

It wasn't fair.

Peter didn't think this moment would come so soon. He really enjoyed spending his time with Alya. They had gotten to know each other in a different way this time, a better way.

"I'm not really good at goodbyes." She could see a bit of water in his brown orbs. "You're family...I don't like knowing whether or not you're safe. I don't like not knowing when I'm gonna see you again."

"Where I'm going, no one can get me. I'll be with my dad." She assured him. "It's the safest place I can go...tell Aunt May I said, 'hello', and can you apologize for me?"

"You don't have anything to be sorry for, but I will." He nodded. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

"You, too."

"And call me or write me if you can."

"I will." She sniffled. "Say, 'hi' to Uncle Tony for me."

"You got it." Peter flashed a watery smile, trying to conceal his feelings for her sake. "I'll see you soon. You owe me a movie musical marathon."

"That's right." She laughed softly. "I do."

"Четвертые ворота. Теперь посадка. Четвертые ворота. Теперь посадка." (Gate Four. Now boarding. Gate Four. Now boarding.) A flight attendant spoke.

"You'd better go. You don't want to miss your flight."

"Yeah." Alya bit her lip and picked up Mischief's kennel. "Remember, Ворота пять."

"Got it." He smiled as they hugged.

She gave him a gentle squeeze before turning away and making her way towards the gate. But not before whirling around and throwing her arms around him once again.

"I love you." She whispered.

"I love you, too." He cradled her head.

And just like that, she was gone.

Turns out, Alya's flight had been direct to Nigeria. It was a nice flight, all things considered. There was no turbulence or yelling, or crying babies. Everything went very smoothly.

Once she landed, she kept a good grip on her bag and Mischief's kennel, really not knowing who she was looking for or what she was doing.

She didn't know how to navigate her way through the airport to find anything because she didn't know the language. This was all new to her.

"Alya?"

A loud gasp escaped her throat as she took a step back from the person that had approached her without warning.

As she regained her bearings, Alya looked the woman up and down, trying to get a read on her. Clearly, she had an accent. She was very tall compared to her small frame and her head was shaved.

If Alya was guessing correctly, this woman was a part of the Dora Milaje from Wakanda. But she wasn't going to just let her guard down without confirmation.

"Who's asking?"

"My name is Ayo." The tall woman answered. "I was sent here to escort you to Wakanda."

"How do I know you're not lying?"

"Your stuffed companion's name is George." Ayo motioned towards the monkey in her arms.

"Anybody could know that." Alya quirked a brow. "There are books about him."

"Lo mntwana unenkani ukodlula uyise." (This child is more stubborn than her father.) Ayo fought not to roll her eyes. "Your cat's name is Mischief."

That gave Alya pause. No one outside of the family knew her cat's name. Plus, the language Ayo was speaking was pretty unfamiliar to her. It didn't sound like any language she heard getting off the plane.

She didn't completely trust her, but there was no reason to think that she was out to hurt her.

"Okay." She conceded.

"Your father has been waiting for you."

Ayo didn't speak very much. In fact, she hadn't uttered a single word to Alya for nearly the entire ride to their destination. Alya tried to make herself scarce and keep herself busy, but it was proving difficult. She was just a little kid with nothing to do and no one to talk to. She was bound to grow bored eventually.

It was a good thing she had Mischief with her. If she had to leave her cat behind, she might not have been able to cope.

Wakanda was just as beautiful as the last time she stepped foot in it. The trees were so large, the grass was so green, the air was so clean. It was so...peaceful.

"Follow me." The very first words Ayo had spoken in hours.

Alya was still trying to figure her out. She knew she could trust her, but to what extent? Was she really nice down under that tough exterior? Or was she just as cold as she was making herself out to be?

She guessed she'd find out soon enough.

The twelve year old grabbed her bag and threw it over her shoulders before lifting Mischief up to carry her, still in her kennel, so she wouldn't run off, before she followed Ayo out of the jet. The woman never once turned around to make sure she was following, but Alya assumed she'd been listening for little footsteps pattering behind her as confirmation.

She walked fast, though. She'd certainly fit in back in New York. Everybody walked fast there. If you didn't walk fast, you were in the way. As long as Alya had been living in New York, she felt like she had to jog just to keep up with the woman.

Maybe it was because Ayo's legs were so much longer than hers.

And she stopped so abruptly, Alya had to restrain herself from bumping into her.

"My king." Ayo greeted T'Challa. "I have brought the child safely."

"You have my thanks." He nodded, watching as she walked away before turning his attention to Alya.

Alya didn't remember him being that tall the last time they met. Why was he so tall? And why was everyone staring at her? She knew she wasn't Wakandan, but it felt so odd and uncomfortable to have everyone stare at her like she was the new kid on the first day of school. She'd been through that already and she didn't want to have to put herself through that again.

Once was enough.

"Welcome back, Alya." He gave her a friendly smile, to which she returned, if only a bit less enthusiastic. "How was the flight?"

"It was okay. Thank you." Alya found her voice, keeping her pet close while also trying not to let everyone's stares bother her. "Mischief was excited to come. She's never been here before."

"Well, I hope she enjoys her stay. I think there is someone here to see you."

Alya watched as the tall man stepped aside to reveal her father making his way over to them.

He looked so much better than he had after Siberia. His eyes weren't as haunted, his arm, or rather, lack thereof, didn't look painful anymore, and he was even letting both the hair on his head and the hair on his face grow.

Alya didn't know what to make of the beard, but she could get used to it. He looked kind of handsome with it anyway.

Now, she didn't know what the protocol for this was. Was it okay if she hugged him? Would he want her to just wave and say hello?

Their relationship was just in the baby stages and Alya really didn't want to do anything to mess it up. She wanted to have a close relationship with her father like other kids did. They got to talk about things and play games, or cuddle up to their dads without second guessing themselves.

She didn't know how long she had been standing there thinking, but it must've been a while because Bucky was standing right in front of her now.

She should probably say hello or something. Maybe ask him how he's been doing. But she couldn't think of anything else to keep the ball rolling, so she just kept her mouth shut.

Bucky's facial expressions weren't really giving her insights on how he was feeling, so that didn't help her at all.

It was now or never. "Hi, Papa." She greeted, hugging her monkey closer to her body to comfort herself.

"Hi, Doll." He smiled a smile that actually reached his eyes. "Can I take your bag for you?"

"I can hold it."

Why would she say that? That was dumb. If she hoped to ever have a nice relationship, she had to give a little. Didn't fathers hold their daughters bags for them?

She saw Clint carry something heavy for Lila a few times. Steve always made an effort to help her out with stuff. And she also saw something similar on a few reruns of 'Full House'.

"Are you sure?" Bucky asked gently, trying not to push too hard. "It looks heavy."

Alya nodded and shrugged her bag off of her back, allowing him to swing it over his shoulder with ease, leading her away from everyone, but not before thanking King T'Challa once again.

"C'mon, let's go home."

Home sounded nice. She could have two homes, right? One with Natasha and one with Bucky.

And maybe, just maybe…..one day, she wouldn't need two homes anymore? Maybe they could all live together and be a family?

She was getting ahead of herself. The important thing right now, was being in the moment. She didn't even know where her mother was right now. She had to take it one step at a time.

So, taking a deep breath and calming her own nerves, she lifted her hand and slowly slipped it inside of his.

Bucky almost stopped walking altogether when he felt her little hand grasp his. Her precious little hand that he had kissed all those years ago back in the Red Room. The little hand he didn't think he'd ever have the privilege of seeing once they'd been separated.

Now it was right here, in his own.

She was right here.

No one was going to take her away from him ever again.

"This is it." Bucky stopped in front of a little hut a ways away from the palace grounds with plenty of open land surrounding it and some animals roaming around. "I have a cot set up for you and Shuri brought you some clothes. It'll get too hot for what you're wearing."

He could see that this visit had been as urgent as Steve told him it was. Alya was still dressed in her sleepwear, having not had any time to change out of them into regular clothes.

It was already too hot for what she was wearing. Her pajama shirt was sticking to her back underneath her jacket and her pants felt like an oven. She needed to get out of these clothes before she burned from the inside out.

"Why don't you go on in and get changed and I'll wait for you out here." He suggested.

"Okay." She nodded, taking her bag back.

The little hut was a mansion to Alya. It was beautiful. The straw roof and the wooden foundation made little difference to her. She was going to enjoy living here.

She set her bag down on the floor by the cot she would be sleeping on and allowed Mischief to roam around to get a feel for the place.

It wasn't hard to find the clothes Shuri left. They were so bright and beautiful, Alya was afraid to touch them for fear of ruining them somehow. Eventually, she worked up the courage to pick something up and change into it.

It was a green patterned dress, native to the country, that wasn't too long or too loose on the child. Shuri had even left a scarf to match, which Alya used to get her thick hair out of her face. Having no pockets, she tucked a blade into her head scarf and safely secured it.

Old habits die hard.

Once she felt like she was ready, she stepped out of the hut, pulling the curtain back. Her toes were tickled by the earth beneath them as she decided to forgo any shoes she might have worn.

But it felt nice. Like she was connected to the earth somehow.

Bucky only smiled wider when he saw her. "You fit right in, Doll."

She looked adorable.

"Thank you."

If only she knew how much he loved her. She didn't know now, but that was okay, he'd have plenty of time to show her.

A/N: Wow, I wasn't even planning on posting today, but inspiration struck! I was pretty sad while writing Peter and Alya's goodbye. But! Alya and Bucky have finally been reunited! We love a father/daughter duo!