As Time Goes By

by BouncingKappa

Sequel to Songbirds and Bombshells! Sadie Reid disappeared in 1949, never to be seen again until she resurfaces in 2016 with no memory of how she got there and one clue: the dog tags of her supposedly dead fiance, Bucky Barnes. Bucky is in Wakanda hoping for a chance at the freshest start he can get. Love found them once in the unlikeliest place, can it bring them together again?

12. Little by Little

A/N: Me? Update? It happens sometimes. In the last...however many months it's been since I updated - I moved to a new state, bought a house, baby Kappa turned one and...a whole bunch of other stuff happened. As an act of contrition I'm providing you with a giant chapter full of lots of things.

In the meantime, thank you so much for your follows, favorites, and reviews! Even in my prolonged absences I check and read everything! Extra thank you to lyssxo who did the beta for this chapter!

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel, I think you know that by now.

Chapter 11 - Little by Little

"Shuri?"

"Yes?"

"If you don't stop that I'm going to throw this at you."

At once, Shuri lifted her hand off her desk where she'd been tapping her fingernails on the shining glass surface. The unimpressed expression on her face suggested she would love nothing more than to call Bucky's bluff. Bucky knew just as well as she did that he wouldn't dare throw the rubber ball in his hand at a princess but she relented all the same and he appreciated that. Shuri folded her arms over her chest and resorted to silently drumming her fingers on her upper arm. She continued to stare at him the way she'd been staring at him almost all morning long.

Having her eyes on him, waiting for some miraculous change in the status quo, was almost as irritating as the uncooperative fingers on his shiny, brand new left hand. The normally pristine floor of her lab had become home to a graveyard of mangled and destroyed stress balls. Bits of rubber from completely obliterated specimens scattered as far as the windows looking onto the vibranium mine and other corpses appeared to have been blown at the seam, laying listless like muted blue citrus peels. Each piece of the unusual collection originated from a single large box and each ball met its grisly end in Bucky's uncoordinated, poorly controlled grasp.

Although he'd been listening intently to every word Shuri said while she worked on his shoulder plate, Bucky hadn't entirely believed her. This model is more sensitive than your old one, she'd warned while she pried off the bright silver plates on his shoulder to reveal the mechanism beneath. Over three days, he'd been forced to suffer the indignity of sitting shirtless, draped in a sterile cloth, on one of her work stools while she methodically stripped the plate and socket down to the bare minimum and then rebuilt the entire port, shoulder, and joint. Where his old arm was a single piece of machinery, blown off by Tony Stark, the new arm was split into two components: the new shoulder and the arm itself. Bucky recalled Shuri explaining that the new neural link was going to be far more receptive than the old arm and as a result, he would have a greater range of motion, better pressure sensors, and far more dexterity.

The trade-off, however, was evident in the mess fanning out across the floor from his feet. To achieve markedly improved performance, Bucky was going to have to contend with learning the entirely new prosthetic and teaching his brain to adjust to a new level of sensitivity. In theory, it was just like driving two different cars: one with a stubborn brake and another that was light as a feather. The slightest amount of pressure over what was required would send the more sensitive car screeching to a halt and if Bucky even twitched his fingers a little tighter around the hollow stress ball it would inevitably pop, sending the rubber flying from his grip. He'd lost count of his miniature victims but his frustration grew with every single failure.

Trying to learn the new mechanism was a challenge in and of itself but doing it under Shuri's eagle-eyed, expectant gaze made matters ten times worse. For a while earlier that morning Sadie had been there to buffer the tension, quietly reading a medical textbook while Shuri took more blood samples but then Nakia called her away to make final preparations for their trip to Vienna the following morning. Now it was just him destroying rubber balls while Shuri clicked her tongue in irritation. The mere thought diverted his concentration and he lost focus, tripping the sensors and popping yet another ball. Shuri rolled her eyes before letting her forehead fall to the table with a protracted groan.

"Come on, Sergeant Barnes. It's like you're not even trying!"

"I am trying," he ground out, glaring at her beneath his furrowed brows.

There wasn't much he wouldn't have given to have Sadie return to serve as a buffer again. Hell, at this point Bucky was certain Okoye could be standing in the corner glaring at him and that would have sufficiently cut the tension. He didn't relish the idea of losing his temper in front of Shuri and he certainly didn't want to lash out but her impatience was only fanning the flames of his irritation, threatening to billow into a full-blown angry blaze.

"I told you this wasn't going to be easy!" Shuri plowed on, acting as if she hadn't heard him. "If you're going to enjoy an advanced prosthetic then you have to learn how to use it."

"I am learning how to use it," he snapped. How much trouble would he get in for yelling at royalty?

"Oh really? Because where I'm sitting it looks like you're just trying to drown us in rubber. I only have so many of these left!"

Bucky glared daggers in her direction, casting aside the scraps in his palm and thrusting his right hand into the box next to him. A childish, churlish part of him was sorely tempted to take every single ball left in the box and pop it on purpose just to annoy her. In his opinion, Shuri oversold how quickly he'd master his new arm and she didn't have the right to be so irritated. She didn't have to try to align his brain with a machine, she didn't have to fight against decades of programming and she certainly didn't carry the weight he felt even with this bloodless, lighter arm. Sucking in a sharp breath, Bucky reminded himself that regardless of Shuri's belligerent attitude, he was the adult in this situation who simply could not go around belittling a teenager; no matter how much she deserved a taste of her own medicine.

"The neural link is a lot more sensitive than my last model which was made in the seventies," he emphasized.

Shuri paused. Folding her arms on the table she rested her chin atop them. Bucky tossed the ball in his hand against the wall and caught it as it flew back. He did it again and again while Shuri chewed over this revelation.

"I'm actually impressed it lasted as long as it did," she remarked. "Or that the KGB had that kind of technology."

"It wasn't made by the KGB," he reminded her, frowning as he threw the ball a little harder at the wall. "And HYDRA had a good blueprint. Arnim Zola was a real bastard but he was also a goddamned genius."

Even saying Zola's name out loud sent a chill through him. Bucky only had one regret greater than not killing that mad scientist when he had the chance. More than once over the last two years he'd lamented the fact that his life would have been vastly different if he had.

"How long did it take you to get used to the first one?"

One of Bucky's first memories to return to him revolved around the moment he woke up in a dank infirmary in an even worse facility in HYDRA's care. Disoriented and riddled with pain, his confusion descended into abject horror when he raised his hands only to discover one of them was silver and shiny. Blind with panic that bubbled into a rage, he'd lashed out at the person closest to him, forcing cold metal around the medical assistant's throat. It took three other men to pry Bucky's hand off the unconscious assistant. Bucky never heard if he survived though he supposed it didn't really matter to him one way or the other. That moment began the long and bloody relationship with his prosthetic, one of his deadliest weapons. He hadn't just gotten used to the silver arm with the red star, he'd mastered it and in the process became one of the world's most ruthless killers. Bucky's stomach lurched uncomfortably.

"Not long enough," he replied and left it at that.

Shuri sighed. "That doesn't even make sense."

It didn't have to make sense and when she realized that Bucky wasn't going to elaborate further she waved her hand at the rubber ball.

"Come on, then. That hand won't master itself."

The old soldier in Bucky knew there was a dirty joke buried somewhere in her innocent statement. He let it go and tried to do as Shuri asked. Another three destroyed test subjects later and their moment of understanding was long gone and Bucky's frustrations were back to scratching the glass ceiling of his patience. He was saved by the appearance of a king's attendant.

"What does my brother want now?"

The attendant nodded towards Bucky. "His Majesty would like to meet with Sergeant Barnes."

Bucky was beginning to think that the whole of Wakanda thought his name was actually Sergeant Barnes and not just a rank he'd shed a long, long time ago. He'd grown weary of correcting everyone who talked to him and gave up. Leaving the rubber ball on the table he gave Shuri an apologetic smile, though the both of them knew he was beyond relieved to escape the confines of her lab.

"Sorry, Shuri. Duty calls."

"Mhmm, don't think for a second I'm finished with you!" She called after him as he followed the attendant out.

Bucky didn't imagine for a second that she was going to give up on him that easily.

X X X

For the life of him, Bucky couldn't figure out what T'Challa wanted. Since his arrival the king had been a fleeting figure in his life, appearing infrequently as Bucky went about his daily business. Bucky assumed it was because T'Challa just had better things to do with his time than worry about Shuri's pet project. T'Challa was responsible for overseeing an entire nation and on top of that, he was trying to guide his hesitant people into the greater world, going against the grain of centuries of tradition. Bucky often had trouble talking himself out of bed in the mornings, he couldn't imagine the weight of those decisions resting on T'Challa's shoulders.

Which begged the greater question. If T'Challa was so busy then what the hell could Bucky do for him? Bucky's interest in world affairs began and ended with how to stay off the radar and he would rather fall off a cliff than play politics. He was a war criminal, wanted on at least three continents and God-only-knew how many countries and was such a mental basket case that he still wasn't entirely certain he was sane. There was absolutely nothing he could offer the king except for his super-soldier abilities but even then, Bucky couldn't fathom a need for that, not in a country that had the technology to eclipse his enhancements.

The sun beat down on his back as the transport zipped down the lane towards the palace. As slowly as possible he pulled his left hand free from his pants pocket and opened his palm. Sunlight shattered over the surface of the vibranium, catching the rises and planes of his palm, his fingertips, and down his wrist. Though he'd lived with a prosthetic arm for seven decades now, he sometimes still found himself surprised by the false limb. He could clearly remember the moment he'd lost his arm, watching the train grow smaller and smaller as he hurtled down into a snow-packed ravine. Gravity twisted and turned his body and the rockface sloped inward as he raced to the ravine floor. Then there was a sickening crunch, blinding pain, a bone-crushing impact, and nothing. Bucky never even saw the remains of his left arm when he came to in the snow, panting through his broken ribs, wondering if every breath would be his last. All he could do was wait and hope, praying that the next time he came to he would feel Sadie's soft touch at his temple or hear Steve's reassuring voice, promising him that everything was going to be okay.

But they never came. And things were never okay after that.

"Sergeant Barnes?"

Bucky! His name was Bucky!

He blinked stupidly at the attendant who was already standing on the stone path leading to the palace.

"Yeah, sorry."

Snapping his left hand shut he held it close to his side and followed the attendant. He forced himself to remember that this was the second chance he didn't deserve and the hand attached to him now had nothing to do with HYDRA or his bloody memories. This hand was a blank slate and he could choose to write with it however he wished.

He repeated that thought like a mantra as he passed through the main entrance of the palace and beyond the massive double doors into the throne room.

The only warning he got that something was amiss was a flash of red. He raised his arm at the last possible second to deflect the crushing blow of a silver spear.

"What the hell!" He thrust forward, pushing the Dora Milaje soldier off him only to just narrowly duck Ayo's spear swinging from the opposite direction.

Two of Wakanda's finest flanked him, hackles raised like lions on the savannah cornering their prey. Between them he caught sight of T'Challa sitting on his throne and Okoye at his side, both of them watching with the same droll interest, as though the burgeoning fight was nothing more than a mildly entertaining sideshow.

Ayo lunged. Bucky side-stepped her and let the spear glance off his metal arm; he moved to twist around in an attempt to knock her weapon free but she was too fast. Damn, she was fast! So was her partner and he found himself on the full defensive, blocking and ducking the attempted blows. He took a sharp fist to the jaw and he narrowly missed the pointed end of a spear, swinging around one of the columns for cover. A spear surged forward and this time he got a hold of it with his right hand, swinging hard and sending the soldier reeling backward in the face of his superior strength. Bucky wasn't one to employ that super soldier strength if he didn't have to but ambushes called for different measures. He flipped the spear up and whirled around in time to meet Ayo's blow as she struck downwards, flying in from who-knew-where. He'd heard of the prowess of the famed Dora Milaje but he'd never experienced it until now.

The women barked at each other in their own tongue. Bucky only knew a handful of words and not enough to pick up their coordinated movements but he could figure them out easily enough. They worked in seamless tandem, when one ebbed the other surged, constantly leaving him expending more energy. But Bucky had energy, strength, and experience to spare. The soldier he'd disarmed came charging for her spear and he hit her square in the stomach with the butt of it, sending her flying backward. She skidded to a halt several feet away, bouncing back up with a wince that he didn't see because he was too busy fending off Ayo who was the superior fighter of the two. Their spears clashed with ear-splitting clangs that echoed in the cavernous throne room. Ayo caught the tip of his spear and nearly knocked it free from his hands. She was too proficient with the weapon whereas Bucky had almost no training - he knew how to point and shoot and was good with a knife but the spear felt unwieldy in his hands and it showed as he stumbled back, transitioning to full defense under the weight of Ayo's attack. Her companion came at his flank and he dropped low to sweep her feet out beneath her with the spear and came up whirling around as Ayo started in on him again, catching the tip of her spear on his left shoulder. It sliced through his sleeve like butter and ground against the metal panels of his arm. Ayo attacked again and he deflected it with his forearm. If he could just get the other spear!

Bucky had the clarity to recognize that these women were among the most competent, disciplined fighters he'd ever faced. Most soldiers and mercenaries he'd run into relied too heavily on brute strength or their guns to do the talking. The Dora Milaje, though strong and deadly accurate, were so well-versed in technique that they almost appeared to be dancing before Bucky's eyes. A horrible part of him relished in the fluidness of their movements, rushing him again and again like waves beating the rocky shore. Ayo's partner closed a hand over the spear and almost pulled it free.

Bucky, who hadn't been thinking at all about his unreliable left hand, meant to close his hand tighter over the spear to keep the soldier from taking it back. But he made the mistake of glancing at his hand and his previous failures returned. The spear collapsed under the pressure of his grip, the thin, hollow vibranium pole no match for his solid fingers. It bent at an odd angle, rendering it almost entirely useless. The soldier sprang back, eyes wide in shock. Letting out a violent curse and tired of dealing with the stupid spear, Bucky chucked the spear towards the wall where it buried itself deep in the space between two enormous marble panels. The young warrior blinked in surprise, staring after her weapon. Bucky swung back around to deflect Ayo, now angry that he was dealing with his stupid malfunctioning brain and his stupid malfunctioning hand on top of an unwanted fight.

Wasn't he done fighting? Wasn't that the whole purpose of coming to Wakanda?

"C'mon, Ayo, what the hell?" Bucky groaned; what was her deal? Hadn't they just reached a friendly understanding the other day? He didn't know how long this was going to go on but he didn't relish dragging it out or worse, having to pull a few unpleasant tricks out of his arsenal - such as he could with his near-useless hand.

T'Challa clapped once and both women immediately stepped back and to the side, straight-backed. Ayo flipped her spear over her expert hand to rest the butt on the floor and raised her eyebrows once at Bucky and he swore he thought he saw the trace of a smile twitching at her lips. Bucky wiped the sweat from his brow and pushed his hair away from his face, grimacing when he realized his left hand was twitching uncontrollably. He curled his fingers into a fist to get it to stop, feeling it reverberate up his arm. He glanced at the spear embedded in the wall.

"I'm not paying for that."

Ayo raised a hand to cover her mouth when she coughed to mask a shocked laugh. Okoye's frown deepened so much that Bucky was sorely tempted to warn her that her face might get stuck that way. T'Challa, on the other hand, merely smirked as if significant damage to the throne room of his palace was just another regular Tuesday.

"Impressive," T'Challa remarked though his wan tone suggested otherwise.

Bucky scowled. "You couldn't have warned a guy?"

"That would have defeated the purpose of the exercise," Okoye remarked. She dismissed her two soldiers who each offered a nod of respect to Bucky before departing. He watched Ayo's partner retreat to the wall where she grasped her spear and did her best to yank it free. She even went so far as to plant a foot against the wall to no avail. Ayo and Okoye both raised unamused eyebrows towards Bucky and he waved them down.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'll get it." He grasped the spear with his right hand and with a sharp tug, freed the spear, showering plaster and dust all over the floor. The young soldier gaped at him when she evaluated the dust coating the spear - no wonder she hadn't been able to pull it free, he'd sent it through the wall another two inches beyond the blade. Nodding to her he shoved his hands into his pockets and watched her hurriedly exit with Ayo, their heads bent together in conversation.

"What was the point then?" He asked T'Challa.

"We wanted to see your technique up close and personal," T'Challa remarked.

Bucky fought a snort of humorless laughter. "Last time I checked you've got personal knowledge."

T'Challa smiled, acknowledging their rocky road to the awkward, tentative relationship they shared that hovered somewhere between friends and close acquaintances. "How is your new arm treating you?"

Bucky considered the blue vibranium. It had done surprisingly well in the fight up until he crushed the spear, though he supposed that was because he hadn't had the time to think about it.

"I'm still getting used to it," he admitted. "But Shuri's work is solid."

"I'd expect nothing less." T'Challa rose to his feet and drifted towards the windows.

Bucky's frustration returned in full force. Hadn't he endured enough for one day without having to contend with ambushes and intentionally vague kings? He had not signed on for these kinds of shenanigans when he accepted T'Challa's offer of asylum. Okoye watched him the way a shopkeeper watched a suspected shoplifter and he could see her coiled up, ready to spring at the first suggestion of a threat to her king.

"Does anyone wanna explain what the hell that was?"

Okoye slid before him, cutting off his path to where T'Challa stood at the windows overlooking the city. "Watch your tone."

Even the way she spoke to him dripped with disdain and distrust. She didn't want him any closer to T'Challa than he needed to be and although Bucky supposed he didn't blame her, he was also starting to tire of her open disapproval. Holding his hands up, he backed off a step.

"You're the ones who attacked me, so I think it's only fair I get an explanation."

"Okoye," T'Challa called her off, though Bucky didn't miss her deep frown when she stepped aside.

"I have a proposition for you, Sergeant Barnes."

That got Bucky's attention. For some time he'd been wondering if he was really expected to just indefinitely hang around Wakanda recovering. There had to be some catch to his asylum, some need the king thought he could fulfill and that moment was finally here. Bucky crossed his arms over his chest.

"I'm listening."

"Now that you've bent to my sister's will and accepted a new arm, you are in a unique position." Bucky wasn't so sure he'd go so far as to say he bent to Shuri's will. "As you know, Wakanda is in the process of opening its borders to the world."

"Yeah, I heard something about that."

"Now that our secrets will be out in the open, there are going to be a lot of people with their eyes on our Vibranium." Bucky could understand how that could be a problem. "We have a network of intelligence operatives all over the world but we are a small country and our connections only reach so far. I believe that if Wakanda is going to properly take its place on the world stage I must use every resource available to me."

Ah, so that was the catch. "Such as a one-hundred-year-old former HYDRA covert assassin who can speak over seven languages and has operated on almost every continent?"

The corner of T'Challa's mouth rose. "Something like that, yes." He folded his hands behind his back, almost obnoxious in his confidence. "When I granted you asylum it was for the sole purpose of allowing you space to recover and perhaps to find peace but since you've arrived you've seemed…" T'Challa paused, taking the time to choose the right word. "Adrift."

Bucky couldn't help it. He snorted in laughter. "Adrift is one way to put it, yeah."

The truth was he'd been adrift long before coming to Wakanda. He'd come unmoored the second he pulled Steve out of the river and left him on the Potomac's muddy banks. For days after he'd wandered the streets in a daze, doing what he could to stay fed and undiscovered while he put the pieces together. Once he did figure out the truth he'd struggled for months to find any sense of purpose beyond simply existing with the weight of his guilt. At first, he'd embarked on the personal mission to find Sadie's final whereabouts as something simple he could do to control his spiraling life and possibly make amends for one of his biggest sins. But ever since he'd come to Wakanda and she'd come back into his life he did feel adrift, healing slowly and unsure of his place in the world beyond serving as Shuri's perpetual guinea pig in the tiny corner of Wakanda he took up.

"You're trained for more than killing," T'challa remarked.

Bucky supposed there was more than a grain of truth to that statement too. The SSR taught him the basics of espionage, interrogation, and even torture - HYDRA taught him the rest. "You want me to be your spy?"

"I would like you to join my intelligence corps. Your knowledge of HYDRA and the enduring world it is connected to would be invaluable to our efforts in recovering stolen vibranium and protecting our people and resources as we step onto the world stage."

Bucky scowled. He wasn't sure what he knew that would be of any help to T'Challa. For one thing, most of his connections were decades old and he wasn't certain any of them were still around. But perhaps the most glaring flaw in T'Challa's plan was the most obvious. "I'm not sure how helpful I'll be when I can't leave the country."

"We have ways of circumventing that," T'Challa explained, as infuriatingly vague as ever. "If you say yes, Shuri has developed certain technologies to help you blend into the outside world unnoticed." Bucky innards twisted in a knot. Sending him out, even disguised with the best of Wakandan technology, was an enormous risk to take. He couldn't even believe that T'Challa was suggesting it in the first place. As though T'Challa could read his mind, he reached out and clapped Bucky's shoulder. "I understand your hesitance. You are free to say no. I will not hold against you and we will continue to provide the care you need for recovery."

"But?" Bucky filled in the blank.

"I believe that we are similar, Sergeant Barnes. We are men of action. A life of stillness does not become us. Not when there are things and people in this world worth protecting."

Bucky wanted to point out that he'd lived enough for multiple lifetimes but stopped himself. The insinuation in T'Challa's final sentence hung heavy in the air. That was the hidden incentive. When T'Challa extolled on protecting Wakanda's resources he wasn't just talking about vibranium. There, hanging before him was the opportunity to make good on his reasons for replacing his arm, even to possibly make up for what he considered to be his greatest sin out of a painfully long list. To say he was tempted to take the enormous risk was a laughable understatement.

"Do you want me in Vienna?"

T'Challa shook his head. "You will not be briefed and trained in time for our departure. The Dora Milaje can provide adequate protection for such a quick diplomatic trip."

But there would be others. There was no way T'Challa could position Wakanda as a world power without making state visits and there was no way that Sadie could hole up in the palace forever. Vienna was a quick two-day turnaround but the next forays out into the greater world would be longer and far more elaborate and, consequently, more dangerous.

"Take some time to think about it, Sergeant Barnes. I will give you fair compensation for your work but it is not without risk."

Bucky understood what T'Challa wouldn't say. It would be on him to stay under the radar. There would be little T'Challa could do if Bucky was apprehended on foreign soil and he would never ask the king to further stick out his neck.

"Yeah, I will."

T'Challa dismissed him and Bucky left with a heavy heart. When he entered the common area he shared with Sadie it was to discover a gift from the princess. A box sat on the counter, almost brimming over with rubber balls. A note was taped to the front with the word 'practice' written in all capitals and underlined three times. Sadie glanced up from where she sat at the counter, re-immersed in her textbook, nibbling on a slice of pear.

"I see this morning went well."

Sadie's dry remark hit him in a way he didn't expect. She rested her chin in her hand, a wicked light dancing in her eyes. Bucky's stomach rolled pleasantly at the sight of her, shining curls spilling over one shoulder and her bare feet tapping along to a tune he couldn't hear. It was hard to believe that this time tomorrow she would be in Vienna, facing the world on her own and in a place where he couldn't reach her. T'Challa's offer remained at the forefront of his mind. Sure, joining Wakanda's intelligence division was a risk but it seemed so tiny to him when Sadie bounced one of the rubber balls off the floor in his direction. He caught it and held it up for her inspection.

"Funny," he remarked. "That's really funny, Sade."

Her facade broke and she laughed, lunging to catch the ball when he threw it back to her. "I'm sorry, I can't help it. It's just-the way Shuri looked when she dropped these off?"

"Like my mom after I got into another fight at school?" He suggested, feeling just a little lighter in the face of her enduring optimism.

"Actually it was more like she'd sucked on a lemon."

Bucky threw his head back and laughed. Sadie stood before him, tossing the ball between her hands. The way she smiled at him was like something from a dream, but it wasn't. It was real and his stomach swooped low in the best way possible. For just a moment they weren't stuck in a tangled mess of past and present, former lovers, and uncertain of their future. They were just Bucky and Sadie. He realized then just how much he missed this, the easy, unassuming nature of their friendship, and the way she could coax him out of a bad mood without even trying. Bucky's weathered heart swelled with affection.

"Come on," she shut her book and slid it away. "I'll help you or at least provide moral support."

At that moment, Bucky would have taken a right hook to the jaw so long as she was the one offering it. The answer to T'Challa's question wasn't even half as complicated as he'd fooled himself into believing. The king was right, some things and people in the world were worth protecting.

And to him, Sadie was worth more than all of them combined.

X X X

Hours later, the box of rubber balls sat untouched. It turned out that Sadie's idea of providing help and moral support included bugging off for the afternoon. Rather than spend the entire day likely repeating his failures with no sign of improvement, she suggested that he spend some time away from everything, away from the lab, from their living quarters, from the stupid rubber balls, and anything else that acted as a stressor. In her eyes, the palace was a museum that she was still keen to explore. Bucky thought that following Sadie's directive was akin to following doctor's orders. Back in the army, he was often at the mercy of Sadie or Evelyn, having gotten into one scrape or another, usually following Steve headlong into danger. Sadie never once steered him wrong in the past and so he took her judgment as gospel now, leaving the rubber balls behind and following her down the halls into the unexplored depths of the palace.

"Not that I'm not a fan of your approach, but why are we doing this?"

Sadie shrugged, staring up at the intricately carved columns lining the halls as they ambled along. "You've been going pretty much non-stop since you woke up, right?"

Bucky thought about his time since Shuri successfully deprogrammed him. He'd spent the majority of it bouncing between Shuri's lab, letting Ayo provide her own version of counsel, and then sitting with his therapist in stressful silence. His downtime was often filled with little projects given to him by Shuri - continuing the work of putting his memories back in order, cognitive strengthening exercises, his consistent failure to get a handle on meditation, and now trying to get his left hand to work properly.

"It feels like it."

Sadie ghosted her fingertips over a thick tapestry hanging from a wall, depicting a stunning relief of the savannah. "After the war, I treated a lot of soldiers that went straight from war to work, with no time to really even rehabilitate. You'd be amazed at how much good just a simple break or an afternoon off can do."

"It's weird hearing you talk about the end of the war. Where were you? When you heard?"

"Stationed in Okinawa, gearing up for the dreaded mainland invasion. One minute I was waiting for a resupply convoy then the next thing I know I'm standing with the hospital's commanding officers in the radio tent, listening to the Japanese surrender. We got orders to stand down and hold our position. And that was it." A lake took up one corner of the tapestry, surrounded by a herd of zebra pausing for a drink beneath the blazing orange sun. White and silver threads swirled throughout the water to give it depth and Sadie traced the tip of her index finger along one of the swirls. Though she was intent on the tapestry she seemed to be two thousand miles away, staring out over a completely different vista. "I don't even remember what I was doing when Hitler surrendered; probably up to my elbows in viscera."

All Bucky could think about was that they should have been together. In the precious quiet moments, they'd dared to discuss the end of the war and what it would be like to be free. They talked about all the champagne they would drink and all the things they would do as soon as they touched down on American soil. But the champagne and everything that was meant to follow it never happened. Instead, Sadie had been half a world away and he was...well, he didn't even want to think about where he was when the war ended.

Sadie let her hand sweep off the tapestry and cascade through her curls, pushing them away from her clear face and shaking her fingers free, sending the waterfall down her back. Every step she took was at once aimless and filled with purpose. Bucky got the impression that she knew exactly what she was doing in everything, whether it was pouring through textbooks to catch up or ambling down an empty hallway with him in tow, hanging on her every word. They'd spent plenty of time together in the past and enjoyed lots of long walks through London's gloomy streets but as she paused to admire another tapestry several feet down, Bucky was struck with the memory of her emerging from a hospital tent in Italy, fresh off a brutal shift in the malaria ward and in desperate need of fresh air. Back then she only barely tolerated him but somehow he managed to coax a handful of laughs out of her, including his utterly sincere promise to lead her through the Met and invent as many ridiculous facts about the art as he could. Warmth spread over his chest and slipped into his veins when he considered how nice it would have been to hold her hand in those marble halls, bringing his lips close to her ear so he could whisper anything funny that came to mind, just to see if he could get her to laugh out loud in a quiet gallery.

He didn't realize she'd trailed on without him until she paused and turned halfway back to him. Sadie started to raise her hand to him but thought better of it and instead jerked her head towards the exit of the hall, leading to a new adventure.

"You coming?"

They walked in peaceful silence and Bucky tried his hardest not to stare at her while they wandered.

"I don't mind talking about it. Well-" she tilted her head and pursed her lips thoughtfully. "That's not completely true. I guess I don't mind talking about it to you. So if there's anything you want to know, all you have to do is ask."

Bucky wished he could extend the same courtesy to her. There were some things he wasn't sure he'd ever be ready to talk about and even if he was there was no way he would ever tell Sadie. Some details were too wretched, too unforgivable that she would never be able to look at him again if she knew. He could barely look at himself most of the time knowing what he knew. And though she didn't acknowledge this disparity aloud, Bucky knew that she was aware; Sadie was too smart to be dumb to his hesitance and too damned good at measuring her emotional responses to let any disappointment on her end show. For the time being, he took advantage of that. Maybe one day he'd be able to tell her some of it but for now, he was content to latch onto any other topic of conversation.

Sadie ultimately found one.

"Can I ask what King T'Challa wanted?"

Bucky took the opening and ran with it.

"He, uh-he wants me to join his intelligence division."

"Wow, that's not what I expected."

"Yeah, me either."

Bucky then found himself describing the fight to her, his conversation with T'Challa, and the decision facing him all while getting utterly lost somewhere on the main level of the palace.

He lost track of time as they wandered through the halls, trailed past the packed bookshelves in the library, and sat in the shade of the sun-washed trees in the gardens. Once they got started down a real conversational path they couldn't seem to stop talking. For hours they dissected a whole host of topics. Sadie talked about medical school, about working with Nakia on Wakanda's outreach program, and a thousand other little things that came to mind in between listening to Bucky describe modern Europe, the odd jobs he'd done to stay afloat for two years on the run and all the little things he'd picked up along the way. He couldn't remember the last time he'd talked this much. It had been decades, probably since the last time he had this much unfettered alone time with Sadie.

The more time Bucky spent with Sadie, the more he started to untangle some of the snarls in his tangled mess of emotions. He could freely admit now that he'd missed her. Bucky missed the way she talked with her hands, how her nose scrunched up when she laughed, and oh the sound of her laughter - all bells and smoke and honey. More than the sound of her voice and the music of her laugh though, Bucky missed the way she engaged him. When Sadie listened she did it with her whole body, unconsciously turning towards him, mouth parted softly while she watched his mouth. She always knew the right things to say in response and asked the best questions, leading him further down their conversational rabbit holes until he'd lost all sense of self-consciousness. Sadie didn't care that he'd spent two years practically homeless, doing odd jobs and handyman work to feed himself while he tried to collect the scattered pieces of his life. He found himself further drawn to her, beyond just physical attraction, and as they retreated to their shared space, Bucky couldn't remember the last time he'd had such a good day.

Sadie took it upon herself to rummage through the fridge and the pantry, managing to concoct dinner out of a handful of ingredients and thin air. Bucky hovered next to her while she cooked. He couldn't help himself. In his opinion, her hands were living artwork and he could have spent all night watching her do the most mundane tasks, chopping vegetables included.

As dusk gave way to night, their plates sat off to the side, littered with the remnants of dinner. Bucky was a loose mess of comfortable muscles in his chair, arm draped over the back of the empty stool next to his and a glass of whiskey dangling precariously from his fingers. He was trying and mostly failing to keep himself from laughing even as Sadie wiped tears of mirth from her eyes.

"I'm serious!" He argued, grinning as she continued to laugh. "One second I'm standing next to Dum Dum and the next I know he's slumped on the floor. I went to help pull him back up but my drill sergeant told me if I did he'd kick my ass from one end of the parade grounds to the other and I believed him. So I'm just standing there waiting for inspection, with Dum Dum, drunk as a skunk on the floor, and I thought he was passed out until-"

"Oh no, don't tell me," Sadie groaned behind her hands, knowing exactly where the story was going.

"Our CO got most of it, all over his polished boots but I got some of the blowback. It smelled so bad," Bucky exclaimed. "I thought the man was going to pull his pistol out and shoot 'ole Dum Dum on the spot. I'm pretty sure he had KP duty and had to run the five-mile loop in full gear every day for a month."

"He always had a flair for the dramatic."

Bucky thought Sadie was being particularly charitable with her description. He would have described Dum Dum as an unholy pain in the ass, although he was one of Bucky's favorite people. He'd also been one of Bucky's biggest cheerleaders and the person who encouraged him to pursue Sadie in the first place. Considering the way she beamed at him over the rim of her wine glass, Bucky also thought that qualified Dum Dum as a genius in his book. Eventually, their mirth dissipated and Sadie's rare moment of buoyancy gave way to the quiet sort of contentment he remembered from their time together. Her attention turned from him to the rubber balls, still beckoning to be ruined.

"I suppose you should at least give it a shot tonight."

Bucky wished he didn't have to. He wanted to live in this bubble forever, a tiny heaven where he could just pretend that he and Sadie weren't still standing on precarious ground. The entire day felt like something from a dream and he didn't want to wake up. Yet he knew if Shuri found out he'd blown off her exercises in favor of spending the whole day hanging on his ex-fiance's every word she would have a coronary.

"Yeah, alright. But don't expect great shakes."

He'd spent almost the whole afternoon with his left hand firmly planted in his pocket or hanging listlessly at his side. The appendage seemed to work perfectly fine when he didn't need to use it. Sadie retrieved a couple of stress balls for him and deposited the first one into his left palm. So far so good, he thought and tried to carry over his relaxed feeling from the day to now. But it was just like the fight in the throne room, the second he looked at his hand and started to think about what he was trying to do he lost it. Sadie jumped in surprise when the ball popped, raining scraps down on them. He fought a groan when she picked a piece of rubber out of her hair and flicked it onto her dinner plate.

Her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she caught her lower lip between her teeth. He could practically see the gears whirring in her head, trying to assess the situation and come up with a workable solution.

"Maybe you're thinking about it too hard," she suggested and Bucky's scowl deepened.

Of course he was overthinking it. He'd gone through a couple of HYDRA arms over the years and none of them were ever this difficult to master. The overconfident part of him that had actually lived with these prosthetics for multiple decades just assumed that this was going to be a piece of cake. Bucky scowled at the muted cobalt vibranium.

Sadie plucked another ball from the box and then dragged her stool over to be right next to him. Bucky's face scrunched in confusion when she held up the stress ball and then took his right hand.

"Here," she pressed the ball into his palm and curled his fingers around it.

Bucky might have been taken aback by her boldness if not for the complete clinical bent she'd taken. He'd forgotten she could do that, shift into Sadie the practitioner without even realizing she'd done it but she did it all the time. There was no such thing as awkward tension when she focused on a task and Bucky followed her into this new territory.

"Squeeze the ball with your right hand and focus on how it feels. The weight in your palm, the tension pushing back against your hand. Think about the muscles you use, how much strength you use, and how much you don't." She continued to hold his hand, resting the back of it in her palm. Bucky tried not to think about her touch and to do as she instructed. "Close your eyes if that helps."

Bucky could have listened to the soft, encouraging tone of her voice all day. Allowing his eyes to fall shut, he zeroed in on the stress ball, flexing each of his fingers around it. He felt her gently remove the ball from his right hand and took his left, pressing the rubber against his cool metal palm.

"Try to remember how it felt in your right hand."

This was much easier said than done but Bucky exhaled and nodded. He felt the tips of his fingers twitch, pressing into the ball but then he stopped, holding it firmly in his hand. Bucky's eyes opened to see him holding the ball in a firm but appropriate grasp.

"I'll be damned," he muttered and his eyes flickered up once to catch Sadie's smile.

Bucky's heart stumbled over a beat and the impulse to lock himself back down shot through the neural link, down the length of his arm, and- "Son of a bitch!"

More mangled rubber shot towards the ceiling and he hurled the rest of it across the room in a fit of anger.

"Hey, hey, it's okay!"

Bucky blinked somewhat stupidly at Sadie. In the split-second of his ire, he'd completely forgotten she was still next to him, hands still outstretched to help. The surprise lasted for a second before his frustration returned, clouding his mood and tightening his muscles. He frowned at the handful of rubber flecks that dotted the table, spread out like confetti from the parade celebrating his total failure. The next time he saw Shuri she was going to get an earful for doing this to him. He'd been willing to replace his prosthetic but he never expected mastering it was going to be so damned hard. When he wiggled his fingers they moved too much, flashing under the cool lights.

"I'm really starting to regret this," he grumbled, glaring at the too-flexible joints.

"Shuri said it was going to take a while to establish the neural connections. What she's done is a miracle, all things considered, and after spending a few weeks here I'm convinced nobody else could have done it."

"A miracle," Bucky repeated with a hollow half-laugh. "Yeah, this thing's a real gift, just another weapon to add back to the arsenal."

When Sadie frowned a little line appeared between her eyebrows. He didn't like the wrinkle any more than he liked the fact that she'd seen his temporary lapse in restraint. But if Sadie was at all concerned or appalled by his behavior she never let it show. Instead, she dropped her chin in her hand, fixing him with a quizzical brow. "Then why did you have it done? You were so against replacing your prosthetic and then one morning I wake up and you're suddenly whistling a different tune. If your feelings haven't changed then why do it at all?"

A blush rose up the back of Bucky's neck and threatened to swirl into his cheeks. He'd hoped that when Sadie didn't initially push that she'd just decided not to question his motivations but he should have known better. In the three weeks since their reunion, Bucky discovered that Sadie was just as inquisitive and whip-smart as ever, picking up on the tiniest nuances in his behavior that he didn't even notice himself. She knew him far too well and in this case, she would see through a lie a mile away. His insides squirmed, how much longer did he have until she picked up on his other omissions and half-truths?

"Bucky," she prompted him when he didn't immediately answer her. Bucky wished he didn't like the way she drew out his name, her southern drawl pulling out the 'y.'

"I did it-" he couldn't meet her eye lest he sink into the floor and die of embarrassment. "I changed my mind after I saw the scars on your shoulder."

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught her eyebrows fly up in surprise. Unconsciously, her hand flew to her affected shoulder, fingers reaching towards the crisscrossed pattern hidden beneath her shirt. "But-why? Those are just scars."

A chunk of the concrete wall surrounding his heart and inhibitions crumbled away. The softness of her voice and the quiet pleading reached out to him, beckoning him to let her in. Bucky's whole body and spirit responded. Deep-ingrained reflexes to push her away lessened because all Bucky wanted-all he needed-was to be closer, to turn his face into the warmth of her presence and accept the stupefying amount of support she gave freely, asking absolutely nothing in return until now. Guilt wormed its way into his stomach when he considered the smallness of her request. All Sadie wanted was the truth and, at least, in this case, that was the least he owed her.

"They're not just scars, not to me. You were hurt and I wasn't there to stop that from happening. Back then my job was to protect you and I couldn't then but I can now."

Sadie's lips rounded in soft surprise. "You want to..." he watched her throat rise and fall as she swallowed hard. "This is about me?"

Bucky shrugged. "You shouldn't have ever been in that position. You shouldn't have been in Japan in the first place."

He closed his eyes and turned away, waiting for her impending rejection or her laughter. After all, how could she take him seriously? How could Bucky, in his condition, be expected to step up and be there for her? Moreover, how could a woman so whole, so intact, with so many options at her fingertips ever accept what he offered even if it was a half-formed apology and promise that what happened to her wouldn't happen again? Even if she did accept him, he had no clue how he was supposed to go about keeping such a promise. It wasn't like he could leave Wakanda without putting himself and everyone else connected to him at risk, Sadie included. Bucky fought a grimace, internally kicking himself for giving into his private longing and opening his heart to her even just this little bit. But the rejection he anticipated never came.

Cool fingers touched his cheek opposite Sadie, gently prompting him to face her again. When Bucky dared to open his eyes he found her watching him, drinking in the details of his face. She let her touch trail to his beard, sliding up to cup his cheek. Muscle memory kicked in again and against his better judgment, Bucky leaned into her touch, desperate to soak up as much of her as he could.

"Bucky, what happened to me in Japan isn't your fault."

"But if I hadn't fallen-"

"Then who's to say something else wouldn't have happened? Your job wasn't to protect me from everything bad that might occur." The small, loving smile she offered melted Bucky inside and he moved to be closer to her without even realizing it. He was simply drawn to her, a moth to her glorious flame. "We protected each other as best as we could but at the end of the day your job was simply to love me and all that entailed."

Bucky wanted to cry.

"Sadie I-" his throat closed up.

She brushed her thumb across his cheek. "I don't want you to do this just because of me, buck sergeant. You have to want this for yourself and you have to find a way to see this arm as more than just a weapon, even if you're using it to protect me."

As she spoke, Sadie reached for his hand, curving her fingers over the hard metal. Bucky swore he felt phantom sensations, of the touch he craved and echoes of private moments they shared so long ago. And yet despite that yearning, he wanted to pull free for the fear that he would hurt her just by sheer lack of control. Sadie read the hesitation on his face and offered the almost imperceptible shake of her head.

"It's okay," she promised and opened his fingers.

Bucky felt the pressure, tripping the sensors that raced through the cables buried in his arm to the neural connections at the socket. The tips of his fingers twitched in response but didn't move too fast or too far. He held Sadie's eyes, mesmerized by the swirling grey and the complete and utter trust she displayed, unafraid in the slightest of what he could do. Sadie took his hand and pressed it to her cheek. Warmth transmitted from her skin through the hand, startling him. He'd never been able to feel the relative temperature difference before; that was a feature Shuri never explained to him. Bucky felt the pressure, the pads of the metal fingers pushing gently into her flesh. Caught up in the moment, he brushed his thumb across her cheek. The muted color of his hand contrasted with her pale skin but for the first time, he wasn't disgusted. Bucky liked the way the colors complemented one another and how her grey eyes popped, looking more silvery and beautiful than he ever recalled.

"See? Not a weapon."

The curtain between them fell. Comfortable tension reasserted itself, humming all around them and pulling him closer to her. There was something so dynamic and familiar about her that Bucky found himself craving all the time with her he could get. He couldn't explain it even if he wanted to, he just understood that he felt more like himself, or the man he wanted to be when she was around him. Sadie was magnetic and Bucky couldn't escape her pull even if he wanted to. Maybe it was that pull or instinct, maybe even the latent muscle memory Bucky blamed so often because one second they were frozen in time and the next he swept his thumb over her cheek before letting their hands float back to the table where he gathered hers up in his.

Sadie's eyes fell to their joined hands, her lips parting in soft surprise. At one time her hands were littered with calluses that she collected from her job. He could only feel the faintest roughness now but he could count the tiny white scars still dotting her skin. The way her fingers gently curled around his opened a small door within him. He remembered her touch, he remembered how easily her fingers threaded between his and the warmth of her palm pressing to his. Sitting there, holding Sadie's hands in his, Bucky felt the world spin away, twisting through time to that precious, fleeting moment in his life when he'd been able to hold her hand whenever he wanted. Sadie's touch was at once thrilling and comforting, electric and familiar and he wondered how he ever forgot how it felt when she gave him a gentle squeeze or wore a path along the back of his hand with her thumb.

They'd been still and silent for too long. Bucky cleared his throat and grappled for anything to say that wasn't a foolish declaration of his tangled, half-formed feelings.

"It's good to hear you call me buck sergeant again."

Sadie dropped her head but couldn't quite hide the heart-stopping smile that spread across her face. "Yeah, I guess some things are just reflex."

"I guess they are."

His heart stuttered when she drew her thumb over his skin, making a circle that bore a hole straight to his hardened heart. When she raised her chin they were closer than ever and the band of comfortable tension that held them in place squeezed a little tighter. Sadie's lips parted and the tip of her tongue darted out to wet them, sending Bucky over the edge, spiraling out of his self-control. He moved in close, bridging the gap just as her eyes fluttered shut.

Bucky kissed her, hesitancy coloring the lightness of his touch, feeling out her lips only to discover them willing. A long-dormant feeling burst to life in Bucky's chest, flames unfurling from the cold darkness of his heart, scaring off his old friends doubt and fear. Sadie's hands fell to the curve of his neck as she began to kiss him back, following his slow lead. He eased them into the kiss but noticed that as his lips moved easily with hers his left hand moved of its own accord to curl around the back of her neck and carefully cage her in place. At once the kiss felt brand new and achingly familiar, transporting him back to a time when he took kissing her for granted when he assumed that those fleeting touches they shared would last the rest of their lives and would always be so easy. The only way he could think of to describe the moment as they parted was sacred, a little slice of perfection tucked away between the minutes of suffering and the feeling that, if given the choice, he would do it all over again just to have this one kiss.

Sadie's eyelashes touched her cheeks and she came up slowly, holding onto each nerve ending he could until the tingling passed. When she emerged, she dropped her face to hide the dazzling smile. The swell of emotion carried Bucky away and, ignoring every single ounce of his better judgment screaming at him to stop, he kissed her again.

It was Sadie who broke the spell. Gently grasping his wrists and pulling back.

"Bucky," she whispered, her voice small and scared. "Don't take the king's offer."

That sobered Bucky faster than if she'd thrown ice water over him. He pulled back, blinking rather stupidly at her while he tried to soak up the meaning laden in her declaration.

"What?"

"Joining Wakanda's intelligence division is...it seems dangerous. You just got your feet back beneath you and going back into that life it just seems-"

"Like that's all I'm built for," he supplied, realizing too late the verbal backhand he'd served up.

"No it's not," she argued.

The reasons why he'd kept her at arm's length all this time came screaming back to the forefront of his mind. When Sadie looked at him she wasn't looking at him as he was now. She was still expecting the soldier she loved, the upstanding Brooklyn boy who spent his time breaking up fights and not starting them.

"It is now," he countered. All of the worst thoughts he'd had about Sadie bubbled up. He could see now that she still wore her rose-colored glasses where he was concerned, that a large part of her hoped that he would just snap out of it and come back to her. She wanted to believe he was more than the Winter Soldier and more than the broken mess left in his wake. Sadie wanted her Bucky back and she was willing to overlook the truth in favor of the lie.

"I just-" her chest trembled when she paused to gather herself. "Am I crazy? Or we were not just-" she pinched the bridge of her nose and Bucky could see her tremble with the deep breath she took. "You know what? Never mind. I'm sorry I even brought it up."

"Sadie, I didn't mean it like-I don't have anything else here." He rubbed his tired face. "T'Challa's offer gives me something to do."

"Something to do?" She echoed in disbelief, rapidly regaining her moral high ground. Bucky hated when she did this; he'd lived his entire life with Steve doing the exact same thing. "Please, please tell me there's more to it than that."

A nasty part of Bucky wanted to point out that his reasoning was his own and he didn't have to justify anything to her. But at this point, he sure as hell wasn't going to come out and say the truth, that he was doing it for her. He'd already made a monumental mistake letting his guard down and kissing her like some lovesick moron with no impulse control. Telling Sadie that he wanted to join so he could watch over her would just add fuel to a fire that was already threatening to rage out of control. Besides, telling her the truth and having her rebuff him again would only confirm what he didn't want to face: that she didn't actually need him.

His defenses returned in full force, hardening his heart.

"You don't know me anymore, Sadie. And you can't just come in and tell me what I should do. It doesn't work like that anymore."

She reeled backward, sliding out of her seat to put needed distance between them. Bucky felt the sting of immediate regret and wished in an instant he could stuff the words back down his throat and swallow them whole. Judging from her round eyes and the way her hands trembled when she went to cover her mouth, he may as well have outright slapped her across the face. Without another word she turned on heel and left, passing quietly down the hall.

He didn't even hear her shut her door.

X X X

The morning dawned gloriously, bathing the balcony of Bucky's quarters with golden light that warmed his cheeks. Another sleepless night left him lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and feeling stifled by four walls that seemed to him to come in closer and closer. Clean air filled his lungs, easing his headache and giving him a few moments of peace before the rest of the world caught up with him. Moments like this were perhaps his favorite thing about living in Wakanda. When he was on the run he never had time to savor his freedom. He'd never had the time to look up to enjoy the sunrise when he was always looking over his shoulder, almost as terrified of the phantoms chasing him as he was of his own long shadow. But in Wakanda, he could ease the iron grip he kept on his faculties and relax enough even to turn his back on the door to the common area of his living area so he could watch the rainbow sky wash out into the most vivid blue he'd ever seen.

For just a little while he was alone in the universe. Shuri didn't need him for more tests. Ayo wasn't searching him out for more training exercises. T'Challa wasn't expecting him to answer his offer to join Wakanda's intelligence. And as for Sadie? Well, for just a few minutes he could pretend like he didn't owe her a groveling apology for his atrocious behavior the night before. He could also pretend like she wasn't leaving the safety of Wakanda's borders to sashay off to Vienna where she would finally face the music. Bucky could also pretend like he hadn't been reliving their kiss over and over again, each time crashing right back into the trainwreck of their fight.

He heard the tell-tale click of a pair of high heels before he felt the presence behind him.

"It's hard to imagine a prettier sight."

When Bucky turned around he had to bite his tongue to openly disagree with Sadie. She wore her shining hair in a knot at the nape of her neck, showing off the simple gold necklace she wore. From the top of her head down the length of her royal blue sheath dress, down to her blue high heels, she was a tall drink of water and he felt like a man wandering the desert. He fumbled to get up, raking a hand through his haphazard hair, painfully aware that he looked like a slob in drawstring pants and a wrinkled t-shirt.

"You're leaving?"

She glanced over her shoulder to where her suitcases sat by the doors. "In just a few minutes. I wanted to talk to you before I left though."

His stomach clenched. "Sadie, I-" he swallowed hard, unsure of how to even articulate his regret. "About last night. I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "You don't have to apologize, Bucky. You were right."

Sadie could have knocked him off the balcony with a feather. Though he didn't expect her to berate him for his earlier behavior, he didn't think she was going to the complete opposite. Her red lips pulled into a sad smile at the sight of his open confusion, brows furrowing and shoulders tensing.

"We're not together anymore so my opinion on how you live your life is completely irrelevant," she explained and drew further onto the balcony. She sank into the chair next to his with unpracticed grace, folding one ankle neatly behind the other. The ease of her actions contradicted the hard punch she'd just packed, walloping Bucky without even realizing what she'd done. Worse than that, he knew exactly where she'd gotten this particular idea. Hadn't he insinuated this very fact only the night before? She folded her hands in her lap and stared intently at them, each finger capped in a manicured, pale pink nail. "I crossed a line I shouldn't have and for that I'm sorry. The truth is that I don't know how to do this-how to separate then from now. I don't know how to be okay with the fact that half the time when you look at me it's like you're looking at a stranger."

The corners of her eyes scrunched up and Bucky hated that she wouldn't even look at him as she struggled to keep her lower lip from trembling. She didn't finish her thought but Bucky heard it loud and clear all the same.

"Sadie, it's not like that," he started to interrupt and then stopped when she held up a hand in a silent plea to stop and let her finish.

"I know that things are different for you now. And it's not good or bad, it just is what it is. You've been through so much and this situation is so difficult. But you're giving me whiplash, Bucky," she said and raised her chin to meet his eye. "I don't think you mean to but you are."

"I don't," he agreed. His heart sank like a stone. "But you're right. I'm sorry I've been jerking you around. It's hard to be around you sometimes."

"I've started to figure that out," she admitted with a sigh. "When I decided to come here it wasn't with any intention or agenda. Everyone that I love is gone except for you and Steve. I'm not asking for anything from you Bucky except to treat me with consistency. We were in love once but now you're not and I understand that truly I do."

Bucky couldn't figure out if he hated the bow of her shoulders in the face of defeat or the hollowness of her voice more. Though he knew for certain he absolutely hated that she was right. He wanted to be in love with her but he wouldn't-couldn't let himself go there. Allowing himself to fall again meant dragging her back into his world and exposing her to even more danger. He'd done that once and the consequences were still rolling in one on top of the other. Bucky would be further damned before he put Sadie in harm's way again, no matter how attracted he was to her and how desperately he wanted to fold her into him. It hurt, even more, hearing her confirm what he'd suspected all along, that she was still deeply in love with him.

"How can I fix this?" He asked, forcefully pushing aside the part of him that wanted to fall on his knees and beg her for a second chance.

Sadie shrugged. "Yesterday was such a perfect day and then you kissed me and I thought-but our romance is in the past. We were together and now we're not and I think, for my sake, it needs to stay that way. We were friends first. I think I can do that again if you think you can too."

In the end what choice did he have? Sadie was right that this constant back and forth was unfair to her and she deserved better. Bucky couldn't keep waffling between his inner demons and angels, not when she got caught in the crossfire. A voice in the back of his mind was yelling at him to say no, that Sadie didn't want this any more than he did, and the only reason she was offering it was because he'd done such a terrible job telegraphing his intentions. Telling Sadie he could be just her friend was akin to putting the final nail in the coffin and burying it for good.

But he'd hurt her so much already and if this was what she truly needed to go forward with her life then who was he to deny her that? He owed her so much more than just giving in on this request, no matter how much it hurt.

Slowly he nodded, doing his best to swallow the bile that threatened to come up with his reply. "Yeah, I can do that."

"Good," she said, her voice taking on a crisp edge that he'd only heard her use with patients and acquaintances. Rising to her feet, she stuck out her hand, determined to agree on the whole thing. "Friends it is."

Bucky stared at her outstretched hand. The balcony dissolved and the world seemed to spin on its axis back in time to a shabby army tent. Sadie stood before him, the morning he departed for London right after they'd given in to their mutual desire and lit the spark that ignited their romance. Nervous and caught under Evelyn's hawkish eye, Sadie traded a goodbye kiss for an awkward handshake that Bucky found simultaneously endearing and insulting. It remained, to the present day, one of his favorite memories of Sadie, a rare moment where she stumbled and let her insecurities show. It didn't escape him that once again they stood on the precipice of goodbye, albeit for a much shorter separation. That same voice in the back of his head urging him to say no now urged him to grasp her hand and pull her into him, to thoroughly kiss her goodbye, and leave her breathless and anticipating more for every second she was away.

Instead, he humored her, shaking her hand once with a weak smile.

Movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Nakia had let herself into their common space.

"I've got to go. I'll see you when I get back."

Loathe as he was to let her go, he loosened his grip and let her slip free. Her grey eyes were much slower to leave him and he swore he saw a flash of regret. Somehow Bucky knew they would both live to regret this decision, though he had no idea how. She made for Nakia but paused in the doorway when he called back to her.

"Be careful. The world's...not like it used to be."

Though he knew he was being irrational, Bucky felt suddenly consumed with the fear that he would never see her again. Sadie graced him with one more distant smile. "I will. Don't let Shuri push you around too much. See you in a few days."

And then she was gone, leaving behind nothing but silence and the weight of regret that threatened to flatten Bucky where he stood.

X X X

If Shuri was hell bent and determined to get Bucky to master his new prosthetic it was nothing compared to her drive to get Sadie to figure out her powers. According to the resident genius, the possible practical applications were mind-boggling. Dozens of questions now swirled around the green light that could emit from Sadie's skin. Did it only apply to physical wounds? Could she use her powers to find and eradicate disease? What about cancer? Were her powers limited to humans? How did her connection work? Did she radiate anything harmful when she tapped into her power?

There were so many unknowns that even Shuri momentarily appeared overwhelmed and took fastidious notes while she made Sadie recount every single detail of the event from the moment she cut her hand to everything that happened after. No detail was too small - did she dream when she was asleep, what happened when she woke up, was she thirsty, was she hungry, how much did she drink and what did she eat to feel better? Sadie answered all of Shuri's questions as best as she could, artfully dancing around all of the parts that involved Bucky. Giving Shuri any ammunition regarding their uncomfortable situation was just begging for trouble and Sadie would have rather died and let Shuri dissect her than describe in detail their conversation or the way she shivered when Bucky touched her scars. When all was said and done, however, Bucky was the least of Sadie's concerns when it came to her uncharted powers; there were bigger fish to fry than her torrid feelings about her ex-fiance.

Both women recognized the biggest problem facing them when it came to testing Sadie's enhancements: there was no way to truly test her healing abilities without injured test subjects. The ethical quagmire had thus far stumped both of them. No precedent for this kind of testing existed. The closest Shuri had were Wanda Maximoff's accounts of her time spent in HYDRA's custody but she'd mostly learned how to wield her powers on her own, spurred on by her one-time hatred for the Avengers and, in particular, Tony Stark. But Wanda didn't specialize in healing the injured and not even Shuri could round up a bunch of test subjects and slice them open just for Sadie to heal.

"Well, then we'll start at the beginning," Sadie suggested over Shuri's laments that there was no reliable, ethical way to even take Sadie's green glow out for a test drive. "The times I've used these powers I wasn't even really conscious of what I was doing. Maybe the first step is to simply learn how to purposely conjure it."

Shuri had sat up then, rubbing her chin in thought. "That could work. Once you figure out how to access and can reliably use your enhancement then it will be easier to test the power itself."

And so Shuri gave Sadie homework. To spend time looking inward, doing whatever it took to try and find the source of her enhancements. In moments of quiet and downtime, Sadie found herself trying to settle in and still her body so she could turn her attention to the inner workings of her mind, to try and look beyond the clutter and the missing memories to find any wisp of green she could.

The flight to Vienna was the first time Sadie found in the past several days to even try. She'd been so consumed with trip details and then with trying to help Bucky that she'd put herself on the back burner entirely. But the jet was spacious enough and quiet enough that Sadie thought it was worth trying.

"Is it like meditating?" Nakia asked even as Sadie sat perfectly still with her eyes closed.

"I've never meditated before so I really couldn't say."

Sadie heard Nakia shift her weight - the rustle of her pants and the clink of the bracelets on her wrist. Her companion let loose a soft sigh. Nakia was just like her in the way that Sadie could never sit still. Even now her fingers twitched, wanting to pull her necklace free so she could toy with the trinkets there. A frown tugged at her lips. Laden with meaning, the rings and charm hardly brought much comfort these days. Each one was nothing more than a path back to memories she wished she could put away, back to a life she knew she had to leave behind, back to Bucky.

Bucky.

Her mind was boundless in its ability to find ways back to him over and over again, even when she was trying to do something that had absolutely nothing to do with him. But that wasn't entirely true, a nasty voice in the back of her head reminded her. After all, whether she and Bucky remembered it or not, the acquisition of her powers probably had everything to do with him.

Sadie gritted her teeth together. In her lap, her fingers drew into fists. Wrestling her mind out of his vice grip took extraordinary control but eventually, she pushed Bucky back into the dark corner where he needed to go, along with all of her frayed emotions and the bitter regret that tainted just about everything now. Even with Bucky sidelined, her mind remained a mess. How could she chip away her fears and insecurities and even her frustration to get to the heart of the matter?

That gave her pause.

What if she was looking in the wrong place? For the past several days she spent rooting around in her head searching for the answer but what if the answer wasn't cerebral? After all, she'd not really been thinking with her head the times she conjured her powers. Exhaling slowly, she focused on the sound of her breathing until the background noise became nothing more than a murmur. Following the rise and fall of her shoulders and chest, Sadie drew her attention lower and deeper, slipping down with each breath until she traded the soft whoosh for the steady beat of her heart.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

The rhythm held steady, allowing her to sink into it, tapping into the rush of her blood, and there it was! Green light wove and undulated everywhere she looked, lighting her up within. Illuminated by a thousand shades of green, Sadie watched the stop-start pulse of her blood as it poured through the valves separating the chambers of her heart. From the chambers, it spilled into her aorta and she followed it up the brachiocephalic trunk, slipping beneath her collar bone.

"The subclavian artery," she whispered more to herself than anyone else. Downward she followed her arteries that split off into minor arteries and capillaries, spiderwebs that spanned over and in between her muscles. Sadie made out the vivid emerald digital arteries in her fingers, holding her hand aloft and turning it to and fro to watch wisps of the green light leap from her skin.

"Whoa!"

Nakia jumped back in surprise. T'Challa and Okoye both turned away from the jet's windows, looking back into the open cargo space.

Slowly, Sadie opened her eyes but she wasn't nearly as surprised as her companions. Tilting her head to the side, she moved her fingers and turned her hand to allow the formless green light to gather in her palm, watching as tender shoots slid down to wind about her narrow wrist.

"I'll be damned," she whispered.

T'Challa retreated from the cockpit to her side. Sadie looked to the young king only to see beyond his sharp high-collared suit jacket and austere demeanor. Amidst all of the green variations that comprised his head and face, spots of rust gathered above his eyebrows, spreading like miasma towards his temples.

"You have a headache, your majesty?" She enquired.

She could see the muscles in T'Challa's face contract and his eyebrow rise. "I do."

Slowly she raised her hand, she could practically feel the untapped power in her desperate to leap off her skin onto T'Challa just to ease the pain. "May I?" The corner of her mouth rose. "In the name of science, of course."

"Of course," he replied, waving down Okoye before she could even protest.

Taking care not to move too fast, Sadie raised her fingers and let the tips just barely hover off his temples. Just the tiniest push was all it took and a wisp of light swirled off her fingers and sank into his skin. Sadie urged it to sweep the pain away and the rust receded until none remained. Blinking hard, Sadie pulled back and the world came back into sharp focus and T'Challa into full, vibrant color. He touched his temple as if he almost didn't believe what he'd just experienced.

"That is-" slowly a smile spread across his face. "Miss Reid, that is quite a gift."

For the first time since learning of her so-called enhancements, Sadie was inclined to agree with T'Challa. Far from falling sideways in a dead faint, she felt oddly exhilarated, as if she'd sprinted a mile or, even better, come off a wild shift in a packed field hospital. The rush hummed in her veins and didn't subside even twenty minutes later when Okoye announced they were approaching their stop. T'Challa beckoned her to the windows where she could see out.

"Where are we?"

"Just outside of Munich," T'Challa replied. "We have to pick up a few passengers."

Sadie vaguely registered T'Challa's answer but it was utterly lost on her. One of IHAP's first worksites was in Munich. The city she remembered was still in ruins. Whole buildings remained nothing more than piles of rubble and dirt and debris seemed to get everywhere no matter how often Sadie and her staff cleaned. The Munich she remembered was a conflicted place, filled with stout, enduring German civilians, soldiers who were lucky to make it home, and the ruinous consequences of war.

That was not the Munich before her now. Old and new architecture nestled together, bearing the familiar sight of the bright colored roofs, the church steeples that stretched from between sleek office buildings that lined the winding roads. The war was decades removed from the city and it seemed to have flourished in the intervening decades, a magnificent blending of the past and present that twisted Sadie's heart. If Munich was so magnificently rebuilt was all of Europe this way?

"I don't believe it," she whispered, absolutely awestruck by the beauty of it all.

"You should," Nakia said, patting her shoulder. "You helped rebuild it."

"And we will improve it," T'Challa added with Nakia's approving nod.

Sadie wiped a couple of stray tears from beneath her eyes. Desperate to keep her emotions in check she rewound to T'Challa's earlier statement.

"You said something about additional passengers, your majesty?"

"Extra security, if you will," he explained as Okoye guided the jet over an industrial area. "The last time we convened in Vienna for the Accords-"

His father had died.

"I have asked for some outside help in ensuring our gathering will be safe."

The jet touched down to earth so smoothly, Sadie almost didn't feel it. Moments later the back opened and a familiar figure strode up the ramp.

"Your Majesty," Steve's broad grin was an even more wonderful sight than rebuilt post-war Europe.

"Captain," T'Challa took the hand Steve offered and the men clapped each other's shoulders. "Thank you for coming."

"It's the least we could do." Steve glanced over his shoulder to his three companions.

Sadie recognized Wanda Maximoff and Sam Wilson. She didn't immediately recognize the redhead at Sam's side, a striking woman who exuded the kind of cool confidence that Sadie almost instantly envied. While Steve and T'Challa exchanged pleasantries, Sadie drifted to Sam who tipped his chin up in greeting.

"Sadie, I don't think you've met Natasha Romanoff."

Sadie found herself face-to-face with the famed Black Widow, a name she'd read over and over again in Steve's dossier and heard about from almost everyone she met. Natasha held out a hand and when Sadie took it she almost gasped in surprise.

"Nice to meet you," she said though Sadie got the distinct impression that she wasn't being totally honest. Natasha had one of the firmest, most unyielding grips Sadie had ever encountered. She didn't know if that was just a byproduct of her personality or some sort of natural intimidation tactic and Sadie didn't want to find out. "It's nice to meet one of Steve's friends that doesn't need a walker."

"Nat," Steve warned.

Natasha's lips twisted into a wry grin. "What? I'm just saying, some of your friends are really-"

"Old? Like me? Hilarious."

"Ignore them," Sam muttered to Sadie under his breath.

"We all do," Wanda added and Sadie grinned despite her nerves.

Sadie didn't mind in the slightest. She was just happy for more familiar faces and having Steve around abated some of her growing nerves. Facing down legions of the press and a thousand strangers felt slightly less daunting even if he couldn't even be at her side. They sat together as Okoye turned the jet towards Vienna. Swallowing hard, she thought with longing for the relative safety and quiet of Wakanda but knew that this was for the best.

"It'll be fine," he counseled her.

"Yeah," she murmured, trying not to think about how much she wished she and Bucky were on better terms and that he was there with them.

"It's just like ripping off the band-aid. The faster you do it the faster it'll all be over."

Just like ripping off a band-aid she repeated to herself and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach.

If only it would be that easy.

A/N: Next chapter picks up in Vienna! I don't know when I'll update but I can say I've started the chapter!

Loved it? Liked it? So frustrated with Sadie and Bucky playing chicken you almost wish I hadn't updated? I would love to know any and all of your thoughts! Much love - Kappa.