Author's Note: Marvel owns what it owns, and I own what I own, let's keep it that way, shall we? Don't Sue me! This is the sequel to 'What it means to Disappear' and is Part III of IV of my "Find Your Way Home" Series. So if you're confused, that's why.
TW: allergic reaction, anaphylaxis, almost death (off-screen/only mentioned)
Recommended Listening: Enamorada de Ti by Selena; I Won't Say (I'm in Love) by Susan Egan; Just What I Needed by the Car; Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol; (I Just) Died in Your Arms Tonight by Cutting Crew
Chapter 45: Aloe Day Dreams and Unintended Side Effects
Steve had come and gone, and things for Maggie and Bucky had gone back to normal. Well, as normal as things could possibly be between them. They'd fallen back into a routine of sorts, lunch on Tuesdays, and occasional movie nights when they could be spared from their other commitments: Bucky with his Bao and poetry, Maggie with her spinning and weaving circle, and weekly potluck. She'd also been working out with some of the Dora who'd invited her along on their morning runs, and although she could hardly keep up, she enjoyed the companionship. Of course, she couldn't speak for Bucky, but Maggie felt that her life was full and busy and that their sabbatical had given them a chance to grow their social networks in a healthy and mindful way.
So why did she miss him?
She'd pondered that question after he'd left. She'd done her best not to miss him. There was no point in missing someone who didn't want you around, and so she'd tried to fill her life with joyous, wonderful, and productive things. She'd learned to sew, she was in the process of learning to weave, the women of the village (spearheaded by Tee) had taken her in with open arms, and she enjoyed their friendship and companionship and did all she could to be a worthy friend and companion.
Had she missed him because he was a link to Becca? To life stateside? Did she miss him because he was funny and intelligent and charming (when he wanted to be) and was as much a fish out of water here as she was?
They hadn't really talked about that month and a half where they didn't see one another. They hadn't talked about the implications of what it had meant or what it did mean for their friendship going forward.
It really didn't matter. They both wanted each other in their lives as friends.
Maggie couldn't help but think about the day and, of course, the night of Bucky's birthday party. He'd just come up from nowhere and asked to talk with her and had proclaimed that he'd made his choice and that he wanted to be her friend.
She'd, of course, acquiesced. She wanted to be his friend. She'd missed him, missed their banter and camaraderie.
Then she'd shown up and visited with Steve. He'd been wound up, stretched so thin he twanged like a guitar string. Yet, the moment that Bucky had shown up, all of that had melted away, and Steve had noticeably relaxed. Bucky, too, his expression normally creased with care and worry even during their best and happiest exchanges, was bright and twisted in a grin. He'd been so relaxed and had laughed and smiled with astonishing ease.
Part of that she knew was due to Steve. Another part of that, Maggie reasoned, was the therapy, which seemed to be genuinely helping (though she knew that progress there was always slow).
Regardless of its origin, Maggie had seen a transformation in Bucky. A bright light shone from him and his expression, which resembled the picture that Becca had woven in her words and that Steve had quite literally sketched in his letters home. Her mind was drawn back to the girlish crush she'd developed while listening to Becca talk about her older brother. The walks through the park, the drinks at the soda fountain, the kiss on a rainy fire escape.
Now you're being stupid.
Maggie shook her head, focusing back on the pattern she was weaving in her blanket.
"You making any progress on that, Ramirez?"
She jumped, startled, and looked behind her to see none other than Bucky Barnes standing there watching her. "What the fuck, Barnes? How long have you been standing there?" She laughed, throwing her hand dramatically over her heart.
"Just walked up. How long have you been sitting in front of that loom? All afternoon?"
"Yeah. Something like that."
"Show me your progress."
"All right. All right. Come here." She pat beside her on the mat she was sitting on, motioning for him to join her.
He sunk beside her and looked studiously at the loom frame and then at the shuttle she was fiddling with before leveling his steady gaze on her. "All right, Maggie. Talk me through it."
Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, and she nodded, swallowing hard before she started her instruction. He watched with keen interest, nodding along as she explained the different techniques and methods for working the loom.
"So, how far have you gotten today?" He asked once she'd finished her explanation.
"A good three or four inches. I'd wager." She answered.
"Well, it's looking good." He paused. "How's your Wakandan?"
"Still worse than my weaving." Maggie laughed.
"I'm sure it's not that bad." Bucky smiled before slowly and carefully saying a sentence in Wakandan.
Maggie frowned, furrowing her brow. "Repeat that, please?" She managed in response, her pronunciation shabby.
He repeated the phrase, reaching into his satchel as he did.
Maggie shook her head. "I really, really don't know." She admitted, a flush rising on her cheeks.
"Here." He pulled a lump of something wrapped in cloth out of his satchel and extended it to her.
"What is it?" Maggie asked, hesitantly reaching out to take it.
"Goat cheese. From my small little herd." Bucky explained. "And for the record, I asked, 'would you like some goat cheese.' Just for future reference."
"If you write it out for me, maybe, maybe, I'll remember it." Maggie chuckled, inspecting the lump of cheese, turning it over in her hands. "But thank you. I look forward to cooking with it. It'll be tasty." She paused, glancing up at him. "Is that why you're up here at this time of day?"
"It is." He nodded.
"Well, let me run this inside. If you'd like, you can take a turn at the loom. You can't be any worse at it than I am." She laughed as she rose.
"I think you're doing a fine job." He answered, running his fingers over the woven length of the pattern she'd completed, his bright eyes shining as they inspected her work. What he was thinking, she couldn't tell, but there was the tiniest hint of a smile that curved the corner of his mouth. Maggie also couldn't help but notice he was wearing the scarf she'd made him.
He'd been wearing it almost every time they saw one another. Whether that was by design or simply happenstance, it hadn't gone unnoticed.
"I appreciate it." She stammered out before rushing inside her dwelling.
You need to calm down. She mentally scolded herself as she carefully unwrapped the waxed cloth to inspect the soft lump of goat cheese.
Pinching off a taste, she nibbled it experimentally before sticking the rest in the cold box.
"It's good." She announced as she emerged back out into the hot afternoon. "Did you make it yourself?"
"I did. You inspired me."
"Me?" She echoed.
"Yeah. With you doing all of the textile crafts. It made me wonder what I could do to work with my hands." He paused, glancing up at her, cracking a wry smile. "So to speak."
"Well, it's delicious. You didn't walk all this way just for that, though, did you?"
"No. I was going to give some to Jelani and Teela as well." He paused, looking up from the loom to where she stood by the hut's entrance. "I was wondering if you'd like to come over for dinner."
"We going to watch a movie too?"
"No. Just dinner." He replied. "I do have like twenty pounds of goat cheese to get rid of." He added with a small chuckle.
"Well, fortunately for you, I have several very excellent recipes from my Abuela that use goat cheese." She answered, watching as he rose, towering over her as they stood facing each other.
He was so tall. How had she never noticed that before?
"So. Is that a yes?" He ventured, his tone approaching near hesitance.
"Oh. Yes. Of course. Yes. I'd love to. Is there anything I should bring?"
"I have everything covered. It's been a while since I'd had you over for dinner. So I thought I'd extend the invitation."
"Will there be dancing?"
Now, why had she asked that?
Because it was an excuse for closeness and physical human contact? Because it was fun? Because it had been ages since she'd been dancing and her only willing partner was a guy straight out of 1945? Well... not quite nearly straight out of 1945. He had a bit of mileage on him now, but then again, so did she.
"What did you have in mind? Do you want another chance for me to step on your toes? Or did you want to show me your modern dance steps?"
Maggie laughed. "I could show you. if you'd like, but you won't like it."
"What? Are you afraid you're going to offend my fragile 1940s sensibilities?"
She snorted, rolling her eyes. "I'd like to think we're past that, James Barnes."
"Oh, using my full name and everything, I see." He chuckled.
It was a warm, mellow sound, the smile that accompanied it crinkled the corner of his eyes. Again butterflies fluttered in her stomach. "Well. I haven't started using the full name yet. That's when you really know you're in trouble."
"Is that what your parents did when you were in trouble? Magdalene Ignacia Ramirez?" Bucky asked. His Spanish pronunciation was perfect, down to the slightest roll of the "r" in her last name.
"No. decidedly not." Maggie winced at how clipped her voice sounded. It's not his fault. He doesn't know. She reminded herself.
There was a brief pause as Bucky read the terrain. "So, what are you gonna show me, Maggie?" He asked brightly after a moment.
"You really wanna see my outdated hip-hop dance moves?" She asked wryly.
"Can't be anymore outdated than my Lindy hop."
"True. You just promise you won't laugh at me."
"Hand over heart. I swear." He said, touching his hand to his chest, his expression so earnest that she smiled to put him at ease.
"Okay. Now, mind you, this was back when I was like middle school." Maggie said, doing her best to keep from blushing at the mere thought of all of the stupid things she'd done as a middle schooler, never mind things that she'd thought were cool. But hey, live and learn, and anyway, it wouldn't be any more humiliating than being taught to dance by the Wakandans. At the very least, Bucky had a limited frame of reference for what actually constituted good hip-hop dancing.
"You swear you won't laugh." Maggie repeated, glancing up at him as she cued up Selena's 'Enamorada De Ti.'
"Yes, I swear," He repeated, with the faintest tinge of a smile.
"I don't believe you, but I appreciate it." She answered, quickly hitting play before she could lose her nerve completely.
The music started, and the muscle memory kicked in. Her footwork was sloppy. That wasn't surprising. Back when she and her cousins had spent hours in front of the TV screen, rewinding her mother's VHS tape of Selena's L.A. Broadway performance over and over to get their moves just right, she'd never been gifted enough to keep up. She wondered vaguely what had ever happened to that worn-out VHS tape or her mother's copy of "Selena" that had been watched so many times that she'd broken the VHS player.
Maggie glanced up. Making eye contact with Bucky, she smiled. "You heard of Selena Quintanilla?"
"Some." He nodded. "Haven't had a chance to see the movie yet."
"Well, we'll have to fix that. Won't we?" Maggie laughed, exhaling breathlessly.
"I guess we will." He agreed, returning her smile.
She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could say anything, she found a patch of loose gravel.
Shifting her weight, she stepped back and back until she realized she was falling backward.
One second she was upright, and the next, she was falling backward.
Do I try to catch myself? Do I just take this as it comes? She didn't have time to ponder as she fell back and struck, not the hard ground, but something else. Something somehow worse.
"Oww. Ow. Fuck. Shitty. Shit. Shit. Shit," She cussed, a burning sensation spreading across her back and into her spine.
Oh no.
She'd landed there. That spot with the strange spiky-looking plant. Great.
"Ramirez, don't move," Bucky said gravely.
"I'm fine. It's fine." Maggie managed even as her voice pitched several octaves. Winching, she struggled up into a standing position. She wasn't about to let Bucky swoop in like a knight in shining armor. She paused, swaying on the spot. At least not yet.
"Easy. Easy." Bucky cautioned. "Let me see how bad it is." He said as he slowly walked behind her.
Maggie winced again as she heard Bucky inhale sharply. "Your silence is inspiring a sense of overwhelming calm, James Barnes."
"You have four huge spikes protruding from your back." He said slowly.
"Yeah? Can we do something about that?" She asked, doing her best to keep the barbs from her voice, considering there were four protruding from her spine.
"Let's get you inside the hut and on a flat surface so we can talk through options." He answered, coming back into view. "Can you walk?"
"Yeah. Thankfully." She nodded. Her head was spinning, as was the ground, but she focused one foot in front of the other, and she made it back to her hut under her own power.
"You'll have to excuse the mess. The first aid kit is in my satchel." Maggie mumbled as she laid out on her bed mat and listened as he moved around her. It was better than focusing on her back which stung, and burned, and she clenched her hands into fists to resist the urge to pull out the barbs herself.
"I have some medicated aloe. You can put that on the punctures once you're removed the barbs. You'll probably need to cut my shirt up the back to get it off. It's all in my pack. You can dig through it." She continued quickly, her voice practically manic.
Bucky hesitated. "Maggie, if you want me to call someone. I understand."
"I'd honestly much rather have you pull the barbs out and be done with it. I promise I'm okay. I'll let you know if you're hurting me too bad."
"Okay." He nodded, kneeling beside her on the floor. "Shirt first. Does your bra have a clasp at the back or the front?"
"It doesn't have a clasp. You'll have to cut through it too." She admitted.
"Good to know. If none of the barbs have hit your back that high, I'll avoid cutting your bra."
"Spare me that indignity at the very least." She chuckled, wincing as she adjusted.
"Can you reach back far enough to move your hair, or should I?"
"I can hold it if you put it in my hand."
Maggie paused as Bucky collected her hair in his hand and gently twisted it at the base of her neck before carefully placing it in her open palm.
"Don't want to give you an unwanted haircut." He commented as he started cutting away the shirt around the barbs.
"Much appreciated." She paused, listening to the sound of the scissors cutting through the fabric of her shirt. "Well, this is a role reversal for the books," Maggie murmured.
"Yeah, I guess it is."
There was a long pause as he continued to work. "Thank you, Bucky."
"Don't thank me yet, doll." He said, sighing heavily as he set the scissors down.
"How bad is it?"
"There are only four, but they're going to hurt like a mother fucker when I pull them out."
"I understand." She answered, managing to stifle a giggle.
"What?"
"I appreciate your very technical use of the term mother-fucker. It's reassuring." She answered.
Mercifully he didn't say anything, more focused on the task before them. "So, do you want me to count off, or do you want me just to pull?"
"Just- FUCK. Jesus shit fuck fuck shit shit shitty fuck." Her voice filled up the small space and likely extended out into the yard before she fell silent, drawing in a quick, sharp breath.
"That's one," Bucky said dryly. "Here. Take this." He said, extending one of her thick leather belts to her. "Bite down on it, so you don't bite through your tongue. I want to work as quickly as possible so I don't prolong this any more than necessary. Okay?"
"Okay." She said, taking the belt, folded it in half, and stuck the edge in her mouth.
"Ready?"
Maggie nodded, biting down hard on the belt. She squeezed her eyes shut and tensed, waiting for the pain. Bucky worked quickly, and each of the barbs came out with a firm and fast tug.
Maggie whimpered between her teeth but otherwise remained silent and immobile. Finally, when the last one came out, she exhaled, spitting out the belt, practically panting as she gasped for air.
"You did good," Bucky soothed, setting each of the spikes aside. "How do you feel?"
"Still hurts like a mother fucker, and it burns." She whined.
"Right. Would you like me to spread some of the medicated aloe on your back?"
"If you think it would help." She said, wiping away tears that streamed down her face with the back of her hand.
"I do."
"All right, anything that'll help." She said, her eyes watering and slipping down her cheeks.
Listening as he opened the jar and adjusted his position over her, she could hear him hesitate as he leaned over her.
"What? What is it?"
"Nothing." He answered. "Working out the plan of approach. I'm going to start between your shoulder blades and work outward. Your skin looks pretty inflamed after all of that. Does it itch?"
"Yeah."
"Well, you have broken out into hives."
"Okay. Then the aloe should help."
"Are you ready? The aloe and my hand might be a little cold." He advised. Again, there was hesitance.
"As I'll ever be, James Barnes."
"Here goes."
The aloe was cold, and it stung and burned against the damaged skin. Maggie winced, and Bucky jerked his hand back. "Sorry."
"It wasn't you." She said.
"Let me know if I need to stop."
"Absolutely. Please proceed."
He returned to his work diligently, spreading the medicated gel across her back. Maggie closed her eyes, soaking in the mixture of pleasure and pain, aware of how close he was to her. He smelled vaguely of barnyard, hay, and goats, but there was also mint, and lemon, and herbs likely from whatever it was he'd been cooking. It was overall a pleasant combination, if not a bit strange. His hand was steady as he worked, his touch firm yet cautious...careful...gentle even. She could feel the callouses on his fingers and palm, but Maggie could also feel how he tried to avoid dragging them across her inflamed skin. Bucky paused his hand, resting flat between her shoulder blades. "How does that feel?"
"Good," Maggie nodded, her breath shaking slightly. Her hands gripped the blanket under her. The aloe burned and stung while also offering a cooling relief. She didn't want him to stop. The way Bucky's thumb worked in small circles on her skin, and the soft-touch, gentle and careful, raised goosebumps on her skin.
"Is that still alright, Maggie?" He asked, his voice so soft and low it nearly rumbled.
"Yes. It uh...it feels amazing." She stammered breathlessly. Maggie could feel a blush rising on her face. You moron, keep it together. She silently scolded herself. He's just doing you a favor.
"You're so beautiful," Bucky said after a moment, his voice small when he said it.
This gave her pause. What was she supposed to say? Thank you? I know? She'd be cheeky. It was the only way she could face herself after this. "But not a dame?" She raised an eyebrow, her eyes still closed.
"I got in trouble last time I said that." He chuckled quietly.
Maggie shook her head, laughing to herself. She sighed, savoring the skin-to-skin contact. "I appreciate your restraint, James Barnes. I'm not sure I could handle that at the moment. Doll? Perhaps. Dame? Definitely not."
"I'll be sure to keep that in mind for future reference. Anything else I should be aware of?"
"No. Nothing at the moment." She winced.
Again his hand paused, this time against the small of her back by her waistband. "You okay?" He asked softly.
"Yeah. All things considered."
"Okay. You think you'll be okay if I leave you for a bit?"
"Should be."
"I'm going to let that soak in before I apply another round," He said. "I'll be back to check on you after I've delivered the rest of the goat cheese to Jelani and Teela."
"Sounds good. I'll just stay right here."
"That was the plan." Bucky leaned forward, gently planting a kiss on her neck at the base of her skull. It was no more than a peck, but Maggie could still feel his breath on her skin and the way his lips trembled. "Don't move. I'll be right back." He whispered.
Bucky moved quietly and quickly from the hut, but it was only after he left that Maggie exhaled the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She wanted to call him back, wanted to ask him not to stop, to run his fingertips over her skin and through her hair. She wanted him to plant light kisses on her neck and shoulders, and back. She wanted to be able to hold him against her and maintain that skin-to-skin contact for as long as he'd let her.
What is wrong with you? Are you seriously so starved for touch that you're going to get this fired up about it?
She exhaled, slowly easing her eyes shut. It didn't matter. It didn't matter one bit because he didn't want anything out of her like that.
He did just kiss you, and you felt comfortable enough around him to ask him to smear aloe gel all over your back.
Maggie released her grip, exhaling at the warm breeze that blew through the hut, making the gel on her back get colder. She tried not to think of Bucky's hand and how warm and gentle it had been on her back as she slowly drifted to sleep.
Bucky walked out into the yard, silently cursing himself. Why had he done that? It didn't make any sense. Why did he just kiss her? Why had he done that?
It was only a peck on the back of her neck.
And she'd been lying there, half-naked, while he'd spread medicated goo on her back. That was presumptuous and uncalled for, and stupid. Very stupid.
Their relationship, their friendship, wasn't like that. She didn't think of him like that. They were just friends, and they'd just gotten back to being friends, and then he'd had to go and ruin it.
Bucky shook his head and started up the hill, his brain still muddled. He didn't have to figure this out now. He'd deliver the cheese to Jelani and Teela, and go check on her, confirm dinner. Then maybe, just maybe, they might have a chance to at dinner to settle some things. Perhaps he'd even express his feelings?
Feelings? Which ones? He felt them. All of them, it seemed like.
How exactly they'd arrived here, or rather how he'd arrived here with these feelings, he didn't know.
Had it started back when she'd arrived here in Wakanda? Somewhere between their walk through the fairgrounds during the festival and when they'd laid side by side at the planetarium while she'd talked through the different constellations?
Or had it somehow started even earlier than that? When he'd stumbled into her barn back on Last Chance?
Perhaps it had been in the thousands of little moments they'd experienced together that made him want more.
What exactly more meant, and if Maggie felt the same way, he didn't know. Particularly after what had happened back in February. Sure, she'd agreed to be his friend, but he could imagine that she would guard her feelings (whatever they may be) from him because of it.
And anyway. She was beautiful and intelligent and witty and kind. What could she possibly see in the husk of what remained of James Barnes? That was, of course, before considering all that she knew about his life since 1945 and all she'd endured because of him since 2014. By that calculation alone, the numbers were definitely not in his favor.
He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of beating hooves, and he lept back and out of the path as a pair of horses barreled past him.
"Heyi! White Wolf!"
He stopped and glanced back. Jelani was on one of the horses and was trotting back toward him. "Jelani." Bucky nodded.
"Did you just leave Magdalen's house?"
"Yes."
"Come quickly. We need to know everything."
What happened? What's going on? He almost said it but stopped himself. He wouldn't waste valuable time. "She fell on a spike plant with barbs. Had four of them stuck in her back. I removed them and spread some medicated aloe gel on her back." Bucky explained quickly.
"Could you show me which plant?"
"Yes."
"Come with me." Jelani extended his hand, which Bucky took, and found himself hauled bodily onto the back of the horse behind Jelani. "Hold on with your legs and onto me with your arm." He instructed shortly before nudging the horse into a trot.
Bucky winced but held on. He could've run the distance, but Jelani had been so adamant and grave, Bucky knew he couldn't have refused, even if he wanted to. If time was of the essence, he wasn't going to waste it by arguing.
When they arrived back at Maggie's dwelling, Bucky jumped from the horse and charged to the offending plant's spot. "This one." He said, pointing at it with his index finger.
"That one?" Jelani echoed.
"Yes."
"You're sure."
"Yes."
"Positive?"
"Beyond a doubt."
Wordlessly Jelani removed a knife and hacked away a large chunk of the plant. Then, spearing it with the point of the blade, he rose and walked to the hut. He called out to his wife before entering, leaving Bucky alone in the yard outside.
Should he stay until Jelani and Teela were done? Did they need him? Should he boil water or collect supplies of some kind? Or would they rather he go away and leave them to their work, rather than standing around like a useless appendage? He didn't know and instead paced the length of the yard a few times as he struggled to catch what was being said inside the hut.
Their voices weren't panicked. Urgent, yes, but there was nothing in them to suggest that things were going wrong. Or rather, any worse than they already were.
If anyone can help her, it's going to be those two.
How had they known something was wrong? What exactly was the nature of her condition? What had the plant done to her that hadn't been evident when he'd been with her only moments before?
Bucky played and replayed the whole interaction over and over in his head, trying to identify the moment he'd gone wrong, the moment that had caused this situation. Whatever it might be, specifically. It all came back to the moment he started pulling out the barbs. That's when she'd started breaking out into hives. Now, why had he done that?
Namely, because she'd asked him to. Because he'd wanted to help her. Because it seemed like such a necessary and easy thing he could do for her in the current situation.
Of course, this has nothing to do with seeing her half-naked and rubbing medicated goo on her back. The sarcastic, mean little voice in the back of his head chimed in.
Had his desire for closeness and physical intimacy with her put her in mortal danger?
In his mind, that's what it was sounding and looking like.
Bucky, you fucking idiot. You should've made her call someone. YOU should've called someone—you stupid useless idiot man.
He stopped in his pacing, squeezing the bridge of his nose. It didn't matter. There wasn't anything he could do for her now but sit, and wait, and hope for the best.
Bucky turned to the loom situated just outside the door, half a mind to sit and work at it, as she'd been doing when he'd shown up, less than an hour ago. She'd looked so calm and at ease, even with her brow furrowed with concentration as she'd explained the process to him.
Shaking his head, Bucky continued his pacing.
"Calm down, White Wolf, before we have to resuscitate you as well," Jelani announced as he emerged into the sunshine.
Resuscitate as well? His stomach twisted. "How-" Bucky began before Jelani raised a hand to silence him.
"She's going to be fine. But, the plant she fell on is tremendously toxic, and the barb only releases its toxin when it's removed as you did. I'd advise you to take more care." Jelani said gravely. "This is something that Wakandan children are taught from an early age, which is why I failed to give you and Cowgirl the same stern lesson. The plant's meat is useful for medicinal purposes, which is why it is not irradiated on sight, but you must be wary of the barbs. In the future, call my wife or me before removing potentially toxic barbs. Ewe?"
"Ewe." Bucky nodded, feeling like a child being reprimanded by the schoolmaster.
"Ms. Ramirez is going to be fine and will suffer no ill side effects after she sweats out the remains of the poison." Jelani clapped him on the back. "Come, let us make some tea while we wait for my wife to finish up. Shouldn't be too much longer, just cleaning and dressing the puncture sites." Without another word, Jelani moved past him.
Stoking up the fire, he prepared a bitter herbal brew for them, which they both sipped in silence as they waited.
Then, after what felt like an eternity, Teela emerged from the hut. Bucky sprung to his feet, opening his mouth. He stopped, however, as Jelani exchanged a glance with his wife. "She's fine. Resting now. She's going to be asleep for a bit while her body sweats out the toxins. Can you stay with her for the afternoon? I have some other obligations. She is not in any danger, but I would not want her left alone after all of that."
"Yes. Of course." Bucky nodded.
"Call me if anything changes. And make sure she drinks plenty of water whenever she does wake." Teela paused, crossing the yard, extended her wrist to him.
He tapped it with his own, and the kimoyo bracelet buzzed with the transfer of data. "Anything else I need to know? Is she in any pain?"
"No. I've given her something for the pain. She will likely be groggy. Be patient with her."
"Of course."
"You're a good man, James Barnes," Teela said, patting him gently on the shoulder.
Bucky had nothing to say and watched as they meandered around the yard. Teela took Maggie's shovel, scooped out the offending plant out of its spot into a pot, and, tucking it under her arm, nodded amicably.
All of this for a lump of cheese. "Oh!" He called out, removing the carefully wrapped parcel from his bag and rushing after the duo.
"Yes? White Wolf? Something else?" They turned to him, and he could feel the heat of a blush rising on his face.
"Goat cheese. I made it. Thought you might enjoy some." He stammered out.
"Thank you, White Wolf. That is very generous of you." Teela nodded graciously as she took it from him and slipped it in her satchel. "Take care of Cowgirl, Ewe? I'll be back to check on her in a bit."
The duo returned up the hill by foot, leading their horses along the path side by side, leaving Bucky once again standing alone in the yard.
Taking a couple of deep breaths, he slowly pulled back the curtain of the hut and peered inside.
The hut was dimly lit, except for the light streaming in from where he stood. Maggie was laid out on her mat still, now on her side. He noted how her chest rose and fell in long slow draws under the gauzy shirt that Teela had pulled over her head. A blanket was draped over her prone form.
Beads of sweat glistened on her forehead, the hair at her temples and around her hairline already matted and slick. Yet otherwise, she didn't appear to be in any pain. Instead, her expression was smooth and peaceful as she lay there resting.
"You're back already?" She mumbled.
Bucky froze. She hadn't moved, hadn't even opened her eyes. Was she supposed to be awake already? Teela said she was supposed to be sleeping. Should he call Teela back? Was something wrong?
No. Teela said Maggie would be groggy. Take a breath, Barnes, it's okay.
"I told you I would be." He answered, his voiced hushed as he stepped into the hut, crouching slightly so his head didn't bump the ceiling.
"You should come to bed before you have to leave again." She reached up, her hand blindly searching for him.
Bucky reached his hand out to take her's in his but stopped as the realization hit him. She's not talking to me.
"Riley?" She mumbled. "Riley, aren't you coming to bed?"
Fuck.
He felt as though someone had just punched him in the stomach, knocking the air from his lungs.
Was she dreaming or hallucinating? It didn't matter. She didn't know it was him. She thought he was someone else. She thought he was her husband. Her dead husband.
What was he supposed to do? She thought he was someone he wasn't. He couldn't climb into bed with her, despite her insistence. Should he correct her? Break the spell and bring her back to reality?
No.
The world had been cruel and unkind to her enough already. Never mind the type of day that she'd had to begin with. If she thought he was Riley, he would let her believe that for now. Because who wouldn't want to be surrounded by someone they trusted and loved? Particularly when it was someone she knew would take care of her.
"Hmmm?" She slurred. Her eyes still shut, a confused crease had formed on her forehead, between her knit brows.
"I can't come to bed quite yet. I have some things to take care of." He answered as he took her searching hand. It clasped around his, squeezing tightly, as if afraid if she let go, she might lose him. Bucky's stomach twinged at the thought, and he gently lowered her hand to her side before slipping his hand from her grasp. "Rest easy, Doll. I'll take care of you while you sleep." Bucky added. Grabbing up a towel, he dabbed away some of the sweat on her forehead, smoothing the creases and cares that marked her feverish features. "You're going to be all right." He soothed.
Maggie nodded, the tension in her expression easing, and she drifted back into a quiet slumber.
Bucky exhaled, glancing around the small space. Maggie's space. It had been a while since they'd watched a movie at her place, and so seeing the inside of her hut in daylight, never mind at all, was a new experience.
She hadn't brought much with her from Juarez. Yet around the hut had been shaped around her, and everything was very uniquely Magdalene Ramirez. Everything was tidy and well ordered. She had some smaller weaving projects she'd finished hanging on the walls. Her clothes were folded and packed away in a small basket. Her two pairs of shoes, which consisted of a pair of work boots, and a pair of leather sandals, were lined up neatly next to the basket. Another smaller basket was stacked on top and contained brightly colored scarves and accessories that flowed over the side. There were pots and pans and cooking supplies in another corner tucked away with a hot plate and a micro icebox. She'd even set up an ofrenda out of a small wooden table. She's set up pictures of her family, clients, and Riley. There was even a photograph of her and Becca, which sat a little distance away, included in the Ofrenda, but only just. Nestled amongst the pictures and mementos was the Lady of Guadalupe statue that had graced her other Ofrenda, back on Last Chance. Her porcelain finished was chipped, and the paint was cracking and falling away, but her expression remained grave as it watched over Maggie's dwelling. Wrapped around the statue's clasped hands were a rosary and a chain with a dog tag attached.
Something in his chest tightened, constricting his lungs a moment, knotting his throat. He didn't belong in here, in this space, uninvited, with her. It felt wrong that he was occupying this space with her, in this way, without her expressed consent. Particularly when she was unwell, and especially since she thought he was someone else.
He rose and crossed the small space, sitting against the wall opposite her, watching as she drifted off into a world that Bucky hoped was happier, kinder, and all-around more pleasant than the one he currently occupied.
And to think he'd been contemplating telling her how he felt less than an hour before. He'd kissed her and called her beautiful, and they'd been planning on having dinner. Now he wasn't sure if he could, or even if he should, in the given circumstances. He wasn't Riley Underdahl. He could never be Riley Underdahl.
Did Maggie want anything out of him? Could she ever want anything of him? Bucky didn't know.
Adjusting against the wall, he removed his journal from his satchel and turned to an empty page. Gripping the pen, he stared down at the blank page and started to write. Whatever he thought, whatever he felt, it didn't matter. Not until Maggie was back on her feet and herself again. He would just have to wait until an opportunity arose, and for now, it seemed he had nothing but time.
Everything hurt: her skin, her scalp, her teeth, her fingernails. Everything hurt.
The walls of her hut came swimming into view, and Maggie stayed as still as she could manage as she tried to piece together exactly where she was and exactly how she'd gotten there.
She remembered she'd been weaving. Then, of course, Bucky had shown up. There was some goofing around. She'd tripped. Spiky plant. He'd removed the barbs and spread medicated goo on her back. Then he'd left, and she'd fallen asleep. So why did she feel like her head was in a vice, and why was everything spinning?
Maggie closed her eyes, straining to remember. She'd had a conversation with someone.
Riley. Her brain kept filling in. You had a conversation with Riley.
But that wasn't right. She knew that wasn't right. Yet her brain kept supplying her with that conclusion.
Unless.
Maggie stopped at the sound of someone else in the hut. Opening her eyes, she saw none other than James Barnes, sitting against the wall, eyes closed, head rolling in the telltale sign of nodding off.
Oh no. Oh, no, no-no-no.
Fuck.
What the hell happened?
She didn't know, but she had the sinking suspicion that she had held a conversation with someone that she'd thought was Riley and that the most likely candidate was the super soldier dozing a few feet away.
Fuck.
Slowly lifting herself into a sitting position, Maggie hissed through her teeth as her body protested.
"Hey. Hey, take it easy." Bucky's voice washed over her, and she looked up to find that while he'd been fast asleep only moments before, he was now awake and alert, his eyes bright and attentive as he assessed the situation. "You're sleeping off some serious stuff, doll."
Maggie focused in on his expression, trying to read it through the blurry haze that enveloped her. He didn't look upset or put out. The fact that he was here at all was indicative that, at the very least, she hadn't said anything too unforgivable.
'Sleeping off some serious stuff.' Now that was a clue about what had happened but didn't give her much to go on.
So in the face of a massive full-body headache and little to go on, Maggie proceeded with the unoriginal. "What happened?" She croaked, her voice dry and crackling.
"Spiky plant was poisonous, you went into anaphylactic shock, and Teela and Jelani had to come to resuscitate you and administer an antidote. So you've been sweating out the poison residuals for about the last six hours." He explained slowly as he poured water into a cup before extending it to her.
Well, that was certainly one hell of an explanation. Though what was of more interest to Maggie was that while his tone was casual, each of his movements was deliberate and intentional, as if his brain had to command each of them one by one.
"Thank you." She murmured as she took the cup from him with both hands and took a long draw.
So. She'd been incapacitated by her own clumsiness. It wasn't entirely unheard of, though this was one for the record books as far as the sheer amount of damage inflicted on her and everyone in a fifteen-mile radius, it seemed. Yet, it still didn't explain why Bucky was still here.
"Are you hungry at all?" Bucky asked. His was tone gentle, but all business, with no hint of the tenderness in his voice that had been there only hours before.
"I wouldn't want to put you to any trouble."
"Teela came by about two hours ago to check on you. She brought some food from your weaving group. They wish you a speedy recovery," He explained.
So the whole village knew. How long would it take for word to get to the Royal Family and then to Sam? It didn't bear thinking about, never mind, when her head was pounding like this as it was. "That was very kind of them." Maggie managed, taking another sip from her cup, still trying to quench her parched throat and buy herself a bit more time to get her bearings.
The world still felt like it was spinning. Bucky remained silent, sitting cross-legged only a few feet away, his eyes down, fingers pulling at a frayed patch on his pants.
She should say something. Anything. Just so she could fill the silence that filled the hut and threatened to consume her alive. "Thank you for staying with me. I appreciate it tremendously. I am sorry for fucking up your other plans for the day." Maggie mumbled after a moment. It was the best she could come up with.
Bucky nodded, looking up at her to meet her gaze. "I figured it would be pretty rude of me to stand up my dinner date when they're feeling unwell." He cracked a small, hesitant smile.
"Very courteous of you, Bucky Barnes." She returned the smile. "I wouldn't mind a little something to eat. Provided you eat with me. Eating alone is terrible when you're not feeling well."
"Agreed." He rose cautiously, ducking so he didn't hit his head. "I've left it warming on the coals outside. I'll be right back."
Maggie nodded, and he disappeared a moment before returning with the meal container carefully held with a dishrag.
"Don't. You're okay. I got you." His voice wasn't harsh, but the force that he spoke with surprised Maggie. It was strong, commanding, reassuring.
Had he used this voice before on someone else? Steve? Natasha? The number of others that had likely been before life had taken him on a different route.
Maggie sat quietly, watching as he laid out and served the food that had been brought. It was a chicken stew, a Wakandan chicken noodle soup equivalent with fresh vegetables, a grain, and hearty broth.
"Not quite your green chili stew. But it'll certainly do in a pinch." Bucky commented as he passed her a bowl. "Would you like more water?"
"Yeah. Sure. Please. Thank you." She managed, blinking slowly, still feeling groggy and off-balance.
She still couldn't get a good read on Bucky. Had she called him Riley? God, the very thought made her wanna die. What must he think?
Maggie wanted to ask, but how, exactly, she didn't know. It wasn't an easy subject to broach, and she couldn't exactly imagine a scenario where that would be a painless and easy conversation. Opening with, 'hey, did I accidentally think you were my dead husband while I was delirious from a plant poison I almost died from? Sorry. He's been dead almost six years. You'd think I'd be over it by now, don't you think?' It didn't seem like it would be productive.
Did it bother him? Or could he not care less?
It wasn't the kind of conversation she wanted to have, not right now when her head was pounding. She also wasn't sure if she was still sweating out the toxins from the plant or if the pounding of her heart was the thought of how Bucky's hand had felt on the small of her back or the way his lips had quivered on her neck.
Oh, God.
She hoped the floor opened and swallowed her whole. Certainly, he had to feel something toward her other than casual friendship? Otherwise, he wouldn't have done that, right? So the logical next question was, had she blown her chance by calling him Riley? That certainly could be a wet blanket on any sort of romantic feelings if the person you're interested in still isn't over their last relationship.
Certainly, he'd understand that this isn't just an ex. This is an entirely different circumstance. Right?
"You okay there?'
"Huh?" She looked up and realized her spoon had slipped from her hand and dropped back into the bowl mid-journey between the bowl and her mouth. "I...uhh..." Maggie could feel tears welling just behind her eyes, mounting pressure until she was sure her head was going to explode if she didn't let at least some of them escape. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm, I think I should. I mean. I think I need to drink a bit more water and go back to sleep." She stopped as she felt hot tears start to slip down her cheeks. "Fuck. Sorry." She sniffled, wiping at them with her hand.
"You've had one hell of a day, Maggie. Give me your bowl. I can fill up your water cup and clean up dinner and put it away for you so you can get some rest." He said, extending his hand across the space to her. He took her bowl without waiting for a response, likewise filling her cup before she could manage to string together words.
"You're leaving?" Her voice was so soft and almost a squeak that Maggie wouldn't have been surprised if Bucky hadn't heard her at all.
A surge of icy, raw terror raced up her spine and choked her lungs at the very thought of being left alone. She wasn't sure if it was because she was feeling crappy, because she'd slipped into anaphylaxis the last time she'd been left alone, or that she was feeling that vulnerable, but the idea of being alone made her want to crawl out of her skin.
"Do you want me to stay?" He asked, his voice so delicate that Maggie was sure she could have broken the sound if she'd shouted out YES!
Instead, she nodded before wiping again at the tears that slipped down her cheeks.
Why are you being so stupid?
"I don't want to put you out any more than I already have." She mumbled, staring down into her glass.
"Someone has to make sure you actually rest rather than get out of bed and try to do something stupid." He answered with a small chuckle.
"Stupider than falling on a poisonous spiky plant?" She supplied.
"To that, we're both the guilty parties. I'm sorry that you're the one suffering because of it." Bucky replied as he finished packing away dinner. He situated himself back down on the floor beside her. "Try to drink some more water before you go back to sleep. Your body needs to hydrate."
Maggie nodded obligingly and drained her cup, and she could feel as the water settled like a rock in her mostly empty stomach. Her limbs suddenly felt heavy, and her eyelids began to droop.
She wanted to fight it, wanted to hold off sleep just a little bit longer, but it was a losing battle. "You'll stay until morning, right, Bucky?"
"Of course, doll, if that's what you want me to do."
Maggie bobbed her head up and down, feeling like more a sick child rather than an only somewhat poisoned, fully grown adult. If Bucky minded, his expression didn't say, and for that, Maggie was tremendously grateful.
"Com'on, you're fading fast. Let's get you back to bed and comfortable so you can rest and your body can heal."
Too exhausted at this point to argue, she handed him the cup before adjusting her cushion and the blanket that had been wrapped around her and settled back onto a position she could conceivably sleep in.
Maggie froze at the sound of Bucky adjusting position, and she glanced over at him. "You promise you won't leave?"
"I promise I won't leave." He answered in a tone that Maggie found both reassuring and soothing.
Closing her eyes and settling under the blanket, she heard Bucky move around her, gently pulling the blanket up and over her shoulders and smoothing it over her arm. "Thank you, Bucky Barnes." She mumbled.
"Of course, Maggie. Let me know if you need anything. I'll be right here."
Maggie wanted him to climb under the blanket with her, wanted to be held, wanted to have him stroke her hair and whisper in soothing, warm, reassuring tones that she wasn't a moron, that she hadn't completely screwed up, that things were, in fact, going to be okay. But she couldn't ask that of him, not right now. Eventually, perhaps, but now wasn't the time nor place to make such a request.
Instead, Maggie settled further into the blanket until the edges were around her ears and focused on her breathing, doing her best not to think of the man, sitting only a few feet away, watching her as she slowly slipped back into the inky void of restless slumber.
I hope you all enjoyed!
A Quick Note about the chapter: Jelani and Teela were alerted through Maggie's Kimoyo bracelet that she'd gone into anaphylactic shock. The bracelet issued an epi-pen type injection to keep her stabilized and then called Tee and Jelani, and they then administered aid. (I didn't think that info would really make or break the chapter, but to avoid too many questions or too much confusion, that's my thoughts on that!)
