After Thanos' final defeat and the restoration of life in the universe, there was still a lot of damage to be cleaned up and accounted for. But in time, despite hardships and setbacks, the world was able to get back on its feet once more.

The people of Wakanda were ecstatic at the return of not only many of its citizens, but of the royal family as well. Though he was still fairly young and inexperienced, T'Challa had proved himself an invaluable leader when it came to healing his land and his people, and making sure that the rest of the world would benefit from Wakanda's help. Outreach programs were extended to people displaced by the Snap, as well as several community centers, schools, and housing projects.

Shortly after his return, T'Challa finally worked up the courage to propose to Nakia (much to Shuri's delight), and soon after they were wed. Nakia was then made Queen-consort, and not long after bore a son, Azari (much to Ramonda's delight), who was now second-in-line to his father's throne.

For fifteen years, Wakanda flourished as it never had before, which its citizens would never have believed possible even after thousands of years of technological advancement. It seemed that the young prince, forced to become king after the death of his father, made perhaps a better king than T'Chaka ever was. The people looked to T'Challa with hope, knowing that as long as he was king, they would be safe, prosperous, and happy.

For fifteen years, this was true.

Then came the diagnosis.

Not even the best of Wakanda's medical technology could do anything. It was embedded, deep inside. It seemed as if the heart-shaped herb, of which now there was no more of, had a negative effect when in the human body for too long.

T'Challa never removed the power from his system. N'Jadaka had destroyed the last of it, and with it died the power of the Black Panther, save for T'Challa. He considered it his duty to carry the power for his people. And carry it he did, and used it to protect his kingdom and the lives of innocents around the world.

After years of fighting his illness, the King of Wakanda was surrounded by his loved ones as he spent his last days in their company. They begged and pleaded with him not to go, saying that they did not know what to do without his guidance and his love. T'Challa only smiled at them all, telling them he had lived a rich and fulfilling life, and that now it was his time to reach out to Bast and Sekhmet, just as his father had before him.

Before he drew his last breath, he looked upon his wife and son, and spoke to them.

"Death is not the end."

Bucky Barnes stood in front of the mirror, fixing his black tie in place. His movements, like his left arm, were robotic. Methodical. Nearly dispassionate as his hands moved together in deliberate motions. But Bucky's mind was elsewhere in that moment as he was getting ready.

After finishing with his tie, he leaned against the bathroom sink and held his head down for a moment.

He had enough experience with death to not really be fazed by it anymore, but this... this one had a special kind of hurt attached to it.

Steve had passed away peacefully years ago. Bucky had grieved, but was comforted that he had lived a long and fulfilling life. That alone was able to give Bucky peace for the loss of the man he considered a brother.

But T'Challa had not lived a long life. An eventful and prosperous one, yes, but the man was only forty-three when he passed. His son was not yet a man and now had to bear that burden of loss.

Bucky's own lamenting was interrupted by a young child's voice that said, "But mama, why can't I wear the red dress? I love red."

"Sweetie, we've been over this," said an adult woman's voice in an English accent, at a halfway point between mere exhaustion and actual frustration, "At things like these, you have to wear black. It's polite."

"I don't understand," the child spoke again, "Black makes me sad. Do you want me to be sad?"

"Of course not!" the woman said again, "It's just... we're all a little sad today. The black is supposed to show people that we're in mourning. Everyone will be wearing it."

"Okay..." the girl sounded like she was pouting.

"Hey," the woman said again, "chin up, okay? Later on if you're not feeling too tired, we'll watch a Disney movie together. How's that sound?"

"Mama, I love you!" the girl said again.

"That's my girl," the woman said again, "I love you too, Catie."

Bucky smiled. Nothing brought him more joy than his wife and daughter, even on a day like this.

He slipped on his jacket and exited the bathroom, and walked out to see Ava was doing the last finishing touches on Catie's dress.

It wasn't long after Tony Stark's funeral that Scott Lang introduced him to Ava Starr. He didn't think much of her other than as a friend at first, but once they got to know each other's stories of having their lives robbed from them by HYDRA they became closer. They dated for around a year before deciding to get married, and by then Ava's "molecular condition" had finally been cured.

Bucky had been both terrified and ecstatic when she told him she was pregnant. He was even more terrified and more ecstatic on the day their daughter was born, and Catherine Barnes (named after her maternal grandmother) became the center of their universe. She inherited her mother's eyes and loved reading and soccer. Every night before he went to bed, Bucky would thank the powers that be for both Ava and Catie, wondering what he did to deserve this kind of life.

And every night, he would thank everyone in Wakanda for their help in giving him his life back.

That is what made today even more painful.

"Right," Ava said with a smile, finishing with her daughter's dress, "There you go."

"Thanks, mama," Catie said, smiling back.

Ava turned her head towards Bucky and said, "Everything good?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah. Everything's good," Bucky said, "I'll go get the car started."

"Daddy," Catie began, "you wanna watch a Disney movie with me and mama later?"

Bucky smiled faintly, and said, "I'll bring the popcorn."

Catie smiled again, but when Bucky turned away his smile fell.

They exited the hotel room they were in and made their way to the rental car, entering it and making their way to the service.

Despite spending a couple of years within Wakandan borders, Bucky was still unfamiliar with how a service was conducted. He was surprised to find many elements of it were similar to what he knew of them in the United States, and not surprised to see Wakanda's own flair and culture being presented.

The place they performed the service was an amphitheater called their "Necropolis," where all previous Black Panthers had been buried alongside each other. T'Challa's body lay still inside a vibranium coffin, garbed in white cloth. On either side stood two of the Dora Milaje, while the rest formed a circle within the ampitheather. The place was filled to the brim with people, and beyond the borders of it people from both Wakanda and all over the world gathered for miles and miles to pay their respects to the king.

There were a number of holy men, statesmen, and elders that performed the service, mostly in Xhosa of which Bucky knew only a few words. There were songs and ritualistic dances of which those attending held silence. A high priest made a special prayer to Bast asking to watch over T'Challa in the green veld, ensuring he would be in the company of past kings and queens of Wakanda.

Speeches were made, some from international statesmen and some from past Avengers, but all eyes were upon Queen Shuri, who asked everyone not to wallow in grief and sorrow over the loss of a great king, but to look upon his life's achievements and recognize the impact his legacy had on not just Wakanda, but the world over.

When the Queen finished, the Dora Milaje put the lid atop of the vibranium coffin. Shuri was then the first to place her hand upon it, then removed it when she was done paying her respects to her brother.

Next was Ramonda, tears falling for her lost son, now going to join his father with Bast and Sekhmet. Following her was Nakia, her black veil not disguising her anguish, nor her dress disguising her swollen belly. That child would now have to grow up without ever meeting their father.

Azari was next to pay his respects, only a teenager but with so much weighing upon his shoulders. Shuri was queen, yes, but being of T'Challa's blood meant now he had to deal with his father's legacy and preserve his name and his honor.

Okoye paid her respects next as head of Dora Milaje, and following her was M'Baku and the heads of the other tribes. The elders came and paid tribute, and now it was everyone else's turn.

Bucky saw Scott and Hope in the crowd, along with both Cassie and their young son, Henry. He then saw Wanda followed closely by Clint, the latter of whose family were not able to make it. Pepper and Morgan, however, were, with Strange and Wong on their heels. Behind them was Bruce, and Bucky'd have to be blind to not notice him. Sam, Rhodey, Carol, and Valkyrie followed close behind. Seeing Valkyrie made Bucky realize that neither Thor nor the Guardians were in attendance, but he wasn't even sure if they even knew what had happened. Carol had tried to find them but couldn't get in contact. In fact they hadn't heard from them in close to five years, but they certainly heard of them and their exploits.

There was still more time for them to come. Wakandan ritual dictated that the monarch would lie in state for a month before being buried alongside the past rulers, followed by another three months of mourning.

More mourners followed after, including the Parker kid and his wife, MJ. Though in fairness he wasn't really a kid anymore. Hadn't really seen him as a kid even at Leipzig. Strange and Wong also expressed their grief.

Faces he didn't recognize also came and went after placing their palms atop of the coffin. After a great deal of shuffling, it was Bucky's turn.

He rested his flesh palm against the metal, his nerves seizing from the cold of it. Vibranium was a versatile and beautiful substance, but as a coffin it felt cold and lifeless. The artificial nerves in his left arm worked like a charm, but in this moment it felt foreign, even if a great deal of his life had been spent without his real arm.

He should've died that day in 1945. Not that he wanted to, but the fall should have killed him. For years after HYDRA's collapse he wished that it had, that there would be no Winter Soldier to terrorize the world, to murder people on the behalf of thugs, to kill Howard and Maria Stark along with all his other targets. But it still happened, and Bucky was a prisoner of his own mind.

Until T'Challa finally set him free.

Bucky lifted his hand off of the coffin, having said goodbye in his own way to the noble king. Ava had not known T'Challa well herself, but she nevertheless paid her respects.

As Bucky, Ava, and Catie were ready to leave the amphitheater, Bucky craned his neck and saw Everett Ross place his hand upon the coffin, silent but with tears nearly soaking his entire face.

The same could be said for the thousands of others following in a line that stretches for miles and miles on end, ready to pay their final tribute to their king, to their hero.

To the Black Panther.

Thousands of lights lit up within the capital city, every citizen holding candles up in solemn mourning for the king. It was an almost eerie silence upon the land at first, before a rhythmic chant began in Xhosa.

Enkosi, kumkani.

Thank you, my king.

This continued for several hours until night fell. By then, Catie had fallen asleep watching Ratatouille, and Bucky and Ava decided to tuck her in bed.

"Sleep well, my darling," Ava said, placing a kiss to her forehead after wrapping the sheet around her. Bucky tucked a strand of his daughter's hair behind her ear, smiled briefly, and leaned to kiss her forehead as well.

Afterwards, Bucky and Ava went into the kitchen and pulled a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet. Ava got out two glasses while Bucky got ice from the freezer. They filled their glasses and drank in silence.

Bucky sighed after his first sip, and Ava took notice of his demeanor.

"Something's bothering you," Ava said. It wasn't a question.

"We went to a funeral," Bucky said matter-of-factly, but Ava wasn't convinced.

"It's more than that," Ava said. Again, not a question, "Talk to me."

Bucky heaved another sigh and took another sip, saying "By the time I was born, our boys were just going to the trenches of France, women didn't have the right to vote, and penicillin wouldn't be invented for another decade."

Ava did not interrupt but her expression bade he continue to explain himself.

"I've spent more years on this earth than many men, and I still have my good health," Bucky said, "There are many men better than me who will live shorter than I have."

"James..." Ava began.

"He was too young," Bucky said plainly, "He was way too young to go, especially for a king. Especially for a king of a country like this."

Bucky downed the rest of his glass.

"He should've told us. He should've told us he was sick, not have gone all these years smiling about it when he knew damn well he was dying. Then it wouldn't have been such a surprise and we could've helped," Bucky was visibly frustrated now, "He did enough good for the world, he shouldn't have had to live in suffering like he had been."

"There was nothing anyone could do," Ava said, "Shuri, the doctors... you know what Wakandan technology is capable of. This is something they couldn't have fixed."

"They could've, had he just swallowed his pride and let people help him instead of being a martyr," Bucky said bluntly.

"That's enough, James," Ava said.

"It's not like this is going to change anything, Ava," Bucky retorted, "He's gone and he's not coming back."

"So you would prefer to just be angry about it rather than remember him as he was?" Ava offered.

"I would prefer that he'd still be alive," Bucky said, heading out of the kitchen towards the living area, "Alive so that he could look after his people, so he could grow old with Nakia and see Azari become a man. Now that will never happen."

"Buck," Ava said, taking his hand in hers and guiding him towards the sofa. They sat down upon it and they looked each other in the eye.

"I would want nothing more than to see my own parents alive and well again," Ava began, "For you to have not lost your arm. For the both of us to have not gone through the pain and suffering that HYDRA put us through. But... none of us can change that."

Bucky turned away, and sighed again.

"Life is a cruel mistress," Ava told him, "The only thing we can do is count our blessings and be thankful for what we have."

"That's the thing, Av," Bucky said, still not looking at her, "I wasn't meant to have any of this. You, Catie... you two are the best things to happen in my life and it wasn't supposed to happen like this. I should've either died as a soldier or been eliminated as an assassin. But, I'm here now. All because of..."

Bucky choked up at the end, tears starting to pour out of his eyes. Ava put a hand on his face and turned his focus back towards her.

"He thought I killed his father, and he still took me in when no one else would," Bucky said, "Shuri and the scientists broke my programming, but I would never have reached that without him. I never could've met you without him. Catie would not be here without him. I owe him everything."

Bucky's sobs intensified, and he buried his head in his wife's shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him trying to provide solace.

"All he did was help people, and this is what he gets in return?" Bucky questions, but from the sound of it it isn't directed at Ava, "I never even said thank you."

Ava pulls back from the embrace, and Bucky gazes into her brillant green eyes.

"Then perhaps you should," Ava smiled lightly.

Bucky was confused at first, but only at first.

The Dora Milaje guarded the amphitheater at night, barring everyone from entrance other than members of the royal family. Bucky still made his way over. Arriving there, two of them crossed their spears when they saw Bucky approach.

"No entrance until sunrise. I am sorry," one of them spoke.

"I just wanted a moment alone is all," Bucky said, "I'll go now."

"Wait!" a voice called out just as Bucky turned his head, "Let him pass."

Bucky turned around to see it was Okoye that had spoken in his defense, approaching the entryway.

"But General," the second of the sentries spoke, "this man is an outsider. No one but the royal family may visit-"

"But this is the White Wolf," Okoye eyed them, "If he wishes to pay his respects in private, then he may do so. The Queen wishes it."

Bucky blinked in surprise, and the sentries uncrossed the spears before Okoye motioned for him to enter.

"Come," Okoye said, leading him on.

"You didn't have to do that," Bucky addressed her, "but thank you."

"It's no issue. This place will be mobbed by UN bureaucrats in no time, so now's as good a time as any," Okoye explained to him solemnly, "Besides, I wasn't kidding when I said it was the Queen's wish."

Bucky blinked again, "Shuri knows I'm here?"

"The Queen expected that you might show up, and instructed me to let you in if you requested it, which you have," Okoye said, "She considers you family, you know."

"Does she?" Bucky asked, "What do you think?"

"I am bound to obey the throne of Wakanda, as is my duty," Okoye said, before her lips curved into a smile, "... but I suppose you're not too bad."

Bucky grinned in response, before he asked, "How's your son?"

"M'Jabu is learning to become a fine warrior, thank you for asking," Okoye told him, "I would train him myself, but M'Baku wanted to take a larger responsibility for him. He's a wonderful father."

"Sounds like it," Bucky said, "I just hope I'm able to do the same for Catie, and that me and Ava make sure she has a normal life."

"I think we both know that there's no such thing as a normal life in this world anymore," Okoye said with a sigh, "But... what's the expression? 'Count your blessings?'"

"Yeah," Bucky said, remembering that's what he had heard earlier from his wife.

They stopped in front of the vibranium coffin, and Bucky took a deep breath seeing it glisten in the moonlight.

"Take all the time you need," Okoye said.

"Thank you, General," Bucky thanked her, and with that Okoye walked away to give Bucky privacy.

He was now standing before the coffin, and for a moment Bucky forgot why he was here, overwhelmed with thoughts and feelings. It was one thing to be here in a crowd with friends and strangers alike, it was another when it was only you, the departed, and the air of the night.

Bucky took another deep breath.

"Hey," Bucky began simply, "I... uh... I came to the service earlier, but I suppose you already knew that. Or maybe you don't. I don't know how this all works."

Damn it, Barnes. Just speak your mind.

"I came to say goodbye since I never got a chance to, so here it is," Bucky said before pausing, "Goodbye."

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air for a brief moment. There was more for him to say.

"A part of me was angry that you didn't let us know sooner. It was a shock to say the least when I heard... but earlier today I realized why you didn't say anything," Bucky paused.

"I think you knew that there was no solving it when you found out. So you decided to take it upon yourself to live your last years as best you could, making the world a better place and all. I don't think there's a child in this world that doesn't know about the Black Panther, nor an adult that doesn't know about King T'Challa... but even if they didn't know your name, they still know the impact you had on this world."

Bucky cleared his throat.

"All you did in your life was help people, and I know sometimes doing that has some... unintended consequences," Bucky chose his words carefully, "I remember at Stark's funeral, we all knew what the price of doing the right thing was. I think he knew it too, and yet he did what he did anyway. For all of us."

Bucky sighed, unsure at that last bit.

"Eh, maybe not so much," Bucky continued, "I mean, we all benefited, but personally I think he was thinking of his family above all else in that moment. You know, these past few years with Ava and Catie, they... they really put things in perspective. And they make you think about what you're prepared to do for it. For them."

"I'm sure you would've done the same for Nakia and Azari, and your little one to come," Bucky said, "But... now you can't. And it's not your fault either."

Bucky shuffles a few steps forward closer to the coffin.

"You didn't deserve this. You deserved to live to a ripe old age, have your hair turn gray and fall out and watch Azari's children ride rhinos through the countryside. You deserved it after how hard you fought and how much blood you shed to make this world a better place."

Bucky placed his hand atop the coffin, and the tears started back up again.

"I should've died years ago, but I'm here now. I have a wife and a daughter that I never thought would ever exist. I got to see Steve having lived a full life and at peace when his time came. This was only possible because you took me in, gave me a new home and gave me control of my life again. You had no reason to trust me, and you did it anyway out of the goodness of your heart and your compassion for others."

Bucky patted the coffin, and a single tear fell upon it.

"I swear, with every breath in my body, that I will never let any harm come to your family or your people. I owe you my very soul, and I intend to make sure your memory lasts in this world evermore."

He then leaned in close to the coffin to the point where he could feel the warmth of his breath against it.

"Thank you."

Bucky then took his hand off the coffin and stepped back, wiping the tears from his face. He hoped that, wherever T'Challa was, that Steve would be able to greet him and show him the way. Whether that was in the arms of God or of Bast made no difference to him.

Bucky turned and walked away, and as he did so he uttered a single phrase:

"Enkosi, kumkani."

"It is my earnest hope, and indeed the hope of all mankind, that from this solemn occasion a better world shall emerge out of the blood and carnage of the past - a world founded upon faith and understanding - a world dedicated to the dignity of man and the fulfillment of his most cherished wish - for freedom, tolerance, and justice."

- Douglas MacArthur, 2 September 1945