The days that passed after Q woke up from her cryogenic nap were weirdly peaceful. It had been a long time since she was allowed to just sit and enjoy the sunshine. Before, there had always been something going on: Steve, the Avengers, her search for Bucky, a funeral in London, the chaos that happened in Berlin, and then what happened in South Korea. If she had had the time to sit and enjoy the sunshine, there was something lingering just under the surface: like in Croatia with Steve when she hadn't yet told him about Bucky. She hadn't gotten a chance to just breathe in over three years. Until she woke up in Wakanda. Where there was nothing holding her back or anything on the horizon.
Like T'Challa had told her, there was a small cottage nestled deep in one of the valleys outside the city. The valley they lived in provided a lot and T'Challa was happy to provide whatever else it was that they needed. Like the countryside home big enough for both her and Bucky to share. There were a few stray goats, a little garden that needed upkeep, and the children from the Amari village had visited multiple times just to check in on the White Wolf and his friend.
The two relatives relied on a routine, which they established within the first day at the cottage. Not that there was much to be doing around the cottage except continuing to heal and learning to live again. Still a routine, no matter how menial it was, grounded both of them.
Each morning, the sun woke Bucky up first. The morning light spilled over the mountains as it rose to bathe everything in its warmth. He took the quiet moment to himself to run through what he knew. Where he was, who he was with, what he was doing. Remind himself that he was in control. No one else. It was a habit that had been ingrained into him once he left Hydra. Once he started to regain himself back again.
Q would start to wake up when she heard Bucky moving through the kitchen area. Being a light sleeper didn't have anything to do with it; anyone would wake up from hearing Bucky accidentally bang a couple pans together or knock into the counter with something. All in an effort of learning how to live with one arm. Though it took two days for her to remember that it was Bucky, and not someone from Hydra or somewhere else. They were safe. No one had figured out where they were.
Most of the citizens of Wakanda didn't even know Bucky and Q were still in the country. There wasn't a national announcement or anything like that. Part of the reason they were staying in the secluded countryside was so that not everyone found out. There was no need for word to get around that the king had decided to harbor an international, American fugitive and his CIA niece because he felt sorry for them. The only ones who knew were T'Challa, Shuri, some of the King's Guard, and the children from the Amari village who were growing on both of them rather quickly.
Thankfully, Bucky didn't mind having to do most of the cooking. Though it became sort of a team effort between the two what with Bucky learning how to do everything one-handed. Even though Shuri had created a new prosthetic for him, he refused to take it. For as long as he could remember, the metal arm symbolized nothing but the tragedy he went through, what he did in the name of Hydra, and what he had become. The irony of it was, he remembered a time where he refused to use the prosthetic until that small act of rebellion was forced out of him. If he was going to heal from it all, he couldn't have any lingering reminders - no matter where the arm was coming from. He wasn't fighting anymore. He was just trying to live.
So Q helped where she could: cracking eggs or terribly chopping fruit or whatever else prep-wise. Food prep aside, she quite literally lent a hand with whatever he needed from her as he got used to living with one arm. Whether it be getting dressed, making his bed, hanging up laundry or cleaning up after the day. They made a good team.
Their days were filled with light farm work. As much as Q wanted to complain about the manual labor she was doing or the lack of foods she liked, she knew she shouldn't. T'Challa was nice enough to let them stay, she could do a few chores here and there. She was an adult after all. Plus, she had found a soft spot for one of the baby goats that she affectionately named Chad.
When they weren't working, they talked here and there about life: past, present and future. With his brain finally healing from the past trauma, a lot more memories started to come back. He was able to recall moments that he thought were long forgotten. Stories about Rebecca and Steve were mostly what Q wanted to hear about, and he was more than happy to tell them to her. Much better than reliving all the terrible things he had done as the Winter Soldier. There was no reason to relive those days.
She told him about the rest of their family - especially since he had semi-come in contact with Molly in Berlin. Learning about Q was one thing, but discovering that there was still a whole family left for him was a little overwhelming. He wasn't sure if he'd be ready to meet them all, or if they would want to meet him. Q was enough for now.
Mostly, they were enjoying the moments. Sitting under the starry night sky with a fire going. Bucky with his coffee, Q with her blanket. Neither one of them feeling the need to say anything to fill the silence. Finally comfortable in their own heads.
"Still haven't made up your mind yet, huh?" Bucky spoke across the small campfire that separated the two of them. At his question, she looked up from the piece of paper she had been glancing at every now and then since it arrived at the cottage.
"No," she sighed heavily while refolding the paper. A note from T'Challa that reminded her about the trip to the United Nations. The one she had been invited to attend with T'Challa so to use it to get back to her life. Or whatever a studio apartment in a foreign country with no friends or contact with them was. Not much of a life if you asked her. "They're leaving tomorrow afternoon." she added, but she was pretty sure Bucky already knew.
"Doesn't leave you a lot of time to make a decision." he tilted his head forward while his brow furrowed a bit in concern. Slumping down a bit in her chair, she pulled her blanket up to her chin again.
"No." she agreed rather dejectedly. A beat passed, punctuated with sharp cracks from the fire in front of them. The air was cool otherwise and the skies were clear. Giving them a perfect view of the starry night sky. Something she would miss if she were to leave.
"Have you made one of your pro-con lists yet?" The tone of his voice and slight raise of his eyebrows made it clear that he was genuinely asking her.
"Yes." A bit offended he would even doubt that she hadn't made one yet, she slightly narrowed her eyes at him. She had made one as soon as she read the note the first time. Still, he put his hand up in defense.
"Alright, sorry." he widened his eyes a bit, "You can still see the floor in the cottage, so I was just making sure." he teased and she stuck her tongue out at him in response. Smirking a bit, he sipped at his coffee, while she continued to burrow down in her blankets. He let them sit in silence for a bit before clearing his throat, "Okay, pros." he prompted with a gesture of his coffee mug at her. She stared at him for a moment before sighing heavily.
"Pros: I can make money again, there's food I actually like, don't have to do manual labor," she began to tick off on her fingers. His lips quirked up at her pros, but he let her continue, "internet access." she finished. He considered the pros with a nod, then switched sides.
"Okay, now cons." he nodded at her to start, which she did.
"Having to keep up the act that I don't know where Steve or you or Dawson or anyone is, working for the CIA and Ross," she paused for a moment with two fingers in the air, "leaving you." she finished rather quietly. Surprisingly, his heart clenched at the thought that she didn't want to leave him. A reminder that she actually cared about him and wasn't just there to be there.
"What? Think I can't get by on my own?" he shook off the surprise, instead provoking her a bit. She scoffed, rolling her head back as she did.
"Please," she fixed him a look, "For a supposed super soldier ex-assassin, you manage to make quite the mess." The proof was in the pudding - which ironically had been splattered across the cabinets and walls. Some of it even got in his hair and on her clothes. He wasn't instantly good at living with one arm. There was still a learning curve.
"You're forgetting I only have one arm." he waved his right hand in the air to make a point. Rolling her eyes, she didn't let him off the hook,
"And yet you should still be able to figure something out." she volleyed back with a pointed look. He let out an amused scoff, but let it go. While she had helped him more than she needed to, he didn't want her to feel like she had to stick around for him. He could get by just fine on his own. He had before.
"I really want a life like this." If he hadn't had his enhanced hearing, he doubted he'd be able to hear what she said at all, but he did. When her eyes met his, he gave her a sympathetic smile before joking,
"What? Taking care of an old man with one arm?" he perked an eyebrow and she scoffed. If she had any doubts about them being related, the past several days were chock full of moments that proved otherwise. Like when he tried not to get sappy with her; taking the joke route instead of going for the deep conversation.
"Let it go." There was only so many times he could play that card after all. Her smile faltered for a moment as she continued, "You know what I mean." her fingers were idly tracing the pattern of the blanket, "The simple life. No world devastating threats on the horizon. No shields or metal arms or sticky people. Just a nice house in the middle of nowhere. Just me and..." she trailed off, not filling in the blank for a moment. She didn't have to; both of them knew she meant Steve, "someone I love." she finished with a sigh. "Maybe a dog. I don't know." she lifted her hand and then let it drop to her lap.
After everything that had happened, she was ready to let it all go. Over the past few years, she had had her fill of adventures. No longer did she feel the need to fix people or get involved where she didn't need to be. The simple life sounded like a dream. A big part of her knew that Steve wasn't at the point where he could enjoy it with her; he couldn't just sit by and watch as things happened. Not yet at least. Forcing him to would just make it worse and end up in resentment. Which was the last thing she wanted, and a big reason why she let him go on his adventures. So that he could find his way back to her. Just as she had with him.
"You can, Q." Bucky encouraged her with a strong smile, "I just don't think it's here." he gestured around himself, indicating Wakanda. She agreed with him on that.
As much as she wished she wasn't the type of person who needed more than the basics of life; she was. Wakanda was advanced in many ways, but she missed the comforts of the life she was used to.
"You should go home, Q." he said after a moment, his gaze focused on the dying fire in front of them, "Go home and start to work toward that life." she didn't respond with a comeback or at all, causing him to look over at her.
"What about you?" she picked at the edge of her blanket, uncertainty lacing her tone. Letting her question hang in the air for a moment, he took another sip of his coffee. The future was unknown for the both of them, but they had to start heading in the direction of it.
"Wakanda is the safest place for me right now." What was left unsaid, the explanation, weighed heavy in the air. Not only so he could heal, but because of what he was when he arrived in Wakanda. A wanted terrorist. For over seventy years of murder and destruction. He wasn't sure a jury would go for the whole "being brainwashed by Hydra" thing.
Understanding what he was saying, Q gave him a small smile, then nodded slowly. She looked back down at her blanket. There were still two other cons she had to consider, but the biggest one - the most important one, was telling her to go. Wakanda had served its purpose for Q; given her a chance to reset and recover. Something she had desperately needed - not realizing it until she woke up and started to heal again. Without anything getting in the way or holding her back.
After relaying her decision to T'Challa, she spent the next morning getting ready to accompany the Wakandans on their trip to the United Nations. Tidying up turned into an almost rearrangement of the cottage; just so Bucky would have easier access to various things. Considering she didn't have much in Wakanda, there wasn't much for her to pack but the necessities.
T'Challa had sent a vehicle similar to the truck that transported them to the palace from the Amari village. Not wanting to be late, Q made sure she was ready to go as soon as the vehicle rolled to a stop by the cottage. Bucky helped her load the one bag she had into the back - showing off a bit too and reminding her that he was going to be fine without her.
"So," she crossed her arms over her chest while facing Bucky. A bit unsure what to say next, she let it hang in the air. She had never been good at goodbyes; evident from the way she left Steve all those years prior and how they had left things a month before.
"This is a good thing, Q." he assured her with a slight nod. A nervous smile flicked over her features for a brief moment before she nodded in agreement.
"No, yeah," she let out a breath, looking off into the distance, "this is good. I gotta go. I'd get bored here." she admitted matter of factly, gaining an amused scoff from Bucky.
"And you can always come visit." he reminded her with a pointed look. One that told her it was more of an order rather than a loose request. She smiled fully then with relief; knowing that he wanted her around was always a nice feeling.
"Will do." she promised before moving to bring him in for a tight hug. He relaxed into it, hugging him back just as tightly for a moment. "I can't be away from Chad for too long." she joked while pulling away and glancing over to where a couple of the baby goats were meandering around the area. Bucky grinned, always being humored by the human name she had given to the animal.
"We'll be here whenever you can visit." he assured her with a smile, "Thank you for sticking around, Q." he told her sincerely. She gifted him with an easy smile.
"Of course," she tossed her waves over her shoulder, "What is it again? With you till the end of the line?" The familiar phrase made his heart thrum. A warmth spread across his sternum - something that usually happened whenever he heard the words that had been shared between him and Steve for so long. A reminder, a promise. Something that saved him time and time again.
"Something like that." he agreed while the corners of his lips quirked up. The two shared a smile for a moment more before Bucky reached to give her another hug. Then murmuring, "I know Becca would be proud of you." At the mention of her grandmother, Q's throat began to tighten with emotion. She wasn't sure how true it was, but it was nice to hear.
"Thank you." she managed out thickly.
Finally pulling away, and giving each other one last goodbye, Q climbed into the back of the vehicle. Just like last time there was no driver, but it seemed to know where to go. Bucky and the small cottage were left behind in the valley.
Welcomed back to the palace with warm smiles, Q boarded a jet similar to the one T'Challa had picked her and the others up in from the Raft. Nakia and the woman in red - who Q was finally introduced to, and another woman of the Kings' Guard were accompanying T'Challa as well.
"I see you have made your decision." the king pointed out warmly while the jet smoothly ascended into the air.
"I have." she agreed with a slight smile, "Thank you for your hospitality, T'Challa. I'm in your debt." he waved her off, seemingly unconcerned with any sort of repayment.
"There will be no need for that, Q." he assured her with an easy smile. She returned it with a small smile of her own, silently making a promise that she would. It wasn't every day a king not only saved someone, but then allowed them to recover in their own country - despite the threat they might bring.
Although part of the United Nations building in Vienna was closed after the attack that happened a month and a half prior, the meeting of countries was still being held in a different wing of the building. Not wanting to cramp their style, Q walked behind the group of Wakandans - definitely noticing how Nakia and T'Challa held hands the entire walk through the lobby.
Once they got closer to the conference room, she separated from them. There was no need for her to be up at the podium with T'Challa as he gave his speech. She was fine watching from the back of the room along with the other officials.
Flashing her visitors' badge to one of the security guards at the door, she stepped into the room. Representatives from every country sat in an elevated half circle that surrounded the floor. Journalists, cameras, and United Nations workers had filled the other seats. The room was filled with hushed conversations about what was displayed on the screens around the room: Wakanda's infosheet. A lot of people were curious as to what the king of a supposed third world country could possibly have to say.
"Proctor." The sound of her name got her to look over and watch as Ross settled into the seat next to her. They hadn't seen each other since South Korea, after he took a bullet for Nakia. "Glad to see you're finally awake." he glanced over to her with a quick smile. While the buzzing in her brain had long since gone away, she didn't need it to know that he knew about her cryo nap. She had hoped she'd get a couple more days at least. A chance to figure out what she was going to say.
"Glad to see you're walking." she fired back, unsure whether to be on the defense or the offense. He kept eye contact with her for a moment before nodding and facing front. Neither one of them said anything else on the matter; T'Challa had stepped up to the mic.
"My name is King T'Challa…" Cameras immediately started to flash as soon as he spoke, but a hush still fell over the room, "son of King T'Chaka. I am the sovereign ruler of the nation of Wakanda. And for the first time in our history we will be sharing our knowledge and resources with the outside world. Wakanda will no longer watch from the shadows. We cannot. We must not. We will work to be an example of how we as brothers and sisters on this earth should treat each other. Now, more than ever the illusions of division threaten our very existence. We all know the truth. More connects us than separates us. But in times of crisis the wise build bridges while the foolish build barriers." Glancing over at Ross, she saw that he was smiling a bit at the words of wisdom T'Challa imparted on the United Nations. Whatever happened during his time in Wakanda had changed his outlook on the country. No longer did he think of them as the enemy.
"With all due respect, King T'Challa," one of the representatives spoke up after T'Challa had finished his speech, "what can a nation of farmers have to offer the rest of the world?" The question sent a wave of murmurs through the room. Only few actually knew what Wakanda had to offer. Two of them were sitting right next to each other. Catching T'Challa's eye from where he stood at the podium, Q and he shared an amused, knowing smile. It was about time the world found out what was hiding in Wakanda.
To his credit, T'Challa handled every question that was thrown at him with grace. Q knew a lot of people in the room were afraid of what Wakana offered. The unknowns and uncertainties of what T'Challa was planning on doing with the power he had. But in each answer he gave, it was clear he was no longer ruling from a place of fear; his own or anyone else's.
Knowing she wouldn't get a chance to say goodbye to T'Challa or the others - they were already being flooded with journalists, she decided she would leave them be after the conference finished. Though once everyone was dismissed, Ross made it clear that he wanted to talk with her. As she followed him out of the conference room, she prepared herself for the worst.
"T'Challa and his family saved my life, you know." Ross started while slipping one hand into his pocket, "Woke up in some sort of underground lab a day or two after taking a bullet in the back. And it was completely healed." he let out an amazed laugh of sorts.
"The princess is a genius." she agreed with a slight raise of her eyebrows. Ross nodded in response, considering his next words for a moment before deciding to get straight to it,
"Listen, when I woke up, Shuri was working on removing...whatever it was that was in your head." he stopped walking, but positioned himself so he was standing in front of her, "Those trigger words Hydra put in your head." he gestured to her, looking up to make eye contact for confirmation. Stiffly, she nodded, which made him continue, "I didn't…" he sighed heavily, glancing around himself before looking back at her, "I didn't know you had been tortured by them, Proctor."
"Not something I go around bragging about." she muttered while fidgeting with the edge of the bracelets Nakia had given her to go with the dress she was wearing. She wished for the ones Dawson had given her.
"No, I get that, but…" again with the long pause. It was beginning to drive her insane, "I know about what they did to you." he leaned closer to whisper to maintain some sense of confidentiality, "How they injected you with the same serum used to make Captain Rogers." she swallowed back the lump in her throat, but still nodded.
"What are you saying, Ross?" she tried to get to the point a bit faster.
"You're an enhanced who didn't sign the Accords, Q." he put it plainly. She let out a slow breath as he continued, "I can't protect you from those consequences." she shut her eyes in an effort to calm down. This was it. She was about to be taken back to the Raft once more with no way of getting out this time. Steve wouldn't even know - he wouldn't be able to save her. "But I can give you options." her eyes opened at the offer, taking in Ross' almost sympathetic face. Almost like he pitied her for what happened, "Option one: you sign the Accords. Easy. You're monitored just like the rest of those who signed. Live at the Avengers Compound with Stark and his buddies." he motioned with his coffee cup at her. She waited for option two, "Or, Lang and Barton took a house arrest deal. I'm not saying it has to be that extreme," he put his hands up as if to brace her reaction, "Maybe just the basics. No contact with anyone who didn't sign the Accords or who broke them a few weeks ago, no government or superhero-Avenger type of work."
"So basically just a normal citizen of the world." she summed up. He nodded, free hand going back into his pocket.
"Listen, I'll give you a couple of days to think it over. I'm not going to say anything about what I know." he assured her while rocking back lightly on his heels. A small smile and a nod got him to continue, "For the record, I am glad you're okay, Q. You're a real asset." he pointed at her with his coffee cup, backing away slowly, "Let me know what you decide." he went to turn around, but Q stopped him,
"Let's talk about option two." she was confident in her decision. The last thing she needed was to be beholden to something like the Accords - even if she agreed with them. The freedom offered with the Accords was false. While option two probably included some light monitoring, it was more of a parole officer situation than what would be the monitoring system of the Accords. There was a loophole with option two, not so much with option one. There would be no way for her to ever live a normal life again. After spending the last few days with Bucky in Wakanda, she realized that's all she wanted.
"You sure?" Ross gave her one last chance to choose option one, but her brain had already weighed the pros and cons of each. Nodding, she watched him let out a slight sigh, then give her a nod of agreement, "Alright," he sighed a little, "Let's talk about option two then." he raised his coffee cup at her, indicating she should follow him.
Option two consisted of her giving up her CIA job and Agent title to move back to the States. The upstate of New York to be specific. Somewhere close-ish to the Avengers Compound so that there could be somewhat of an eye kept on her. Just as she suspected, the deal was that she would have monthly check-ins at the Compound with an agent who would report back to some unknown official who handled the Scott and Clint's cases too. While she had managed to slide past the house arrest, there stuck her with an ankle bracelet for the first six months of her deal. That way they could know she was following their rules, and not off sneaking around with Steve or anyone else who was a wanted criminal.
Thankfully, Ross managed to get her a heavy stipend to help her get back on her feet. Apparently working for SHIELD for the past ten years, then the CIA entitled her to some sort of severance package. She wasn't going to question it. Since neither Steve, the Avengers or Dawson were no longer bankrolling her, she would take all the money she could get. Still, she would probably need a job at some point.
Another week had passed by the time she had finally gotten things sorted out with her arrangement. Returning back to the States, she found a one bedroom apartment in Armory Square to rent for herself. It sat one of the main streets above a vintage clothing store, and even though it was one bedroom, the floorplan was open so it felt bigger. With a small deck that jutted out from the living room area, it gave her space to sit outside if she wanted too. The kitchen was small, but it certainly didn't matter since she wouldn't be spending much time in it anyway. Dividing it from the small dining area was an attached counter that held the sink in it. There was a small set of stairs that led up from the main floor to her bedroom and bathroom. Some of the walls were exposed brick and there were all new appliances, but otherwise it was empty.
Still having her storage unit from when she briefly lived in the Avengers Tower with Steve, she was able to get some furniture and knick knacks from her old D.C. apartment. There were even some things from Steve's old apartment in there too. She had picked through what she wanted from her storage unit before packing it all up to take back with her. The necessary furniture like her bed and couch and television had already been bought new considering she had her old stuff for years, and was already strategically placed around the floor plan. The rest were just personal items: photo albums from her growing up, the photostrip from her Coney Island trip with Steve, all of her movies, the guitar she never used, even some of her old clothes. Just to make it feel a little more like home.
As she balanced a duffel bag atop one of the boxes from her storage unit, she slowly turned away from the U-Haul truck she had rented. The duffel of Steve's old vinyls began to slip off the top of the box, causing her to sway her body to catch it before it smashed to the ground. Effectively killing off some of his music collection. Although she was a second too slow, a hand snatched out to grab the strap at the last second. Her eyes trailed up the arm the hand was attached to, heart already beating against her ribcage - and not from almost dropping the duffel bag.
"What are you doing here?" she breathed out as her eyes met the familiar blues she had missed far too long.
A/N: GUESS WHO'S BAAACK! I know it's been too long, but we needed the interlude. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Let me know all of your thoughts and comments and theories.
Of course, I hope you're all hanging in there and staying safe and sane. Hopefully these chapters help a little bit! Love you all!