That evening, their party divided in two, with the ladies going off on a girls' night out, Steve heard mention of manicures and mud baths, and he and Bucky headed out for a bite to eat and a catching-up. Steve had invited Natasha to join them, fully aware that she wasn't particularly familiar with Rachael yet, and had just met her sister and mother, and Naledi. But, she had begged off saying "You guys go ahead without me. Besides, you don't get to look this great without a little self-care sometimes."
And so the two groups had gone their separate ways, and though they hadn't specifically planned it, it turned into a bit of a stag night/hen-do. Steve wasn't really that familiar with Wakanda. His visits had been mostly to the palace and not the city itself, and while T'Challa was perfectly hospitable, as he always was to Steve, the king was otherwise occupied tonight, and Steve didn't want to impose on him. So he leaned on Bucky to find a spot for the evening, who was more than happy to show him around the city that had welcomed him when he needed it most.
And so, Steve found himself being led by Bucky through the winding streets of the capital city. He couldn't see that it followed any sort of order, but Bucky and the locals managed to navigate it with ease. Africans seemed to have an aversion to straight roads, and grid-like cities, choosing instead, even in this, the technology-filled Golden City of Wakanda, to let their city grow organically.
They finally stopped at the end of a narrow passageway between two lively looking buildings, apparently having reached their destination. Bucky crossed the threshold of the Shebeen – a local, informal watering hole - and gestured to Steve to follow. The scattered patrons looked up briefly then returned to their drinks, or their table-games. The barman caught Bucky's eye and gave him a nod of greeting, before returning to his task. Apparently, Bucky was a regular here; Wakanda had been open to the world for a few years now, but visitors were infrequent enough that foreigners were still an oddity. He must have come by often enough to have made companions of the regulars. Steve was glad to see his friend settling in to life again. He remembered how hard he had found it to really commit to the future after having come through the war. Bucky's war had been so much longer, and so much bleaker than just WWII, but he'd always been adaptable, been the one who made fast friends with everyone he met and roped Steve into joining in. Hydra hadn't managed to burn that part of him away. As he settled in to the atmosphere and sent Bucky off with his drink order it struck him how similar the vibe was to their old pub back home, way back home, in Brooklyn. The décor and the setting were completely foreign, but the old men sitting at tables, boasting of old conquests, of the health of their herds and the accomplishments of their grandchildren, the youths playing something akin to billiards, whiling away an idle afternoon, and the kindly looking bartender, watching over his patrons with a knowing eye all struck a chord of homesickness in Steve. He could see why Bucky had gravitated here.
They chose a table, and started drinking and talking. Not that either of them expected to be inebriated with their modified metabolisms, but they started with some palm wine anyway, just try the local speciality, before switching to more familiar drinks as they talked.
"I'm so happy for you, Steve," Bucky said, in that mournfully earnest way he had picked up since finding himself again after Hydra. "It makes me glad to see you building a real life."
"Thanks, Buck," he said, clapping his hand over his best friend's shoulder. "I never thought I would find someone like this. And I'm so glad to have you here to share this beginning with me.
"So," Bucky started, "Tell me about the lucky lady."
Steve launched into a monologue on Rachael's history and character. Bucky had heard a lot of it before (when they had talked on the phone, Steve had a hard time going more than a few sentences before bringing her up) but he was keen to humour his friend who was clearly head-over-heels.
"When she suggested coming to Africa for the wedding, I jumped right on it. Not just to see you, but because she's clearly put a lot of her heart into helping the people here. That's one of the things I love about her, she's always seeing ways of improving the world around her. I really feel like I've found a true partner. Her gifts are so different, she and I, but I feel like she understands the drive to step out and do something. I sometimes wonder how much of a difference I'm really making in the world, when all I find myself doing is going from fight to fight. Yet when something happens, I know I'm the one who has to step up and stop it. Erskine taught me that. Still, it's nice to see Rachael work really building things up again and healing things in the aftermath. She makes me feel like a better man. I really love her, Buck."
"That's beautiful, Steve. But don't put yourself down. You're not just a combatant. I've seen those, I understand men like that. You've really built something important with the Avengers. You're earth's defenders. That's got real value. You've always been a protector, it's something to aspire to. People can look up to that. There's nothing in your past to be ashamed of."
And Steve saw by his friend's inward gaze that he was thinking of his own history. He knew that his friend's actions as the Winter Soldier, when he was under Hydra's programming, still weighed on him heavily. Steve hoped he could lighten that load.
"How about you? Any ladies on the horizon? The last date I remember you went on was with that spunky freedom fighter in the French Resistance. I never knew how you managed to find them all. Or maybe they found you?"
Bucky smiled briefly in remembrance, and then shook his head. "Those days are over for me now, I think. I couldn't ask someone to trust me now, with all the things I've done. I barely trust me. I know I've been deprogrammed. Hydra's not hiding in my head anymore, but those memories are all still there. All the things I've done. My behaviour is on me now. I couldn't ask someone to take that on."
"There's people around who understand more than you might think. Everyone's got a history, and especially in this business, they aren't always the cleanest. Natasha's a good listener. You should let her tell you her story."
Bucky nodded noncommittally. Your own love might be closer than you think, Steve thought. Now that he had someone, he wanted everyone he cared for to find the same happiness. He could see now why Dr. Kabalevsky had been so into matchmaking. When you saw two friends who had a chance for real happiness together, you couldn't help but want to encourage them.
Steve had been keeping tabs on his friend, but didn't often get a chance to see him in person. His muscular bulk was unaltered, thanks to the serum, but he'd lost that haunted, strung out look that had been Hydra's legacy, and the bulk that wasn't muscle and bone had filled out nicely, giving him a healthy glow thanks to the African sunshine, and wholesome outdoor exercise.
"I've become a goatherd, you know. The Herder tribe's taken me in, mostly, but all Wakandans keep tabs of their family herd. They're very fond of their traditions that way. It's usually the kids that start off with the goats, but I wasn't allowed to go for the rhinos. That's another level of crazy, right there.
"So I've been spending my days with the kids, wandering the veld with my goats – you get to know them by name pretty quick. The days are unstructured, almost aimless. It's more freedom than I've had in a while. Maybe ever."
"You deserve a little freedom. You've done more than enough fighting for one lifetime."
"There's always another fight," Bucky said, his gaze turning dark for a moment, "but for now I'm happy to shelter here, and find myself again, for as long as that lasts."
He did seem more himself, Steve thought. As they'd spent their evening, he'd been the old Buck, with just the occasional flashes of Winter Soldier breaking through. He really had recovered all his past memories, Steve mused as they rolled on to reminiscing about the good old days, even older days than for the wizened old men at the table next to theirs, doing the same. He was so glad to see his friend reconnecting with who he had been. With the Bucky Barnes that Hydra had taken from him. Steve could tell he was feeling more like himself than he'd seen him since the war. But Steve didn't think he realized yet how much the Winter soldier was him, too. It was the little things, like the way he had blended right in to a society that would have been completely foreign to a 1940's New Yorker, and in a foreign language to boot. Or the new fondness for Vodka he'd picked up since the last time they'd gone drinking together.
He was hopeful about Bucky's progress. He knew his own path to mental health gad come via reconciling his two natures, the skinny kid from Brooklyn and the legendary war hero. It was in embracing that he was both, that he had finally come to fully own his own life again. He was so glad to see Buck finding the Sarge again, that man who went for what he wanted and his place in the world.
Maybe some day he'd be able to reconcile the two halves of himself. Not two natures at war, but rather a whole man, who had gone through some terrible hardships, but had come out the other side stronger for it. It was a future Steve hoped for his long-time friend, with all his heart. It was something he aspired to himself.
His thoughts turned again to what the future might bring him, and the step towards that future he would take the next morning. He couldn't wait to formally commit to Rachael. Over the short time they'd known each other, she'd already brought so much joy to his life. And yet, there had still been a pall of uncertainty over their relationship: an unspoken What if this doesn't work? For his part, he was anxious to ease her doubts. He knew with the same certainty that he knew most things: she was the only one for him.
Steve glanced around the room; the bar had grown quiet as the evening had lengthened. Most of the patrons had gone home, and the barkeep had begun wiping down the bar.
"I suppose we'd better head back. Looks like it's almost closing time," he said.
"That's right. We'd better get you home. You're getting married in the morning. Can't have you sleeping in and missing it," was Bucky's teasing rejoinder.
And so the two men gathered themselves up and headed back out into the darkened streets of the city.