Hi, guys! It's the last chapter of this fanfiction! Hooray! Soon, though, the website will say that there are 20 chapters rather than 19. The last chapter is me explaining future plans and a little insider information about writing this fanfiction if you would like to read that and find out what other stories I have planned.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy the very last chapter of "Through a Soldier's Eyes"!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Chapter Nineteen

Gradually, the bangs of their blasts and the groans from their punches wormed their way back into my consciousness, and I managed to open my eyes. There was a large crack and sounds of sparking electricity, but then there was silence. After a moment, Steve came into view and held out his hand. I ignored the searing pain that came with the movement and took his hand anyway. Steve pulled me back to my feet and slung my arm over his shoulder.

"That shield doesn't belong to you," Tony announced. "You don't deserve it." Steve helped me take a few steps forward, but I can barely keep my head up. "My father made that shield!"

Steve pauses for a moment, then lets his shield drop to the concrete ground. He didn't say a word and helped me limp off towards a door. He turns the handle and shoulders it open, bringing us out into the blindingly bright, white landscape.

He guides me back towards the Quinjet, but a voice makes him freeze. "Where do you plan to go?" I recognize it as T'Challa. What does he want now?

Steve turns, and I make out the blurred outline of T'Challa in his black cat suit, though his helmet is removed. "Wherever we can," Steve sighs before continuing back towards the jet.

"You can't go anywhere." The snow crunches behind us, and then he is suddenly in front of us. "You are wanted criminals in almost every nation. Almost. Let me take you to Wakanda, my home. We can care for you there."

"First you try to kill us, then you offer to help us?" Steve questioned.

"My apologies," T'Challa mutters glancing down. "I was acting on the limited information I had, but I realize now that Zemo is truly responsible. I have left him for Tony Stark to find." They're both silent for a moment, and a sharp, hot pain from my shoulder makes me hiss. "Please. Come to Wakanda. We can provide for you."

I try to force the pain away, but I can't. It's too persistent.

Steve glances between me and T'Challa before nodding. T'Challa turns and races aboard the Quinjet, and Steve follows after as fast as he can while holding me. I want to ask him to stop. He needs medical attention, too. He took a worse beating than I did. He must be aching. But I know that even if I asked him to, he wouldn't do any such thing.

Steve lowers me into a seat on the jet and carefully straps me in. "Where'd you learn to fly a Quinjet?" he shouts over the humming of the engines and the retracting landing ramp.

"We have many resources in Wakanda," T'Challa answers.

After a day of flight that pushes the jet past its limits, T'Challa tells us that we've arrived. Steve and I have taken care of our cuts and bruises, and the seemingly endless supply of aspirin took away most of the soreness, but it did nothing to dull the pain in my shoulder. It aches constantly. I can usually ignore it, but for some reason, it seems to be inflamed-which was impossible because it's made of metal.

I watched over T'Challa's shoulder as we flew over trees and desert land. T'Challa guided the jet through the air and directly for a mountain. I tensed as he didn't slow down, but then the image of the mountain blurred and opened, revealing a shining city of glass and metal. "Like I said, we have many resources in Wakanda," he explained.

We glided over the city and eventually landed on a large landing platform. There were several armed women standing on the platform in red and gold battle dresses. T'Challa opened the landing ramp, and I carefully unbuckled myself from the seat, minding my shoulder. Steve took my arm and helped me up. He guided me a little too carefully down the ramp after T'Challa. A shorter, young woman separated herself from the group of warriors and ran up to T'Challa, embracing him. "Glad you could make it back, Brother."

"Thank you, Shuri," T'Challa muttered. He gestured to Steve and I before turning back to the army of women. "These men need medical attention. Please, see to it."

The women simultaneously crossed their arms at their shoulders and put their feet together in one sharp movement before returning to their tense resting position.

Several people ran up to Steve and I and guided us through the halls of T'Challa's enormous castle. "Thought you said Wakanda was a third world country," I muttered to Steve.

"Everyone's just full of surprises now," he whispered back.

The people lead us to a hospital wing with a lot of holograms and computer screens that didn't make sense to me. They sat us down on separate tables across from each other and started to look us over.

I was nervous about telling Steve what I thought over on the flight here. He will outright reject the idea, but there wasn't another way. "Hey, Steve," I started, my voice quiet with nerves.

"Yeah, Buck?"

"I've been thinking on the way over here, and…" I trailed off as I took a nervous breath and prepared for his reaction, "I think it's best that I go back into cryo."

I glanced up at Steve and found him sitting straight up, rigidly stone-faced. "Why? You're not in danger. We don't need to hide you here. There's no reason for you to go-"

"There is, Steve," I cut off, keeping my voice calm. "Those words still affect me. If someone else says them, we could go right back to square one with me not knowing you at all."

After a whole minute of Steve staring at me in silence, his shoulders sagged, and he sighed. "Only if you're sure. You're under no obligation to go back in."

I nodded. "I'm sure."

After an hour or two, the Wakandan doctors removed the broken, jagged edges of metal from my left shoulder. The shoulder part of the prosthetic was still there, but the edges were smoothed down, and the constant aching had lessened. It took me a while to convince myself to trust them, but I felt so much lighter after they took away the pain, and it wasn't just a physical lightness of having several pounds of metal and wires suddenly removed from my person. I felt...freer. I could breathe more easily

The doctors gave me a white undershirt and pants that I changed into, though it was difficult to do one handed. They wrapped a black covering around my shoulder that drained away the little amount of pain that still lingered as Steve walked up to me. "You sure about this?" he asked for the tenth time.

I glanced behind him at the white, glass cryotube the Wakandans had prepared. "I can't trust my own mind," I sighed. "So, until they figure out how to get this stuff out of my head, I think going back under is the best thing. For everybody." And who knows. I might dream of good memories while I'm under. I don't think I ever dreamed with HYDRA, and if I did I don't remember, but these people are nice. I could dream here. My only regret about going back under was never talking to Natalia again. Maybe I'll dream of her.

"It is ready, Mister Barnes," a woman announced.

I nodded and slid myself off of the table I was sitting on. I was a little anxious about going back under, but I kept reminding myself that this wasn't HYDRA. These people won't hurt me. They've treated me with nothing but kindness since I got here, even though they have no idea who I am.

I step in and back lean against the cushion as the doctors strap me in. At least it's more comfortable than HYDRA's chamber. It's more open. The glass slid up, and I let my eyes finally close. Air hissed loudly inside, and it became rapidly freezing.

Then I dreamed.

I hope you guys enjoyed the fanfiction overall, and thanks so much to those who have read and given me your feedback! And I hope to see you soon in another story!