Winter of the White Wolf

Chapter 10 - Shattered Oaths

There were times when his nightmares crashed like waves hitting the shore, breaking with an urgency so sudden that the transition to consciousness was sharp and painful in its abruptness.

But there were other times when dreams crept, taking their time as they slowly made way to the waking world, leaving a lingering haze on the boundaries between one realm and the next. Those dreams, those middle places of limbo between time, between memories, between promises, and lives: they were almost worse than the nightmares, because their haunting gaze stayed with him for long after his waking moments.

This was one of those times.

As Bucky woke, the first thing he became aware of was his body: of the absence of the restraints and the warm hands on his shoulders and the subdued rigidity of the table beneath him. He opened his eyes to see a dim, claustrophobic view that took him a moment to piece together: black and grey – not the flat white ceiling in a lab, but of a vehicle – a jet. Blue and orange lighting. A quiet hum reverberated through him like a nostalgic lullaby.

He looked down, still fully expecting to see his arm swollen with bruises and the rest of him suitably restrained, but instead he saw he was wearing a black leather jacket, and after a moment – longer than he would have liked – he recognized it as his own.

Slowly, he slid his right hand over his torso and let it rest over first his left clavicle, then the other shoulder, and then the arm. There it was. He took another breath – deeper this time – and as he breathed out, he tried to shake off the dream and reason out the threads that separated what he'd just experienced from what he was seeing now.

"You awake?" It was Sam's voice from somewhere in front of him. The tone was soft, private, concerned.

He answered and closed his eyes again, hoping the next time that he opened them that the separation between the dream and the present would be more clear-cut, "Yeah, I will be. Just need a minute." He forced himself to rotate his body and sit upright, running his hands over his face experimentally.

From somewhere out of his periphery, he heard movement as someone – probably Sam – stepped across the galley and took a seat somewhere a little further down the bench, towards the rear of the plane. That's right: they were on route to Wakanda. He must have fallen asleep somewhere along the way.

When he opened his eyes this time, he forced himself to focus on details. A glance to his left and he saw the front of the jet and the bright blue and orange heads-up display and quickly took note of the absence of a traditional cockpit that confirmed that yes: they were in a Wakandan jet. There was a woman sitting cross-legged in front of the helm and it took him a moment again to separate himself from the dream to identify her as not Ayo, but Nomble: another one of the Dora Miljae from Latvia.

He remembered being relieved, perhaps shamefully even, that Ayo herself hadn't come for them so that he could buy himself just a little more time to figure out what exactly he wanted to say to her. Instead, he kept remembering her eyes from that dream and the feral intensity of them as he tried to compare and contrast them to the most recent time they'd sparred in Zemo's apartment, if you could call it that sparring. He hadn't been trying to fight her, but something in her eyes blazed when they clashed and remained even after she'd toggled that failsafe in the arm.

For not the first time, he tried to push that thought aside, and looked over his left shoulder, to the view outside of the plane. He wasn't ready to look at Sam just yet.

The view outside was pitch black and he caught the time, in Wakandan, towards the center of the holographic display: 10:17pm. The sun must have set hours ago while they were up in the air. He'd been hoping to catch a glimpse of the glowing sunset out the cabin, but he must have fallen asleep somewhere along the way. He tried to do math in his head to calculate how soon they might be landing, but quickly surrendered the attempt. Math could wait. He ran his hand through his short hair again, feeling that familiar sweat deep at the roots.

There was rummaging again to his right, and then Sam's voice again, "Water?"

He looked to his right to see his friend extending and politely wiggling a chilled bottle of water in his direction. His eyes briefly met Sam's, but just as quickly retreated as he accepted the bottle with one obedient hand. He was thirsty, and if he was drinking, that also meant he wasn't talking. That seemed like a fair arrangement.

Sam stayed quiet as he sat and presumably watched Bucky finish the bottle, but by that point, Bucky couldn't help his own damn curiosity, "Did I say anything?"

"A little." A pause, "But none of it was in English."

That was probably the least surprising thing he'd heard today, but it still elicited a bitter sigh all the same. There was a part of him, the smallest, but potent part of him that wanted to reassure Sam that it hadn't been one of those dreams, the dreams where he stepped out of himself and systematically executed people around him with practiced efficiency. That no one had died by his hand in this dream, as if somehow that made the nightmare any more palatable.

It didn't.

In fact, it made it worse because he knew these people, and they'd been trying to help him. And he'd been trying with every ounce of his strength to kill them: just like he'd pointedly tried to do to Steve on more than one occasion.

That guilt drummed itself back up in him as he glanced to Sam again, finally daring to read his expression, which was sympathetic, but also profoundly concerned. On more than one occasion, he'd tried to kill him too. Well, the Winter Soldier had, but at the present moment, he was feeling a whole lot less distinction than he would have liked between the two.

"I'll shake it off, I'm just tired." His hoarse voice certainly sounded tired. It felt like gravel: like he'd been screaming.

He saw Sam look towards the front of the plane, as if calculating the distance and how well the two of them might be overheard by their pilot, and how much that mattered.

What Bucky wanted to say, well, maybe not wanted to say, but at least for a fraction of a second considered saying was that she'd seen a whole host of the those nightmares too, just from her own perspective.

Which also didn't make him feel any better.

Yeah, he didn't want to talk about this.

So he did the mature thing and crossed his arms, looked back up at the ceiling, and shoved it all down. "You should ask Nomble to show you the navigation array. I'm sure she'd be glad to give you a quick tour of the interface."

He didn't need to see Sam's face firsthand to imagine that pointed look of: Are you seriously changing the subject?

There was a Sam-sized pause before he deadpanned, "I can't read Wakandan."

Which was followed closely by Nomble's throaty voice from the far side of the craft, "I can change the language display." Of course she was listening. At least she was playing along too. "We'll be landing soon."

Sam muttered something and stood up, making it a point to walk close enough to Bucky that he could catch his eyes and personally deliver a we're talking about this later-look before he stepped towards the front of the cabin.

Bucky let the two pilots talk shop for a few minutes while he gave himself a little more time for his head to clear up as much as it was going to. He drowned out the nearby conversation, not because he wasn't interested in hearing about what upgrades the jets had gotten in the last five years since The Decimation, but because he just didn't have the focus for that sort of thing at the moment. He remembered when Ayo and Okoye had started to train him on the old interface, back when it seemed entirely possible he'd be sticking around for to assist the Wakandan special forces and pay off some of his sizable debt to them. It was strange to think how fresh that thought had been only months ago to him, but how it was years to the other half the population. Had those huts out by the lake survived all this time?

Only when he felt the tell-tale sign of the elevation starting to dip did he force himself to his feet and walk over to join the two of them at the helm.

Their conversation broke as he approached. Sam stood on Nomble's right, and she acknowledged Bucky with the smallest of nods as he filled in the space on her left. The outside world was almost entirely black, though a rich cascade of stars shown in the sky overhead. The heads-up display, which was indeed now shown in English, offered a real-time overlay of the unseen lands below as well as the distant 3D grids that formed the outlines of the towering buildings of Birnin Zana, the Golden City.

"Has it changed much? Since The Decimation?"

Nomble glanced sideways at him, as if she was surprised he could speak at all. "It has," she confirmed after a moment, "But Wakanda stood firm while myself and others glimpsed the realm of our ancestors."

Sam nodded, "Yeah, Buck and I felt that one too."

There was a moment of what felt something like silent kinship between them as the lights of the towering city sparked into view with a grandeur that was exotic as it was beautiful. Even from this distance, the monorails were visible, their organic paths weaving through the rounded and twisting spires that accented the skyline. For a moment, he found himself wondering who might be there to greet them, and on what terms. He had to imagine King T'Challa, Ramonda, Shuri, and probably Okoye were there waiting, at least that's what he thought until he saw the overlays on the screen shift away from the city proper.

He waited a moment until he spoke up, "Where are we landing?"

"The Wakanda Design Group," Nomble answered simply as she shifted one hand to guide the craft towards a distant plateau whose dominant side had been shaped into the massive form of a snarling vibranium panther. It crouched protectively over the widest entrance to the mines below. Familiar blue light illuminated the opening in the mountain, matched only by the intensity of the lights that crested and reflected off the twisting spire of glass and metal that reached skywards out of the gaping hole in the ground that nested in the center of the main entrance.

Bucky ruminated to himself as the jet approached, but said nothing. His best guess was that either Shuri was working late or perhaps she'd discovered something she wanted to make sure to show them right away before they settled in for the night. Regardless: It would be good to see her. He'd missed being around someone with that sort of zest for life as well as all things technological. She was always so eager to jump in and help, and he appreciated that she was willing to share whatever she'd learned of Symkaria.

When the jet finally turned and settled, the back hatch popped open and a wave of sweet warm air rolled in. It was welcoming in its familiarity, though the temperature change was enough to make his leather jacket feel like overkill, so he peeled it off and laid it to one side while he waited for the rest of them to get situated. Nomble was the first to her feet, and she made a point of gesturing to their traveling gear before they departed for the Wakandan Design Group, "You can leave that here. We'll be back after."

Sam nodded and motioned to the case, that case, "What about…?"

Nomble managed a genuine smile at that, "You should probably bring it. I'm sure Princess Shuri will want to hear your thoughts."

That got a grin from Sam that Bucky was welcome to see across his friend's face. He didn't miss the fact that Sam grabbed the shield as well. Full ensemble it was.

As the rear of the craft opened, he saw three figures standing a distance away on the landing pad. The first hurried up to them, while the Dora Milaje to either side followed close in her wake.

Shuri had a smile on her face as she greeted… Sam first, "Sam! How is the suit? I want to hear all about it."

Bucky found himself trying to catch her attention with a small wave, but when she glanced his way, he could feel something cool in her gaze and forced in her smile. Ouch. I guess it was unrealistic to assume she would have taken the news about Zemo lightly on account of the man was pointedly responsible for her own father's death.

Yep. He probably deserved that.

He glanced to either side of her, nodding to first Ayo and then Yama before he heard Nomble fall into step behind him. The last time he'd spoken with Ayo over the Kimoyo beads, she'd seemed… different somehow. There was something in her expression now that he couldn't quite parse, but maybe he was just reading too much into things when he still felt half-awake at-best. He kept finding himself thinking about the fierceness in her eyes from that dream, and wishing he could find the right words to set things right between them.

He inclined his head respectfully to each of them as he approached, "Ayo. Yama." Yama nodded back, but her eyes went to Ayo as she did. Ayo said nothing as Yama went to Shuri's side and she stepped in front of him, putting herself between them.

Bucky was casually aware that somewhere in front of them, Shuri and Sam were talking about the wings and the density of the mesh as they walked, but after what felt like a solid five minutes of silence, he finally glanced to Ayo genuinely not following what felt like a sudden shift in her mood from when they'd spoken only a few hours previously, "Is there something going on I'm missing? I know you said it would be good to make myself scarce in Wakanda. If you didn't want to help, you didn't need to have us come here. I wasn't trying to overstep."

She narrowed her eyes and set her jaw, and in that moment, he felt like there was a chasm between them there he wasn't following. Her tone was cold, direct, "We will do what we can to help, because it is the right and honorable thing to do."

He frowned, feeling like there was a double-meaning he was missing, but unsure if he should press her. Nomble walked to his left, saying nothing, pretending to be oblivious to the exchange as they made their way towards the next level of the Wakandan Design Group.

"Look, I'm not sure what this is about—" he began.

"Don't play the part of a fool," she spat in a voice so low it was practically a whisper.

"Is this about Zemo? Because I genuinely thought that…" he's started that thought off without knowing where he was even going with it, and when Ayo came to a sudden stop to regard him, he still wasn't sure exactly what he was trying to say.

"You thought what?" She spoke clearly, raising her chin towards him, and attracting the attention of another Dora Milaje nearby who glanced their way.

Great. Bucky opened and closed his mouth once, trying to formulate the correct sequence of words to prevent this from escalating, whatever this was. What he wanted to say was that he respected her, and that he was sorry for doing things behind their back and upsetting people he cared about in the process. That he'd just gotten so blinded to the idea of there being more super soldiers out there that he'd wanted to cut things off before things could spiral further out of control. He wanted to confess that that shit with Walker and the shield had impacted his judgement, but that he'd never meant to hurt them. They'd done so much for him, for so long, and he hadn't forgotten it.

Instead, what his stupid mouth said was, "I thought I was doing the right thing."

And then Ayo, who barely ever spoke over a whisper, turned her eyes on him and though a harried breath, bore down on him like lion, "When I came to you in Latvia, I was angry." She paused, correcting, "We were angry," Bucky didn't miss the fact that Shuri, Sam, and Yama were no longer walking, and had turned back to regard whatever confrontation was presently transpiring behind them. "I couldn't believe what I heard, believe that you did what you did without a moment of thought about how we would feel."

Bucky thought about saying something to that, but he stayed silent as Ayo continued, "You said that monster was a means to an end. And because I trusted you at your word, I did not even ask what you planned for him. I gave you eight more hours without question, did I not?"

He nodded uncomfortably, finding it hard to continue to meet those eyes of hers as she spoke, "You did."

"And I believed, that if I had instead told you I wanted to take him right then, that you would have delivered him without delay."

"Of course, Ayo I—"

She cut him off with her hand, "So hours later, when your time is up, we came for him." Her brown eyes were seared into him now, "And did you hand him over to us?"

"I mean —"

"Did you hand him over?"

"That's not what —"

There was something else in her eyes then, a fire he wasn't accustomed to. He half expected her to strike out at him, but instead she stepped closer to him, bearing down on him, "You did not. You stood and watched as that man insulted us, and then goaded him on." She made a sound with her throat and mimicked Bucky's passing remark, "Looking strong, John."

When she put it that way, it…

"You did not join us, we who were supposed to be your allies. You stood and watched it like a lazy leopard watching a butterfly. And worse yet: You didn't even ensure Zemo remained under guarded watch."

This fresh perspective on that entire interaction made Bucky's expression tighten the longer she spoke, "And then, then when we were finally ready to disarm that ridiculous American man, you stepped in and took up arms against us."

This was one of the few times Bucky felt remotely justified in his response, "I was worried for a moment you might actually kill him, Ayo, that's the only reason I—"

"Oh, don't you dare, James." Her tone was a rattlesnake's warning, "I know when I mean to disarm, and when I mean to kill. Are you so certain you remember the difference?"

Now in that moment, as she stood with her face inches away from Bucky's, he found that the actual words she said quickly evaporated the moment they left her lips, but the meaning, the intent, and profound hurt she clearly felt reached right into him and twisted. In all his years beside her, he'd never seen her this angry, and yet, try as he did to justify each step of his actions, he could see very real betrayal in her eyes as she bore down upon him.

When she was either satisfied Bucky'd gotten the crux of her message or unsure if she wanted to say more, she snarled something under her breath and whirled, marching straight past Yama, Shuri, and Sam as through the next set of doors into one of the facility's many research labs.

For a moment, Bucky was too stunned to move. Every word she'd said was true, and frankly awful when held up to light as she had. The longer he stood there, the more shamed he was by his actions and inactions, but he also didn't have a clue what he was supposed to do to make it right. He hadn't meant to hurt her, she had to know that. But it was abundantly clear that intent hardly made him innocent of doing just that, and to a level he clearly was only just beginning to grasp.

He stood there, just trying to collect his thoughts as Sam and Shuri looked back his way. Sam's expression was compassionate, but tinged with an understandable amount of guilt for his role as a bystander as well, and Shuri… she just looked so heartbroken. So profoundly disappointed in someone she'd come to trust as well.

"Come," Nomble said from somewhere to his left. He didn't feel like he had the energy to lift his head and see her expression, so he just sighed as he got his feet moving again. Sam'd definitely been right that the Wakandans not having forgotten about what Zemo'd done, but what they hadn't seen coming was that Bucky would singlehandedly find a way to be so self-absorbed in his own head that he would be damn-near oblivious to when he was actively hurting the people around him who he was supposed to care about. Those same people, some of which had literally put their lives on the line to help deprogram him and get him sorted out. He'd stood by and watched from the sidelines when they'd come to collect the man that had murdered their King, and he'd done absolutely nothing to help. Worse yet: he hadn't even realized the full extent of what he'd done until Ayo had poured it out for him to see.

As he stepped into the immaculately white lab, no one was saying anything. The usual bustle of assistants had long-since gone home for the day, but the room pulsed with the familiar hum of latent technology.

Part of Bucky was relieved that the room wasn't the same one from the dream, the same one he'd spent so much time in, but there was still part of him that was leery of spaces like this because they reminded him of times he would have mostly preferred to forget, and at the moment, it felt like it was drumming up yet another wave of uncomfortable memories and laced with guilt.

Bucky watched Sam's eyes momentarily widen in wonder as he looked out over the strange technology spread across the room, but he was quick to pull his attention back to Bucky. He certainly didn't look comfortable about all this, but he made it a point to casually wander back over when he deduced that they were apparently coming to a stop in this particular room. Sam took up position a few steps to one side of him in what was no-doubt a valiant attempt to let Bucky know he wasn't going to let him take this all on his own. It was a noble gesture, but Bucky also didn't want any of whatever he'd done sullying Sam, or Captain America for that matter. This whole thing was about his own personal history with the Wakandans: not Sam's.

Sam did his best to look nonchalant as he placed the suitcase to one side and leaned the shield against it.

Bucky didn't say anything, but he hoped Sam could read the I'm so sorry for getting us into this mess-in his expression.

Ayo stood at the other end of the lab with her back to them as she gazed stoically out through the windows that looked out into the blue glow of the vibranium mines. He didn't know what she was thinking, but Bucky wanted to say something, anything to express the depths of just how sorry he was to her in particular. His thoughts of penance were cut short when Shuri cleared her throat for their attention.

"We do want to help," she began, speaking with more slow purpose than he remembered, "That hasn't changed. But we feel it's important to discuss the matter, because if we do not, I fear it will only fester."

Her eyes met Bucky's, and he could see the clear sadness and disappointment in her normally upbeat expression, "We have persevered through… much more than most. So I want to give you the benefit of the doubt to explain."

Bucky caught something change in Sam's expression a moment later. It was like watching realization dawn on someone while Bucky was still a few steps behind, trying to figure out where this was all headed.

Shuri made a very particular face as she pressed a sequence of keystrokes into her palm, which prompted a nearby display came to life… and with it, hand-held footage of a bar fight in Madripoor.

Author's Remarks:

…Yeeeeeeep! _

…YEEEEEEEPPPPPPPPPP…

Also to be clear about my head-canon, I DO believe that the events above (minus the video) are precisely why Ayo was pissed-off enough at Bucky to literally disarm him. I don't feel like in canon, it's implied they were aware of what exactly Bucky and Sam had previously been up to with Zemo, but I have maintained a fair amount of frustration that we saw people in that bar taking out their cell phones and then… nothing really manifested of that particular plot thread. It was left dangling. And even if I imagine they asked Sharon behind-the-scenes to try to keep that footage from getting out there in the open, I can genuinely think of no one that would be more angered by that whole scene than… the Wakandans.

So here we are.

Ohhhhh here we are.

Buckle-in, because our duo have a whole heap of explainin' to do.

I'd originally considered breaking this chapter up into two parts, but I felt it was important to not only get to the exchange with Ayo, but the added crux of why... people are more than a little upset.

I had to dig to find the names of the two other Dora Milaje seen in "The Falcon and the Winter Soldier." Yama is the Dora Milaje that momentarily pilfered John Walker's/Cap's shield, and Nomble is the other badass with a spear and a face tattoo. #TheMoreYouKnow