Winter of the White Wolf

Chapter 18 - Family

Bucky wasn't entirely sure how long they'd spent talking to Mamma and Ch'toa over breakfast, but when they'd finally saw fit to be on their way and try to walk off some portion of the calories they'd put down, both women had absolutely refused even the slightest mention of payment.

When Sam had gone in for an attempt at negotiation, Mamma'd just waved him off with one broad hand, practically singing at him how the meal was their solemn pleasure, and he'd best come back soon and bring his sister and nephews with him next time. Ch'toa held fast beside her that his money was no good here, and besides: They were better off spending it on clothes, that she went so far as to insist, "Have an actual lick of personal style to them."

He was certain he saw Yama crack a smile at that remark, too. Apparently they must've all become fashion critics while he was away. He couldn't speak for Sam, but Bucky felt certain they could spot the fact he'd taken to the convenience of mail-order clothing so he didn't have to actually go clothes shopping.

"We packed for a different climate altogether," Bucky found himself defending.

"A much colder climate," Sam saw fit to specify.

Ch'toa waved the reasoning away, "Grown men should know better than to dress themselves bland if they don't want people pointn' it out."

"Bland," Bucky repeated as he turned to Sam beside him, "She just called Captain America and his stash of blue jeans and identical red shirts bland."

"They're not identical, and you of anyone have no place to talk, mister goth-wannabe wardrobe."

That got a bark of a laugh out of Mamma who slung a motherly arm around Bucky's elbow and leaned-in conspiratorially, "Oh, he's a feisty one!"

"Don't encourage him," Bucky forced a groan, even though he could feel a smile somewhere underneath. There was something nice about just… standing around chatting and enjoying each other's company like this. Neither Mamma nor Ch'toa had seen fit to give him sass over not stopping by sooner. They were both just so happy to see him, to meet Sam, to catch up like nothing'd happened because that's just who they were. And if Ayo hadn't called him back here to Wakanda… well. He wasn't sure how long he might've gone without seeing them again.

He let himself clutch to a reflective moment while Mamma and Ch'toa saw fit to give Sam a more detailed round of fashion advice befitting Captain America and Yama looked on from nearby.

The air was still heady with the warm afterglow of the cafe's rich, signature spices. Nearby patrons and passerbys chatted with people around them, their voices blending seamlessly into the rhythm and eclectic mix of street musicians and hand-drums. While the ambiance remained a familiar, welcome sight, Bucky let himself try to imagine it over those absent years.

He tried to picture half the people just… gone. Their faces, stripped of those smiles and replaced with worry for the people they'd lost in the Battle of Wakanda and the Decimation it brought. His eyes looked back towards the tables, and tried to strip out half the people there too: instead of families and pairs: empty seats and the quiet silence of those reflecting on missing people that most had rightfully assumed were dead and gone with the snap.

And he imagined Ayo sitting alone at one of those tables, so stubborn she wasn't able to accept things and move on either.

He didn't have to think hard to imagine her throwing herself into her work, or keeping her chin up as she focused on her duty alongside Okoye, Yama, and whatever other Doras and allies survived the snap. It was easy to imagine her out there fighting, but it was harder yet more vividly painful to imagine her here in Mamma and Ch'toa's patio just… existing. Wondering about the people she cared about. Apparently, he had been among them.

That singular image, of that strong woman sitting alone in silence out here on one of these very same patio chairs had a way of making Bucky feel more guilty than he had in hours.

And to think: the next time they'd spoken at any length, it would be in that Latvian alleyway. About Zemo.

God. What a mess.

His attention was drawn back to the present as a set of strong arms and the scent of fresh bread wrapped their way around him.

"No use letting yourself focus on a past none of us can very-well change," Mamma's words were soft and meant for him alone as she slipped into her rich Wakandan accent, "Uya kuyifumana. Uhlala usenza njalo. Kwaye uhlala unosapho lwakho apha." You'll figure it out. You always do. And you've always got your family here.

Bucky looked up to meet her brown eyes, and found they remained steadfast in their conviction. He nodded quickly and hugged her back with one arm, leaning into the comfort of her embrace before she risked seeing his eyes misting up.

After a solid ten minutes of further hugging and reassurances that they'd make sure to stop by before they headed out, Bucky, Sam and Yama waved goodbye and stepped back out into the busy city street and its sea of colorful people.

Now that Bucky had his bearings, he also knew precisely where he wanted to go next. This particular spot was the closest thing he could think of as a way of thanking Sam for just… being Sam through these last twenty-four hours. Not only would he love it, but he wouldn't see it coming.

Bucky glanced down at the Kimoyo Beads around his wrist and up at the nearest clock readout: Shuri'd responded to his message saying she'd catch up with them in two hours, which left about an hour or so to kill. Ayo hadn't responded, but he wasn't sure if that was on account of her being otherwise occupied, or if she was seeing fit to see how that silent treatment he'd given her for months felt when it was flipped back around at him.

He hoped it was the former.

"Well that was. Wow," Sam kept pace to Bucky's left.

"Told you it was going to ruin you."

"I'm more just thrown for a loop that you kept all that to yourself."

Bucky shrugged nonchalantly and smiled as he stepped to the right to make way for one of the numerous slow-moving public transports that criss-crossed the busy city streets, "Something else, huh?"

"I wasn't talkin' about the food," Sam clarified, "Though you're obviously damn right about about that bit."

Bucky swiveled his head to look over the patterned blue shawl at Sam, not following, "Huh?"

Sam waved a hand back in the direction of the cafe, "Those people back there. That wasn't just a restaurant. Those were were your people, man. Can see it plain as day." His expression shifted, like he was doing his best to read what was going on in Bucky's head, "You really don't see that?"

He did what he could to come to his own lukewarm defense, "I mean. Sort of. I guess." He settled on, "It's complicated."

His friend's eyebrow was raised so high it risked floating away, "I'm thinking it's a lot less complicated then your cyborg brain is making it out to be, Buck." He paused a breath, as if he was being particularly selective with how he was choosing his next words, "You have all the makings of a family out here, and it seems to me you're being dense if you're reading that back there as anything but."

The thought had certainly crossed his mind now and again, but Bucky found himself quick to dismiss it because that felt easier than ruminating over the emotions it drummed up along with the consequences of his actions, "Maybe. But certainly not anymore." And there he went again: shoving those uncomfortable feelings down for not the first time that day.

Sam rolled his eyes back dramatically and shook his head. He chose to drop the subject for the time being, but Bucky was sure it'd come back around soon enough. "So where're we headin' next?" he supplied as a blissful if intentional change of subject.

"Just another little place I wanted to show you since we have about an hour to kill before we meet up with Shuri."

"Well after that culinary majesty back there? I'm game, even if you're making it a point to be all needlessly vague and annoying."

Bucky just grinned.

They didn't have much further to go, and while they could have hopped on one of the transports and cut their time a bit, Bucky found something grounding about just being out among the crowds and their unhurried pace, the little flickers of lively conversation, and the strange familiarity of the place. As he walked, sometimes it was hard to even remember time had passed at all, that it wasn't just... another day in Birnin Zana. Before Thanos. Before Steve being gone. And before his world turned upside down yet again.

If he wasn't focusing on it, sometimes he even forgot about the arm. He'd felt the absence of it so acutely last night and in the morning hours, but right now, the wound it left didn't feel so raw.

Maybe it was the fact that Sam'd seen fit to maintain a steady presence to his vulnerable side, or the familiarity of the patterned shawl, or maybe it was even T'Challa's words lingering in his wake: the ones were he made clear his hope for reconciliation and that after all that Bucky'd done, that he still found it in himself to wish peace for him above all else.

He was a good man. Of that, Bucky had no doubt.

Regardless, he was also certain the two would have more to discuss. He just wasn't sure if it was the sort of thing he wanted to sign up for another round of in public. Speaking of which...

"Yama?"

The Dora Milaje walking to his right turned her head to signal he had her attention.

"Thanks for coming along and-" he realized he'd said her name before he'd finished figuring out how to complete his thought in a way that fit what he was trying to express. What he wanted to say was Thanks for not bringing up Zemo or Madripoor with Mamma and Ch'toa. What he said instead was, "-that back there meant a lot. Thank you." Part of him wanted to stop, but Yama kept her eyes on his as they walked, as if she was waiting for him to continue, "I guess sometimes it's easy to forget the way time passed differently for some of us. For you and Mamma and Ayo, I mean."

"And Okoye," Yama supplied not a little too helpfully.

Bucky cringed without meaning to: The general was one woman he wasn't looking forward to having a confrontation about Zemo and Madripoor with, but he knew that conversation would come back around his way eventually, "Yeah, and Okoye." He paused, trying to recall what he'd been wanting to say, "Anyway. Separate from all the other stuff, I shouldn't have ghosted you either. You were always really kind to me and that was shitty on my part. I could have at least replied so you knew I was okay. I hadn't really stopped to consider how much worse it would feel for those of you that were left behind."

Yama actually stopped walking, and Bucky followed suit. She shook her head, regarding his eyes with an intensity that reminded him of Ayo, "I am still trying to understand who stands before me, because those actions you speak of were not the actions of the man I remember." She gestured back towards the café, "The one I saw with my own eyes back there just now, like a mirage from the time before."

Bucky lowered head shamefully, but did what he could to keep his eyes focused on hers, "Yeah. I realize that now and I'm working on it. I'm not expecting you to feel that things are suddenly okay between us. I just wanted you to know I'm going to try to do better."

Yama's voice was even as she responded, "Then you'd do well to search your heart on why you found yourself set on following those actions to their ends, because apologies will mean little if that rotten core remains." With that, she stepped forward and started walking again.

All things considered: that was fair. He'd take that.

"For that it's worth," Sam added to the conversation, his tone candid as he caught up to Yama, "It wasn't just you. Buck was fully-committed to equal-opportunity ghosting. Only decided to show up in my business when America decided to start up tryouts for their new poster boy."

Before Bucky could interject a word, Yama glanced across him to Sam for clarification, confusion apparent on her face, "You didn't give the shield to that pathetic man?"

Sam barked out a laugh at the very idea, "Hell no. I donated it to the Smithsonian before they went and loaned it out to Captain Asshole."

Yama chuffed, "Of course they would."

Apparently Sam saw this as his opening to air a follow-up thought, "While we've suitably established that numerous mistakes were made, and we also clearly should have stepped in to assist the three of you in Latvia rather than standing by or getting in your way, may I just say how much of an absolute pleasure it was to watch you solidly whoop that man's condescending, sorry ass? Right before you'd stepped in, he'd been strutting about, trying to pick a fight with me for no honest-to-god reason. I don't know if he wanted to prove he was more deserving of the shield or whatever but… man. I still get goosebumps just thinking about the three of you just shutting him down at each and every turn." He held out his arm, showing her, "See? Goosebumps. Swear to god."

This got the smallest of smiles out of Yama. "Our work is not always so… rewarding. But…" she let a fraction of her inner thoughts slip to the surface, "...If you only could have seen the look of pale disbelief on that man's face when I clutched the shield before him. Like a small child aching for their favorite bottle."

Sam spread his hands wide, "I'm telling you: Goosebumps. And with all respect to the shield: Rather you than him," he confessed seriously.

That smile of Yama's grew more pronounced as she calmly observed, "I wouldn't have minded seeing how it handled, but it suits you more."

That got a grin of appreciation out of Sam that Bucky saw fit to temper, "I mean, Sam's alright. The windows, though-"

He was the prompt recipient of a playful elbow jab just as they approached their destination: a massive, curved building shaped with glass and tiered red stone that spiraled skywards. The glass windows reflected the blue skies above, giving it an almost half-ethereal appearance. The central structure was capped off by a pair of towering precipices that jutted out like scalloped castle towers.

Bucky watched as his friend regarded the structure curiously, but remained perplexed on why he'd been brought to this particular location beyond the standing appreciation for Wakandan architecture, "It's a... nice building?" Sam ventured.

"Yeah," Bucky supplied helpfully, "But it's about what's inside the building, Sam"

"And what's that, Buck? You know I can't read the damn signs," Sam parroted right back tone-for-tone.

Bucky shrugged, doing his best to look nonchalant as he stepped towards the set of giant vibranium front doors, "I know you're not from around here, but I think you'll catch on pretty quick."

"Oku kungenxa yokukhunjulwa." This is due to be memorable, Yama said for Bucky's benefit alone as she stepped aside and watched Bucky open one of the doors while Sam stepped forward into the unknown.

"Umntu akanalo nofifi." Man doesn't have a clue, Bucky confirmed, letting that grin he'd been suppressing finally take over the whole of his face in one fell swoop.

Author's Remarks:

Thank you for all the wonderful comments and love. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and that your weekend is filled with banter with your own loved-ones.

I ended up breaking up this chapter into multiple parts because it was starting to get a bit too long and I wanted to make sure the next section can be self-contained. But that also means I should have the next chapter up within a couple days. ^_^

I think there is something sweet about Bucky really trying to just… better understand where Ayo is coming from beyond just the simple hurt and betrayal. That visual of him imagining the patio and the street around him just… stripped of half the people and devoid of so much joy really sends it home for me.

I also like that Yama is getting a firsthand look at Bucky trying to figure some of this out for himself.

And as always: I love writing their banter. Especially after a few particularly heavy chapters. 3

Also: I can't wait for you to see the location we're heading into! I've had this listed on my outline for as long as I can remember!

Written to a heavy amount of silence as well as "The Smithsonian," "An Old Friend," and "Natasha" by Henry Jackman on "Captain America: The Winter Soldier (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack), as well as "The Highlands" and "Carried Home" by Marcus Warner.

"Carried Home (feat. Kaitlin Ross, Tom Campbell-Paine" by Marcus Warner:

"Stay, in my shelter
Beneath, a bed of stone
Though tides, pull me under
I'll be carried, carried home
Grey shorelines, break the silence
With songs of rivers flow
And I see you, cross the ocean
But I will never go, I will never go
But I will never go, I will never go

Taken, through the open
To faceless, disarray
Crowded hallways, filled with colours
And rooftops, where giants play
In streets, we heard a calling
A house where, summers show
Burnt feet, and cities sprawling
But I will never go, I will never go
But I will never go, I will never go […]"