Winter of the White Wolf
Chapter 19 - Prenumbra
Bucky watched Sam make it exactly six steps inside before his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting and a wave of concentrated enthrallment washed over him. His feet came to a sudden stop mid-step, nearly causing the group trailing him inside to collide with him.
Yama and Bucky did the honors of politely ushering the family around the awestruck figure, which was good, because he wasn't sure how soon Sam'd remember his feet were capable of movement.
About twenty feet inside and four feet off the marble floor flickered the predatory outline of a massive blask and silver Wakandan jet that was suspended majestically in the open lobby before them. A plethora of projection-mapped displays rolled over it as various rudders and stabilizers moved in symphony with one another, like it alive and ready to take flight at any moment.
To either side of the sleek black jet were a series of animated holographic displays in a variety of different languages that welcomed visitors to the Wakandan National Aeronautics Museum.
Sam was standing so still that Bucky wasn't sure if the man was even breathing.
"If you aren't interested, we probably still have time to find a petting zoo or-" Bucky feigned.
A boneless hand waved in Bucky's general direction, "They have an Air and Space museum? Holy-" Sam managed to turn around and catch Bucky's attention, as if he needed confirmation he wasn't seeing things, "A whole museum?"
Bucky's grin widened as he walked past Sam and plucked a Kimoyo bead from the dispenser below the English display and tossed it underhanded to him, "If you keep that on you, it will automatically swap the nearest displays and playbacks to English. You're in for some surprises in how everything in here compares to basically anything you've ever read about the history of flight for the rest of the world. The short version is: Most anything you're thinking about right now: If Wakandans had any interest in it - the Wakandans did it first."
Captain America over there was clearly trying to process the implications of Bucky's statement, and was so overwhelmed he nearly fumbled the catch of the Kimoyo bead Bucky tossed him, but his mouth worked out a way to form words again, "...I'd never even thought about there being a museum."
"Well do you want to just keep standing there looking weepy or do you want to see it, flyboy?" Bucky supplied, smoothly gesturing to one of the adjoining rooms.
"You're still an ass," Sam managed with something akin to genuine affection in his voice before he stepped towards the nearest hallway, whose signage promptly changed languages to display "The History of Flight."
As they made their way into the next room, Yama saw fit to step away and give them a little space and privacy to enjoy the museum.
The History of Flight began in a narrow hall that outlined the Wakandan's earliest experimentations with flight, starting with simple wooden airplanes that progressively made way to more ornate lightweight crafts that were either pulled along by a string like a kite, or meant to throw and stay aloft for a short period of time like overgrown paper airplanes.
Displays below the models and replicas showed-off still photographs as well as interactive teaching aids outlining of the evolution of these initial designs as well as the men and women that continued to test to see how far they could be propelled off anything ranging from the savannah itself, to buildings and massive cliff-tops.
"...Some of these photos are from the 1700s," Sam slowly observed, his face still awash with wonder, "That's… over a hundred years before photography was even invented elsewhere."
"They beat us to manned flight and space too," Bucky pointed out. "Wait till you see their first planes."
Sam's eyes were wide as he shook his head, clearly overwhelmed, "I'd never even stopped to consider…"
"Right?" Bucky found himself smiling as he leaned on one of the railings in front of a display showcasing more examples of early flight, including a short clip of a child who couldn't have been more than ten smiling and running through the grassland while she pulled along a four-winged "plane" about the size of an East African Crane above her. It was painted in a pattern of grey, white, and black stripes with the red outline of a bird with outstretched wings added as a maker's mark along on the side of it. "Me neither. I remember when I first saw this place it was just… so much. I managed to make it to the Smithsonian in DC a few years before that. Back before the UN, I mean. I don't even remember why I went there to begin with, but I guess I was just hoping I'd remember… anything really. My mind was a mess back then," he admitted, "just a jumble of damaged goods."
He caught Sam glimpse his way with what he'd come to know as his I'm listening expression, so he continued, "I went there a lot. I hadn't really expected to see all those displays about Steve and the War. I guess I hoped it'd spark some memories or something, but not really. I saw the displays about Cap's best friend, but it was always like reading about someone else. I must have seen those placards and newsreels a hundred times just hoping I'd remember something that would make sense of anything. Instead the most I got was this weird sort of comfort knowing that Steve probably walked around that museum at some point too, even though I couldn't really remember him."
"Most of those museums weren't around way back when we were growing up, so concepts like the space race and the moon landing were new to me. It was just kind of nice to have something else to focus on that was raw information and didn't relate to me. Though being around crowds like that was sometimes unnerving since I had to try to stay one step ahead of HYDRA, because..." he let out a deep breath he didn't realize he'd been holding and just let the thought sit. "Anyway. When I arrived to Wakanda, the museums here definitely confused the hell out of my understanding of global history since they conflicted with the other stuff I'd read, but it was nice just being able to stop outside myself and learn about other people that'd come before, you know?"
Sam nodded, observing the nearest display with passing interest before glancing to Bucky and back, in what clearly read as one of Sam's I was considering asking for clarification about something, but…
"What is it?" Bucky asked, apparently not able to help himself from indulging Sam's curiosity.
"We always wondered what'd happened to you after HYDRA and S.H.I.E.L.D, and the helicarriers. Steve insisted you were the one that pulled him to shore and called in the SOS, but he had a one hell of a concussion so we wasn't sure exactly how much of that was grounded in reality and how much were just hopes and dreams."
Bucky was certain he must have made some sort of face, but he did his best to keep it as neutral as possible. This was one of those periods he and Sam, and honestly even he and Steve had just never really elaborated on: One of many grey areas of his life that he'd lived firsthand, yet wasn't entirely alive for. A confused passenger in a world he didn't understand.
"That wasn't really me," Bucky admitted awkwardly, "Back then, I mean. But yeah, whoever that was, he stuck around DC for awhile until Steve recovered and HYDRA picked up the trail."
"Huh. Had no idea," Sam admitted, turning back to the display.
"That's for the best, trust me. You probably wouldn't have found it comforting to know one or both of you were being observed through the business end of a sniper rifle most nights." He did what he could to loosen the growing tension he felt in his jaw, "And besides: I- he, whatever - wasn't close to a whole person then, and I wasn't sure I even wanted to be. I just knew I didn't want HYDRA to find me and put my brain back in a blender again." And then, he wasn't watching himself and said the quiet part out loud, "I am pretty sure I would have been willing to end things myself to prevent that."
He wasn't intending to share that last bit with anyone, Sam included, but the man immediately caught the morbid implication and swiveled his head around with a shocked, sympathetic look. Bucky saw fit to do them both the courtesy of turning his attention back to a display showcasing some early Wakandan glider designs as he silently counted to ten and tried to put distance between himself and that era in his life that sometimes seemed like a lifetime ago, but now and then, crept far too close for comfort. He didn't need to elaborate on the contingencies he'd made back then. There'd been so many contingencies.
Eventually Sam's soft voice broke the long silence that stood between them, and he felt a hand compassionately squeeze his shoulder, "I can't even imagine, Buck. I don't know what to say to that besides I'm sorry. That's truly awful."
Bucky felt his face twinge as he pushed down the flickers of memories from that time, preferring instead to distract himself with more treasured relics of technological wonder, "C'mon, the first powered aircraft is just around the corner."
Bucky appreciated that Sam let him have as much of his reflective silence as he needed as the two stepped into the next room, whose entrance was lined with a display about some of Wakanda's earliest motors and engines and the advancements thereof.
In addition to some artifacts nestled in well-lit cases, row of hands-on examples offered visitors the opportunity to turn cranks to bring the gears and pistons of model engines to life. As a child about six years old rotated the nearest wheel around, a secondary display initiated, forming a three-dimensional projection that provided a detailed x-ray view of how the numerous parts worked together in tandem to convert energy to power.
As the kid stood and listened, Bucky nudged Sam to pull out his Kimoyo bead. Once Sam'd dug into his pocket for it, Bucky reached over and rolled his thumb over it, prompting the programming inside to come to life with the English version of the audio feed directly inside the bead itself. He was sure Sam was already well-acquainted with how motors worked, but he'd probably want to catch the follow-up bit about how the Wakandans had learned to leverage vibranium as a fuel source in their early engine designs.
Bucky stepped past Sam, the kid, and his family to check if any of the other displays had been updated since he'd last been through this way a little more than five years earlier. Aside from a few new hands-on displays, the rest of the exhibit appeared mostly unchanged, and Bucky slipped around the corner to the next room to wait for Sam to catch up at his convenience.
The circular room had a domed central ceiling with a rotating display that flashed to life as Bucky approached. Set in the center behind a protective barrier of transparent vibranium glass was something that generally resembled a larger version of one of the ornate kites from earlier. The silvery form was about twenty feet across and had two pairs of wings that were offset at different heights on either side. Each of the larger forward wings was set with a large propeller that'd been etched with the names of each of the four brilliant individuals who had collaborated to piece together how humans could learn to take flight.
He'd stood and regarded the "Ilanga Khozi," the "Sun Eagle," countless times over the years, and each time, it felt like an almost holy experience to just imagine all the incredible innovation that it'd taken to get to this point. The trials and failures and focus that had led those inventors and those before them to come together and make something so beautiful and profound, and so unlike anything the world had ever seen.
Bucky was aware of Sam approaching from behind him, and he took up position to Bucky's left, leaning in to silently listen to the video presentation that was already well underway. Bucky made a gesture with one hand to start it from the beginning for Sam's benefit and settled in to listen to the presentation.
After a solid five minutes of detailed accounts of how the "Ilanga Khozi" came to be, Sam chimed in, "...The Wright Brothers were 1903, weren't they…?"
"At Kitty Hawk, yeah," Bucky confirmed, already well-aware of where this was headed.
"But they got this… this got off the ground near-to when… when the United States was founded, in 1793." Sam was reeling as he re-read the dedication date of the aircraft, "Oh my god. They probably had satellites in the air by the time we were making stone tools over here."
"Not quite," Bucky reasoned with a short laugh, "But if I recall, they developed cloaking tech at least sixty years before we'd even figured out radar."
"Oh. My. God." Sam repeated, obviously still trying to align the dates together in his head as the holographic display projected the next advancements made to the craft that allowed it to stay aloft for progressively longer periods of time. His voice was low as he leaned into Bucky, "You know, if this was literally anywhere else in the world, I'd tell you they were full of shit."
"Wild, huh?"
"Beyond," Sam confirmed. "Absolutely beyond. It completely redefines global history."
"They'll have to make a lot of room at the Smithsonian if they want to keep displaying some of their now historic runner-ups."
Sam sent Bucky a short laugh, "I'd almost say that sounds a hint un-American, but then I recall they respect that fine establishment showed my red, white, and blue donation so..."
"I'm sure you'll be whistling a different tune as soon as they decide to start displaying your old clothes there too, Cap." Bucky saw fit to add.
"Please no," Sam insisted, but Bucky was certain he saw a hint of something like pride in his friend's expression at the passing thought. Sam moved around the center of the room and stopped at the next set of displays, putting his elbows up on the railing while he listened to a recording that outlined the next evolutionary leaps forward that came soon after the Wakandans had first gotten airborne so many years ago.
Bucky grinned and leaned forward, planting his elbow on the railing next to Sam and cupping his chin in his hand while he listened to the familiar playback of the recording which outlined further advancements in propulsion and aerodynamics. Documentary video footage played along with it, complete with an expertly-crafted English playedback and a crisp closed-captioned overlay. There was even a recording of the incredible celebration the royal family had thrown to share the news with the surrounding tribes and their own scientists and inventors. "They've gotten even more visitor friendly over the years," Bucky observed, "I remember back when the audio was only available in Wakandan, Yoruba, Hausa, and some regional African dialects. I tell you what though: it made for a great way to learn the local languages."
Sam nodded, continuing to regard the aircraft in front of him with a hefty amount of solemn focus and almost religious respect.
"Place feels almost sacred, doesn't it?" Sam observed, as the family passed by them and moved into the next room. "I remember growing up reading about the Tuskegee Airmen and all they went through. I remember just telling myself if I worked hard enough, trained hard enough, maybe one day I could get my wings like they did."
His voice was soft, private, meant only for the man beside him, "And now you're telling me that the first people to soar weren't some brothers from the East Coast, but four black visionaries from Africa?" He shook his head, reflecting, "That… that is something I'm going to be feeling in my bones in ways I haven't even begun to process." He turned to regard Bucky seriously, "Thanks for showing me all this. It's absolutely incredible."
Bucky shrugged easily, but he was glad the detour had been so well-received, "It's the least I can do. I'm just sorry for dragging you into all the other stuff." He paused a moment before adding, "And if you want to head back, like back back so you don't have to be in the middle of the fallout, I completely understand. I'm sure Nomble would be happy to arrange a transport."
Apparently that earned him a solid shove comboed with a glower of pure disbelief, "Do you honestly listen to yourself sometimes?"
"What?" Bucky defended, rubbing his rib. He was honestly confused at what he'd done to deserve that reaction. He thought he was doing Sam a courtesy by offering him an out.
He caught Sam's steadfast expression as his friend turned to address him, "Your friendship's not a burden, man. Period. You need to stop making that your default." He made it a point to cross his arms like a bouncer ready to defend his statement if need-be. "And when are we going to talk about why you never mentioned much of any of this? Or why you never went back to Wakanda till now?"
The directness of the question caught Bucky off guard, but it wasn't like he hadn't seen it coming, he just… still didn't have a good answer. "It's complicated," Bucky admitted, hoping that might be sufficient for the moment.
"Yep. Got that. And?"
Bucky frowned, "I don't know I just…" He chewed on his thoughts, trying to pinpoint the crux of things, "I felt like a burden, I guess. I still do," he admitted.
"To who? The Wakandans?"
"Of course," Bucky said as if that much was blatantly obvious, "But that's not what I meant. It's..." he made a face, glancing around the room and seeing they were alone, he added, "...You really sure you want to go full counselor mode about this?"
Sam stepped over and put one elbow on the nearest handrail and leaned into it, unintimidated, "I'll follow your lead, Buck. Sometimes it just seems like your default approach is to try and squash whatever you're feeling in the hope it will just magically resolve itself." He had a way of being on the nose without being accusatory when he observed, "That's never worked for me, but how's it working out for you so far?"
Bucky chewed on his lip, trying to get a read on what he was even feeling then. He wasn't particularly sad, or even emotional, just… hollow. Like the very act of being in the museum was reminding him of things he hadn't quite connected before.
And he didn't like how those connections felt with the added perspective of the last day, no less the last few months.
And then Sam broke the silence that lingered in the air between them, "...Is this about Steve?"
Bucky's mouth flinched uncomfortably. God, how was that his first guess? Was it that obvious?
"Kinda? It's over simplified. I don't think it's fair for me to try and deflect responsibility for stuff like not returning calls on him."
"But?"
Bucky thought it was a good time to look anywhere else but at Sam, "But… I mean. He just... up and left after Thanos, you know?" He felt his tone of voice shift as he quickly went right in to defend Steve's solemn honor, "I wanted him to be happy, of course. I knew how important it was for him to go back and try to have the life that he'd always wanted, that was taken away from him. I never wanted to be the one to hold him back. I felt like he'd done enough on my account."
He was struggling to keep the emotion of his voice in check as he continued, but it felt important that Sam understand where he was coming from, "And it might sound selfish, it probably does, but we went through all that and I lose my best friend in the process. Okay. Fine. I'm not the only one who lost someone. I get it. I'm not asking for pity, but…." his eyes went to Sam's, either waiting for condemnation or hoping maybe he, of anyone might grasp some fraction of the complex hurricane of mixed emotions he was standing in the middle of, "But Steve didn't even give me the chance to show him who I'd worked so hard to become." He felt his lips quivering, but he had to throw the rest of it out there in the open before he lost his nerve, "I'd spent years, years, just trying to push forward, to sort shit out, to be better. And he didn't even want to stick around for a few months and get to know me."
He forced his eyes back up at an animated display of various alternative wing and rudder designs that trailed across the ceiling, as if the act of repositioning his head alone might hold back the tears that were threatening the corners of his eyes, "And then he left. You got his shield. I got handed his notebook. And … I just didn't have anything left but nightmares and a therapist who found a hundred different ways to tell me how I should be thankful for the pardon, because I was still damaged goods. So sure, I considered going back to Wakanda, but I felt like one way or another, either when my training was done or they learned Steve wasn't around anymore to be my advocate, that they'd abandon me just like he did."
"So I guess somewhere in the back of my mind, I thought it was easier to just stay one step ahead and avoid being in that kinda pain ever again," he flailed a trembling hand somewhere in what he hoped was Sam's direction, "I figured you were just pretending to be concerned on account of Steve and that you'd cut me loose as soon as you could, too. So I didn't see a point in feigning we were actual friends."
Sam started to say something, but Bucky cut him off, choking down a gulp of air as he continued, "I don't feel that way now, obviously, but back then I didn't see the point in anyone needing to be bothered pretending they didn't see the Winter Soldier when they looked at me, yourself included. Some days, that's still the first person I see in the mirror too." Bucky squeezed his eyes shut and made some noise he didn't even recognize.
"Christ, man. C'mere."
The next thing he knew, Sam had stepped forward and pulled him into a tight hug, and all the tears Bucky'd managed to valiantly hold back for months about Steve, and his plan, and his leaving just came out in a torrent of pain as he clutched his arm around Sam and clung onto him like a lifeline.
He squeezed his eyes together and allowed himself to fold over Sam's shoulder as one of his friend's hands ran in soothing circles about his back, comforting him wordlessly as he tried to catch this breath. It was so hard to breathe. How was it so hard to just breathe?
It was as if the simple act of him being there gave him permission to keep talking and release whatever horrors were pent up inside. He wasn't even sure if Sam could understand his trembling words, but it was like he couldn't stop himself from talking, he just wanted someone to understand. He'd had all these plans, all these hopes and dreams that he'd never spoken aloud because he worried doing so might jinx them, but now they amounted to nothing and everything at the same time.
"I wanted to show him Wakanda, to meet the people and places here and get to know them like I did, but he just always had other priorities. And I got that. But he didn't even visit. Not once. I told myself he'd been patient for how many years? So I could too. But then, when the dust settled, he just left." His voice cracked with a fresh wave of emotion, "He chose to leave. And then he had the gall to give me that book and tell me it'd help to get me back in the world and it was all going to be okay, but none of that was a substitute for him. I had so much I wanted to ask, so much to catch up on. I thought after all we'd been through -" He made a harsh noise and added "-but I'll never get answers, because he's gone."
He kept his eyes squeezed shut as he blubbered over Sam's shoulder, "I didn't care about trying to catch up on seventy years of cinema or music or whatever history facts and pop-culture garbage people recommended to him. I just wanted my best friend. I wanted someone who remembered who I was before all that. Before the torture, the experiments, the missions. Whoever that was. When Steve left, he took all of that with him, too."
"And I hate feeling this way about him," Bucky heard his own voice confess, "It kills me. I know he cared, and I want to remember the best parts of him, but it still hurts so much, Sam." He choked back a sob, "And I thought I was doing the right thing by -" he tried to take in a pocket of air in one gulp, "-and I just transferred that hurt to people here." He found himself backtracking as a different sort of guilt took hold, "And now I just keep thinking how I shouldn't even be saying any of this to you, of all people, because I don't want to tarnish Steve's legacy or make you think less of him or damage our friendship because I can't get over-"
And Sam cut right in and interrupted him from inches away from his ear. His voice was soft and compassionate, but had more emotion on the edges than Bucky would have expected, "First off: We're good. Don't let whatever your head is trying to tell you make you think otherwise. Secondly: It's okay to struggle with the concept that one Steve Rogers could have been both a great guy, but also a flawed person. You can be both things at the same time. It's called being human. You hear me, Buck? The man can be both. He was both."
Sam continued, "He could care the world about people, and still make shitty decisions that hurt those same people. Man was far from flawless, and you got a damn raw deal. You think I wasn't angry that he pulled that shit?"
Bucky pulled himself back enough that he could see Sam's face, and as he caught his breath, he used the brief break in the conversation to run the top of his sleeve over his face in a feeble attempt to try and clear the most egregious of the emotion from it.
But when he dared to regard his friend's face, he was surprised to see there were tears of frustration showing in Sam's brown eyes as well, "He did you the courtesy of warning you, but he just up and handed that shield over to me without even asking if I was interested in the weight of it. Just sprung it on me. What was I supposed to say to him? Tell him no? So yeah, I was angry at him for my own reasons, and I was pissed seeing you standing there like you just had to smile and suck it up and deal with the fallout of his decision like some obedient puppy-dog, too." Sam kept his eyes focused on Bucky's as he added, "And If we're both being honest, somewhere not-so-deep-down, I think I'm probably still angry with him for all that. I'm furious that he got to walk away scott-free and feeling like he got to dust his hands off and tie up loose ends and live in the fantasy that the people that cared the most about him weren't rightfully hurt by his actions."
"So yeah, Buck, I think he could've stood to have a conversation with me about the shield and tell me about his plans. And so we're clear, I'm not mad at you about that at all, because I'm sure his stupid, selfish ass swore you to secrecy about the whole deal and thought it'd be downright entertaining to see my reaction firsthand like I was being handed some carnival prize. But what the actual hell? We worked together for years, and I thought he respected me enough to owe me some courtesy and choice in the matter on something that big."
Bucky stood in stunned silence and sucked in a breath. He'd eventually come around to realize the burden they'd placed on Sam regarding the shield, but he honestly hadn't stopped to consider just how much it'd hurt Sam in the process, or that he had his own reasons for being upset with Steve.
Sam took a deep breath in and out, gathering himself before he continued, "And you? Man, you deserved to have your damn idyllic homecoming, to show him this incredible museum and every single person and place in Wakanda that meant something to you. He could'a spared a few weeks, or hell: a few months. You got a raw damn deal, and you have every right to feel however that makes you feel."
Bucky wasn't sure what to say to that, but he managed a little nod before Sam met his eyes and placed his hands on either side of his shoulders, "Like I said before, it doesn't matter what Steve thought, but I know he would have been proud of the person you've worked so hard to become. I didn't even need to know you when you were younger to know you're a worthwhile person and great friend here in the present, okay? And there's no one else I'd rather have as my partner. No one."
Sam said it so matter-of-factly that for a moment, Bucky thought maybe he was just being nice, but those steadfast eyes remained focused on him with solemn solidarity: he meant every word he'd said.
Partners. He remembered when he'd thought to try out the phrase back in Louisiana, and Sam'd quickly downgraded them to coworkers. Something'd changed, and there was nothing but conviction in his voice now.
"So you've got shit you're still trying to work out? Angry at someone who left you with the best of intentions? Join the club. But not only do you not have to go it alone, I'm here to remind you that I'm apparently one of a number of people that find your stubborn ass endearing to the point of being not only willing to put up with you and your quirks, but feel like you're damn worth the aggravation of fighting for."
Bucky had… no idea what to say to that. So he just swallowed and just stood there like a statue.
Sam kept on going, keeping his eyes leveled at Bucky's own, "And you know what I want? There is nothing more that I want right now in the here and now than for you, specifically you, to lead me around this blissful hall of technological wonders and tell me as much or as little about the displays or your time here in Wakanda or whatever you want to talk about. Because I'm all ears. And unlike our mutual friend: I'm not going anywhere, Buck. You got that?"
And with that, Sam gave his shoulders a compassionate squeeze and moved to stand beside him, slinging his hand over Bucky's shoulder as if he'd spoken his truth, that was all he had to say about that.
Bucky had to take a deep breath and choke something down. He was finding it difficult to stay focused, because somewhere in the back of his mind, he kept hearing the echo of the phrase I'm with you till the end of the line, replay in his head. There was a time the words and all they represented gave him comfort, but there was a more recent time where the sudden absence of the sentiment behind them left him with a feeling of endless, icy cold hurt.
But as he felt the weight of Sam's arm across his shoulders and chanced a glance to his left, he felt the man's conviction in those words, and for the first time since the helicarriers and the mission and the fight with Steve and solemn, singular fantasy of The end of the line... he actually allowed himself to believe that someone in the here and now meant it.
About, of all people: him.
Bucky felt like the moment deserved something more profound, but he was finding words slippery at the moment, so he settled with a simple, if hoarse, "Thanks, partner."
That must have been the right thing to say, because it got one of those personable ear-to-ear smiles out of Sam, who promptly clapped him twice on his good shoulder before he looked back up at the jet suspended before them, "Where to next, Buck? 'Ode to Innovation' or 'Hall of Heroes?' Or do you want to hang out here a little longer? No rush either way: I'm goin' wherever you're going."
Author's Remarks:
I've had a number of kind commenters mention that they really loved the visual of Bucky and the shawl so… I couldn't help myself from making a little piece of fan art with it that dovetails nicely with the start of this particular chapter.
Apparently I can't link-to or embed images here, however, so if you'd like to see it, you can hop on over to AO3 or my Twitter account to see it under the same username (KLeCrone) I hope you like it!
I feel like I could write a damn NOVEL about my feelings about how Steve and Bucky were portrayed in Infinity War and Endgame but I just… it's been years, and I'm STILL so frustrated by how that all went down. I get the idea of Steve going for his happily-ever-after, but arughghghghghh! I just felt so bad for Bucky being basically fresh out of Wakanda and just… left there on his own to figure shit out. Thanks for the honorary notebook of pop-culture, Steve?
So that being as it is: I'm leaning on that as a huge part of why Bucky was acting how he was at the beginning of TFATWS. I'm sure there are some layers of grief and loss rolled into there, but I'm viewing this whole thing with the Wakandans saying how hurt they were/are is probably the first time he's really forcing himself to question WHY he was so on dodging calls and ignoring well-meaning people that were trying to reach out to him (Sam included). Why was he so set on not reaching out to people? What was he afraid of?
Well… apparently he was afraid of being abandoned... again.
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But it's good he's started to piece some of that together, because there's definitely still more in that deep well of hurt worth exploring, and it's good Sam is there to genuinely try to help and support him. I think it's good that Sam also saw fit to share that Bucky isn't alone in a lot of those feelings, either.
Aside from that: I love, and I mean LOVE learning about air and space history. I've gone to every such museum I could find around the country and then some, including the Smithsonian, various space centers, Boeing, SpaceX, and more. I adore that sort of thing, and somewhere in mid-May I realized that Wakanda…. Would ABSOLUTELY have museums, and for anything with tech in particular, they must be absolutely astounding, so I have been just chomping at the bit to write this section, and it feels so wonderful to be able to share it with all of you.
Thank you again for all the incredible comments and support. It truly means the world to me, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!
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).
For the fan art, I had a "Bucky" playlist running with "Hold Me Up," by Sam Tinnesz, "Help Is On The Way," by Silverberg, "Gasoline," by Halsey, "No Sanctuary," by UNSECRET, "Close My Eyes," by The Unions, and "Gone Are the Days," by Kygo.
"Gone Are the Days," by Kygo
"[...] I thought that we'd grow old
Give kids all bad advice
Now I'm alone
You went and left me with these sleepless nights
You took my warmth and soul, left me with doubt and cold
Is this where I belong? [...]"