Winter of the White Wolf

Chapter 20 - Footprints in the Dust

Sam was relieved to see that once they'd gotten moving again, Bucky appeared to be more grounded and present in the moment. The two of them walked beside one another while Bucky's blue eyes scanned over displays about advances in aviation, carefully reading text and inscriptions as they went rather than staring off unfocused into the depths of ceilings or reflections as he'd been doing only a few short minutes earlier. It was progress to be sure. Good progress.

There was a tangible change in the air between the two of them as well. As if somehow, during all that, they'd managed to soulgaze and came out the other side wiser for the strange bond it drummed up in its wake.

It also probably hadn't hurt that Sam'd finally felt the presence of mind to inform one James Buchanan Barnes that he'd finally accepted his half of their official, unofficial blood pact. There'd been only one other person in his life that he'd dared to call a partner, and not even Steve'd been that to him, though they'd certainly been close.

He missed Riley. He always would. You could never replace someone like that. Never.

But he also realized he couldn't continue to let the fear of feeling that sort of harrowing loss again prevent him acknowledging what was abundantly clear was right in front of him. He hadn't said the words because of some debt or obligation to Steve or because Bucky clearly held out hope that their odd-couple-like friendship was more than a passing blip on life's winding radar. No, he'd said it because he meant it with every part of him - That he knew Bucky had his back just as fiercely as he had his. That in this crazy world of gods, aliens, wizards, and enhanced people of all colors, shapes, sizes: that when they had nothing else, they had each other to rely on.

And that was just how that was going to be from here on out.

Partners.

Beyond that solemn statement of fact, it wasn't as if either of them had outright avoided mentioning Steve by name, but they'd both done an impressive circuit around actually talking about the man in question these last few months. Rogers was a trickier topic than most, and Sam'd actually concluded he was set to go to his grave and never say a stray word about Steven Rogers. The last person he'd thought appropriate to broach the topic with was the man's childhood best friend, but it'd been the right thing to do in that moment. Both for him and Bucky as well.

Much as it made that latent frustration surrounding Steve rise up in him anew, it felt surprisingly freeing to just be honest about someone, rather than treating them like a solemn saint because they weren't around to defend themselves. It wasn't about diminishing the memory of him or who he was to a lot of people, but finding a sort of peace with who he was in life: warts and all.

The thing that'd surprised Sam most was that he thought he'd been able to shuck off a lot of his feelings after the fiasco with the shield, yet apparently he still had a pit of anger in him for the man, though it was a peculiar kind that probably no one outside of Bucky would ever be able to really grasp with two hands.

It was easy to be blindly angry at someone, but it was an altogether different story to be angry at someone, while maintaining with every part of you that you still loved them like a brother, and that if they were still around, you'd probably be right back to working with them again whether you could help yourself or not. Steve was just that kinda guy.

It was maddening.

"Did you see how they layered in air pressure regulation in the early flight suits?" Bucky observed, pointing to the second in a row of five Wakandan flight uniforms, each more colorful and streamlined than the next with animated labels that explained how this particular set was developed in coordination with the nearby tribes. "You can see where the attachment latches onto the helmets along the side there."

Thank god for Bucky Barnes and his excellent sense of timing.

"I'm surprised they even needed it that early in their little alternative history lesson here," Sam remarked, "I didn't think they would have been able to get much altitude gain."

"Compared to the Wright Flyer? Have you seen the cliffs here?"

"Obviously, but only from a distance."

Bucky whistled lightly. The gesture was an easygoing one as he glanced around the room, apparently trying to locate a photograph that captured the sort of towering vista he was speaking to. He moved across the room in and flicked a finger through a virtual rolodex of photographs and stopped on one in particular. To Sam's eyes, the closest frame of reference he had was if the Grand Canyon was not only multiple times deeper and wider, but also sprawling with lush greenery. "You've gotta take the wings out there at some point. Near Mount Kanda, though there are other great ones too. You'd love it. The city view has height to spare for sure, but the natural formations are something else. There are a lot of native birds and other wildlife up there, and you could play tag with eagles or whatever till your heart's content."

Sam honestly hadn't spared a moment to think about this as some sort of scenic vacation, but there was something appealing about even the passing thought of getting the wings out and just breathing in some fresh air. The sky had a way of making everything seem smaller: worries included, "Maybe we can run some tandems at some point if you want to."

There was a hint of that charming smile of his, "Here I thought you were going to offer to carry me. Last time I go through the trouble of arranging a fancy new surprise like that without trying it out myself first."

Sam snorted, "Believe me: I would have liked to have seen you try more than most."

"Not that I would have been able to get enough of it on to call it a suit. You being so delicate and aerodynamic and all."

"Delicate?"

"You know what I mean."

"I most certainly do not." Sam crossed his arms, but his voice was all play, "So what's that supposed to make you, huh?"

Bucky waffled, "Whatever the opposite of that is, because you're certainly not seeing me wearing a glorified vibranium spandex wingsuit. Besides: while I got regular updates to my flight training over the years, specialized stuff like that wasn't exactly on the menu."

"I didn't realize you flew," it was meant as a statement, but he caught the slight change in Bucky's expression the moment he'd said it.

Maybe it was the conversation from earlier, maybe it was the fact they were walking in an aeronautics museum in a foreign country, or maybe something in Bucky's mind was feeling more receptive to sharing. But whatever the reason, the man beside him remarked, unhindered, "He did. Russian. German. American, mostly. I had some training with some of the styles they use here courtesy of Ayo and Okoye mostly, which yes: before you ask, can be operated one-handed." There was a pause as he gestured for Sam to follow him into the next room of wonders, "I… had something of a reputation."

Sam raised an eyebrow as he kept pace beside him, curious, "Oh?"

There was a little smile on the corner of Bucky's mouth, the sort of smile that had stories to spare that went along with it, "I never broke anything, technically, but-"

"-But you most certainly enjoyed pushing our designs to extremes most others wisely shied away from."

Shuri.

It felt like the tone of the open room suddenly dropped out beneath them as Bucky's expression vanished back into itself and his head swiveled in her direction.

The Wakandan princess had stepped out from around an unmanned transport display with a rather satisfied smile settled across her face. She was dressed in what probably could be considered street-clothes, but Shuri's take was so fashion forward that the vibrant purple, navy blue, umber, and gold vest she was wearing looked more like it belonged in a museum display. Her hair was woven into an ornate knotwork of beaded twists that trailed off into a fine strand that ran behind her shoulders. She was flanked to either side by one of the royal family's signature accompaniments of Dora Milaje, which in this case Sam was unsurprised included Yama and Ayo.

It was clear from Yama's expression that she was back on-duty, but Sam watched her observant eyes glance between Bucky, Ayo, and Shuri specifically. He was impressed how neutral she was able to keep her expression all things considered, because Ayo's face remained narrowed with an intensity that reminded him of an even stricter version of Okoye, if that was somehow possible. He remembered a time not long ago when the Doras seemed more like a blur of faces than actual people, and he was finding it intriguing starting to get to know them as individuals.

For instance: He'd developed an understanding that was Ayo's I'm still bonafide pissed at that man, but I'm going to shove it down because I'm working - look.

He recognized that one from Latvia.

Shuri offered he and Bucky a little tilt of her head as if to acknowledge the elephant in the room, and she went in for, "Good afternoon. I hope you both slept well." Sam noted that it wasn't a question, "I take it you're enjoying our museum?"

Beside him, Bucky was doing his best to try to make a human expression with his face, but his hyper-vigilant eyes kept darting between Ayo and Shuri and back again, as if he was bracing for what might come his way next. Sam felt pretty sure no one was about to have it out for him in the middle of a damn museum, but he also respected that wasn't due to make this any less awkward after what'd been seen and said the night before.

Sam decided it was on him to respond, "The first two halls, yeah." He made a gesture with one hand as he looked out into the massive hanger they'd just stepped into, "I don't even know where to begin. It's sizably incredible, and bigger than most of the ones back home."

Shuri smiled graciously, a pleasant blending of a diplomat's warmth with her own unique brand of scientific enthusiasm that rippled just under the surface, "We stand on the shoulders of visionaries and dreamers that came before us. Come, you should at least see the newest exhibit before we head out. Her alert eyes traveled back to Bucky's own, "It was added since you were last here."

There was something sweet and almost tender that Shuri was mindful of such things. The fact that she was trying to reach out to Bucky had a twisted way of making Sam angry about Steve and the fallout from his decisions all all over again, but he quieted that thought for no as he waited, intentionally forcing Bucky to take the lead rather than slip into that dynamic that he follow along like a soggy puppy dog.

Bucky caught the delay in Sam's step and sent him an I see what you're doing, Wilson - look before he moved forward to close the distance between himself and Shuri. His initial steps were timid, as if he remained subconsciously nervous that being too close to either she or Ayo, and the possibility that their proximity might insight more pain, but it was clear from where Sam was standing that at least Shuri wasn't presently interested in rehashing from the night before. Ayo was a deal harder to read, but it was abundantly clear she still had words for Bucky somewhere not-so-deep down in those focused brown eyes of hers.

"Don't look so worried," Shuri said quietly as Bucky came up a few steps behind her. Her voice was calm and gracious, "We'll talk about those other things another time, not now. We're not about to have a sporting match."

Least she can read the room. Now c'mon, Bucky, say something. Don't go all silent on her. She's obviously trying.

"Thanks. I do want to talk sometime later, though. I don't want to leave things like we did."

There were a lot of subtle emotions spread on Shuri's face all at once, but Sam was certain he saw that same glimmer of hope he saw in Yama's eyes earlier. The one that said she hadn't given up on Bucky entirely yet, "Of course. Now come on, you're going to want to see this." She made an appreciative gesture to him, adding, "The shawl suits you. Matches your eyes."

That was a start.

It was all Sam could do to keep his feet moving as Shuri led them past towering monuments of vibranium wonder when every part of him was screaming there was knowledge rampant all around him if he'd only just slow down and stop and read. He knew it wasn't the time, but holy hell: he'd absolutely be back. He could easily spend a whole day here, if not more. They hadn't seen more than a glimpse inside the first level of the main hanger, and there were at least two more floors as well as a whole wing on space exploration they hadn't even stepped foot in. There was so much that was identifiable as one thing or another: a plane, a jet, a suit, a rocket, but there was so much more that was pulled from a completely foreign encyclopedia of visual history, and he was aching to know more about those as well. There was even a whole section about the evolution of their drones.

Shuri tapped something into the air above her wrist as they strolled forward, apparently the Wakandan version of texting and walking, but when they were about ten feet past some sort of Voltron-looking upright jet (what!?), something sparked her attention and she pivoted, pointing to Bucky's wrist. "Oh! I'd nearly forgotten. Your Kimoyo Beads: Give them here."

For a moment Bucky clutched them, tepid as if he was fearful Shuri might be taking them away from him just like Ayo'd done with the arm. The genius before him made an impatient grasping motion with her hand, "I'm not keeping them. You probably hadn't updated them here since the Decimation, have you?"

Bucky twisted his face but complied, miming a diagonal motion with two fingers that set the beads free so they detached and fell into his palm, "No?"

"Of course you haven't." She smoothly plucked them from his hand and placed them in her own palm as she flickered over readings over the lighted strands around her wrist and continued walking. "Your tech is at least five years out-of-date, but this will bring it back to the current update. When the dusted tech came back online after we returned, it caused problems with a lot of systems, including the storage. The Design Group added in a protocol so it wouldn't backdate or overwrite any of the data automatically, but the merging was another issue altogether."

Sam was doing his best to follow, but Shuri had a way of talking levels above him as far as tech went. She wasn't doing it to show off or be the least bit condescending: this was just part of who she was and how she operated, on some distant plane with other people that thought in code and had to actively translate from there to communicate with the rest of the world. Even Banner was dwarfed by the gap in her brilliant way of thinking, and that was saying something.

Even when she made a decided effort to try to relay concepts with people on Sam's level, the difference between their working knowledge and understanding of core concepts sometimes felt like he was seeing the world drawn in crayon, whereas she could not only peer into the full spectrum of science and wonder of the world, but she could wield their natural forces as easily as he walked.

It was something incredible, and wings aside: the world was better for it.

"Onboard storage or cloud storage?" Bucky asked. Apparently he was still following. That made exactly one of them. Good for him.

Shuri waved a hand as she continued walking without looking up as she carefully inspected the black beaded strand with expert eyes that could clearly see things they could not, "Storage within the nanites themselves as well as a sync with the cloud storage that was running before, during, and after the Decimation."

Sam found himself asking, "The what now?"

Shuri sent Sam a wide grin that had a playful, mock-condescending edge to it as she finished whatever she was doing and, satisfied, handed the beaded strand back to Bucky. He offered a quiet, "Thanks," as he replaced the Kimoyo Beads onto his wrist in an apparent attempt to not distract from Sam's inquiry, but Sam was pretty sure his friend was at least two or more steps ahead of him.

She patiently addressed Sam, "When the Decimation happened, information that was usually held or transmitted to those on the other end obviously stopped working properly while half of us rested with our ancestors. Rather than let that stand, some from the Wakanda Design Group decided it would be apt to continue to collect existing and all new data so that if at such a time the other half returned, then the systems would be able to blend and properly merge the three streams of data seamlessly together rather than risk them not working at all or having the merging conflicts irrevocably impact the data. Corrupted data. Overwritten data. Seemingly infinite lines of code that the scientists could only guess at because there was little way to test such contingencies without having access to the devices or their behavior from beyond the veil of the ancestors."

"Why not just overwrite that with the latest version? Isn't that what you just did?" Sam asked, not following.

Shuri gave him that same smile he was sure he gave his nephews when they asked him a basic arithmetic question, "It is far more complex than that. Kimoyo Beads are not simply archaic cell phones, Sam, but it's cute to think of them as such."

Bucky cleared his throat, "They had cell phones before-" he started to supply helpfully.

"-Probably before we had electricity or something. I get it," Sam muttered with what he hoped sounded like respect.

Yeah, Shuri was definitely smiling at that.

Bucky regarded the beads around his wrist curiously, imploring Shuri for clarification, "So while half of us were gone, the other half captured everything and stored all the supplementary telemetry data too?"

Shuri nodded, appreciative of someone who was able to follow her line-of-thought, "As well as one-way, for those who were left behind."

"...Oh. Oh wow."

Sam had to imagine the storage requirements for that kinda data must have been a herculean feat to be sure, but that still didn't begin to explain the peculiar expression that settled over Bucky's face just then. His friend nervously rubbed his fingers together before rolling his hand palm-up and made a gesture with his fingers that pulled up a floating overhead display.

The nuance of that particular user interface wasn't one Sam recognized, but as Bucky swiped his thumb from one side to the next, he watched as pages and pages of thumbnails appeared across consecutive date-stamped albums. Photos. Movies. Videos. Faces of not only people he recognized, but many more he didn't. Certain faces popped up frequently: Ayo, Yama, Mamma, Okoye, as well as younger faces, including children about Cass and A.J.'s age, and still others.

There were pages upon pages of silent recordings and snapshots, ranging from photos of food, faces, pets, scenic shots, and even the occasional goat selfie: Yes, that was absolutely Yama taking a goat selfie.

Bucky might as well have been in another world, because Shuri was saying something, and even Sam wasn't listening anymore as he watched Bucky just… flip through page after page as he sorted things through years of time, and ever-closer to the present day. Slowly, the uploads got less frequent as interest in sending messages to an unseen void apparently tapered out, the people no-doubt finding a way to move on with their lives and let grief run its natural course. But even though there were greater jumps between entries and messages, one face continued to appear when all others had finally ceased.

Ayo.

Even in the midst of the fifth year of the Blip, she continued unwaveringly to leave Bucky messages.

Bucky didn't allow any of the audio on the messages to play back, but the moment of realization was clear on his face. Only a few steps away, the woman in question did an impressive job of impersonating a solemn statue, as she kept her head tilted at an angle that allowed her to watch the proceedings without needing to do so much as turn her head.

Nearby, Yama's face was all quiet compassion, but her gaze remained focused particularly on Ayo: she must have caught sight of the faces too.

When the date flicked over to the day Bruce had brought the vanished back and Tony made his final sacrifice so the world could be set right, a flood of new and old faces returned to Bucky's feed: Shuri, T'Challa, Ch'toa, and others.

He slowly, shakily lowered the display and turned it off.

And then he just stood there, numbly looking at his wrist.

"You would have already received those last ones from after the Decimation once your beads reconnected the global system," Shuri offered compassionately.

"If he'd cared to watch them," Ayo supplied cooly, speaking the first words she'd said since the night before.

Ouch.

Shuri looked between the two of them in what Sam clearly interpreted as an Not now, Ayo - request, but the Dora Milaje just shrugged, unconcerned.

Sam wasn't sure Bucky was breathing, but he really didn't think this was the time or place for all this to turn into a thing right then and there, so he saw fit to step in, "Thanks. I'm sure Bucky appreciates the updates and being able to get caught up with all that stuff he missed." Not somewhere that far away in his own mind: he felt a renewed pang in his chest for what Sarah must've gone through those years as well. He probably owed her more than he'd given her on that front, and he made note to have a talk with her the next time he was back home.

A foot or so to his right, Bucky looked like he was trying to catch Ayo's eye and decide between the virtues of staying upright versus just allowing his body to slink back to a fetal position somewhere in the center of the floor, but Sam wasn't going to have any of that. Time to take charge! Channel that eagle and pine-needle-infused Captain America energy or whatever. Your move, Wilson.

Based on Shuri's expression, he felt convinced he had an ally in wanting to avoid Bucky going back to that dark, sunken place, so he looked to the princess in a very specific plead for camaraderie, "You said we only have time for one more stop before we have to go for today. What did you have in mind?"

What Shuri had in mind was something called "The Roswell Rescue."

Yes, that Roswell.

"So… it was real?" Sam heard himself say before his brain had fully clicked into gear and caught up with the rest of him. Bucky was doing that following thing again, but at least he was staying upright just off to Sam's side. Now and then, he was even glancing up to look at the exhibit.

Mostly: he kept looking over to Ayo, who walked to Shuri's side and was doing a rather elegant job of giving him the silent treatment.

"One of our jets was on a reconnaissance mission when it malfunctioned and lost altitude," Shuri explained, "The pilot and crew survived the impact, but it quickly became a search and rescue mission. Much of the world had just stepped out from wartime, so it made the international rescue… complicated. We couldn't well allow the Americans to be aware of Wakanda or our technology, so a decision was made that it would be be more plausible to play it off as something a bit more… fantastical."

Sam open and closed his mouth as they made their way around a Wakandan craft that had apparently crash-landed in July of 1947 in Roswell, New Mexico, and became something of a popular point of science fiction in his part of the world, and, he was learning, a topic of great consternation here in Wakanda. Nearby, there was a scale model of the stripped-down dummy "ship" as well as some examples of the extreme lengths that the Wakandans had gone in order to set-dress the whole crash site with curious objects that were planted there shortly after the crew was rescued.

"But…"

Bucky was looking over the display with a mix of expressions, but apparently the sight was enough to get his mouth working again, "I remember you telling me about this way back, but I don't think I'd realized your folks literally pulled a switch-aro with the one that crash landed there."

Shuri smiled, "It wasn't easy, but the cloaking tech didn't hurt. Considering what'd happened in recent wars of the time, the King thought it prudent to try to obscure the actual event with a false trail. No one expected anyone would actually buy into it wholeheartedly, and for so many years after."

"Until aliens were suddenly real."

The corner of Shuri's mouth perked upwards, "Until aliens were suddenly real," she agreed, leading Sam around the room with an ever-present Ayo to one side and Yama to the other.

"You folks singlehandedly prompted the creation of entire branches of government investigation. Entire facilities," Sam observed, dumbfounded.

There were other visitors in the room as they walked, but Shuri made it a point to give the other guests space to wander at their leisure, obviously preferring to take a subtle approach over trying to throw her status around. Sam liked that about the Wakandans.

Bucky, for his part, had seen fit to shuffle himself off to one side of the main room and had apparently decided to take up renewed interest in his Kimoyo Beads. He stood playing with the heads-up display as he made quick gestures with his thumb and forefinger.

It took Sam longer than he would have liked to piece together what was happening, but eventually he keyed into the fact that one of the beads along Ayo's wrist lit up a moment after Bucky's fingers paused their movements. She discreetly toggled off the illuminated notification and chose to ignore it in favor of accompanying her charge. Eventually, curiosity must have gotten the best of her, because she spared a moment to glance down to her wrist, read something, and then looked back to where Bucky was patiently standing. Her expression was narrowed, but not full of the rage Sam remembered from the night before.

Sam and Shuri would walk a few steps as she gave a more detailed overview on events surrounding Roswell and Wakanda's international exploits of the era, while all the while Ayo and Yama kept watch for trouble.

Now and again, Ayo would make a few gestures with her slim fingers with practiced, almost supernatural ease and return her full attention to her post. It happened so quickly it was easy to miss.

It was like the Wakandan version of two students secretly passing notes in class, and Sam couldn't help but find it a bit endearing, mostly because sure: They looked to be knee-deep in staggered conversation with one another, but whatever was being said was apparently getting them to talk. Albeit, it was in a round-about manner, but it was still talking, and Bucky wasn't looking like he was on the verge of shutting down either, so that was a net win as far as he was concerned.

Shuri was clearly aware of the game that was transpiring not far from the two of them, but the conspiratorial expression she shared with Sam told her she was content to let it play out. Sam hadn't spent a lot of time around her, but it was clear why Bucky thought so highly of her: Not only was she brilliant factually speaking, but she had a certain empathy about her that was an even more important quality in a person.

When he looked at her now, he was finding he wasn't defaulting to "Foreign Diplomat," or "Wakandan Royalty" or "That brilliant woman that gifted me the wings," but it was almost like he was getting the opportunity to get to know some of Bucky's extended family, albeit: In the middle of a downright mess, but that wasn't unique to any one family either.

You could learn a lot about people in times like those, too.

So he kept on walking and talking with Shuri and her boundless enthusiasm about Roswell and aviation and American and Wakandan history while the two of them bought Bucky and Ayo a little time to do their own thing.

Besides: there was still a lot left to see in the exhibit, and Sam was going to drink up every moment he could of this incredible place.

[Author's Note: The following exchange is offered as a series of text messages. It plays out much better with how I visually coded it if you want to look for this chapter over on AO3/Archive of Our Own. I spent the better part of two hours coding it there... only to realize my options over here are much more limited, alas!]

Bucky:

Hey

I'm terrible at this texting stuff but I figured continuing to ignore that it's a problem I have isn't going to help things. So now I'm texting you.

You don't have to respond. I know you're working.

I can tell you don't have your strands on silent, though.

At least you didn't block me.

Anyway. There's a lot we should probably discuss when you're up to it. Assuming you're up to talk. I know I really messed up.

I don't know how I can even begin to make it right, but I just wanted you to know I'm going to try.

And that I'm going to keep on trying for as long as it takes.

Ayo:

I'm surprised you even remember how to use your Kimoyo Beads.

Bucky:

Okay, I deserved that.

But it also hasn't been that long for me.

I hadn't stopped to think through that it wasn't the same experience for you.

I can't even imagine.

Not at all.

So I'm sorry for that too.

I didn't get it.

Ayo:

You didn't even try.

Bucky:

I didn't.

But I'm trying now.

And I'm going to start by watching all the stuff I missed tonight.

I know that's not going to begin to make things whole, but I want to try and understand.

I realize I hurt you, and Shuri, and others.

And failed you on a lot of fronts.

Probably in a hundred different ways I'm not even aware of.

Ayo:

More.

Bucky:

Okay: more.

But what would you have me do?

Where do I even start?

Ayo:

You can start by figuring out who you want to be.

Because those were not the actions of the man I thought I knew.

But a stranger in an antelope's hide.

And worse: a stranger feigning to be the very predator they claimed to want release from for so long.

Bucky:

I obviously didn't think that through.

Ayo:

You thought it through enough to play dress-up with that murderer and drag this poor man along with you.

Bucky:

I already acknowledged I messed up in unfathomable ways.

Ayo:

That doesn't even begin to describe the shame you should carry with you.

Bucky:

Can we save some of this for when we talk in person later?
Are you open to that?

Ayo?

Ayo:

Fine.

Bucky:

I'm sorry.

Ayo:

I don't know if things can ever be made right between us.

Bucky:

I know.

I'm sorry.

You asked me who I want to be.

If I'm being honest: I'm still trying to figure all that out, and could probably use your guidance now more than ever.

If you were open to it, I mean.

Because I didn't intend to stray as far as I did, and I never want to do that again. Ever.

Anyway.

You never gave up on me.

And I want to be the sort of person that doesn't give up on the people I care about either.

My life's better for having you and the others in it.

I'm sorry I lost sight of that.

And that I've had a shitty way of showing it.

Ayo:

Yes.

You have.

... But I'm still here.

Now stop messaging me long enough to enjoy the exhibit. Shuri's been dying to show you the false relics they buried in the desert to fool the Americans of your time.

And then go buy your friend some Aeronaut ice cream at the gift shop.

Bucky:

Is cookies and cream still the best flavor?

Bucky:

Of course it's still the best flavor.

We're not savages, James.

Author's Remarks:

So I wanted to try something a little different here at the end and feel it out. Hopefully the message-like coding works!

While I don't think text messages are the new prose, I felt like there was something unique I wanted to capture between Bucky and Ayo. On one hand: It's a convenient way to avoid her presence physically bearing down on him, but in another way: sometimes you can express yourself in text in ways that you can't trust your voice to convey out loud. So after months of dodging her… he's reaching out to her in a similar manner that he should have responded to her to begin with.

In any case, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I was really struck by the idea that people could have been recording messages for people during the Decimation, and the idea of Ayo just... continuing to do so long after others had given up hope said a lot about her. It makes me wonder if Bucky gets some of his stubbornness from her.

Also Yama goat selfies confirmed.

Likewise: Now you can drink-deep from my all-new head-canon for the UFO crash that took place in Roswell, New Mexico in July 1947!

We're… 20 chapters in. Hoooow? How did this happen?! I had NO idea I would be diving into this fandom, community, and story so deeply a few months ago, and I would have it absolutely no other way. I have so much more I want to share with you, and it means so much to me to have company on this crazy ride. Thank you for all the kind words and encouraging comments along the way.

I hope all of you enjoyed this chapter! I'd love to hear your thoughts, as we're soon going to be transitioning back to weave in some other meaty plot threads…