In the morning, the training room holds a certain kind of nostalgic beauty. Yellow light pours in from the skylights above, and the smell of leather is strong and fresh.
Steve had asked me to come talk to him, and as I descended the final flight of stairs, I spotted him beating into a punching bag the way he always did when he was stressed out.
"Hey, blondie," I said a few feet behind him. I guess he hadn't heard me come in because he looked startled as he turned to face me.
"Hey, Stel," he fixed me with his gaze. "I need help."
"Okay, with what?"
"You remember a few months ago, Sam, Nat, and I rescued my old friend, Bucky?"
"Yeah?"
"Well," Steve took a careful breath, "he's been released from SHIELD observation. He's being transported here, to the compound."
I gave Steve a confused look, "That's good news, right? He's better now, and he can live normally, yeah?"
Steve took off the wrapping around his hands and leaned against the boxing ring a few feet away, "Yeah."
"What are you so worried about?"
"He's just," Steve swallowed hard, "he's been through a lot. I was wondering if you wouldn't mind helping me make him feel at home."
"Steve, of course I will. My magic can probably help him too. I'm assuming he has a lot of mental trauma. I can help."
Steve closed the gap between us and gave me a firm hug, "That's what I was hoping you would say." He pulled back and held my shoulders at arms length, "He needs a friend, someone other than me. I think you'll get along."
"When will SHIELD drop him off?"
And just like that, JARVIS began speaking overhead, "Captain, there is a SHIELD transport outside waiting to be let in. Should I allow them entry?"
Steve looked at me and sighed, "Yeah, go ahead."
We made our way down the series of hallways and doors that would lead us to the driveway. I tried telling Steve that everything would be fine, but his mind seemed elsewhere. I eventually dropped it and let my mind wander too.
Steve had obviously shown the team pictures and videos of his friend, Bucky. I thought he was handsome. Steve said he was charming, had girls flocking to him at school, always had a date to take to the fair, frivolous actions like that. He seemed kind and thoughtful, and Steve spoke highly of him.
We had gone together to the Smithsonean and walked through the Captain America exhibit. It was therapeutic for Steve, but I think it hurt him in a way too. All of the friends he had left behind - Peggy, the Howling Commandos, Bucky; it was a constant reminder that he was not where he was meant to be.
To have Bucky back, to be able to laugh with him again, make plans together, it had to be that same mixture of elation and depression. And I couldn't fathom what Bucky must have been thinking. To have gone through what he did at the hands of Hydra, be tasked with killing his old friend who he didn't recognize, only to pull that friend out of the water and taken in by SHIELD in a time he didn't understand, it must have been so frightening.
But Steve trusted me to make Bucky's transition easier. Part of me knew it would be near impossible. How do you fix a man so fragmented and destroyed? He had been undone from the inside out. Every part of him had been manipulated and rebuilt. Nothing of James Barnes from 1942 remained intact.
Eventually, Steve and I exited the compound and were greeted by a convoy of SHIELD SUVs. An agent stepped out of the leading car and directed us to an SUV part a few feet away. The door swung open, and Bucky stepped out.
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This Is Stella's Reality
Fanfictionwe're just living in it. A collection of storytimes from my MCU desired reality. Each part is dated with when the event took place, so this will also act as a timeline of sorts.