The Engineer (Bucky Barnes x OC)

Chapter 11- You didn't understand me though, right?

After about 10 minutes, the door clicked again.

"How'd it go?" I asked, not looking up from my blueprint.

"Hmm?"

Realizing that it was Bucky who'd walked in, I quickly set down my pencil and glanced up. He was dressed and looked like he'd showered, too.

"Hey! Good morning! I thought you were Shuri," I said, clearing up the confusion.

He nodded, taking a few steps forward while cautiously examining the tools and scraps of metal and paper around him.

"You can come in, if you want," I added. "Sorry if I... didn't clarify that. I haven't actually started building anything yet,"

Bucky took a few more steps forward, weaving around tables to get to an empty desk chair somewhere to my left. He was silent the whole time, as though lost in his own thoughts.

"Uh... are you okay?" I asked quietly.

He nodded, then shook his head.

I set down all my stuff and pulled up a chair next to him.

"What's wrong, Bucky?" I asked.

"Nothing's... wrong," he stated. "I... If you don't mind, I have a question,"

"Go ahead," I prompted.

He let out a breath. "Was that you?"

I was quiet for a second, trying to contemplate what he meant by that.

"Talking to me," he clarified. "Last night. Was that you?"

Panic jumped at me. Could he hear me? Could he understand me?!

"Er- what did you hear?" I asked slowly.

"Well... in my dream, I was back with Zemo... he was trying to trigger me... but then I couldn't hear him and it was another person talking, but it wasn't in Russian, it was... well, I'm not sure what it was. It sounded Latin. But anyway, I was wondering if that was you talking to me or my imagination,"

My thoughts were cruising. He'd been getting triggered in his sleep? I stopped him from attacking everyone?!

Most of all, THANK THE VIRGIN MARY HE COULDN'T UNDERSTAND ME!

"Y-yeah," I muttered. "Yeah, that was me. Your heart rate was spiking,"

He nodded slowly. We sat in silence for what felt like forever before he whispered, "Thank you,"

"Y-your welcome," I replied. "I was just doing my job,"

"Sure, but you didn't have to," Bucky argued. "You could've ignored it. You could've told yourself that I'd have been fine and left me alone. You could've left the room if that would've made you more comfortable. You could've saved yourself and let me get triggered. But you didn't,"

There was a long pause.

"Instead of saving yourself, you chose to save me. The Winter Soldier, an infamous Russian assassin who would've ripped your throat out if I'd have gotten triggered and never been able to think twice about it. Why?" he said, his voice no louder than a whisper. "Why would you risk your life to try to save mine?"

I was silent for a while. He was opening up to me, showing his thoughts to me, and I didn't want to say the wrong thing or come off like I'm dismissing him.

"...well..." I stammered quietly, "...I like to believe that when we get those words out of your head, you'll be the one saving my life,"

Bucky snorted. "You think I'll be eligible to fight with the Avengers? I've certainly fought against them,"

"Yes," I told him firmly, leaning forward so I could meet his stunning blue eyes. I held his gaze, hoping I wasn't going pink. "Yes, I do believe that you'll be able to be pardoned and make amends, one day. I do think that just because you've messed up... well, I don't think that should ever stand as a barrier to you,"

He looked away, avoiding my eyes. I sighed.

"Bucky-"

"Why are you being so nice?" he asked softly. "I- I know it's your job, but you were never hired to counsel me like this,"

I let a pause soak into the air around us.

"...Because... because... because I want you to heal," I said feebly. "Because I know that you didn't mean to do any of it. You don't deserve the trauma,"

He shook his head sadly. "You have no idea,"

"Maybe I do," I said weakly.

Bucky cast me a sideways glance. I cleared my throat.

"My- my dad- he... he was a pilot," I told him in a quiet, subdued tone. "He would test out planes and jets. He loved his job. He was great at it, too, and brilliant. He even taught me how to build a mini plane, too,"

Bucky was silent, his soft gaze locked in mine.

"And um... when I was a kid... he was hired by a company to test out a plane,"

I could feel tears starting to crawl into my eyes. I tried to shove them back, but they surged forth.

"He got in... drove around a bit... and suddenly... he lost control,"

I felt my voice breaking, cracking. Tears slipped from my eyes.

"The people on the ground were shooting the plane," I said, my tone turning angry, "And the plane began to go down... until it landed in a lake,"

Bucky's eyes were glistening with concern and shock.

I gulped back the sobs in my throat. "Three days," I whispered. "It took them three days to find his body,"

Bucky's eyes drifted down.

"Why did they do it?" he asked after some somber silence.

"Because he married my mom," I whispered. "She was Latina, and he was Caucasian. Apparently, not everyone's okay with that,"

Something flickered through Bucky's eyes- anger.

"They killed him because he loved a woman?" he demanded, then scowled. "That's the stupidest reason to kill someone. Ever. And trust me, I know a lot of reasons people kill other people,"

I wanted to add something, but a knock came on the door. I turned as it opened, revealing Shuri and T'Challa.

"Hello," I said, slightly awkward and crestfallen from talking about my dad.

"Hello, Nico," T'Challa replied. "I need to speak with Mr. Barnes,"

Bucky rose from his chair, giving me a nod before starting for the door and allowing T'Challa to lead him from the room.