The White Wolf

XXIX

Orange and red forked tongues of flame licked the chilled, dark air, casting a flickering hue onto their faces in the night. It cracked and crinkled, keeping Bucky grounded. Bucky, whose heart pounded like a big brass band. Bucky, who had hardly spoken since his conversation with Ava the night before because his fear had stolen his voice. Bucky, whose nightmares of the terror he created as the Winter Soldier caused him to wake in a sweat, limbs thrashing in the sheets and sweat beading off of his skin. Thrashing that Ava tried to calm, only earning her the gratitude of being thrown off of the bed and onto the floor out of pure, confused, and frightened reaction. Bucky, who quickly had realized what he had done and taken off, locking himself in the bathroom to sleep the rest of the night in the tub so he wouldn't risk hurting the woman he loved. Bucky, who had woken up before the sun rose so he could wander the edges of Wakanda for the rest of the day to process his thoughts alone, knowing Ava didn't chase him down because she knew he needed some space. 

But now he was here, staring into a small fire, sat in the dirt with his long, stringy, dark hair falling down around his face, hunched forward with his hand gripping tightly to the grey pants he wore. Those goddamn trigger words... the words Zemo had used on him. The words Hydra used on him. The words that turned him into a monster. A monster he felt was still inside. A monster that threw Ava out of the bed and into the wall-

Ava stood opposite of where Bucky sat in relation to the fire, one she and Ayo had built on the farthest borders of Wakanda in case something went wrong. She knew Bucky was terrified. She knew those words brought back a lot of trauma- a lot of PTSD for the man she loved so dearly. But Ross was right. They had to make sure all of their efforts worked to deprogram his mind. And she didn't blame him for what happened the night before. She hadn't been hurt other than a few bruises and a headache, but she knew the guilt was eating Bucky alive anyway. It's why she gave him space, only calling him to this location when they were ready to test the words. 

Ayo stood beside her, holding her vibranium spear tightly as she watched the White Wolf stare into the flame dead-eyed. "Are you ready, James?"

Steel blues left the orange blaze and landed on the tall, lean woman before shifting to the blonde beside her. "Please go-" His voice was tight, quiet, and unsure.

Ava could feel the worry coming off of him, worried he might transform and hurt her. "I'm not going anywhere." She said, shaking her head. She stepped around the campfire, watching the shadows sway across his face as she went to kneel in front of him, taking his cheeks in her hands. She felt the familiar prickle of his short beard, and she smiled only a little, looking into his eyes. "You didn't hurt me last night. You won't hurt me tonight. I'm with you through it all."

He looked back and forth between her loving eyes, believing that he was unworthy of them. He couldn't risk seeing the light inside of them die at his own hand. "Ava-"

She placed a finger on his lips, quieting him. "If something happens, I can defend myself. Ayo will help me, and we will go to every length we must. You are down an arm, too. It gives us an edge. But believe me, I think this is going to work."

Bucky swallowed, looking down at his only hand, a frown sliding onto his face. He was too tired to argue, but he had to make sure Ava understood the risks too. "Even if you have to kill me to stop me?"

Ava's breath feathered as her lips parted. She placed her fingers under his chin, lifting his head so he would look at her again. As much as it made her stomach churn, she nodded. "Yes."

He swallowed again, his tongue grazing over his chapped lips as she stood again and rejoined Ayo across the fire. "Are you sure about this?" He asked, looking at the rising red embers.