Stucky Oneshots

I want them back (the minds we had)

Stucky returns, only this time, it's a super short oneshot I wrote with my eyes literally closed because I was falling asleep. (I'm using literally seriously here, not in the way the internet uses it). You have to understand—it was one in the morning, okay?

Oneshot info: 2.5k, first kiss, fairy-tale elements

Steve hurries into Wakanda's secure hospital, his heart frozen in his chest.

"You should come," Shuri said over the phone, "it's no cause for worry."

But he's worried anyway.

"Yeah, no problem, Cap, no trouble at all, flying you over the Atlantic ocean, you're so welcome," Tony says from behind him.

"Thank you, Tony," Steve says, turning in the door. He finds Tony's eyes. "I mean, it. Thank you."

"Uh-huh," Tony replies dismissively, but Steve can tell he knows Steve means it. It takes a lot of will, a lot of strength, a lot of goodness at heart to fly someone across the Atlantic in your ship so they can help the murderer of your parents get better. Steve is grateful for the way Tony has stepped back and let Steve feel the way he feels without giving him shit, even though he knows it stings. He knows Tony knows he's grateful. "Call me when you want a ride back, Rogers. I gotta be back to meet the girlfriend for dinner."

It's the middle of the afternoon already, the sun shining warmly down on the rolling fields of Wakanda, on their homes and on the cityscape of the capital. It's the prettiest cityscape Steve has ever seen, because the Wakandans give nature a place in their society.

Bucky isn't awake and hasn't been awake since he requested they do the operation on him, but even so, Steve's glad he's here, in such a beautiful place—all lush greens and warm yellows and the sheer, sharp lines of skyscrapers cutting through it all.

It feels right, as if the goodness of this place could somehow seep into Bucky himself, taking steps to make him better and to leech all the bad that has been shoved into his brain out again.

"I will," Steve promises Tony, with as much of a smile as he can manage.

Tony turns on a heel and walks off, back towards the ship he's just landed in the parking lot.

Steve turns away and looks at the lobby.

People stream back and forth—people who are obviously patients, with wheelchairs, crutches, long blue dressing gowns; people who must be family, sitting in open waiting areas with multiple bags at their feet; people who are clearly on-staff personnel because they're wearing uniforms, sharply pressed yellows and reds.

Steve spots one coming briskly his way, a clipboard in his hand, and he hurries towards him. "Do you know where I can find James Barnes?" he demands, stepping into the man's path.

The man is stocky, wearing glasses that make his face look squarer. He looks harried and irritated. "I don't know." He moves to step around Steve.

Steve catches his arm—he feels the way he does when there's a ticking bomb, when gas is spreading, when the enemy is killing people as they speak, the more people the longer he waits: wildly, irrepressibly urgent. "Do you know where I can find Shuri—the princess? She's working with my friend. I need to speak to her; she called for me."

The man looks slightly less ruffled at the mention of Shuri, his baleful gaze easing. "Working with her Highness?" he repeats. "I know where her rooms are, I can take you there."

"Thank you," Steve says, his breath leaving him quickly. He sucks in another lungful. Tony flew him here, but he feels like he's just run a marathon, trying for his fastest time, unable tot catch his breath. "Lead the way."