Saving Bucky (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Chapter 83 - Storms

Despite the pomp and circumstance of your reception, there is only silence as the palace's doors swing shut behind your small party. The marble-bound antechamber echoes with a gilded quiet, yet James remains tense. You glance up to find his ice-blue eyes darting madly about the room, flitting from wall to wall, scanning the foyer's arches and counting the number of halls and doors. You give his hand a small squeeze, and his gaze cuts to yours. You take a deep breath in, and exhale slowly. James lets out the breath he's been holding since he passed the threshold, and his grip on your hands loosens – but only slightly.

"I know that we met under...tenuous circumstances," King T'Challa says gently as he leads the group down a widened hall lined with rich displays of flowers and regalia. "I had believed having the Dora Milaje present for your arrival would reassure you of my respect. But perhaps I have instead brewed concern," he says, taking a quick glance at the thin layer of sweat on James' forehead as the group walks. "I assure you their presence was to reaffirm my wish to help."

James grunts, but his lips remain pressed together in a thin line – nearly white. The King takes a moment and considers James' response, eyeing him subtly. But he decides to let the silence that has fallen over the group remain as only a set of footsteps echo across through the empty hall. Sticking close to your side, James hesitates when the King suddenly stops before a set of sliding glass doors, gesturing for the two of you to follow Shuri without him or his mother.

"You won't be joining us?" questions Steve, hovering behind you and James.

"I regret that I cannot accompany you further at this time, Captain," the King sighs. "My mother and I have...urgent business. You will continue with my sister," he says, shooting her a cautionary glance. "Who will be a most gracious host. Will you not, Shuri?"

Shuri scoffs and rolls her eyes, stepping further into what you can now clearly tell is an elevator. "Of course, brother," she sighs. "I prefer you stay away from my lab anyhow. The last time you visited, you were invited only to kick things around like a lame goat! Bah," she tuts with a click of her tongue.

You arch a brow, taken aback by the banter between the King and Princess. You've never met a royal family quite so...playful. The only royals you've ever met had been your "guests" at the Hold. And their demeanors had been anything but playful. As you watch T'Challa pull a face at Shuri's grin, a strange, mournful ache in your chest suddenly has you wondering if you would have had a similar rapport with your brother, had you been allowed to know him. You wonder if he smiled more like T'Challa, leading with his lips. Or like Shuri, beaming from his eyes. Perhaps neither. Maybe he smiled like you do - directly from the apple of your cheeks.

Or maybe he never learned to smile at all.

Not if what Vex had said was true. Not if he really is still alive. Alive, and sitting at the head of the Tressis hunting James. Hunting you. If your brother really is Asmodai, then he's a monster.

And monsters don't smile with anything but teeth.

"Don't go quiet on me, doll."

The hushed whisper in your ear is so quiet you barely notice it until James' hand squeezes yours. Your gaze flits to his, and his furrowed brow makes you realize that your own lips have turned into a frown - and your left cheek has started to twitch.

The buzzing in your head is back.

And getting louder.

It was pure luck that you had gotten angry at James and taken four pills out of spite just hours before your capture. They had kept you alive during the six weeks at the Spectre facility. But by the time Malachi had given you three more, you had been in a bad way. And although it's only been about a week since your escape, your body is still tired. Still bruised. Still healing. Part of you isn't surprised your mind is crying out for more of its medication. But you're not ready to take it. Not yet. You've finally started to find peace in being you. And each time you slip back into the Interrogator's skin, she feels more foreign - like a shoe that continues to shrink, rubbing and pinching each time you put her on. She's starting to leave blisters each time you take her on and off.