'𝐈 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐈 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐁𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐄, 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔.'
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Even if every memory from 1917 comes roaring back to you, being a former Hydra assassin means you can never get a break. Since Beverly is on a mission of redemption, she respo...
The moonlight peaks through the trees, beaming down on the grass as Bucky and I walk through the Wakandian woods. Both of us are holding hands, giving the other the needed comfort for tonight. We both need each other more than ever right now. We follow the instructions given to us by Shuri and T'Challa, making our way towards the mountains and away from the civilians.
When we see the candle lights, I start to feed off the nerves bubbling in the pit of my stomach. It is finally hitting me that this is all happening. I subconsciously grab Bucky's hand tighter when I see the wooden sticks with the fire, guiding the way towards the large firepit in the middle of the grass. Standing around the fire are all the Avengers, Shuri, T'Challa, and members of the Dora Milaje. They all seem nervous as they see us approaching, but I know for a fact that they aren't as terrified as Bucky and I. We are all still unsure if this is going to work or not.
"It's time." Shuri frowns.
Even with all of them looking at us expectedly, we refuse to leave the others side. We are in this together, and it is staying like that. We have been together since the beginning, even when we didn't know the other was right there, and today isn't going to be any different.
"If you two can sit over here," Shuri points to the other side of the firepit. "And then we can begin."
We follow her instructions, uur fingers still interlocked the entire time. Once we are on the opposite side of the fire, away from everyone else, we sit down on the mud. A few of the Avengers sit on the tree trunks placed in a circle around the fire. It is obvious who has the most faith in us, as they sit down, the others standing far away with their arms crossed over their chests. Steve, Tony, Wanda, Sam, and Natasha all sit on the trunks, the nervous smiles on their faces evident. They is a significant amount of distance between Bucky and me and the others as they were instructed to do so, for everyone's safety.
No ones dares to moves as a member of the Dora Milaje grabs a pouch, pulling out the red book and hiding it in her hands. She opens the book, flicking through the pages and scans every word inside. If it is even possible, our hold on each others hands tightens and we pass our nerves through the hold, making the other feel the anxiety brewing in every cell in our bodies.
"Тоска." She begins. (Longing)
At her words, I close my eyes, them tightening and the skin around them wrinkling as I do. I can hear the wind whistling through the trees, and the crunching of the leaves under heavy footsteps. I can hear the fire crackling and the scattering of leaves against the floor. I try and focus on all of those noises, trying to block out the words being spoken to me.
"Ржавый." (Rusted)
The fire burns the hairs up my nose, making me smell the ashes. The wood burns and creates a smell of dirt, forcing a gag to form in the back of my throat, but I push it back. It is the least of my priorities right now.
"Семнадцать." She continues. "Рассвет." (Seventeen) (Daybreak)
The ground under me feels harsh against my skin, the stray twigs and broken leaves cutting my skin. It feels uncomfortable as I sit, but I digress. I can feel Bucky shifting beside me, the words having just as much as a great effect on him as they do me. I start stroking my thumb up and down the back of his hand, comforting him.
"печь." (Furnace)
A pain burns in the centre of my head, making me groan out in pain. Tears begin to brew in the corners of my eyes, threatening to fall down my cheeks. With my eyes still closed, I don't have any control over them as they swim down my skin, hanging on the end of my chin. I can feel them falling off my chin and mixing with the dirt in front of me.
"Девять." She speaks. "Доброкачественный." (Nine) (Benign)
"Stop!" I beg. "This isn't going to work!"
"Возвращение домой." She continues. "Один." (Homecoming) (One)
"Please!" Bucky whispers.
"Грузовой автомобиль." (Freight car)
The silence around us is so loud, making me feel nervous to open my eyes. When I do, I look straight to Bucky, seeing that we both haven't moved from our spots. He looks over at me, searching my face for any signs of malicion, but he won't find any. She's not here. It worked.
We are both finally free from the other versions of ourselves.
He pulls me into a hug, his tear stained cheeks mixing with the material of my shirt. I wrap my arms around his body, needing to feel him against me. We are both finally free, and I'll be damned if I don't soak up every moment with him right now. We pull from the hug, look over at the group, and are greeted by a group of wide smiles. The group is happy that we are free, but not as happy as we are.
