Saving Bucky (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

*Chapter 104 - A Lethal Call to Arms*

James changed after his meeting with Okoye. 

The night he returned in tears, Shuri and Okoye left the two of you to retire in peace and privacy. But James hadn't stopped crying. Through the rest of the night, tears flowed freely down his cheeks. Some were silent. Some were not. Some were of relief, and others of disbelief. With salt-stained lips he whispered of what had happened. He spoke of another Wakandan warrior named Ayo - and how she had recited his activation phrases one by one. But James hadn't reacted. He hadn't even felt a stirring of his former ghost. It was the final confirmation. James Buchanan Barnes was no longer the Winter Soldier. 

The next morning you saw the change in him.

You awoke with the early morning calls of the mourning doves, as usual. But the bed was cold, and James was no longer beside you. Instead, you found him leaning against the doorway waiting for you to rise. Dressed in only a pair of linen trousers, the golden glow of the sun gilded him in godly palettes. The cut of his muscles glistened against the dawn. And for the first time he asked you if he could accompany you to the village. 

He was greeted warmly. The children flocked to his feet as the men lowered their spears - and their guards - for the first time since your arrival. Clearly word of James' recovery had spread. A new confidence - and a new sense of belonging - found its place in each step he took.

Since then, James has existed within an aura of peace and simplicity. 

Perhaps too much simplicity. 

"Hey, sugar?" James calls from somewhere outside the hut.

Immediately your hackles rise. James only calls you sugar when he wants to fuck, or when he's trying to wiggle out of trouble. Suspicious, you narrow your gaze at the doorway and stop folding the basket of clothes at your feet.

"Yeah...?" you call out. Silence. "What?" you call out again. But he doesn't respond. Concerned, and intrigued, you move toward the doorway just as James runs through, a guilty grin on his face.

"Hi," he says quickly, herding you back inside the hut - away from the door. 

"What'd you do?" you accuse, peering over his shoulder as he manhandles you back inside.

"I didn't do nothin'," he says. 

"Mhmm," you hum, skeptical. 

James gives you a bashful, cock-eyed grin and pecks your lips. "You sure are pretty," he says, rubbing his nose to yours.

"I know," you state, giving him a gentle shove away. "Again I ask - what'd you do?" 

James parts his lips to speak, but before he can a tiny bleat comes from right outside the door. Your gaze flits between the threshold and the bashful, pink-cheeked look on James' face. Then you hear it again. A weak bleating. 

"James Buchanan," you frown. "What was that?"

James clears his throat and holds out his hands in surrender, slowly backing away as you advance toward the door.

"Now, hold on sugar, you gotta just let me explain," he says.

You ignore him as you push past and step outside - once more hearing that tiny little noise somewhere near your feet. Peering down, you spot a bundle of blankets - clean blankets you had just washed yesterday - balled up on the ground. Moving. A dirt-streaked pink nose pokes through the center of the fabric, and two white, fuzzy ears pop up.

A baby goat.

"What the hell is this doing here?" you frown, hands on your hips. "Did you...steal it?"