Bucky's Anchor

Chapter 38 - Battle of Wakanda

The air was thick with tension, the kind that crawled up your spine and settled in your bones. I stood in the medical tent, surrounded by the scent of antiseptic and the low murmur of injured soldiers. I tried to focus on the tasks at hand—preparing bandages, organizing supplies—but my eyes kept drifting to the open flap of the tent, to the battlefield where Bucky had disappeared moments ago.

The war horns of Wakanda blared in the distance, signaling the beginning of the battle. My heart raced. I knew this day would come, but nothing could have prepared me for the reality of it. The hum of the energy shields, the distant roars of Thanos's army—everything felt surreal. My mind was here, tending to the wounded, but my heart was out there with Bucky.

I glanced at Shuri, who was preparing another batch of supplies. She caught my eye and gave me a nod, a silent acknowledgment of the storm brewing both outside and inside of me. "He'll be okay, Emily," she said, her voice steady, a beacon of calm in the chaos.

"I know," I replied, but my voice cracked slightly. "I just... I can't help but worry." I didn't have time to say more. The sound of the shields being penetrated, the crash of weapons clashing, filled the air. My heart dropped as I saw the first wave of Outriders breaching the perimeter.

Bucky was out there. I moved to the edge of the tent, peering out to catch a glimpse of him. The sight of him made my heart clench. He was in the thick of it, his Vibranium arm moving in a blur of silver as he took down one Outrider after another. He moved with such precision, such determination. But for every enemy he felled, two more took its place.

"Stay focused," I whispered to myself, tearing my eyes away. But it was no use. My mind was with him, every strike he made, every hit he took.

The warriors of Wakanda joined the fray, led by T'Challa, and the battlefield erupted into chaos. Bucky moved in tandem with them, his movements fluid and lethal. I caught glimpses of him through the smoke and dust—fighting alongside Steve, covering T'Challa's flank. He was no longer the weapon that Hydra had forged. He was Bucky Barnes, the man who had found his purpose.

The ground beneath me shook as explosions sounded in the distance. A group of medics rushed into the tent carrying a wounded warrior. I forced myself to turn away from the battle and focus on the man before me, his leg torn and bleeding. But even as I worked, my thoughts were on Bucky. Every scream, every explosion, made me fear the worst.

"Emily!" Shuri called out, drawing my attention back. "We need more bandages here."

I nodded and moved to the supplies, my hands working automatically. But my mind was on the battlefield, on Bucky. And then, through the haze, I heard Steve's voice shouting a command. I glanced up and saw them, Bucky and Steve, back-to-back, fighting off the horde of Outriders. For a moment, a strange calm washed over me. They were holding the line.

- - -

The battle grew fiercer with each passing second. Bucky was everywhere—one moment using his new arm to shield Steve from an incoming blast, the next tearing through the Outriders with a force I had never seen before. It was like watching a force of nature, something primal and uncontainable. But I knew this wasn't the Winter Soldier. This was Bucky, the man who had chosen to fight, not because he was ordered to, but because it was the right thing to do.

The ground shook again, this time from the impact of a massive creature—one of Thanos's war beasts. I watched in horror as it charged toward Bucky. He braced himself, digging his heels into the dirt, his Vibranium arm ready. It was a clash of titans. Bucky met the beast head-on, his arm locking with its jaws in a brutal struggle.

"Come on, Bucky," I whispered, my fists clenched at my sides.

He pushed back, his face a mask of concentration and grim determination. I could see the strain, the raw power it took to hold the creature at bay. My heart pounded in my chest as he gritted his teeth and, with a mighty effort, threw the beast aside. The ground shook with its impact, and for a moment, it was like the battlefield held its breath.

Then, with a roar, the fighting resumed, fiercer than before. Bucky didn't stop. He couldn't. He was in the zone, every move calculated, every strike purposeful. He was fighting for more than just survival. He was fighting for a future, for a life we could build together.

I watched as he joined forces with Black Panther, the two of them moving in perfect harmony. T'Challa would strike with his claws, and Bucky would follow up with a devastating blow from his Vibranium arm. They were a force to be reckoned with, cutting a path through the enemy ranks.

"Hold the line!" Steve's voice rang out, a command that was both a rallying cry and a promise.

Bucky turned, his eyes meeting mine across the battlefield. For a split second, everything else faded away. His gaze was fierce, unwavering. In that moment, I saw the man I loved—the man who had fought his way back from the darkness. I nodded, sending him all the strength and love I could muster. He nodded back, then turned his focus back to the fight.

The battle pressed on. Bucky moved to intercept another wave of attackers, his arm moving in a blur of silver and black. An Outrider lunged at him from behind, and my heart leaped into my throat. Before I could even cry out, he spun, delivering a crushing blow that sent the creature sprawling.

The fight was relentless, and so was he. Bucky didn't falter, didn't hesitate. He was a force on the battlefield, not just a man with a Vibranium arm, but a warrior with a heart full of resolve. And as I watched him, my own resolve hardened. We would make it through this. We had to.

- - -

Amidst the chaos, there were moments that stood out—moments that solidified Bucky's role in this battle. I watched as he saved Black Panther from a sneak attack, throwing himself in front of T'Challa and using his Vibranium arm as a shield. The impact was brutal, but he didn't flinch. T'Challa gave him a brief nod of gratitude before they moved on, back to back, taking down foes together.

There was another moment when he fought alongside the Hulk, the two of them taking on one of the larger war beasts. It was a sight to behold—Bucky's precision and the Hulk's raw power working in tandem. They brought the creature down with a combination of strength and strategy, a testament to the unity that had been forged on this battlefield.

Through it all, he kept looking back toward the medical tent, toward me. It was as if, in the midst of all this death and destruction, we were each other's anchor. Every time our eyes met, I felt a surge of energy, of hope. He was fighting for more than just the world. He was fighting for us.

But the battle was far from over. The enemy kept coming, wave after wave, threatening to overwhelm us. And yet, Bucky remained at the forefront, leading the charge, his movements a blur of determination. He wasn't the soldier who followed orders. He was the man who had reclaimed his life and was now fighting to protect it.

As I watched him fight, I felt a swell of pride and fear. Pride for the man he had become and fear for what could happen. But in that moment, he was invincible, a beacon of hope in the darkness that surrounded us.

- - -

Watching Bucky on that battlefield was like witnessing the culmination of everything he had fought for. He wasn't just a soldier; he was a protector, a man who had reclaimed his destiny. And as he fought, I knew that no matter what happened next, we had already won. We had won our freedom, our future, and our love. And that, in this moment of chaos, was everything.