Ophelia

Heal

                Flat on his back in his small hut, Bucky rolled the pill between his fingertips. He appreciated what Shuri offered him, this little black pill so that he could visit Ophelia every night. But it was an escape, and if he had seventy or so more years of life, he had to move on and heal one day. He hoped that he saw her in his dreams, that he could speak with her, hold her one last time, and then let her go. It all sounded so simple, and yet the thought of leaving her behind made his gut twist in ways war never made him react.

The war that raged in his head would be silenced.

He popped the pill, swallowed it, then shut his eyes.

He awoke in a never-ending lake. The sky touched the water somewhere out there, but the water reflected the cloud-scattered pink and blue sky so it was impossible to tell where lake began and sky ended. This left a dizzying effect, but Bucky stood still as his mind wrapped around the fact he was in a dream. Still as a stone, he waited for what he hoped would be Ophelia.

A small dot in the distance began to grow, and he knew it was her. A shudder left his lips as he watched her grow larger, coming closer to him. A million thoughts ran through his mind as he wondered what to say to her, or if he should just embrace her until he woke up. Then not a single thought crossed his mind as she developed shape and came into focus.

Only one thought made its way in.

How beautiful she was.

"Hey, O."

"Hello, Bucky," Ophelia replied; her lips moved in this dream like she was real.

"It's been a long time," he said, his voice cracking.

"We have been apart for as long as we were together now," she told him, a solemn look in her big green eyes. They were wide, full of curiousity, curiousity for a world that took and took from her. She always knew there was more out there, more good out there. Ophelia looked around, the world around them was now Wakanda, the small hut where Bucky lived to their right.

Bucky just wanted to touch her, to feel if she was real. Yet he was scared that he would wake when he realized it was all a dream.

"This place is good for you," she said. "No more fighting, no more war, no more death. You're safe here."

He nodded, then took a nervous step forward. "I should have taken you here, instead of Romania."

She smiled, glancing at the massive trees, the glistening lake, the lush grasses that blew gently in the winds coming from the west. Meeting him in the middle, she closed the gap between them and placed her hand on his good arm, feeling the smooth, warm skin there. The smile deepened, Bucky didn't even know that was possible; no matter what life took from her, she always found a reason to smile. Knowing he was very often that reason, it made everything harder.

"You have something to say to me, don't you Bucky?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No, because if I say it, you'll go."

She spread her fingers on her right hand, delicate fingers unscarred unlike the rest of her body. She placed her hand against his chest; a nervousness ripped through Bucky as he worried she would peel him back again, take out his heart, make him feel that same pain, then leave him. He learned over the last few months of being awake that it was Ophelia showing him the pain he went through when he lost her, over and over again. But if he couldn't feel that pain, then he couldn't feel anything.

Instead she peeled back to tunic he was wearing, each layer of clothing peeled off. She did the same, her scarred body before him again like it had been a hundred times before. The deep carvings on her stomach not drawing his attention anymore; his eyes remained on her face as he brought her closer, pulling her body against his. With only one arm, he snuck it around her back underneath her arm, palm on her spine. They were shaking, and Bucky realized he was sobbing; uncontrollable crying that raked through his body. Ophelia's hands moved up to his neck, then ran through his messy hair. She held him this way and he held her back, their bodies flush, only love flowing through them.

"Say it, Bucky," she whispered.

"I can't."

"You cannot heal if you do not face it," she replied softly, her lips going to his neck pressing gently.

"Just let me hold on a little longer," he begged like a child to a mother who didn't want to go to sleep.

"Alright," she replied.

Bucky's hand moved along the length of her spine, curving up around her shoulder, fingers running through her silky brown hair. Pulling apart from her just to look at her again, he cupped her cheek and ran his thumb over her perfect lips. Brushing her hair back so he could see all of her face, he looked into her eyes and lost himself in that ocean of green. She smiled the entire time, that deep-set smile that could light up a room, that smile that could have changed the world, stopped the hatred it was so filled up with, it would make evil melt.

"I love you, O."

"I always loved you, Bucky."

"It's time for you..." he stumbled on his words, "for you to go."

"I know," she replied. "I will always be here when you need me."

He kissed her, this time with all the passion that built up between them during their few scattered years of being together. All the times where he thought he knew her but couldn't reach into that part of his mind to find her. All the times she sat next to him knowing who he was, terrified for their lives if HYDRA found out she remembered, all the times she wondered if he would remember her, or kill her. Every flashing moment of their lives together in Romania flew by in a rapid progression, then everything stilled all at once. It was just them, surrounded by silent waters and the soft lull of nature.

Bucky slowly opened his eyes, staring up at the black sky dotted with a million stars overhead. A smile etched onto his lips, a serenity filling him for the first time in a long time. He could count the amount of times he felt this calm, this relaxed, on one hand. Taking a deep, restorative breath, Bucky sat up. He could still feel Ophelia's hands on his skin, her breath on his neck, lips on his. The feelings would never go away, the memories would fade only a little, but day by day he would heal.

He was healing.

"Goodbye, O."