Ophelia

Forgiveness

                Steve didn't sleep that night in Wakanda; Bucky was frozen again, his best friend lost in time and lost in his mind. He only just got Bucky back, and he was losing him again. A soft sigh escaped from his lips as he realized in that moment he had so little, but he still had more than Bucky did. Beside him was a letter for Tony Stark; he would send it to him soon, after he got everyone to a safe place and out of the Raft Prison. Tomorrow he would take the Quinjet there, he would break laws, he would disappoint a lot of people while he was at it.

It was Ophelia's letter to Bucky that stuck in his mind as he laid there, trying to sleep but finding himself wide awake. He remembered what she said about Bucky when he was still learning who Ophelia was to him. After discovering that his best friend was still alive, living in some shell of himself, Steve hadn't known what to think. When Ophelia explained what Bucky had done for her in Siberia, Steve knew he could still be extracted underneath what HYDRA put inside him. To know that his womanizing best friend had found love in such circumstances, it had floored Steve.

Steve rolled off the bed and walked to the balcony of his third storey room, overlooking all of Wakanda. A beautiful place that was hidden from the world, safe. It was the safest place for Bucky to be.

Steve thought of the weight of her body in his arms after Siberia. How she felt so small, and yet she carried such a heavy weight in her life. She carried the sanity of Bucky, her life was what kept him grounded, and so it didn't surprise Steve that Bucky wanted to go under again. The memory of recent bloodshed, how Ophelia had stepped in the way of Tony Stark; Steve wondered if he had seen Ophelia hit her head earlier, could he have stopped the fight and saved her? Would Tony had relented and let them escape, let them bring her somewhere earlier?

The what if's ran through Steve's mind, and he could only find the energy to blame himself.

He knew it wasn't anyone's fault, even if he had told Tony it was his.

Still, just like when he lost Bucky on the train all those years ago, guilt fermented within him. It poisoned his blood and filled him up. Guilt that he didn't hold on tighter, get there faster, grip his best friends hand. These feelings returned when he discovered Bucky was alive, guilt that he never went looking for him.

Steve leaned against the railing, bending at the hip and placing his head in his hands.

Guilt that he never told Tony about his parents. But how could he tell him? How could he find the right time and place to explain to Tony that his parents didn't die in a car accident, but at the literal hands of his best friend?

Guilt.

Was there any outcome where someone didn't die? Was there ever going to be an end to the fighting? Would Bucky ever find peace? Steve pushed off of the railing and stepped back into his room. His eyes were drawn to the letter to Tony Stark. He wrote more than one, the first few filled with that anger, pushed out by the guilt, wanting to displace it and put it on Tony's conscience. Tony suffered enough, Steve told himself. They had all suffered enough. He had scrapped many letters, until he found the right thing to say.

No more guilt, only forgiveness.