Ophelia

Pieces

Bucky sat cross-legged on the soft Earth, his hand touching the soil where she was buried. There was no marker, no cross or headstone, but a beautiful willow tree growing. Barely more than a sapling, the tree had developed long branches that hung down under their own weight, blowing gently in the wind. Something so beautiful was the only way they could mark her grave, even if Bucky hadn't been there when they did it, they knew. After having been awakened for a few months now, he had been given a small piece of land to live in peace -aside from the occasional awakening with children surrounding him with wide eyes. So far, he had found that peace.

Sensing someone closing in on him, Bucky turned his head to see T'Challa and Okoye, plus two others carrying a large box. They approached, three of them stopping but T'Challa closing the gap between them. Out of earshot of the others, T'Challa stood beside Bucky and smiled.

"There is something I should have given you a long time ago," T'Challa said as he sat down beside Bucky.

In his hand was a yellowed piece of paper, crumpled from the years. In his gut, Bucky knew what it was, yet he didn't want to see it. Not yet. Another part of him desired to rip it from T'Challa's hands, to savour every word that was there. Reading his mind, T'Challa handed it to Bucky.

"Did you read it?" Bucky asked.

"No," he replied. "But your friend did. He told me to give it to you, when you were ready."

"What makes me ready?"

"You were ready the day you took that pill to say goodbye to her. I apologize if this brings her back, but, given the circumstances, I think you might need her."

"What circumstances?" Bucky asked.

"I'll explain later, when you've read it," T'Challa replied, then rose to his feet with one gentle, friendly pat on Bucky's back.

When T'Challa's footsteps had receded and disappeared, Bucky looked at the crumpled letter. Opening it, he was floored by the sight of her writing. Like pieces of her still existed around the world, outside of his head. She lived on in everyone's memory, but his most prominently. Her chicken-scratch writing was hard to make out, but he read with fervour. This time, tears did not come to his eyes. Instead a smile brushed over his lips, one that only Steve and Ophelia were able to get out of Bucky. He held that shaking letter for a long time after he read it.

"No one in the world looked at me the way you did."

"I never understood love until I met you, and you are the only person I've ever loved in my entire life."

Bucky folded the letter and pulled off the photo that was clipped to the back of it. Staring at it, he took a moment to recall when he had taken it. It was a candid shot, she hadn't been expecting it. And yet she was so beautiful, no matter what expression she wore. Bucky held the fading photo up in the light and smiled at her, as though she were really there, smiling back at him. Rising, he tucked the letter and the photo into a fold of his shirt, then crossed the generous amount of land that he was given.

The two guards plus T'Challa and Okoye stood beside that ominous box, waiting for him to be ready.

When he arrived, the guards unlatched and opened it, and inside was something all too familiar to Bucky. Another mechanical arm to replace the one that was ruined two years ago. A sadness overcame him knowing that there was a fight coming.

"Where is the fight?" Bucky asked.

"On it's way."

Bucky nodded. "Tell me."

"I have got word from your friend, something big is coming. This may very well be the end of our time here."

Bucky offered a crooked smile. "Well, it's not like I have much to lose."

"That's where you're wrong, Sergeant Barnes." T'Challa clapped his hand upon his shoulder. "You have us."

T'Challa was right; Bucky had everyone here in Wakanda. He had developed a few friendships, though kept them at arm's reach in order to avoid getting too close. And as much as he felt like Ophelia was all he had in this world, he still had Steve. There was still good in this world worth fighting for, and if Bucky was to make up for all the harm he did, should this be his last fight, it would be noble.

"When will he be here?"

"Within the hour."