Rising From the Ashes • COMPLETED ✓

31.) Isn't It Beautiful: Steve Rogers

A/N: That photo was taken from my backyard. Sunsets, man. Gotta appreciate them.

STEVE ROGERS - CAPTAIN AMERICA

July 16th, 2017, Wakanda

"It's just like old times," I joke, softly patting Bucky on the back, expecting a laugh. Instead, he tiredly looks up at me, his turquoise eyes looking duller than normal. "Are you feeling okay? I can take those for you," My hand reaches for his bags—but his reflexes are still as good as before. The straps just barely slip from my fingers.

"Steve Rogers, always a gentleman," Bucky chuckles as he saunters over to his side of the room, carefully placing his belongings onto the large mattress. Slowly, he takes a seat next to his things, taking in a breath so deep I can hear it from the doorway. Noticing my worried look, he rolls his eyes. "I'm fine. It's just been awhile since I've had my own room." Bucky stares at his hand, then the empty space where his metal arm used to be. "It's been awhile since I've been free."

I walk towards Bucky and plop down next to him. I wrap an arm around my companion, almost at a loss for words. He's been through so much. When I turn to face him, ready to speak—I notice that he winces at my touch.

"I—I'm sorry Steve," He whispers, tenderly removing my arm from his shoulders. I can't help but feel my heart break a little. "Everything is a lot for me right now." Mentally, I slap myself. Of course. I'm being way too selfish.

"No, I'm sorry. You need time. And space. I..." I think of what happened yesterday, and yet another arrow plunges into my chest. Why can't I form complete sentences? I stand up from the bed immediately. My heart is beating too quickly. Letters aren't turning into words. It almost feels like I'm getting an asthma attack. "I'm going to take a walk," I finally manage to blurt out. I don't look in Bucky's direction. I'm not in the right state of mind to talk to him.

~

Hurriedly, I burst from the Wakandan doors, making my way to the exterior courtyard, saluting the soldiers that acknowledge my presence with a respectful nod.

"Steve, you're a total idiot," I mutter aloud. Walking, jogging, running—you name it—exercising usually clears my mind. Meanwhile, my brain just seems to be getting foggier. "Bucky still needs to heal. He needs to be alone. You're a distraction. He needs self-actualization and guidance and peace and quiet." Voicing my thoughts calms me down. I consider asking Shuri to relocate Bucky to the farmlands in the castle grounds sooner than anticipated. "The goats would do him good," I state, feeling absolutely ridiculous.

A few minutes pass before I clench my fists in frustration and rest on a glossy marble bench, my head in my hands as I contemplate my actions.

"Who am I kidding?" I exclaim, wanting to tear my hair out. "I've missed him for so long." Sighing, I release my grip on my face as I come to another realization. "But I'll wait for a hundred more years if it means Barnes and I can be together again." I shake my head laughing at myself, "God, Rogers. You're talking to yourself like a crazy teenager."

"Well, you are pretty crazy." I jump at the sound of his voice. I'm just about to stand back up and leave until Bucky waves a hand towards him. "Please, Steve. Let's go on a walk." The sad smile and hopeful twinkle in his eyes are two of many things that persuade me. I nod.

~

We've strolled alongside each other so many times in the past. A comfortable silence always holds a thousand words between Bucky and me, and this walk is no exception. The Wakandan sunset is gorgeous as it paints the world in a soft hue of rose-gold, highlighting Bucky's face and turning his gaze into a painting of the ocean with its own setting star. The sky is an array of baby blues, wine reds, rusty tangerines, and fruity, watermelon pinks. There couldn't be a more breathtaking day to go on a stroll.

"Steve," Bucky phrases, his eyes locking with mine. The sound of my name breaks the sacred silence and draws my attention back into the present world. "I didn't mean to—to hurt you in any way earlier."

"No, no. I understand. You didn't hurt me. I'm sorry I'm so clingy... I know that you need to find yourself again. I felt the same way when I was unfrozen." I briefly brush my hand against his shoulder, "In a week or two, Natasha, Sam, and I are thinking of going to go to Russia to track down some remaining HYDRA bases—if there any, that is. You'll stay here. You require time to rest and heal. I'm sorry for being so selfish. You've always put my needs in front of yours, and that's just wrong of me to let you do that. I'm not that sickly kid from Brooklyn anymore."

"You're still that weak kid to me," He laughs. "Steve, I mean what I said yesterday. I love you."

Sadness and happiness twist my soul around. My chest almost feels like it's getting tighter. "That wasn't the meds talking?"

Bucky stops walking. I notice and stop too. He pulls me into a hug, and I make sure to not press against his sling as I squeeze him again. "It was not the medicine talking." Buck's chin rests against my shoulder and I swear I could've burst from joy. "I'm so happy that we're together again. I've been apart from the world, from my friends, from you, Steve, for too long. I just need a little time to make sure that this is all real. To take it all in." He releases my back and looks right into my soul with those hauntingly beautiful eyes. "I need to make sure that you're real."

I carefully take his hand in mine. Running over all the scars and calluses on his fingers, I think of the stories behind them, including one that involved falling off of our bikes. "Trust me, I'm not going anywhere, Barnes. I love you, too." With matching grins, we keep walking along the path of the courtyard, the same pleasant silence between us again. As I walk, my hand grazes across Bucky's. Taking a deep breath, I find the bravery to take his palm with mine. Silently, our fingers interlock. I don't think I've ever been happier.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Bucky runs his gaze over the sky, which is now dipped in shades of rich indigo and deep crimsons. I try to divert my attention from him to the heavenly tapestry above us, but I can't seem to muster the strength.

"It really is," I agree, still staring at his expression, his eyes, and mouth wide open in awe. Squeezing his hand, I repeat my statement. "It really is."

Some more bittersweet fluff.

Next chapter will be in Tony's perspective! I know how much you all miss him. ;)

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Warning: Stuff is about to go down

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