Rising From the Ashes • COMPLETED ✓

35.) A Long Story: Bucky Barnes

BUCKY BARNES - WHITE WOLF

July 19th, 2017, Wakanda

"I love you," I whisper softly, to the ceiling and to Steve. He's long since been asleep, and I know from personal experience just how passed out he is based on his snores. Not even a bomb could wake up him up, I think with a sad smile. 

Using the golden auras that the hallway lights give off, I scrawl a goodbye letter onto two pieces of sketchbook paper—front and back. There aren't enough trees in the world to even express how much I want and have to say to Rogers, but this will have to do.

I grab the duffel bag underneath my bed and shuffle over to the door. My feet make absolutely no noise. I've been trained to not make a sound as I move. The Bad Bucky's instincts take over for this. Bad Bucky, Good Bucky. Which one am I? I shake my head in defeat.

Before pressing my thumbprint on the sensor pad, I look over my shoulder and at Steve. His head is lying carelessly on his rumpled pillow, his golden hair spread out on the fabric as well. All of the wrinkles caused by worry and stress are smoothed out. 

I'm instantly reminded of a time when I watched over the careless and small blonde man, whether he had nightmares or chicken pox or a broken nose or the flu, or some other illness and ailment. I always made sure he fell asleep, through everything and anything.

As I rip my eyes away from him, it feels like my heart is tearing too.

~

It's easy to get past all the guards, and since my prints are all acceptable for entry and exit in the palace, it's no problem for me to enter the courtyard. Yesterday, when Steve and I went on a nearly three-hour-long walk, I scoured the paths and tried to make sense of where I was.

I didn't expect Wakanda to look so different in the wee hours of the morning. The lights of the city sparkle, making the array of structures and complex arrangement of agricultural and technical buildings look otherworldly and dystopian. The sky is a deep navy and indigo, stars sprinkled few and far between. Many fountains in the courtyard provide the music of water burbling and running. I feel at peace.

"God, I love this place," I murmur, absorbing the sights. I head in the direction of the main city, its towers shimmering with the promise of a blood-red sunrise, whistling a tune. I'm just about to start singing out of restlessness until I hear rustling and footsteps. Immediately, I freeze, Bad Bucky's instincts taking over as I duck into a nearby bush; completely concealed.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" I recognize the voice of Shuri Udaku, the rustling noise coming from a dress. Good Bucky takes over, and I stand up.

"It's just me, Shuri." I shake the leaves and twigs off of me, making sure that there isn't any residue entangled in my hair. "You can put that down," I say with a slight grin, gesturing at the multi-colored gun she's grasping in her hand.

"Right, of course. Sorry, Mr. Barnes."

"It's fine, I understand your need for caution."

Shuri nods solemnly, knowing the history behind my understanding. She did, after all, have to sift through the entirety of my memories—no matter how horrid or graphic they are. The princess has a tight smile on her face as she presses a button on her weapon, the firearm now folding into a miniature prism. I can only watch in awe. "Now, Bucky, what are you doing here at," She checks her watch, "Two thirty-seven in the morning?"

I pause. Shuri deserves to know the truth, I determine. Now I'm not Bad or Good Bucky, but just me. Bucky. "It's a long story. Let's sit down," I answer.

"Okay," Shuri answers, "Follow me. I know the perfect place." 

This conversation will continue in the next chapter.

What was the reason for Bucky leaving Steve, Natasha, Sam, Shuri, Peter, T'Challa, and all of the residents in the Wakandan palace behind?

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Dedicated to @Androids_Assemble because she's amazing and wonderful.