Insanity

Epilogue

Song: I'll Be Good by Jaymes Young

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"I'll be good, for all  
the times I never could."

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Bucky Barnes stared out over the horizon watching the sun slowly sink below the treeline, casting everything in a soft golden hue. The grass went from green to orange, the trees to a yellow, the clouds to pink. He held his journal close to him, a gift from King T'Challa himself as an apology for having attacked him that one, long ago forgotten time.

Wakanda was truly a beautiful place, one of which he doubted any other could compare. He'd never seen a sunset so beautiful, not even those times he and Steve would watch the sun go down from Brooklyn Bridge. Bucky smiled, sighing happily. Though years ago he may have argued otherwise, he was happy to be alive, sitting here, calmly watching the sun set.

Sure, his life was a mess. His brain was still a hodgepodge of nightmares of the blood on his hands that still came back to haunt him as he slept mingling with long forgotten memories of his life before, some still coming back to him and some very permanent. He frequently woke up to quickly write something in his journal, some obscure detail that most people wouldn't care about, before going back to sleep. Princess Shuri always comforted him by saying that was completely normal and a good thing to do. So, he never stopped trying, never stopped recollecting his old life as much as possible.

Though he still ached for all of those he'd killed over the years, all of the Wakandans frequently assured him that guilt was a normal feeling, a feeling that made him human. Sometimes he found playing with the children would help bring his spirits up, or keeping busy tending to goats and gardens. But still, there were many nights when he just couldn't get the haunted look on Tony Stark's face as he watched the old surveillance footage out of his head, and it would keep him up through the night. But luckily, those nights had grown fewer and fewer with every week that passed.

When he grew bored, he'd think of those who helped him throughout his life. He remembered Agent Miller, the old man who had tried to help him escape Hydra's clutches, and he vowed never to forget what he'd done. He also remembered a woman, though her name and face had yet to come back to him. All he knew was that she had helped him more than she knew, and that much he would never forget.

Bucky thought of Steve most often. Wondered where he was, what he was doing. Hoped he was well. T'Challa had assured him that any news Wakanda received about Captain America or Steve Rogers alike would go straight to Bucky, though since the fight between him and Tony there hadn't been a word about him. Rumors were circulating that he'd gone into hiding. As long as he was safe, Bucky was at ease; in his opinion, it was actually wonderful that there had been no news of Steve Rogers as of late.

Bucky lied down on his back, staring up at the sky and watching the clouds pass over his head. He thought back to years past, when every day he would constantly be fearing for his life and was grateful to have this moment, simply lying in the grass, watching the clouds pass. Years ago, this was only a fantasy of his, something he longed for but doubted would ever become real. But now, it was here, and it was wonderful.

Slowly, with each passing day he was becoming more of himself again; the medicines the doctors gave him worked wonders. They'd managed to get most of those ten words out of his head, even finding an eleventh one that he hadn't known existed. He had calmed down considerably, and was even able to bring back his personality a bit. His journal was almost full now, and he was proud to say he could recite his his childhood home address without a second thought. Most things were starting to come back to him, and for that he was the most thankful.

Some things would never come back to him, however, and he realized that was okay. He didn't have to remember absolutely everything; no human had a perfect memory, anyway. But every day he was thankful for what he could remember and for the generous help he was receiving to piece his life back together.

At some point after it grew dark, Bucky made his way back to his own little hut. The Wakandans took pride in making his meals every night for dinner, and he certainly wasn't about to object. Rarely did he know what he was eating, but it was always delicious and he never, ever complained.

As he crawled into his bed that night, he fell asleep easily. Calmly. At ease with his past and his life, just taking each day in stride. Grateful that the ghosts of his past were disappearing and that he no longer had to worry about being killed or tortured or used. He had turned himself back into a good man, despite having a bloody past. He had reformed himself, made himself whole again with the help of the Wakandans.

With the help of Steve, who he reminded himself every day he wouldn't be here without.

So, he rested easy, knowing his life was his own. Never again would he be controlled. He was wasn't just free, he was something so much more than that.

Bucky Barnes was safe.

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