Avengers - Civil War AU - Kintsugi Golden Repair - ABANDONED

Five months. Not too long, not too short. Well, for some people he supposed. He motioned for the informant to continue about his business and earthy brown eyes looked down the balcony of their hide-away. Steve was chatting with Sam on the plush couches in the social room, but he knew even from where he stood that the man was starting to look worn. Reprieve and silence was starting to make many of his refugees antsy. There were some small crime-fighting they'd done in passing here and there, but always at night, and he also knew it wasn't /fulfilling/ to them. The lot were used to adrenaline-pumping fights with a challenge, but they couldn't go after those. Not right now.

T'Challa hoped that this new information would liven the Captain. He'd told him about Dr. Knight and his daughter a week after they'd hunkered down, and he had made no promises to retrieve them but did promise to keep an eye out. They both knew if they were close to Steve they would be watched like a hawk. Now, recent intelligence had told him that security had slackened, figuring that it'd been too long and if Steve wanted them he would've gotten them. That was the perfect time to slip in.

Smirking softly to himself, he turned and headed for the hallway. Their guests would arrive in an hour. He intended it to be a surprise. The look on the Captain's face would be worth it.

~

"Did you /see/ that motherfuckin' snake this mornin' on our run?! That's the type of snake that eats you /alive/!" Sam was shuddering, "I normally ain't afraid of spiders, either, but in this jungle? You don't know if it'll kill you in an hour or a minute! I squash every one I see, especially if it's in my God damn bathtub when I shower!"

"So compared to the camel spiders you would rant on about, you're new fear is jungle spiders?" Steve teased. The snake had been /huge/. He would think it was an anaconda, but it could very well be something else and a lot more dangerous. The jungle was filled with more dangerous creatures than a city. Steve couldn't help but to feel on edge from it. "Can't fault you for it. Every time I hear a roar I keep thinking to myself what kind of animal is it, how fast, and how big."

Their runs were usually three miles out along a special path T'Challa had assigned to them, and three miles back. A marker was at each mile along with a tent in case it miraculously started to rain or if any of them were injured or otherwise in danger. It had an animal barge around it as well so if they were being chased by anything with fur they could duck behind the electrical fence. "So, so glad for the safe zones, man, you have /no/ idea. That jaguar last month nearly gave me a heart attack," Sam put his hand on his chest as he thought about it, and then smacked Steve's knee, "I'm /also/ glad this gives me a chance to run /with/ you for a change instead of you running circles around me. 'On your left!'" he mocked.


Steve laughed. "Those were the days weren't they?" He grinned at Sam. Even though Steve usually pushed his limits and ran as fast as he could, in this environment it was impossible. Not that Sam couldn't handle himself, but danger was everywhere, unpredictable, and unsuspecting. A blind-sided attack was anyone's downfall. Steve wasn't upset about it, however. He always thought of it as a type of training. What to do and how to survive. The jungle as vast as it was, isolated and away from civilization, really brought out the flavor of mystery, and story telling. He heard people in the village talk of scary stories and they made Steve's skin crawl with their imagination. The jungle to them was a protector...and a destroyer. "Clint is having a grand time shooting arrows with some of the Hunters. I feel bad to drag him away from his family, but he's good at meeting up with them at secret places." It was one of the things that T'Challa liked about Clint. Easy in, easy out, no detection. At first, it wasn't like that, but Clint was sassy as he was smart. "He was bragging about his kill the other day. What was it again?"

"Some dear-like animal...Chittal?" Sam hummed with a shrug, "Their antlers are different than a buck, they make more of a half-moon shape instead of a bunch of spikes. He was really enthralled by it and the hunters are showing him how to make a more traditional bow out of it." He looked up at the ceiling which was high up, "I'm glad for Clint meeting with his family and all...but I can see how Wanda is missing Vision. They were starting to test the waters for a possible relationship when they were ripped apart, and Pietro...he's still in that cryo back at the Stark Tower. At least none of us died this time, or almost died. I know I say that more than I should, I'm sorry man," he shook his head.

"Two of them are in cryo." Steve's expression gently faltered before saddening. "I hope that he wakes up soon, and finds us. I hope Stark doesn't try to get him to do anything stupid. We...were blind to a lot of things during that war. I'm not saying that we didn't do the right thing, the Accords were..." an invasion and a complete violation of the Constitution. Steve knew that. Everyone who had a head knew that. "I just wish the best is all."

"You don't need to explain anything to me, Cap. I miss my PTSD group and being able to go places freely...and pizza...but hey, that's the small stuff. There's a much bigger picture here and I'll stand with you," he patted his knee again and stood up with a stretch, "I'm going to go find something else to do for a while. I'll catch you later!" he waved and stuffed his hands into his pockets, disappearing around the corner to the hallway.

Steve watched Sam go and felt a pang in his chest. Sam was golden, so much so that he doubted he could ever repay his friendship. He stuffed his hands into his pocket and decided to wander around the Palace again till he found a training ring. He could take some frustration out.

~*~

"I know it hurts you every time I go see my family...I feel bad when I do...but every time I tell you I'm sorry you tell me not to worry about it," Clint groaned as he walked beside Wanda with no particular direction in mind, "I'm tired of avoiding you after each run because I feel guilty...I wish there was something we could do, but Vision is ninety-nine point nine percent on Tony's side..."

"As he should be." Wanda said softly. "He is firm in his path, and that is fine. The only thing that I wish is to see him. It is all. I don't want you to feel guilty. My brother and I are grateful to you. I am grateful to you. Besides, you have a baby now. And your children need a father. How can I fault you for being in their lives? How is little Nathaniel?"

"Nate is doing well. Healthy...I try to make sure he doesn't feel abandoned each time I go but I'm sure he does," Clint's eyes dropped to the ground, "Retirement was supposed to be relaxing and fun. I guess there's no such thing for an Avenger, huh?"

"I am not sure about that. I hear about your hunting trips." Wanda smiled pleasantly. "Though I am sure you'd much rather be with your family. I wonder if T'Challa would be generous enough to allow your family to come here. They aren't apart of the war. And family is a concern to the Wakanda people."

"I've considered that, but I'm not sure...it may have been five months but I still don't feel like this place is safe. It wouldn't...suit my kids. They should stay in America, in that little country house of ours. My wife is a tough cookie, she can handle this," he nodded to himself, and then looked up as they turned the corner. Then suddenly stopped, holding his handout to stop Wanda, trying to register what he was seeing.

They had somehow meandered their way toward the docking bay and coming out of the hangar into the lobby was Dr. Knight and... "Kerica?" Clint murmured.

Brunette head jerking up, jade eyes darted to them and Kerica dropped her bags, "Wanda! Clint!" she bolted right for them and Clint with his family instinct, bent his knees and opened his arms, catching the little five-foot pixie, "I've missed you!"

"Jesus...and we've missed you..." Clint tightened his arms around her and had one hand on her head, stroking her hair a little bit as he rocked her from side to side, letting out a heavy breath of relief, "You're a sight for sore eyes, kiddo." He released her, and watched her turn to Wanda, and the water-works were instant for both girls.

"Kerica." Wanda quickly grabbed the woman into a hug tightly and silent tears had started to come down her eyes. "I have missed you. I had wondered where you were, if you were okay. I am glad to see you."

"I am glad to see you, Wanda," Kerica sniffed, "Just when I started to think I was forgotten, some of...T'Calla's men came for us. I was scared at first, but their leader answered the passcode right..." she squeezed Wanda tighter before pulling away. "I have something for you, specifically. It's in my bag," she let out a soft laugh and wiped her eyes, then Wanda's own tears, "I can't wait to see everyone else."

Clint patted Kerica's head, "You definitely don't want to mess with a Pixie," he alluded and Kerica just nodded, "I'm sure Steve's in the training room, but uh...you'll have to get a map from T'Calla or someone else. It's hard to give directions of this place."

"Ha, I understand," Kerica nodded, "I'll give you your present later, okay? Once I have a room where I can dump my shit and find it, anyway."

Wanda nodded. "It is fine. Take your time. T'Challa undoubtedly already knows you're here."
"Our arrival was intended to be a surprise, unknown to anyone but T'Calla," Dr. Knight walked over, his bag over his shoulder and he handed Kerica hers.

"Meara! Good to see you," Clint clapped him on the shoulder.

"I would greatly appreciate it if you actually /lead/ me to wherever your infirmary is, Clint. I was giving specific orders, requests, what have you to go see the man who incited all of this," Meara chuckled.

"Buck is in cryo, but yeah, sure," Clint nodded and turned to Wanda, "Don't get into too much trouble."

"I won't." Wanda waved to the two of them and turned to Kerica. "Shall I lead you to Steve, or do you wish to be lead to T'Challa to get a room? I am eager to see the present you have."

"I have waited five months to see Steve, I can wait a little longer. Let's go get me a room. I need a shower, that plane ride took a while," Kerica yawned, "Hopefully it'll wake me up. I promise, you'll like your present...after you cry a little again," she gave her a lopsided smile.

"Come on then." Wanda smiled brightly and lead her through the palace.

~*~

Clint had jokingly called him a workaholic, but in retaliation he had said now he was there he was going to evaluate and have a therapy session with each and every one of them. That shut him up. By how the two had looked broken, it was necessary. Sam had spotted him as well, but with a quick wink he had snapped his jaw shut.

After the archer had left, and Meara was staring at the cryo chamber, he placed his hand on it, scowling at the glass.

"I bet no one has seen that look."

Whipping around, long brown hair flying over his shoulder, Meara's two-toned eyes started into brown ones and was immediately floored. These eyes were firm. Calm. Steady. The eyes of a King. "T'Challa, pleasure."

"That expression reminded me of a mother tiger's when her cubs are threatened," T'Challa's smirk creeped onto his lips and he stepped forward slowly. "One silver, one blue. I have never seen eyes like yours. Most common is blue and green, yes?"

"That's right. Yes, I do feel like my cubs have been hurt and hurt deeply. I am very protective of my patients. Watching the fights on TV back in America...that hurt my very soul," Meara agreed.

A moment of regard before he started to walk around the infirmary, "I looked you up and I feel like I was right to bring you here. You cannot bare to see anyone in pain. That is why you are a doctor. A noble reason not many have these days, I believe."

"No, they don't," Meara nodded, "You and your men are the only stable people I see here. Clint, Wanda, Sam...they're all torn up inside and I want to help them."

"Yet...you're not the only one who can, which is why I knew it would be foolish to leave your daughter behind. Steve specifically requested you two, but at the time it was very dangerous to comply. I can be patient when I need to be, however, and patient I was. It paid off," T'Challa nodded to himself.

Meara removed his hand from the glass and moved away, grabbing his bag and he went to the cabinets. Moving things like he owned the place, he opened his bag and started to put things away, "I have taught my daughter well. People chalk it up to being observant, but you obviously know that is not true."

"Soul Readers," T'Challa nodded, "It is rare."

"Sometimes even though I can read the Soul, I cannot fix it, so we will see what I can do for Bucky. Once I get set up here, I will take the rest of my things to my assigned room, freshen up, and get to work on the others. I need to put all of the pieces together and read the reports on Bucky's condition before I can do anything. This could take me a few weeks to accomplish," Meara stressed, "I'm not a miracle worker, though some of my patients have said I am."

"I understand, and I will give you whatever you need," T'Challa swore, hand on his chest over his heart, bowing.

Meara turned and bowed back politely, "I thank you, and I know the others will as well."

"I look forward to seeing Steve being healed, out of all of them, if I am honest," the King admitted quietly, hands behind his back now.

The doctor just smiled knowingly, "It might take a little time for them to get back into the swing of things, but she will."

"Good." Their conversation ended on that understanding.

~*~

See What I See

That was what was written on the white envelope in red pen in a beautiful scrawl that could only belong to one person.

She carefully opened the letter, heart thudding hard in her chest. She unfolded the letter, took a breath and began to read.


Iubit (Beloved)

Words...even written ones cannot begin to describe my heart and mind right now. I know you saw it back when you controlled me to leave with Clint, and again on the airfield. I have always wondered at 'the eyes are the windows to the soul' saying. Yet...looking back...that is why I was distracted when I hurt Rhodes. Our eyes were the same swirl of pain and misery equaled only by determination for our respective causes.

I write this...to tell you that I do not hate you. I...can never bring myself to hate you, blame you. In...a way I believe I am proud of you, for fighting for what you believe in, even if the sides we took are opposite this time. I have faith we will be side by side again when a fight bigger than ourselves arises, like you and I know it will. I look forward to that. Even if the truce is temporary...

Call me selfish, for saying I want to save you. You obviously can care for yourself, but I want to use my body to shield yours from harm, to carry you to safety. Be near you in any way, shape or form.

My chest...it hurts. I miss you. I long for you. I want to try to make Chicken Paprikash for you again, this time with paprika in it like it's supposed to. At least I didn't burn it, yes?

Do not worry about Pietro. I will look out for him, I swear to you. If he is brought from cryo and healed, I will find a way to let you know, as well as Clint for that matter. I hope he is caring for you.

I trust this letter to Kerica knowing she will treasure it, knowing Steve will send for her. I will try to loosen security after a time steadily so she can be with you to give this to you, and to be with Mr. Rodgers.

Not...everyone should have to be this tortured inside.

Be well, stay safe.

Vision

Her heart felt like it was being torn to shreds. She laughed when he mentioned the dish, and felt her heart break as he described the torment that he was feeling. She wished, desperately wished, that there was a way for him to get a letter back. Tears dripped down her cheeks as she held the letter close to her heart, as if somehow some way Vision could feel it, and know that he was forgiven.

They would fight on the same side once more, she promised herself that.

~*~

Steve finished off working himself up. He had beaten only two punching bags out of commission, mostly because of how enhanced they were. It was kind of nice to have longer-lasting ones than the ones that normally were used in the training gyms. They wouldn’t hold up to his strength, and at least with this bag, he was able to unleash at least a bit of it. He walked over to where he put his water, unscrewed the cap, and took a long drink. His mind blissfully blank and relaxed even though he knew the thoughts and worries and whatever else would come back.

He wondered if Bucky was ever going to get out Cryo. He wondered if he was going to see Kerica again. He wondered how long everyone was going to remain in hiding and feeling guilty that Clint couldn’t see his family properly.

He recognized the voice and he turned around swiftly and stared in awe at who it was at the door. "Kerica?" He asked, his voice hoarse and surprised. "If this is one of your dreams, then it feels way to real."

"Is it real? I dunno, you might have to prove it," Kerica's lashes were flashing rapidly as she tried to keep back the tears that made her eyes shine in the light of the gym, "I've had plenty of chances to see you work out, so it's a common dream for me."

"Now you're just being mean." Steve laughed as he walked over towards her. He paused for a moment just...taking her in before he swooped her into a hug and pressing a kiss against her cheek. "I didn't expect you to be here. I missed you."

Squeaking at the kiss, her face heated up and she wrapped her arms around his neck to feel more secure, as her feet /were/ quite far off the ground. They weren't...so she had to resist instinct to wrap her legs around his waist. His arms were strong against her back, and she breathed his scent in deeply, enhanced since he had been wrecking punching bags again, "I had started to think I was forgotten..." she whispered, and when he set her back on her feet she stared up at him, "Then T'Challa's men showed up and answered our passcode right. Do you have /any/ idea how happy I was in that moment?"

"It was a long gamble." Steve sighed softly as he continued to hold her close. "I bet you feel just as happy as I am from seeing you." He didn't want to let her go, but he didn't have much of a choice. He pulled away slowly, like it was painful for him to be away, "How have you been?"

Arms no longer on his neck, she resorted to gripping his shirt though they were now at arms-length, his hands on her shoulders. They were so big and warm... "I'm better now, because you're right, I /am/ happy to see you. Clint and Wanda did kind of beat you to the first sighting, though," she giggled a bit, more of a puffing sound from her nose while she smiled, "Clint took Dad to the infirmary to see Bucky and I already got my room." She knew she seemed clingy by now so she released his shirt and stuck her thumbs in her pants pockets, gripping the fabric. One of his hands fell off her shoulder, but the other stayed on her back while they walked towards a bench so they could be more comfortable while they talked, "The last five months have been more or less boring...I don't think I'm going to touch a book for a month in itself. It hurt Nat, but I felt betrayed so the only one from Tony's team I saw was Vision. I gave Wanda a letter from him...that was heartbreaking."

"Nat did redeem herself and I can't blame her nor fault her for what she was thinking." Steve said softly. "Our five months haven't been much better besides running and discovering so many different kinds of animals that can kill you in a heartbeat."

"I don't know how Nat redeemed herself to you, you'll have to tell me when that happened," Kerica shrugged, "The jungle is /huge/. Once we broke through the clouds I couldn't see anything but. You can't tell me you've been doing your morning runs in there!" she stared at him with wide eyes.

"T'Challa has a little runway set up for me and Sam so we don't go to stir crazy. We can't race each other because of how unpredictable the attacks are." Steve shrugged. "But it's something. I'll tell you that another time. I just don't want you to hold a grudge."

"I understand," Kerica nodded, and then the tears returned, startling her and she stiffened, blinking rapidly again. Shaking her head, she tried to breathe, "I've...cried a lot...I don't want to again...but I just missed everyone...and I miss training with Natasha, drunk night with Tony, philosophical talks with Vision...hugging Clint and Wanda when I got here was just so /relieving/," she hiccuped, "We need to have dinner together, all of us. I...I...I need to hear everyone laugh again. Seeing you all fight...I wanted to be out there with you, but what am I? I wasn't even an official Avenger. I'm not special. No super strength, no super agility..."

"Hey. Stop." Steve gently wrapped an arm around her. "You are special. Clint has nothing either don't forget, he's just very well practiced at using a bow. To be honest, I'm glad you weren't there in the line of fire. I do understand missing everyone. It's horrible that we're all split apart, and hopefully, one day, we'll be able to do that." He squeezed her close. "You just have to hold on to hope."

Breaking down, Kerica soaked Steve's shirt with something other than sweat as she buried her face into his chest. She'd bottled it all in after the second week, only shedding a few tears here and there in passing, but here, now...she couldn't stop. He soothed her, but she barely heard it over her choked sobs. She missed everyone so damn /much/. It took quite a while before she was able to calm down. Wiping her nose on her sleeve, she pulled back and wiped her eyes as well, "I'm sorry...I've been thinking negatively too much. I didn't mean to spew all that..."

"Shh, it's okay." Steve gently helped her wipe away her tears. "It's really okay." He gave her a smile, "It's been rough."

She leaned into his touch, feeling more emotionally exhausted than anything else now, "I am hopeful for that. Right now, though, dad told me to focus on one thing at a time...so I'll do that. My goal is to help you guys, but obviously not with the fighting. It was small, but Wanda and Clint brightened up when they saw me. I'm going to find the rest of your group and say hello, cry a bit more I'm sure, and my current, more realistic hope is to see you guys get better. They were dim...you were dim...but I'm starting to feel better now that you guys are better, even just a little."

"I don't know where Sam ran off to, so you're going to have to see if you can hunt him down. God knows what Scott's up to." Steve laughed. "Do you want me with you or do you want to do this yourself?"

"I'd like you to be with me. Seeing your friends find a new spark would do you some good, too," Kerica said firmly.

"Okay." Steve smiled, "Come on, then."

()

Sam's mind was whirling. If Meara was here, then where was Kerica? Was she with Steve? He for damn sure hoped that was the case. As he leaned over the veranda, the stone supporting his weight easily, he stared out at the jungle before him. The air was humid, but he didn't mind it too much. "Crap..." he muttered to himself, realizing something, "Keri has asthma, I hope she is okay in this blasted weather," he shook his head and then nearly jumped out of his skin a second later.

"Awwww, that's so sweet of you to think of me, Sam!" The little woman was beaming as Sam turned around faster than Steve had and had his hand on his chest, "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

"You /are/ here!" eyes lighting up Sam was happy to see Steve beside her, "I /knew/ if there was anyone you'd be with, it would be him. Finally! He's been down in the dumps for too long since Buck went into cryo," he jumped over and scooped her up, spinning her around once and hugged her, "Good to see you!"

Kerica's laugh filled the air and she squeezed him back, "Likewise!"

Steve grinned brightly. "We were hoping to run into you and Scott. You got any idea where the ant man ran off to? Or is he down small again and disappearing?" Since he could be so small, Scott had more freedom than most of the ex-Avengers.

"Hey, I haven't seen you grin like that since before this whole mess," Sam punched Steve in the chest lightly, "Scott's probably terrorizing the technicians, messing with their stuff since it is /so/ easy for him to get bored."

"I do not terrorize anyone." A man said with a bright smile. He ambled over to them, running a hand through his already messy hair. "So is this the famous Kerica Knight I've been hearing about from you two. This is even more of a honor. I get to meet Captain America's girlfriend. I'm Scott Lang. This is...just wow." He shook her hand, beaming.

Steve laughed. "Speak of the devil and he comes."

"Devil-ant." Scott frowned at Steve, still shaking Kerica's hand absently. "I think that sounds too much like Daredevil to be honest."

"Yeah, just Ant-Man works," Kerica agreed her face red, and she patted his hand with her free one, her smile awkward when he realized he was taking too long to stop shaking her hand, "S-Steve and I aren't...together...like, one coffee date and then he went off to Wakanda and after that everything went to hell. So...yeah."

Sam just groaned, rubbing his face, "Oh my God you are so dense."

Kerica rounded on him, "I'll be less dense once..." 'He actually calls me his girlfriend...' "One date does not equal instant boyfriend/girlfriend status." She dismissed /Sam/ by turning back around to Scott, "Anyway, it is quite the pleasure to meet you. I saw you fighting with them. Your suit looks pretty interesting. I don't want to be much smaller than I already am, though. You can keep /that/ ability and I wouldn't mind."

Sam looked at Steve sideways with a bemused half-smile, brows up, knowing Steve could read him easily, 'You have some work to do.'

Scott only smiled widely as Steve answered his own look back, I know. "Yeah. I like that ability. Have to admit I always thought that I managed to get off the criminal ledger but, nah, I think being a bad-boy is more my style." He turned to look at the two of them. "So I heard that our long time frozen friend is finally going to get the help he needs? Considering Kerica's dad's here an all."

"Yeah," Steve nodded his agreement, folding his arms. "I'm hoping it'll be soon."

"I wouldn't want to freeze like that for too long myself." Scott agreed. "So what's everyone's plans. Just gather in the foyer and hope no one comes to trample us?"

"Well, I was hoping for dinner with everyone, but that's several hours away. Maybe I could just spend a little one-on-one time with everyone until then? Give you all the refresh you need. Do whatever it is you guys do here."

"Lunch is soon," Sam hummed, elbowing Steve discretely as Kerica looked at Scott, "I'd say leave that pest to his devices until after dinner, though, so you can drink together."

Kerica perked a bit, glancing at Scott with curiosity, "You can be my new drinking buddy? You look like a scotch or whiskey type of person."

"Both. Both is good. Both in a glass sounds like suicide but hey I'm willing to risk it. It'll be nice to drink with someone that isn't mopey all the time or cant get drunk. I need someone to compete with at my level." Scott replied with a laugh. "But yeah, sure. Definately just hit me up. The ants usually know where I am."

"Underground trying to hit on the Queen." Steve replied.

"Okay, no." Scott turned towards Steve. "Just...no. No. Double no. N. O. I'd go for something much hotter than a Queen Ant."

"If you're trying to go for someone hotter, you should leave the compound," Sam rolled his eyes, "We only got a place full of ugly mugs and both ladies are off-limits."

"Suggesting yourself, Sam?" Kerica grinned.

"Are you calling me a lady?" Sam gaped at her.

"You're certainly not an ugly mug," Kerica countered.

"I'm not sure how to respond to that."

Steve just laughed and shook his head from side to side. "Regardless of it. Kerica, do you want to have lunch with me? Get away from these two tricksters?"

"Please." Scott rolled his eyes as he waved his goodbye. "I'm leaving first before the kissing scene starts." He pretended to start smooching before he turned away.

Sam winked at Steve and patted him on the back, "I'll just follow his lead. Enjoy you're lunch," he grinned and went the opposite way around the door.

Kerica giggled softly as she and Steve were left alone, "They weren't being very discrete at all, not that I would say no anyway," she smiled at Steve, "You'll have to lead me around, wherever it is we can go to have lunch. I don't know the layout of this place at all."

"It's not that far. It may seem big, but this place isn't too much of a maze." Steve told her as he held out his arm to her. When she took it, he lead her down the hallway, smiling and content.

()

The daylight was meant for the living. The night...was meant for the dead, or those not currently among them.

Bucky was certainly not dead, but he looked like it frozen in that tube.

Kerica had had this idea in her head since she had met with Steve in the gym. The one who started this whole rebellion, even if Steve had told her months ago he didn’t have any intention to sign the paperwork in the first place. Bucky had just solidified everything.

Now she had dinner with everyone, and that had made everyone really happy. Then she proceeded to go to the bar with Scott and /almost/ drank him under the table. Then again it was fairly even ultimately. They had talked while drinking, and while the alcohol had been strong - he took the scotch while she had whiskey - and had hit her pretty hard after the third-forth shot, any drink except vodka did not stay in her system for very long at all. Scott had said it wasn't fair at the end, because while he was almost tripping on his face, she just had a wobble. She was also a strange person because many a time people told her they didn't remember things after a certain point, and Kerica was a very self-aware person, and even now, six hours later, she remember a good chunk of their conversation.

So, slightly tipsy, exhausted, and happy...Kerica was also sad. Her eyes even drooped where she sat but she refused to go to bed. She had even left her room after saying goodnight to the whole lot once she was sure they were out cold.

Clock chiming deep within the compound somewhere, Kerica straightened up, “Well, Buck, it’s the witching hour, and regardless of anyone’s beliefs, this is when I feel most comfortable. Damn long plane ride and an emotional rollercoaster this whole time, and yet I couldn’t sleep, refused to, until I came to see you.”

She hummed softly and stroked her fingers on the glass, frowning at the biting cold even through it. She couldn’t imagine being in cryo. “I don’t know about you, but I hate the cold. I kind of understand you thought you weren’t safe, Bucky, but still...it boggles my mind trying to figure out why you would subject yourself to this contained tundra. Didn’t you have enough of that in Russia? Dumbass.”

Who in this group of theirs would think she was silly for talking to someone who couldn’t even hear her? She supposed it was the same concept as people reading to those in a coma. Though...granted, people in a coma weren’t usually in a tube. He probably couldn’t hear a damn thing even in the seconds before he closed his eyes to sleep. So why would she be heard now?

“Logic be damned...it makes me feel better talking to you, damn it,” Kerica muttered, her forehead joining her hand and a deep sigh fogged the glass, “No one’s told me such, but I just know that Steve comes to talk to you, too. How couldn’t he? He sacrificed it all...” ‘Sacrificed the possibility to be with me again…’ “To save you, to fight for you. You would have died on sight if he didn’t step in. Yet...yet you made him sad. You put yourself in a freezer and he lost his best friend again. What if they didn’t find anything? Would you have stayed here forever? Would you have rather had a bullet in your head execution style because you can’t pull the damn trigger? Would you have had Steve do it? He wouldn’t. Might as well put one in him, too. You’re his world, Buck. You may have known that once upon a time, but do you now? He’s not whole without you. He won’t be happy, not really, until you’re unfrozen.”

‘Not even I can make him truly smile...’

She could have been left back in America for years until some bigger, badder monster showed up, and she knew it. All Steve really wanted was Bucky back. How could she compete with that? Their relationship went way back. Before even her grandparents thought about having her parents, let alone her father having her. When she joined and entertained hopes and dreams of being with Steve, reality had struck that he had bigger fish to fry and she was just another unimportant, disposable Agent. Even when Nat started training her, which had been a great honor, she had thought it was just smoke in the wind.

Then he asked her on a coffee date, and she’d been happy, though skeptical. Did he really see her as someone worth his attention? Someone worth having by his side, fighting with him? Would he go more old-school and believe she deserved to stay home wondering if he’d come back alive?

Then the pain settled in after Steve had returned from Wakanda. In-between all of the important things, when he did manage to say hi to her as they passed in the hallway...that was all it had been. He didn’t even look at her. Not really. She had told him she was glad he was home safe, he’d said thanks and jumped in the elevator down the hall. His eyes had been haunted, lost in the past. Then he left to Peggy’s funeral.

“Before...all this, Buck, Steve told he he couldn’t dance during a coffee date we had. I was sad, but I wonder if it is more ‘he won’t’ because he promised Peggy a dance before he was also frozen. I have had a couple people tell me I might as well be a Peggy incarnate because I not only look like her but I act like her. Does Steve...” ‘Only think of Peggy when he looks at me? Does he love you and Peggy more?’ At that thought she scoffed at herself. Of course he did, and asking for love in the first place was a tall order. They weren’t even significant others. Just one date! One little kiss on her cheek, and that was just a greeting!

Chest twisting, she knocked her head on the glass a few times, “I come up with new hopes and they get shattered all over again, Bucky, but I can’t be mad, not at you, not at her. Just at myself. Why do I even try? I keep hurting myself, and I can’t stop. I just need to step back and leave well enough alone, but I don’t want to. He needs you, he wants you. You’ve all he’s got left of his past, Buck. I think I’m a ghost. People notice me when I’m here, but I’m...easily forgotten I guess. That was how they all looked at me, anyway, like I was an apparition appearing out of nowhere.”

A pause, and Kerica gave the man behind the glass a rueful smile, “You should know that old saying, Buck...you don’t realize what you’re missing until it’s gone?”

Yet that fit them both, didn’t it?

“My dad will find a way to help you so we can get you out of the freezer, and you can actually talk to me. I’m driving myself insane and even more depressed the more I go on,” Kerica sighed deeply and turned around, glad and yet disappointed she was still alone.

“There I go again, Bucky, hoping against hope someone was listening to my ranting,” she drawled and grabbed a few blankets off the medical tables around the infirmary, going back to the tube and she got as comfortable as she possibly could. “It’s like cuddling a pop-sickle, you asshole,” she muttered, but her head thunked against the glass and she closed her eyes anyway.

T’Challa watched her for a time longer, as she slumped some more and fell into a much deeper sleep, the day and her emotions catching up to her. He looked at the recorder in his hands and headed off to his own room where he could put together the silent security footage with the audio to match. Whether or not the Captain in question decided to listen to it was up to him. After all, he was big on privacy and wouldn’t like sticking his nose into other people’s business. However...if he crushed it or watched it, either way, he had to give it to him tomorrow.

~*~

The morning came, and T’Challa miraculously caught Steve before he and Sam went on their morning jog. Both were confused, but he simply smiled, “I am sure our fellow Captain would easily be able to catch up to you, Sam. I must steal him for a little while, however.”

“I am sure he would,” Sam agreed, “I’ll wait here, though, thanks. That jungle’s terrifying going in alone.”

“As you wish. Steve?” T’Challa nodded and sauntered back the other direction.

Steve looked at Sam for a moment, but once he was assured that he was going to be okay on his own, he followed T'Challa to where he needed to go. They stayed quiet, allowed the noises of the jungle birds and other animals echo around them. "You wanted to speak with me, your highness?" Steve asked after a moment from the walk.

"Per se," T'Challa hummed, hands laced behind his back, walking in-stride beside the Captain, not slow as he had a destination, but leisurely, "You know, the change in your comrades was rapid. I know you are all unhappy here...grateful but unhappy. Kerica's and Meara's arrival made me dizzy with how quickly your smiles returned."

Steve nodded, though uncertain on where this was going. "We missed her. I missed her." He shook his head from side to side. "Speaking of Meara, has he found a way to help Bucky? I'm not trying to put pressure..."

"By the end of today he might be more solid in his ideas," T'Challa assured, "I spoke with him yesterday, and I think he may be on to something. I am simply waiting for him to give me the word. He was tired, though. Flight did not seem to do him any favors." He shrugged, turning a corner, and noticed Steve seemed to realize where they were going, "He also told me he wishes to have therapy sessions with all of you about what happened. You will not deny him, will you?"

"It's not my style." Steve shook his head from side to side. "So I won't be taking part in it, though if anyone else wants to...I won't be against it, even encourage it if need be."

T'Challa was not surprised. Sam seemed to be the one Steve confided in the most. That was therapy in itself, he supposed. "As you will," he dismissed, and once at another corner, he didn't stop as Steve stiffened. The infirmary was only a little bit further, and once at the door, he turned to him, “Before you go in, take this,” he plopped a small flashdrive in Steve’s hand, “You’ll understand in a moment. As it is...watch it when you think it’s time, not out of curiosity. You know what that does to the cat, right?” he gave him an impish smirk. Then he shrugged, “You can also crush it, it doesn’t matter to me.” Waving his hand, he turned and left.

Steve looked down at the flash drive, wondering what it could be, but taking heed in the warning. He slipped it into his pocket and took a breath as he walked into the infirmary where Bucky laid frozen and Dr. Knight was looking over him. "Any changes?"

Meara put his finger to his lips, and motioned for him to come in further, and then down at the ground, "Only that."

Steve looked down at where Meara was pointing at and bit back a sigh. She was sleeping next to Bucky's cryo chamber. It was a little depressing to see, considering that it reminded him of the times where he would do the same and had to have Sam drag him off. Why Kerica would be in here with Bucky, he didn't know and had a sneaking suspicion that's why T'Challa gave him the small flash drive. He bent down and gently shook her. "Keri." He murmured. "The floor isn't a good place to sleep, especially when it gets cold. You're going to get sick."

Kerica made incomprehensible noises, before he shook her again and she took a deep breath in through her nose, tensing and stretching a little bit, before snapping back into a curled up position with a shiver, "Buksh deh one whosh an ass fer bein' a popsicle." she slurred sleepily.

"Yeah, well...." Steve gently picked her up, cradling her to his chest and determined to get her to sleep in her own bed. "You can lecture him later when he gets up and out of the chamber."

Meara found it adorable how she looked all that much smaller in Steve's arms, and gave Steve a smile, "One quick question, then you can take her. As your thoughts and the paperwork I have can be two different things, I have to know...Buck was brainwashed, was he not? That was how he got out of the restraints and escaped when you caught him?"

"Yeah. Words....though he's not sure of what they are or what they mean. Code phrases in particular." Steve nodded.

"That's an entirely different ballgame, then..." Meara looked down at his notes with a deep frown. He glanced at Buck, then at the two of them, before waving his hand in a 'shoo' gesture, "Take her to her room. I just couldn't bring myself to wake her up, so thank you."

"No problem...." Steve paused uncertain and asked carefully. "Do you think he can be fixed? Healed even?"

"Everyone has a chance to recover, but only if they want to," he shook his head, "Regardless on if you say he does, that is something I need to hear from his own mouth. He wouldn't like being unfrozen without having anything worthwhile, though, so just give me a little more time, Captain. My mind is swimming, and I need to sort them out and speak with T'Challa again. Only he can provide me with what I need."

"Right....I'll leave you to it then." Steve took a final look at Bucky, mentally telling his friend that he'd be back to visit soon before carrying Kerica out of the medical bay, holding her close and his own thoughts swimming.

Meara watched him go with a soft sigh and tapped his board on the glass, "You're a lot of trouble, mister. You better make this worth it yourself. You don't want to see a good doctor get angry. I just might tie the bandages too tight next time you injure yourself." With that unheard threat, he went back to mulling over his ideas.

~*~

"Not sure what to make of your current facial expression, Cap," Sam huffed as he tried to keep up with Steve, "You're making gooves in the dirt with your steps," another huff, "If I told you to go on without me -grunt- you'd be at the third base in ten minutes, I swear!"

"I thought you were worried about the Jungle and all of it's animals attacking you since you're slower than me." Steve quipped and paused in his words. "Kerica was sleeping by Bucky's chamber."

"Okay...yeup...tell me," he pretended to pull down his imaginary glasses, "How did that make you feel?" he snorted a chuckle and shook his head, "Seriously, man, you must be reeling. Hasn't even met the guy face to face and she's already acting like they were attached at the hip. Hey, wonder who that reminds me of..."

"It wasn't that I found her there that made me...." Steve did a gesture with his hands trying to convey his feelings, but probably failed. "T'Challa gave me a flash drive. I got a feeling is has something to do with why she was in the chamber."

"Ooooh," Sam's eyes widened at Steve, "That is something I wasn't expecting to hear," he admitted, "It probably is. You want to watch it when we get back? Or did cat dude have some cryptic message to go along with his gift?"

"When it's time and not out of curiosity though he's not going to be at all surprised if I decide to break it." Steve shrugged. "I don't think it's my place to watch it. Whatever she said to Bucky, well...it's not my place to know. She said it to him, not me. Whether he heard or not, well that's up to debate just like coma patients."

"Curiosity kills the cat, why would that /not/ surprise me if he said that?" Sam grumbled, "If you think it's too private, then crush it. I, however, doubt he would have given it to you if he didn't think it was important and beneficial to you. Insight into her head or something. She's always so chipper, on the other hand, so whatever it was might be really heartbreaking. She was talking to a frozen man, after all."

"I'll keep it for another time." Steve decided after a moment. "Though I'm still not exactly happy that her privacy was a little invaded."

Of course he wasn't. Sam smiled to himself and shook his head again, glad when he saw the first base in sight, "Finally!" he groaned, "Okay, different topic, anyway, did you manage to talk to Meara?"

"I did. For a bit." Steve shook his head. "he said that there's something he had to ask T'Challa since it's only something he can provide. Other than that, Bucky hasn't changed and unless we wake him up, we don't know if he wants to be healed or not. Even if I could vouch otherwise. No point in waking him up to ask useless questions and just put him back to sleep again."

"I agree with Meara on that one, actually. If you don't want to be healed, or better yet, want to but don't believe you can be, then nothing will change," Sam frowned a bit and he slowed and entered the first base tent once Steve got the gate, "We've waited five months, Steve. I think we can wait a couple more days or weeks. Meara will figure something out."

~*~

"I was wondering when you would contact me again. I honestly was not expecting you to find a possible solution to our friend's friend so soon. Judging by our last conversation, however, you seemed to have been on the right track," T'Challa admitted as he joined Meara in his new established office. He took a glance at all the different notes and papers. An organized mess, more or less.

"Yes, well...not everything can get solved overnight, but I wasn't a young doctor for no good reason," Meara agreed, "Steve confirmed for me that he was brainwashed. That put my mind on a parallel but different track. There are two different versions of mind-control and brainwashing to my knowledge...that you black out and don't remember, or you are like you a spectator and you can see and remember everything, but you're powerless to stop it. That can mess with someone on a deeper level emotionally and mentally. Trauma like that can ruin anyone. It takes a strong person to pull through and keep fighting, which Bucky did. That shows me there's a chance. Yet...I can't do anything to help him myself. I can only give opinions and tell you how I see it, but I don't have that type of healing. I use splints and pills, not..."

"Herbs and healing smoke?" T'Challa offered.

"Yes. What we need is a Spiritual Healer, someone who can touch his soul in a way no one here besides maybe Steve can do. Steve is his closest friend, and he would listen to Steve, but there's a limit to even friendship and love for one another," Meara frowned.

"There is the Atrum Tribe my family has had a treaty with for...generations. There is a hardy carrier pigeon that is bred in order to send messages between us and only us," T'Challa smiled, "I can write a letter and send word to them to send their best and brightest."

Meara lit up, "I have heard whispers of the Atrum, among their other names from other countries. They are a Mountain people and date a long time back. Yes, that is what I am going for."

T'Challa stood, "Then I shall do that. It may take a week or more for them to arrive, however."

"Steve will have to find a way to contain himself until then," Meara smiled.

"We both know that way happens to be a person, and that person is your daughter," T'Challa smirked a bit.

"Indeed."

~*~

Nyah was up in one of the larger of the trees on the mountain. Her legs dangled on the branch as she watched the little children playing below her. Her eyes soft and her smile bright as she hummed a playful tune as they played a game of kick ball. Kick ball was vastly different from other countries. These had three goals, a large one, a medium sized one, and a small one that formed a triangle. The smallest goal, naturally was the most points. It took a lot of skill and cunning to get the small goal. If the goal was won three times in a row, the game was set and match. Otherwise, a point system was used in order to determine the winner.

“Nyah!”

Nyah turned to see a white woman coming over towards the tree. The kids didn’t stop their playing, so the woman had to find her way around the children to get to the tree. Despite her skin color, she wore the traditional reds and golds of the tribe. Though she would never be allowed to wear the darkest reds or the blues the Atrum held dear and true to their heart. She was no assassin, nor healer of their caliber.

She jumped down from her perch, landing gracefully without sound. She stood up and tilted her head at the woman. “What’s wrong, Teresa?”

Teresa was a doctor of physical healing and the only one in the tribe able to do it. According to the elder villagers, Teresa had been wounded in a raid that was sent on in an area she was working at, and had managed to wander into their domain. Nyah, an orphan and sickly at that, was placed underneath her care. Not that Nyah was better, but she was handling herself well.

A bad heart, after all, should have killed her a long time ago.

“The Elder received a pigeon from the new King of Wakanda.” Teresa explained. “She wants us to meet her in the cottage.”

The highest point of the mountain. Nyah nodded and they headed towards the area. The houses were all built like a cottage. Small, basically a three rooms at maximum. New cottages were being built as time continued to pass, more and more permanent than temporary since they had decided that the mountain had been undisturbed for quite some time. More people were marrying, having children, and the village still flourished underneath it’s secrecy. Nyah worried sometimes on how big the village could get, worried that they would no longer be able to hide….but as the Elder said….the Atrums never usually lived past their twenties if not early thirties. The life expectancy of a baby was higher than an adult.

Then again, assassins killed each other just as they killed their own opponent. Loving a member of the village meant that they’d one day cross paths in another direction. Sometimes in a direction of death.

There was some honor in that at the very least.

The Elder was standing outside the cottage, her clothes dark red and her hair cut short to her chin. Her eyes wrinkled on the side and her feet bare. She smiled a welcome, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Nyah could tell instantly that there was worry…there was fear.

“The King has written to us to ask us for a healer of greatness.” The Elder told them when they approached. “He told me that this has to deal with brainwashing to an extreme. I already have a feeling I know who the patient is. I’m reluctant to send anyone down to the palace, as this is dangerous. However, the King did ask for the best, therefore the best we need to send.”

“So you’re sending us.” Teresa noted, not at all disturbed. “Because we’re the best?”

“You’re the best physical healer that we ever had in our midst. You’re our only healer in that.” The Elder replied softly. “You haven’t taught an heiress, and that’s alright. I’m certain that what little we were able to obtain from you, we can advance in our own ways should you pass on.” She turned to Nyah. “You have always been our strongest supporter. Despite your difficulties, you fight with grace and with determination. You heal with the same methods. So I’m sending you to the palace to heal someone who needs you. You were always able to adapt to the strangest parts of life. Meeting Teresa being one of them. You see things we cannot see, and you hope for things that are beyond our reach. I feel like this man, or woman, needs that.”

“The King will be disappointed not to see an Elder.” Nyah frowned. “Don’t you think so?”

The Elder merely shrugged. “I was disappointed when you were born, Nyah with a heart that couldn’t beat as well as our strongest. I was disappointed you did not die quickly. But look at how the tides change and turn.”

Teresa looked at Nyah and Nyah nodded her consent. “When do we leave?”

“Now. The faster you get there, the better we’re all off. Take the motorcycle. It’ll get you there faster than a horse would. Arm yourselves if you need. The Jungle is very dangerous.” The Elder replied.
~+~

(Plz don't mine time skip, didn't want things to go too quickly in a short amount of time)

"I knew it was too good to be true! A week without danger at our heels?! Like Fate is having that!" Sam screamed as he, Kerica and Steve all ran for their lives towards the last base. It was only a couple more yards away! "That has to be the same one from last month! And the one before!"

"It just wants to be loved!" Kerica laughed.

"Loved?! I bet we are the only game in this whole damn jungle that it hasn't sunk its paws into!" Sam was appalled when she cracked up harder, "How can you laugh at a time like this?! Your girlfriend is insane, Steve!" Steve only bolted the last yard ahead so he could reach the switch to make the fence electric. As soon as Kerica and Sam jumped through he flipped it.

The jaguar bounced off of it and cried out, but it didn't go very far before sauntering back, growling and hissing as it paced the fence. Kerica was still lying on her stomach watching it.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing? Get away from there!" Sam called as Steve fired the flare, illuminating the sky with red glow.

"Shut up, Sam, I'm fine," Kerica scrooted all that much closer, "Hey, pretty baby," she cooed, and watched the cats ears perk and flatten, flickering back and forth. "Yeah, I'm talking to you. Hey, stop movin' so can look at your face, I can't tell if you're a boy or girl."

Miraculously, Sam didn't know how, but after a solid minute the jaguar laid on its stomach to mirror Kerica, and he looked at Steve, "Do you see this?!"

"There's a reason why we call Keri the cat whisperer. Didn't think it'd work on a Jaguar though," Steve admitted as he approached the fence cautiously. He wasn't about to try his luck like Kerica was, and was prepared to do whatever he needed to get her out and away from the jaguar's large mouth, which he was certain could tear the fence to shreds if it wasn't electric. He nearly made a few fast steps when the Jaguar started to move it's paws around, adrenaline telling him to snatch Kerica away from the fence.

The roar of the motorcycle suddenly came closer and the Jaguar quickly got up on it's legs, crouched and ready before suddenly disappearing off into the distance, not liking the loud noise. Steve whipped around, looking at the two figures who were sitting on the motorcycle. One of them clad in a gorgeous gold, while the other was wearing nothing but navy blue, her fingertips bandaged. The girl with the gold had got off immediately before the other managed to park the bike. Her helmet swung off and Steve was a little taken aback to see an older woman. No, not just an older woman, but a woman who clearly was white.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" The woman said, shoving the helmet to the side and stomping over towards Kerica. "You were playing with that thing like it wasn't going to attack you. Animals are unpredictable here, unlike the States! Or wherever the hell you come from."

"You lived here for fourteen years," The girl on the bike side as she took off her helmet. Her head and face covered by a blue mask, the only thing showing was her eyes which were a soulful brown, and reminded Steve of hot chocolate or coffee with cream inside. "And you act like you never seen a Jaguar before. Let alone kids interacting with it."

"You and Sam are both freaking out, don't you realize they sense fear like any other predator?" Kerica had stood up and was dusting herself off, completely calm, "This was a fun morning, though now the adrenaline's worn off my chest hurts..."

"Steve, doesn't that first aid kit have inhalers?" Sam asked as he headed for the tent, flipping the switch back to normal since the danger was gone.

"Yeah it does." Steve called back to Sam. "It should be in the bottom compartment." He turned to the women, the girl with the navy blue had placed her helmet on the handle and turned off the bike. The woman who was white was staring at Steve a little in shock. He felt self-conscious, and worried. Was he found out so soon? He looked over at Kerica. "Here, sit down and lean your back towards me." He urged as he walked over to her and grabbed her by the shoulders, a little tighter than necessary.

"Asthma?" The woman in gold asked. "What in the world are you doing outside in the humidity? That sets it off like nothing else. No, you all need to start heading back to the compound once the inhalers are found. If there's none, Nyah can take you back to where you come from. Why are you in Wakanda anyway? This place is isolated, they don't /have/ visitors." She paused. "Unless you're guests of the King that is..."

"Slow down, guys," Kerica said firmly, sitting like Steve wanted and tried to breathe deep and slow as she settled against him, "I came running with them because I woke up at five and knew they went running around seven, so I said fuck it. My asthma isn't so sever I need medication or inhalers all that much. Maybe when I was twelve, but it's only minor now."

"Hell, running from a large kitty cat makes /my/ chest hurt and I don't have any ailments like that," Sam grumbled as he came back from the tent, "This is our last marker, anyhow. Since we threw up the flair, T'Challa is sending a chopper for us. It's pretty common, they won't think anything of it," he added as he handed Kerica the inhaler he found.

"Everyone's being so rude!" Kerica suddenly said, startling them, "We don't know who you are! I'm Kerica Knight, nice to meet you!" she smiled, waving at them. She popped the lid on it and placed it to her lips. A puff, in, ten second hold, out. A second time and then she put it back together.

Teresa and Nyah both immediately brought their hands together in a prayer position and brought it to their forehead as Kerica introduced herself. “My name is Teresa.” The gold-clad woman said, parting her hands and pushing it away from her forehead like she was offering her name in her palms.

“I’m Nyah.” Nyah also did the same thing and smiled warmly, though obscured by her mask. Her eyes crinkled at the corners. “It is wonderful to meet you, Kerica. Though why do you have two names….” She caught Teresa’s look and nodded her head. “Right, it’s a white custom to have more names than one can have, nor remember in their lifetime.”

“I’m pretty certain I remember my names.” Teresa frowned at Nyah.

“Your last name is temporary till you marry,” Nyah pointed out. “Which I find weird and strange.”

"Sam Wilson," he did a cheep version of whatever it was they did, doing prayer-hands with a small bow  and then split them open and out, shrugging as he rubbed his neck sheepishly, knowing it was all wrong but hey, he tried, "Fourteen years, Teresa? That's a long time. How the hell did you do it? I've been here five months and a week and I'm going crazy."

“It takes a while.” Teresa smiled as she brought her hands into the prayer and brought it to her forehead, but instead of splitting them apart since she already introduced herself, she let her hands hang by her sides. “It took me a long while, but I had patients to look after.” She looked at Nyah with a fond smile. “And a person to raise.” She turned to Sam. “Though we also live in the mountains. We have a bit more of an advantage and a disadvantage than you do down here.”

“If the snake doesn’t hiss, don’t let it fool you.
If the tiger doesn’t growl, don’t let it’s eyes deceive.
You’d be all the more the fool,
If you let yourself become mince meat.” Nyah was looking up at the sky. “That sounds like a good little warning snippet to impart on those who are new to the forest. Though I have to admit if it’s been five months, you’re a little too fearful for my tastes.”

“Again, they’re living in the heart of the jungle. We don’t.” Teresa stepped on Nyah’s foot.

"I'm Steve." Steve introduced, feeling really out of place with the culture that they were bringing. Especially the cloak and dagger Nyah was definitely bringing. He could see the spear strapped on her back and the dagger on her hip. Judging that she was dressed in pure blue and her eyes were the only thing he could see, he decided that she was a fighter of some sort, or a guard. Something or another. "Though what brings you here?"

"They must be on their way to see T'Challa. This path leads right to the compound after all," Kerica concluded, and she patted Steve's arm, "I think I'm okay now and...I hear the chopper. We'll be back in no time."

"He's going to watch you like a hawk the rest of the day," Sam told her.

"I'm aware," Kerica smiled.

"I don't like heights. Teresa do you want to follow them to the compound?" Nyah asked as she headed towards her motorcycle and took her helmet off of the handle, placing it on her head.

"I'll come with you. Undoubtedly they'll announce us to the King." Teresa replied, going over to where she tossed her helmet and putting it on her head. "I'll check up on you when we're at the palace."

Steve watched them get on the cycle and Nyah revved it up before speeding off. He had a faint memory of how he watched Bucky handle a motorcycle what he'd think of the way they were driving. He shook his head and wrapped his arm around Kerica and waited for the chopper to lower the ladder so that they could get on.

~*~

Meara did not really understand why T'Challa looked so angry right now. After Steve and Sam informed them of two women heading their way to to see him, he thought the King would be grateful. They had to be whom he had sent for. Right? The whole lot of them, from Clint to Kerica, were standing around in the throne room, awaiting the two to come inside, escorted by two of T'Challa's guards.

"This is a very big deal, I guess we didn't know just who we were talking to," Kerica muttered to Sam. Steve was standing by T'Challa's left side, an honorary position, and her father on his right. T'Challa had seem very interested and impressed at the first part of their story, but then his expression had gradually soured the further they continued about Teresa and Nyah. He had even asked the specific shade of blue and gold, which only she and Steve had been able to answer, being artists tended to do that.

"I thought they were a little extra strange," Sam agreed, but then watched T'Challa heave a big sigh, shoulders rising and dropping.

"Guards, bring them in," he waved his hand. The doors opened and in strode the two of them. Just the sight of them made his stomach twist and he donned a fierce sneer. When they were close enough everyone in the room could hear them, he held his hands up. Any closer and he might hurt someone. "Introduce yourselves for the rest of my guests. Quickly."

“I am Nyah of the Atrum tribe.” Nyah said, placing her right hand over her heart and bowed, keeping her eyes on T’Challa and when she came out of the bow, she held her wrists, palms up and showing. “Our tribe bled for the king that has died, and will bleed again for the King who sits upon the Throne today.”

“I am Teresa Rivera. I’m temporary of the tribe.” Teresa curtseyed and stood up. She didn’t show her wrists nor her palms. “A doctor.”

Clint watched as T'Challa raised his palms to his forehead in a prayer, then slowly outstreatched his hand as he listed them off on his right. 'Meara, Wanda, Clint, Scott' and he bowed just slightly when his name as called, trying to be respectful. T'Challa did the same on his left, 'Steve, Sam, Kerica.' And with that the King dropped his palms, and Hawkeye's eyes widened as T'Challa immediately boomed, his voice carrying fiercely in the large room.

"I tell you all their names not only so you need not ask again, but because they are special guests, under my protection. You will both swear to me if you leave this compound to go to my cities or villages you will not speak about them," T'Challa ordered. He just wanted this out of the way so he could get to the root of the real reason he was upset.

“We are bound to you and you only.” Nyah’s eyes flashed in anger. “Your secrets are our secrets and your protection is ours. You know this just as well as the other King, unless you forgot us. But enough! You’re angry. You’re upset. Something about our presence disturbs you. Is it not you who called us here? Or were we tricked?”

“Nyah….” Teresa looked at her charge in fear before turning to the King. “You have my promise as well…”

Nyah’s eyes widened and then narrowed. “You asked for the best and you got the best. Are you a fool? My liege, only a fool will not admit his idiocy when the evidence provides. I /am/ the best. You want an Elder? You ask for age, not of skill. Whoever it is that is in trouble, will be more so hurt by your thoughts of what is “best”. If you wanted an Elder, you would have summoned an Elder. But you /asked/ for the best. And the best you got. Do we see you a fool for whether or not you had a doctor in your midst? No. At the same time, it is not like we know what goes on in the Palace. Two doctors better than one. Two doctors, one of which who knows our ways and knows exactly what we’re doing can keep the other doctor from doing harm to a patient.”

She watched the King. “You asked me if you were a fool. You are so easy to jump to conclusions. Your temper was always the fear. Yet you don’t temper it do you? You continue to jump to conclusions. What is your fear, my liege? What makes you jump than to think? For the better of the people? For the better of the person in trouble? Oh no, my liege. If you do that, then you are no wise King. So…yes I’d be tempted to call you a fool.”

Steve stared at Nyah and looked over at Sam and Kerica. Both of whom were also a bit surprised at the outburst. This girl didn’t seem to show any fear. She was willing to risk her head in order to say what she thought. Steve was reminded of himself, of how he would go up against the bullies knowing to well of what harm they’d do to him, trying to protect someone else. But he couldn’t help but to notice that she wasn’t fiery or passionate. She was logical. She pointed out the flaws. He looked over at Teresa, noting that she looked….well….she didn’t look too surprised. She was just waiting, silent and watching the scene unfold.

“How good are you?” Steve wasn’t sure if he was in the right to ask, but he needed to. “The person that’s hurt…it’s deeper than you know.”

“I’m told that I have a very sunny personality.” Nyah said after a moment. “I’m also told that this person, whoever it is, has a very rainy soul. I’ll take my chances.”

"We should all just take a deep breath," Meara stepped closer from his position, "We will take what we can get. Honestly, we have no other option, Nyah. If you can't help then I really do not know what else there is," he admitted.

“If I can’t help then the fault is on no one.” Nyah said gently, soothingly. “If I can, well…that’s all the reason to be better.” She turned to the King. “By your leave, I want to be able to prove myself. I want to be able to show that we, the Atrum, take health seriously as we do death. Please allow me, my liege, to be able to help your person in trouble. And if I fail, then by all means, destroy the treaty, for you will have no use for us, and us for you.”

"The treaty is older than any of us, so I will trust the ancestors who created it," T'Challa grumbled, "Steve, Meara, Kerica, we will go to the infirmary. The rest of you may do as you please. I do not wish to overwhelm him," with that, he stepped from the throne platform and led the way.

Meara paused by Teresa while everyone else dispersed, and he smiled at her reassuringly, "I am sure we can find a way to work together, Dr. Rivera. As Nyah said, you know her ways as well as you know our own."

Teresa could only sigh and smile at Meara. “I think we will be able to. I think the Elder foresaw this coming. It’s been a long time since I’ve been with people like myself though. So if I think something is a part of our custom and it turns out it’s not, don’t mind me.” She laughed lightly and shook her head. “Nyah really is good at what she does. She saved a lot of people…I suppose one more can’t hurt.” She looked away and towards the door that Nyah had followed them to the infirmary. “Oh shoot. I forgot to ask Kerica how she was doing, the poor thing.”

"Kerica is my daughter, she will be fine. She hasn't had an asthma attack since she was fifteen," Meara assured, and he led her after the rest of the people. He was sure the King would want him there to help wake him up, "His name is Bucky, by the way. Steve's best friend. He asked me every day if there was anything new since I got here a week ago. Any change at all I am sure he will be grateful for."

“I am hoping no one’s expecting a twenty four hour miracle.” Teresa said as she followed him, but then stopped at the door. Like the King said, he didn’t want him to be overwhelmed. “Bucky. I’m presuming it’s James Buchanan Barnes. It’s been all over the place. Even the Atrum heard of him, knew of him.” Teresa sighed softly. “But again, healing takes time and energy. Twenty four hours may not be even enough to get him to where we want.”

"May be longer, depends on how he handles coming out. He does have PTSD on top of it all, so he might be tripped into a bad memory. I believe that's another reason why T'Challa didn't want a lot of people around." Glancing inside, he did see Kerica was sitting on a bed several feet away, out of arms-length should anything go awry. T'Challa and Steve were on either side of the tube, waiting for him to get in there, and Nyah was directly facing it, unmoving. "You are welcome to sit on a chair," he motioned to one close to the door, "So you can still watch but be far enough away."

"If you insist." Teresa smiled as she took the chair, watching him leave towards the tube. She felt her heart thud hard and she looked at Nyah. Nyah was staring at the tube, but the smallest details in her body language told Teresa that she wasn't staring at him for professional reasons. Teresa really, really hoped that good looks weren't going to be cause of a damn downfall.

After several long minutes, going off of the notes and such so he could pop the lid on Bucky's cryo chamber, Meara was ready and he nodded at T'Challa. Steve had to forcefully move Nyah who'd been standing like a statue the whole time, that way she didn't get smacked with the glass when it unsealed. Several buttons and switches later, there was a hissing sound and he had to suppress a shiver as the cold air hit him in a gust. Slowly he and the King started to lift the lid.

Bucky's reaction to coming unfrozen was neither slow nor good.

Gasping harshly, ocean blue eyes snapped open and his one hand shot out, swiping at the glass and his legs jerked, but he didn't kick. He ducked under the glass when it was high enough and stumbled out and his hand gripped at the metal stump where his other arm should be.

"Bucky..." Steve quickly got to his friend's side. "Hey. Hey....it's alright. It's alright..." But Bucky couldn't hear him, or maybe he could but didn't understand. The wild look in his friend's eyes scared him more than Kerica's asthma attack.

Bucky gripped at his shoulder with almost bruising force, his breath coming in short bursts, hyperventilating. The cliff was so high...the train was leaving him behind with Steve on it, "Steve...Steve don't go..." he winced as if something hit his face, and he glanced up and over where his arm would be if it was above him.

"What's wrong? Bucky, what is it? What do you see?" Steve asked, careful not to touch, careful not to do anything that would trigger him further. He feared that his words were enough.

"I fell!" Bucky snapped, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, but then he lowered his voice, "I fell....caught a ledge...it ripped my arm open, all along it...I can't feel my arm!" gripping his shoulder tighter and shaking. The snow and ice on the rocks made it slippery and it bit into his skin, "Don't know how I'm holding on. Is this what a death grip is? I don't want to die! I could climb up but I can't feel anything, it's so cold, my fingers are frozen...My fingers...they're slipping..." he almost gouges Steve through his shirt, ripping it as he claws for purchase, tears starting to fall down his cheeks.

"Hey, come back." Steve said softly, but was vaguely surprised when Nyah knelt down. When did she leave and when did she come back with a blanket in her lap, he didn't know. She was watching Bucky, intently. "You're not in 1945, Bucky. It's 2016. I swear. You're safe. You're okay."

"NO! I'm falling again...Steve...ah..." he grunts and slumps finally, his dead weight dragging Steve down to the ground. His breathing suddenly slows, like he's unconscious, but his eyes are still open, staring into nothing, "So cold...the snow is so cold...I can't feel anything...so bright...but it's fading..." his voice was barely a whisper now.

"Shhh." Nyah whispered as she softly, gently covered him with the blanket. The cloth barely made a whisper as she shook it and wrapped it around his shoulders, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and holding him close. "You're not falling any longer Kliech. I got you. You're warm now and it's not so bright. Not too bright." (Made up word for love.) Teresa knew that was her cue to at least dim the lights somewhat since she was near the switch. "See? Open your eyes for me. Look around. I'm holding your shoulders, please don't hit me. I can't block quickly since I'm holding you tight. Tight so you don't fall."

Breathing steadying, and head spinning, Bucky felt dizzy when he opened his eyes again, closing them tight a second before rapidly blinking them, trying to find something to focus on so the room would stop spinning. His eyes landed on Steve who had tears in those pretty sky blue eyes, and as he blinked again he felt the wetness slip down his own cheek, "Steve?" he croaked, "What happened?" His back was secured against something soft, not nearly as solid as if it had been a man. A woman held him? He felt cozy warm...glancing down he noticed the wires through the blanket. So it was thermal. Looking back at Steve his brows furrowed further when he saw Steve's ripped shirt, "What did I do? What did I say?"

Breath hitching, the memory hit Bucky like a sledgehammer and he closed his eyes, swallowing the lump in his throat. He slowly hugged Steve back, "The fall itself almost killed me, but I'm a hardy fucker..." his attempt to lighten the mood was dry, and he just nuzzled Steve's shoulder, whispering so it'd only be picked up by Steve's enhanced hearing, "All I wanted was for you to come back for me once you took care of the train." He hated telling Steve these things, hated making him feel like shit all over again, but deep down he knew Steve was grateful for the information, and the knowledge he even remembered.

"I'm sorry. I should have jumped in after you." Steve whispered as he continued to hold him tight. "I would've come back, but I thought you were dead. I'm so sorry."

"Don't waist your breath on shoulda-coulda-woulda," Buck thumped his back and pushed him away a bit, looking at him firmly, "I'm just telling you my thoughts back then. We can't turn back time. As it is..." He finally scooted and shifted, turning to look at who was behind him, startling at the sight of deep blue garb and milk chocolate eyes. They were so warm, like the summer sun shining on rich soil. "Who are you?" he glanced back at his friend, then around the room, "I was woken up for a reason. You found help for me?"

"My name is Nyah." Instead of placing her hands at her forehead, she had brought them to her heart and gave it to him. For some reason, that resonated strongly within Steve. He knew, for whatever reason, she was giving Bucky something intimate. "You don't have to tell me yours. You must forgive me, I have to make you suffer a bit longer. One I wasn't expecting you to be in Cryo and Two, who the fuck decided that was a good idea?! No. No. I don't want to know and you don't deserve my temper. Give me twenty four hours. That should calm the both of us down."

Teresa pinched the bridge of her nose. Of course, she too wasn't happy at the development of what was going on with Bucky. Even if she was well versed in physical health, she was /well/ aware of the effects Cryo would have on someone so damaged. Especially with damage like that.

"She's a soul-healer." Steve said after a moment when Bucky didn't respond to Nyah. "I don't know much about her or her tribe, but...they're the best of what they can do. Whatever it is. You know I wouldn't put you in harm."

"It was my choice," Buck told her anyway after a second, "I'm dangerous and I know it, even if it meant becoming a popsicle." He heard an intake of breath and his head snapped over where he heard the sound, but couldn't see from his position on the floor, so he used Steve for support and got to his feet, spotting...a really cute brunette. Her chestnut hair was up, the tips coming to her neck, and he was sure it would go to her mid-back if it was down. The left side bangs framed her face gently, and her eyes were a pale green. Hmm...Jade, if he remembered his stones right. "Now who are you? You have a lot of new people here, Steve."

"I'm Kerica...Kerica Knight. My father's the doctor who suggested a Soul Healer," she nodded to the man behind them, watching everything calmly, a clip-bored in hand.

"Meara Knight, at your service," Meara inclined his head.

"Your eyes are weird," Bucky said promptly to Meara.

That caused the doctor to laugh, "That's not uncommon. Most people are used to blue and green for heterochromia eyes, but I got blue and silver."

Nyah had no words. Nothing to say. She watched the interactions and decided to take her leave. She had a kitchen to find and see if the servants would be kind enough to make a big dinner, good drinks, and fun company. She stepped away from the circle and made her way to the door, shutting it quietly behind her, knowing that her presence probably not missed. Meanwhile, Teresa was stunned. She didn't even notice the eyes. She wanted to slam her head backwards. She was always terrible at that, noticing things about people. Now, if it was an injury or something life threatening or dangerous, she was right on top of it with all the knowledge. Perhaps that's why she sucked at flirting so much. Her mind was all of textbooks and methods. Not...sexually actively looking for hot men. Though now that Bucky mentioned it, /fuck/ if she didn't look properly next time.

Bucky did notice, though, when Nyah left, and frowned in the direction of the door. "That's a new person there, too. What's your name?"

"Teresa Rivera," Meara answered, "She's had to introduce herself a lot today. She's a doctor like I am, but T'Challa didn't want you overwhelmed so she stayed out of the way."

"Since you spoke about your arm," T'Challa finally spoke up, having been watching everything with an intent critical eye, he stepped forward, "I had another made for you in the time you've been asleep, based on Steve's measurements, all thanks to his photographic memory. While you allow Meara to check your vitals and everything else important to you /physical/ health, I will retrieve it. Yes, it is made of vibranium."

Shocked, Bucky stared at the man in awe. A new arm...he gave the King a deep bow, "I appreciate your consideration. Thank you...very much." He watched the dark skinned man head off as well.

Teresa stood up and carefully approached Bucky, standing before him but careful so that she didn't make him think her an enemy or if she moved to fast. "If you need to know anything at all about what's going on. I can give you some pointers and answer at least some questions for you." She offered gently. "If you have any. Other than that, once you get your arm, I suggest a warm bath, a good book, and tea. I know a very good berry blend."

"Maybe not a bath, but I'll take a shower once Dr. Knight checks me out," Bucky nodded, "Tea...it has been a while since I had tea. Always coffee." Shaking his head, he took a breath, "One thing at a time...for now I just want to be caught up on anything that happened the last...wait, Steve, how long /was/ I out?"

"Five months." Steve said gently. "Just give five months."

"Well, I'll leave that to your friends." Teresa smiled warmly. "I'll go find Nyah...and hopefully keep her away from the King a bit longer." She bowed her head at Bucky before taking her leave, patting Maera's arm as she walked away and shutting the door behind her.

Bucky let out a low whistle, "Five...I thought I would be out longer, really." He walked over to a bed and sat on it, then glanced back at Kerica, "You're not going to run off like everybody else?"

"No..." Kerica bit her lip and slowly slid off the bed. Buck blinked at how /short/ she was. She walked over to him, but it wasn't slow, like he was a bomb about to go off. She held her hand out to him, "It's nice to finally meet you."

"I like you, you're not treating me like I'm going to bite your head off, though you probably should," Buck arched a brow and a smirk formed on his lips before he took her hand and shook it firmly, enjoying how she returned the grip fully.

"You're Steve's best friend. Why should I be afraid of you?" Kerica asked.

"I could list you a bunch of reasons," Buck drawled, "Would you call me a dumbass for doing so?"

Shock hit her face for a split second before it was gone, replaced by a deadpan one, "I would."

"You're just like Steve, thinking the world of me when you don't understand," Bucky frowned at her. What was that surprise for? She was staring at him like she couldn't believe her ears, "You just met me, anyway. Who are you to call me a dumbass?"

"I feel like I've known you a lot longer..." Kerica muttered so quietly, he almost didn't pick it up, "Steve, at least, thinks the world of you because you grew up together. He knows you better than you know yourself, I think."

"Sometimes I wonder." Steve said fondly as he gently clap Bucky's shoulder. "There's a lot of people who want to say hello and say they miss you, or at the very least are happy that you're unfrozen now."

"In a little bit? And not here," Bucky pleaded softly, "That open space with the balcony above it? That could work for a roundup. The couch was comfortable."

"Yeah." Steve said with a laugh. "I wasn't about to drag people in here, Buck. That lounge area is nice to hang out in."

Kerica eyeballed the two of them carefully, before it dawned on her, and she bit her lip, a bit disappointed, before she stepped back, "I, uh, I guess I'm going to run off like the others after all. Get out of my dad's way," she smiled lopsidedly before waving softly and turning around.

Bucky was really confused, before he felt a nudge to his arm and Meara had the blood pressure wrap in his hand. Holding it out further so he could wind it around, he frowned at Steve, "She's the strangest one out all the new people. Everyone else I /get/, you know? Body language, voice tones, all that...but she's all over the place. I think I can read her but then I can't."

"You and me both." Steve admitted. "There are times where I think I know what she's thinking and feeling, and times where I don't." Inside his pocket, he knew that the answer to that dilemma probably laid in it. But he didn't dare. He wouldn't dare. "How did you find the other two women?" He asked curiously. "You got a good read on them?"

"Teresa was nice...motherly. Good vibes, safe person," Buck nodded thoughtfully, "A bit out of touch, like she feels like she doesn't really fit in. Nyah..." her name felt strange on his tongue, but not unpleasant, "Her eyes...they were calming to me. Warm and welcoming. Of course, her concern was evident, but all she cared for was my well-being. She was so upset about me being in cryo, like...to an extreme. That threw me off."

"I noticed that..." Steve paused, that was a good question to ask her. Perhaps she had heard about Bucky's torture, and believed it to be triggering. Perhaps she had lost someone to Cryo, it was just a wonder. "Did the way she introduce herself seem or feel weird to you at all?"

"No, not really. Her state of dress looked familiar, too. Teresa's as well. I'm trying to rack my brain on how. I feel as though I might have passed a tribe similar to hers on a mission to do something else." Bucky admitted, "I...do wish she hadn't been wearing that mask, though. I wasn't threatened by it, but I really wanted to see her whole face."

Steve nodded. "Perhaps tonight you'll get lucky and you'll get to see it." He gently nudged his friend. "Looks like T'Challa's coming back with the arm. Once that's done, do you want to find a room to rest in or something?"

"Yes, please. That shower sounds more pleasing by the minute," Bucky had long since removed the blanket from his shoulders, though it was still draped on his lap, "If you get that tea from Teresa...I wouldn't mind trying it. Then I can see the others."

Now that Meara was done taking his blood pressure, he reached for Steve's hand and didn't say anything, just squeezed it tight and looked at him with a grateful smile. He knew Steve had done his best for him, and he would do the same and cooperate with Nyah the best he could. Soul Healing, though...that was a tricky thing and he all he was thinking about was how he couldn't wreck Steve's hopes like that.

()

"Good to see you back in tip-top shape and that your hair doesn't look like your smeared grease all over it!" Sam grinned at Bucky as he sat nearby. The couch was a huge half-circle with a coffee table in the center and two smaller two-seat couches across from it. Clint and Wanda were on one couch, Scott on another. The rest were piled on the big one.

“It was a saddened look.” Wanda agreed. “You look better with your hair pulled back too. Have you thought of braiding it?”

“No! No!” Scott immediately looked at Wanda. “No braids in the hair. Oh my god. That’ll make him look like…like…awful. You can’t braid that short of hair anyway!”

“Ruin the fun.” Wanda rolled her eyes teasingly.

"Braids huh?" Steve mused.

"I don't believe my hair is that long," Bucky shook his head, "If it was to my shoulders, maybe? For now I'll just keep it in a ponytail," he smiled at Wanda, then looked at Sam, "I had taken a dunk in a river and it wasn't like we had time to stop while Steve hijacked a VW Bug so I could take a shower."

"I still wonder about that, Steve. You had to pick the smallest car for three burly dudes to ride in," Sam arched a brow at their captain.

"He wouldn't put the seat forward for me!" Bucky pointed at Sam.

"Then I wouldn't have had any room!" Sam countered.

"It was discreet!" Steve defended. "It was the best way to get away without being noticed."
"Well if you were going to go that route, a clown car wouldn't have been too far off the mark." Scott pointed out. "Two super soldiers and a human man getting out of that tiny pregnant roller-skate was definitely like clowns getting out of a tiny tiny clown car."

"Discreet." Steve stressed.

"Wish I could've heard what was going on in the car, might've been more interesting than watching Steve smackin' on another chick..." Clint 'oomphed' as a pillow hit him full-force, almost knocking him over the couch. He noticed Kerica's laughter had died out with a choked sound, "Oh, oops..."

"Way to go, you ass!" Sam threw another pillow at him, Buck had been the first, Steve too stunned and pale-faced to take action.

"Why is everyone tossing pillows over a kiss?" Scott let out a sharp yip when the voice came up behind him. He looked up and saw a girl clad in blue, her eyebrows, from what he could see, were raised up in confusion. "Should I be concerned over what your version of a kiss is?" She was leaning against the back of his chair, arms draped like she was there for a long time.

"To be honest I really don't know," Buck admitted, "I just threw the pillow because Steve looks really mortified and I wanted to make Clint stop talking. Sam?" he fumbled.

"Steve and Kerica are /dating/, that's why, Buck," Sam clarified.

"They are? He didn't mention that," Bucky blinked.

"We haven't been on a date since before he came to Wakanda the first time," Kerica had placed the pillow in her lap, her face red from when she had been laughing, but she just shrugged now, "I really don't know what you lot consider dating or being together, but really. Calm down." He kissed a chick on their run and yet he hadn't kissed her. Awesome.

Sam looked at Buck and waved his hand, "She frustrates me."

Nyah on the other hand was just watching this group incredulously. She was supposed to be fixing one person. Was she going to have to extend that to /all/ of them? She looked up at the sky, like he was waiting for something to strike her down and looked back at the group, her eyes immediately catching Bucky's again....and fuck if she didn't melt and tried to keep her cool. "Sounds like a kiss is more important in your culture than mine."

"Only the people who are holding it in contempt." Scott pointed out. "Some of us are free with our kisses, if you want to have a go?"

"Not with you." Nyah snickered. "Considering that you'd only do it to prove a point."

"Steve? Not going to defend yourself here?" Buck asked curiously.

"I'm not sure what the hell I'm supposed to be defending." Steve protested. "I told you guys that the kiss was just a mixture of things. She's the one that made it deeper."

"Don't worry, Steve. I'm on your side." Nyah assured. "You and I know the way of kissing than these other folks."

"I don't think that's assuring in any way." Steve replied looking at Nyah incredulously.

"I like you." Nyah beamed. "You don't think all that much unless it's a fight."

Scott burst into laughter, nearly falling off the chair.

"Calling him a brute?" Sam asked in amusement, "Cuz that's what brutes do."

"Hey!" Steve glared at Sam, "You're supposed to be on my side!"

"Do you bite your thumb at me sir? Me sir? No sir. I don't bite my thumb at you sir." Nyah pushed herself away from the chair and walked over to the balcony, getting on the railing and letting her foot dangle on the edge. She was still close to hear the conversation if she wanted to, but far away to consider herself not apart of the group. Steve wondered, just vaguely, why she was out here to begin with.

Scott exhaled like he was just having the time of his life. "We have a good group."

"I agree we do," Kerica smiled at Scott, "It makes me happy that everyone's enjoying themselves again. It was just so dreary back home. Who needs normal when you can have quirky?"

Bucky got on his knees on the couch and hopped over it so he could go stand beside Nyah, "Why do you keep your mask on?" he asked curiously once he settled on the railing beside her.

Nyah turned, a little surprised that Bucky was talking to her. Her heart speeding as he leaned against the railing. She straightened her posture and tried to look serious. "Mostly out of habit. Out of respect. I won't have it on when I perform, or when I eat." She was seriously considering taking it off, just for him to see what she looked like. Maybe it would let him hear the song she was hearing her soul sing. Her heart couldn't keep still, skipping all over the place.

Scott nodded his agreement about the quirky. "I don't think normal was ever in our books. Not that I'm saying we have books dedicated to normal. When was the last time we read a book about /normal/? I sure as hell haven't."

"They are called non-fiction." Wanda replied simply. "Something you probably do not venture into."

"No that's also called not normal." Scott pointed out. "Who writes a biography about themselves if they haven't done something amazing?"

"That makes me excited for dinner tonight," Buck smiled slyly at her, "Or lunch, or any mealtime, really. Though, what do you mean by perform?"

"I bet everyone's biogrophy would be a fantastic read, your lives are extraordinary," Kerica beamed.

"Ours? What about yours? Being associated with us, watching all of our shenanigans first-hand. How is that /not/ exciting?" Clint asked.

"I'm not an official Avenger, guys. I've been well enough away from all the action, even though I want to fight. That's boring."

"Sometimes the more mundane, human side of us can be a lot more entertaining than the action, Kerica," Sam assured.

"I think everyone's getting tired of Captain America's famous exploits. I just found a fanfiction not too long ago about how I learned how to cook by using a bacon recipe book." Steve commented. "So I think your book would be the prime research for these poor writers."

Scott just cracked up. 'What it wasn't boiled cabbage?"

"I think they got tired of me being poor too. I'm only moderately poor to extremely sickly in the modern day fanfictions." Steve was pretty sure that's how they wrote him.

"I'm surprised you read them." Wanda mused.

"I want to read that cooking one, sounds like it would be a riot," Clint snickered.

“I’m an artist. A performer. I’m a singer a poetess, a lot of things.” Nyah smiled as she answered Bucky. “I think there’s a poem that you’d like to hear. No, I think it’s a little more than poem. Perhaps it’s more of a monologue. Yeah. I think it’s something you and your friends need to hear. It’s a bit depressing, but I promise to give you hope by the end of it. Your poor heart always take the beatings that no one can take.”

"That sounded eerie, but I if it means seeing you without your mask, I would love to listen and watch you perform," Bucky promised, "I bet you sound just /stunning/ when you sing, too."

"What other fanfictions have your stumbled across, Steve?" Sam asked curiously, "I haven't heard any of this."

"Sounds like you have just found the harmless ones, but the internet is a lot more naughty than that," Kerica hummed absently.

"/Oh/?" Clint asked Kerica who just pursed her lips and looked away.

"I think there was a story of graphic pictures showing how Bucky and I would be like in an intimate relationship. I think there was another of me and Tony too." Steve replied casually, not at all surprised that Kerica would know about it. They were fucking everywhere.

"I need to read these. Give me the list!" Scott proclaimed.

"I can give you a site and you could find them yourself," Kerica didn't bat an eye.

"What about me and you and sexy things?" Bucky glanced over his shoulder.

"Nothing Buck." Steve called back. "Nyah doesn't need to know about this."

"Of course, I already know what he's taking about." Nyah just merely smiled warmly and continued the conversation between the two of them. "Though before you return to your friend, just know that for you, at your request my voice is yours." Nyah promised him. "And should you enjoy the performance given, I may even say that your request for my mask to disappear is also freely given."

"I'll keep that in mind," Buck smiled at her with a small bow and walked back over to Steve, ruffling his hair and chuckling as he got his hand smacked away, "You've been interesting places on the internet."

“Internet’s become a new library.” Steve sighed. “And has dark sides I’ll never talk about.”

"True that," Sam and Kerica chorused.

"Fourth." Scott shuddered.

"I agree..." Wanda shook her head. "Images will not get out of your mind."

"I try to avoid clicking things that'll take me there, but it's interesting to know we all agree on something," Clint rolled his eyes.

~*~

"Your eyes have been glued to your phone for hours, Scott. Maybe I /shoudn't/ have given you that site," Kerica giggled as she fidgeted in her seat. A few hadn't shown up yet, like Steve, Bucky and Nyah but the rest like Clint, Wanda, her father and Teresa and Scott were. She was in a simple but pretty outfit, with a butterfly-arm flowing red shirt and a black ankle-length skirt because it was the first night Buck was there. Not to mention Nyah and Teresa were special new guests and possible future friends. While Nyah hadn't interjected herself much during the get-together at the lounge, Kerica hoped they would get to know her here. In spite of her reasoning...she always felt nervous when she was dressed up in anything other than jeans and a comfortable t-shirt.

"Shhhh. Bucky's just about to get pounded into the bed by a really angry Steve." Scott hissed waving at Kerica, but accidentally hitting the person who was beside him.

"Don't spoil it for me!" Clint smacked Scott back, "I just started reading this one!"

"Aren't you both straight anyway?" Sam was horrified at the comments they were making about their fanfiction escapades.

"I'm as straight as my arrows are true, but man, I'm reading these less for the sex and more for Bucky's sassy attitude and Steve blushing in them is just as funny as him blushing in real life because I /can picture it/!" Clint said.

"Just what are you two shouting about with Steve blushing and amens?" Bucky asked as he and Steve strolled in, "I only caught the end of that."

"You don't need to know anything," Kerica sighed deeply as Scott and Clint shoved their phones in their pockets like their lives depended on it.

"It's all your fault, so don't sigh," Sam accused, then looked at Steve, "What took you so long?"

"You don't need to know," Bucky echoed. He had been found by Steve ten minutes ago pacing around in a circle, wearing a path in the carpet with his anxiety. He had been around the lot of them earlier so he was feeling a bit overwhelmed by the thought of being around them all over again and this time in a smaller space. Yes the dining room was decent, but it wasn't nearly as open and it was dimmer as well. Steve had helped calm him down.

Wanda merely clicked her tongue in symapthy, Teresa on the other hand just sighed. "Well, now we're just waiting on Nyah so you're not too late I promise."

Buck elbowed Steve who'd been staring at Kerica and voiceless. Kerica was a vision in red, the shirt simple but lovely, "Are you going to sit down so I know where to sit?" He really didn't want to sit anywhere but next to Steve, but he could sit on the other side of Kerica easily.

Steve nodded dumbly as he sat down next to Kerica, giving Bucky the option of sitting down next to Kerica's side. "You look stunning." He told Kerica sincerely.

"It's...I'm...It's nothing much. I didn't have time to grab a whole lot of things, but you know...T'Challa being King and all, I had to grab /something/ nice," Kerica rambled, "I just ended up being too tired the first night to care, really, and then discovered he doesn't usually have dinner with you guys here."

Bucky thought it was adorable and settled beside her, "So why wear it now?"

Kerica glanced up and spotted Nyah standing in the doorway, and nodded to her, "That's why. She's special."

Everyone glanced over at Nyah. And she was gorgeous. She wore gorgeous purples with pink highlights in the dress. Her sleeves long and loose and the V neck showing more than just a hint of cleavage. Her hair was down and wavy, framing her face and looking like a dress up doll. When she sat down, the clothes around her spread out and she was smiling. Her lips were full, Steve noticed. Full and sincere. He glanced over at Bucky was a little surprised to see his expression.

Exotic. That is what came to mind when Bucky saw her. Her skin was like a milk latte, and her honey blond hair was a stark contrast, but in such a beautiful way. Her eyes looked all that much warmer with the strands framing her face, making the chocolate color pop like caramel, "Where do you keep all that hair?" he asked, noting his voice was breathless. He went to reach for her hair, but realized she was on the side of his metal hand, and he didn't want to accidentally tug and pull it. He couldn't feel how soft it was with that hand, anyway.

"Depends on what I'm feeling." Nyah was a little disappointed he didn't reach out to touch her, though she supposed it was probably for the best. The metal arm probably wouldn't give him any sense of pleasure. "Mostly tiny braids and a ponytail keeps it up. Or a bun."

Nyah smiled shyly and nodded her head. "It take a while to undo." She ran her fingers cautiously through her hair, feeling it and tugging at the strands as her heart was doing summer-salts in her chest and it tortured her that he couldn't feel this. Couldn't see this. "I like that your hair's pulled back some." She said gently. "I can see your face."

"I had wanted it down, but Steve here convinced me I should put it up again. I wonder about cutting it, but I like it long," Buck shrugged, "Are you...feeling any better about what happened this morning?"

Nyah sighed softly as she looked away, her smile still there but her eyes clouded. "I can't change the past no matter how much I want to. No matter how much I long to. I'm still angry I'm overlooked. But I'm not upset about the Cryo Chamber. It was your choice in the end. I suppose I'm evil for saying this, but I'm glad I was able to offer you some comfort."

Steve could /not/ believe what he was hearing and nudged Kerica softly and whispered in her ear. "I can't tell if Bucky's being oblivious or if he's just not into her."

"I see something different," Kerica whispered back, "He is, but remember, he's hesitant because of everything that happened to him. He's probably not letting himself and overlooking her hints on purpose. He hears them, but he's trying not to think about them."

Steve nodded his agreement and decided to let it rest. He could only hope that Bucky would gain courage.

"I did notice you left," Buck assured Nyah, "It wasn't like I could follow you, though. I don't know how you thought about the blanket, but thank you. It brought me out of that stupor." He looked over as there was clinking and saw the servants bringing them their first meal, different dishes for different, varied tastes. He figured they had established likes and dislikes very well in the five months he'd been out. His was set in front of him and he was amused when the lids were lifted and he and Kerica had the exact same thing. Steak with mashed potatoes and gravy and vegetables on the side, "Medium rare?" he asked her.

"Yes!" Kerica beamed, "I like mine-"

"-still mooing," Bucky echoed with her.

"Okay that was creepy," Sam said, "Anyone else find that creepy how they like read each other's minds?"

"Not necessarily." Nyah smiled as she lifted hers. Hers was more of an assortment of vegetables, pile on rice along with a chicken pieces that had a honey glaze and some spices sprinkled on top. "They're soulmates."

Steve immediately choked on his water and coughed into his sleeve.

"Jesus don't kill people." Scott looked over worriedly at Steve.

"For the love of they don't know what that means." Teresa groaned on the /other/ side of the table. She was wearing a dress that was more similar to something found in America, the color was a gentle green.

"I think we've all heard of soulmates, and yet I have a big feeling it means something entirely different in your culture, Nyah," Meara frowned as he watched his daughter glance between Buck, Steve, and Nyah with wide eyes.

"They have the same song." Nyah replied easily as she took her fork and murmured something in her tongue before she started eating. "They sing a duet that's in perfect harmony. Some discord, but it's a song that no one can break through. Lucky for Bucky, he has two who can sing his songs. One of loneliness, and one of strength."

"I'm a soulmate?" Steve asked, looking at Nyah curiously.

"Why does that shock you?" Nyah frowned. "Why is this news? Surely you have your suspicions."
"So one person can have more than one soulmate?" Sam asked.

"Soulmates are objective. They function differently. You have a soulmate for healing, a soulmate for a fight. You could have a soulmate just to have a soulmate, or even a friend who knows you better than the back of your hand." Nyah replied. "My soulmate happens to be Teresa, for despite that she's my mother-figure, she has me all figured out and there's nothing I wouldn't do for her...since she saved me."

"That's...actually really fascinating, a topic I didn't expect, though I think there's going to be a lot of spiritual ones with you around," Clint admitted.

"Of course there's soulmates for love, yeah? Or do they perhaps have a different name in your culture?" Sam inquired.

"Soulmates is a way of saying it. But I prefer the term Kliesambinalah. The key of my heart and soul is the literal translation. It's...a beautiful song. Had I the words to sing it...I would." Nyah shook her head from side to side. "Alas just like back in the old English days where Sonnets were meant to be given privately, it's the same thing here."

"You really are a performer if you think in song and poem. I can only imagine what an actual performance would be like," Bucky was a bit awestruck.

"A long poem I wrote." Nyah laughed. "But you all were such an inspiration to me. I could not help but to write it it." She looked fondly at the table. "You all have such good songs to write. I hope I do you justice."

The rest of their dinner went fairly well, and once they had all dispersed, Bucky took this chance to follow Nyah back to her room, "You got everyone curious about soulmates and your upcoming song. I think you scared Steve at the soulmate comment, though. He does like Kerica it seems but he's never been very good at talking to women."

"And yet, neither are you." Nyah smiled teasingly at him. "Either that or you just haven't noticed. Or perhaps, not ready. I am coming on strong." She watched him, with interest. "I'll be performing in the Great Hall, if you wish to come. It's tradition to give at least something to the new King and since all I have are words...well...words are what I'll give him."

"I'm not as blind as you, Steve, and Kerica think I am...or deaf," Bucky grumbled, "I can put two and two together just as well. The name your called me in the infirmary and your name for love-bonded soulmates rang a bell. Just...keep in mind, just a few days ago I got accused for something I didn't do and once caught promptly got brainwashed into breaking out of the security holding. Then I ruined Steve's life, getting chased by Ironman and even T'Challa before I got my arm blown off and the King offered his hand in sanctuary. Then /today/ I had a bad wake-up reaction and I'm /sorry/ if I'm not jumping all over you." He grunted in frustration, "I'm being rushed and shoved into things I don't want to be rushed or shoved into."

"I did not ask you to jump all over me." Nyah said softly, gently. She watched him for a moment. "This is my fault. I come on too strong." She repeated. "I know better than to rush someone whose in the middle of trying to heal. I also know better than to hope for this. But I will not guilt you into loving me. Your soul does not sing for me anyway. No, not yet."

Bucky closed his eyes and he let her lead him to her room, sighing deeply before opening them again, "I did not mean to snap. I was trained to notice things, after all. Even if I want to ignore it. I hope I didn't upset you too badly. It's not a rejection...just a 'please slow down'. I haven't even dated since before the war. Any female encounter after was a trap."

"Relax." Nyah gently grabbed his hand into hers and gently touched his wrist, feeling his heart beat. "You're so quick to blame and feel guilty. You're so fast at it, it scares me. But I understand. Truly, I do. If you could see what I see, Bucky...you'd know that you had every right to feel upset and cornered. It's my /fault/." She stressed gently. "I am not angry. I am not upset. I am mad at myself because I know better. I'm afraid my culture is a little...too direct. Teresa has problems with it even though she's been there for fourteen years. You don't owe me anything. Nothing. But I do hold the hope, and I do wish you allow me to keep this, that one day your soul will sing for me...and when it does I will be there. I hope that, and again I wish to keep this, you will be happy. Whatever path you chose, whether it is me or the soulmates that make your heart sing, I hold you blameless. Okay?"

Her touch set his chest hammering, and he stared down at her. He was grateful for her words and her understanding. "I appreciate what you say. I know you speak the truth," he allowed himself what he had denied earlier, reaching his flesh hand to stroke through her bangs, tucking the hair behind her ear. It was so soft, like Egyptian cotton. She took really good care of it, he could tell, "I'd love to see it in the braided style, for your song tomorrow? I am sure it takes a long time so you don't have to, but I think it would be lovely."

"For you." Nyah murmured gently, smiling warmly. "Anything you request of me, consider it yours." She let his wrist go gently and tilted her head towards his hand, allowing him to feel. "I take pride in my hair, and it may take me a while, but what woman doesn't spend forever and a day in the bathroom? Hmm?"

"Touche," Bucky laughed softly and nodded, his thumb stroking on her cheek before he let her go, "I am going to go sleep in an actual bed now, if you don't mind."

~*~

Yet Bucky didn't go to sleep in an actual bed. After switching into something a lot more comfortable and breathable, like a red tank top and a pair of dark blue sweats, he had actually been standing in front of Steve's door for about twenty minutes, listening to the sounds he made inside. Why couldn't he knock on the door? Steve probably knew he was there by now, he was certainly observant. He was probably waiting for Buck to knock, so he didn't assume. It had been such a long day, and they had been together through most of it. It just...he sighed deeply, and raised his hand to rap on the wood.

"Come in." Steve called as he listened to the door opened. He glanced over from the book that he was reading on the bed, hoping it would get him to go to sleep soon. "Hey Buck. Couldn't sleep?"

"Haven't bothered trying," Buck told him honestly and closed it, even flicking the lock and watched Steve's brows furrow in confusion. He muttered, "I'm tired of being alone, and my room is cold and lonely."

"You want to bunk with me?" Steve asked, knowing that this was supposed to feel weird but was jumping at the opportunity anyway. "We used to do that back when we were kids and the bed's big enough for two."

"Only if you don't mind me bombing you with questions," Buck hummed as he sauntered over to the bed, placing his hands on the foot of it, trying to decide which side of Steve he wanted to be on.

"You can ask me anything," Steve replied eagerly, like it was something he was waiting for. "Bucky, we can talk all night and sleep in tomorrow morning if that's how long it takes."

"Not all of it is about me, but we can get there," Bucky found it amusing at how Steve all but jammed his bookmark in and threw it on the nightstand. Deciding on his left side, so he could listen to his heart, as sappy as that was, he climbed into the bed and under the covers, "First question - Can you be my personal heater?" he went for lighthearted first with a grin.

"The cold still bothering you?" Steve asked as he immediately flipped the covers so that Bucky could climb in. "Yeah, I can be. You used to be the one that used to run hot like a furnace. Glad I can switch it up."

"Ha, that one's a bit fuzzy but I can believe it. Smaller stature and all," Bucky assured, tugging Steve with a free hand to be beside him and put his head on his chest with a small thump, "Better. Best pillow ever."

Steve just laughed. “You would say that.” He said as he brought Bucky a little closer to him.

"Serious question now...why the /fuck/ didn't you say anything about Kerica and you? What is going on with that?" Buck looked up at him with an exagerated scowl, "I think I'd like to know if Steve, the guy who can't talk to girls, had a girlfriend."

"We're...kind of dating." Steve said after a moment. "I mean she hasn't said anything about wanting to be my girlfriend even though I asked her out a few times so I think she's trying to let me down gently."

"Girls are tricky creatures, that is a fact of life. Yet Kerica, to me, seems like the simplest of them all, in /spite/ of her complex mind," Buck frowned, "The way she reacted to your compliment was not the kind of reaction someone who doesn't like you that way would have. She /really/ likes you. There's a backstory here I don't know, though. What is it? How did you meet?"

"She worked at S.H.I.E.L.D before it collapsed and was a mentor/student to Natasha. She became an honorary member of the Avengers and we became coworkers. For a while she was...giddy always to see me but the longer we worked together, the more I noticed that she was starting to see me for who I am. Cue the brawl we had just recently and I haven't seen her in five months." Steve explained.

Turning this information in his head, Buck made a soft humming noise in his throat, "She was left behind. If she and Meara hadn't shown up I would still be asleep. She missed you, Steve. Why do you think girls cheat during wartime? Time apart can damage a relationship, especially...a budding one. You say a few dates, she said one. A coffee date, right?" He didn't quite know how he knew that. "I think you should clarify if you're going on a date or if it's casual, Steve. She doesn't know where you stand just as well as you don't know where she stands. She is quite similar to you. Easily to please, simple yet complex."

Steve just sighed and looked down at Bucky. "Are you sure you wanna go down this path, Buck? I could be asking you about the way Nyah looks at you. I never seen someone fall for someone so fast. She completely adores you and she doesn't really know you. At all."

"Something about her...she may not know me in the way you do, but she /sees/ me...Meara and T'Challa sent a Soul Healer for a reason. If she looked at my soul and fell in love with it, as broken and torn up as it is, then that says something...doesn't it?" Bucky pondered, "Her actions and words spoke to me on a different wavelength than yours or Kerica's. You speak for me because of our past, and I dismiss it because your Bucky feels different than the Bucky with you now. Kerica speaks for me because of you...and something she hinted at in the infirmary before. Yet Nyah, a complete stranger, speaks for me, and I wonder..." 'Am I really worth it?' But this time, the question was with hope instead of contempt.

Maybe this was the reason why he should give the flash drive. Steve rolled over to his bedside table and pulled out the small flash drive and handed it to Bucky. "She was talking to you. I don't know what she said, but...if you didn't hear her, then it's probably best you have the drive." Steve thought about what he said about Nyah. "You know how she mentioned Soulmates have a song? Did she by chance tell you if she had one for you? Or anything like that?"

"Not particularly in that way, but she said that she is willing to wait, because my soul does not sing for her, not yet, but she wants it to," Buck turned the flashdrive over in his hand, "Where did you get this?"

"T'Challa. He listened in." Steve made a face before softening. "She's quite a catch if she's willing to wait for you, Buck. Knowing that she might be waiting a long time. You know, something T'Challa said about having a physical doctor struck me odd."

"Why is that?" Buck stuffed it in a pocket of his sweats.

"He would have said in his letter of what doctors he had on staff, and what they knew. The Atrum wouldn't have sent out another physical doctor, that's redundant. Nyah either didn't know that or...she lied to T'Calla about Teresa's presence." Steve admitted after a moment. "Not that it's any of my business, I doubt Teresa's around to hurt someone. But it just struck me as...well...weird."

"Well it sounds to me like there's something about Teresa we don't know," Bucky shrugged, "She and Meara seemed to connect pretty well, though. He might be able to find out for us."

"Maybe, I can't help but to feel like it's something obvious. Something we're not seeing." Steve sighed. "Sorry. We're supposed to asking questions."

"That's alright," Buck smiled, "Going off-topic was bound to happen." He shifted off of Steve's chest and looked at him with his arm draped over his stomach, getting in the way of his reading. It was very similar to a cat forcing attention. "You're holding back." A statement, not a question. He knew Steve knew what he was talking about, "We've held back all our lives. Hidden feelings back in the thirties, secret touches and glances in the war. The hellicarrier and our fight over two years ago...then when you found me again. Stronger this time, almost needy, like you needed me to remember and it was tearing you up. The flight to the Hydra base was torture." He lowered his voice almost sinfully, "I do remember, Steve. That's a memory of the skin, and the heart, not the mind."

Steve felt his heart do all sorts of things as he turned to look at Bucky's face, shivering at the predatory look that his friend was giving him. "Nyah did say that we were intertwined." He mused. "And I guess we haven't given it our due, have we? We've been doing this all wrong."

"How would you suggest doing it, then, hmm? Any suggestions?" Bucky lowered his head onto his hand, looking up at Steve through dark lashes, his hair down like he had wanted it earlier and it framed his face tauntingly.

Steve knew that this was a bad idea. A terrible idea. However, his body leaned in, his hand cupping Bucky's cheek as he brought him up to his face and kissed him, a little surprised that the kiss went deep all of the sudden and his body felt aflame. Like all of the sudden he jumped into lava or at least a destructive fire.

Buck had attempted to straddle him, but Steve turned the tables on him, book flying off the bed, and he chuckled in amusement against eager lips before he was silenced all over again by a naughty tongue. Steve had kissed four girls that he was aware of, but was still a virgin. Unless he had a bedroom adventure amidst all the chaos since he woke up. He doubted it. Steve was too 'old school' to do anything before marriage or at least engagement.

Them? They might as well have been married, they certainly acted like an old married couple after all, bickering and fighting but ultimately always loving each other.

"You like the fact you can overpower me now, punk?" Buck growled once Steve broke their kiss to trail kisses along his jaw. Fuck, he was just such a romantic. Of course, he had no room to talk because he had literally been a sap himself not a moment before. Roaming hands made their way under his shirt, tracing all the way up his spine, feeling the grooves of the vertebrae. Then his fingers fanned and by memory of the muscle, he found all of Steve's pressure points and weak spots, working away stress knots.

Steve groaned deeply, melting into a puddle against Bucky, "That's...cheating...jerk..." He gasped, squirming as he loosened a particularly bad spot.

Managing to flip Steve back over, he delighted in the blissful expression, "Geeze, one might think we already did nasty things already by /that/ sultry look."

"Cheating," Steve defended, though it was halfhearted. He then arched and moaned as Bucky removed his shirt and attacked his chest. Hands finding purchase on his shoulders, all he could do was hold on.

Steve's pleasure noises had Bucky harder than he could /ever/ remember, and he was grateful for his loose sweats. Shirt flying as well, he let their bodies slip and slide as he moved in a sort of zig-zag from his collarbone to his nipples, teasing them into pebbles, then ghosted down to play with a spot right next to his bellybutton that drove him insane. Just because Steve was a virgin with girls...didn't mean he was a virgin with /him/. 

That made him briefly think about Kerica. Did Steve /want/ to be with her? Was he hoping she was trying to let him down? He should ask these questions, because this wasn't fair to her nor was it right to lead her on. That couldn't be Steve's style...but he really was such a nice guy that...would he really be with her if it made her happy, but not himself? On the flip side, he did like Nyah well enough, but she seemed to know his heart sang for Steve. The heart also had many songs. Could it really sing for both, on both accounts? Kerica was sweet so far, he liked her, too, and he didn't want her to hurt because of them.

Okay, that was more than briefly, but by now he had Steve naked under him and he was stroking his shaft with his tongue in such a lewd way it made Steve's eyes roll back. 

"You're wearing too many clothes," Steve rasped, body visibly shaking.

"Indeed I am," Bucky agreed, but didn't move to do anything about it, opening his mouth wide and sucking his cock right to the root, chin resting on his balls and nose in his pubic hair. Steve's choked, gasping intake of breath was a delight. Holding him there a second, he shifted onto his knees and used his metal hand to start shifting his sweats off his ass, moving his lips in a slow, saliva-slicked slide. Up, down, swirling his tongue at the head when he was up again, and flattened it on the underside as he went down.

"/Bucky/, shit...fuck...I don't remember you being able to do this..." Steve whined deeply, hips strained and shaking with the effort not to thrust his hips up. 

"Mmmm..." Bucky hummed, vibrating against his flesh, and he finally relinquished him with a sinful pop, "I read, too, you know. There's this one writer, Akamery, she's really good. Has several different couples written out, like Clint and Natalia or Wanda and Vision, even. Not to mention plenty of ones about you and I...I'm just trying out ideas is all."

"They're working...by God, they are /definitely/ working...but fuck, Buck, I just want /you/..." Steve gave him a pleading look.

Buck had only resisted that look twice. Once before the war, when Steve begged him not to leave him behind...and the second when he pleaded with him not to go into cryo. He couldn't now, and gave in, draping his now naked body over Steve's and let him roll them over. Lube was produced from somewhere, and Buck wondered whom his fap material was over. Peggy? Natasha? Kerica? Him? All of the above?

"You...okay with being bottom? You don't feel trapped, do you?" Steve asked even as he coated his fingers.

He considered it seriously, instead of immediately telling him it was fine. After a minute of watching Steve stroke himself leisurely while he waited for an answer, he gave a curt not, "I /trust/ you, Stevie. I'll be fine."

That seemed to strike a cord in Steve, and the tears were quickly blinked away. First one finger, teasing, coaxing, curling and pumping and before long there were three, pumping his prostate, and his pre-cum was dripping and smearing on his stomach, Steve's eyes dark and half-lidded, his breathing labored, "Damn it, Steve! Give it to me already..." Before they explode just from watching one another.

No time was wasted. The three fingers were replaced by a heavy, thick head and Buck groaned deep in his chest, his hips baring down, "Fuck me, /Captain/!"

Steve gave a rough thrust forward and gripped Bucky's hips so tight he left immediate bruises, "/I'm/ in command here..." He pulled out agonizingly slow, and then slammed back in, "/Sargent/."

They both groaned as he settled inside fully to the hilt, Bucks eyes rolled back, "Yes.../sir/, don't need to tell /me/ twice."

"Is that so?" He dropped off after that, not willing to play a dominance game, tell him he needed to be punished for being a little shithead. He didn't want to hear Bucky tell him he deserved it.

"Hey...Stevie...c'mere, you punk," Bucky reached for him, tugging him into a deep embrace and rolled his hips, "I need you to move for me, Stevie. Can you do that? Driving me up the wall, here."

"Ha...yeah...sorry," Steve rocked back out partially and then glided back inside, creating a steady, hot rhythm. "Fuck...shit, Buck, you feel great..." His pace started to pick up.

"Yeah...uhn...you are so thick, Steve..." His natural dick curve hit his prostate just right as well on every pass, "I can...feel you stuffing me full..."

"To think we grew up to be gentlemen," Steve muttered against his neck, arms shaking, fingers gripping the back of his bed to pull himself forward into Bucky, "You are so filthy."

"You can wash my mouth out with soap later, just..." He tugged Steve to kiss him hotly, his cock trapped and rubbing between their bodies. He whimpered and reached to stroke off when Steve beat him to it.

"Don't worry...I'll take care of you...I'll always...mmph..." It was Steve's turn to be silenced. Faster they !over together, teeth biting at lips, breath and tongue tangling, and they felt about to explode, "B-Buck...Bucky..."

His name being called so desperatelty is what undid him, two thick ropes of cum bursting across his torso, and he shouted, "Steve!" As the man above him became unrelenting, "Steve! Stevie, cum...cum for me..." He was too sensitive, he needed... And there it was, Steve gripped his hair and mashed their lips together, roaring muffled in his mouth as his hips stilled deeply flushed against his body. Bucky felt so /full/ and caught his Steve as he collapsed, "You weigh a ton."

"You can handle it..." Steve mumbled, already half unconscious.

"Yeah...I can..." Buck smiled and patted his back, reaching over and flicking the switch for Steve's bedside light.

They slept so soundly that night they almost missed Steve's alarm to get ready for his run, and by then they jumped out of bed and were so awake they beat Sam to the meeting point, refreshed and esthetic.
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