Avengers - Civil War AU - Kintsugi Golden Repair 2.0 - 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. Wanda could probably show you."

"Ha, I understand," Kerica nodded, "This would be a great time to give you your present."

"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 led 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. "Do you wish to be lead to T'Challa to get a room? I am eager to see the present you have. I could always show you where Steve is first, however."

"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."

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."

Kerica shrugged, "The jungle is huge. Once we broke through the clouds I couldn't see anything but!" she stared at him with wide eyes.

Steve shrugged, “It loses it’s charm after so long, but it's something.”

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 sniffed, "We need to have dinner together, all of us."

"Hey. Stop." Steve gently wrapped an arm around her. "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, "You're quite enthusiastic over me being Captain America's girlfriend, but really, Steve's just a regular guy under that tough guy act."

"She just totally outed you," Sam looked at Steve with amusement.

"I think that she mispronounced "stubborn"." Scott agreed as Steve gave him a playful glare. "Because tough-guy act is when someone's being a dick." He paused. "Steve only acts like that to certain people."

Steve rolled his eyes, but his hand sought of Kerica's now that Scott was done shaking it to death. "She's not wrong. I am a regular guy, but I disagree with you on my stubbornness. It's called determination."
"It's called you don't know the difference." Scott grinned.

"Now I agree with Scott," Kerica laughed, giggling at Steve's look of betrayal, and just squeezed his hand, her cheeks pink but she grinned at Scott, trying to play it cool, "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."

Scott only smiled widely, "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, "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 led her by the hand he held down the hallway, smiling and content.

~*~

"Tell me," Kerica started their conversation once they had food in their hands, sitting at the tables provided in the lunch room, "What do you wish you had but you don't from home?"

"Art supplies." Steve said after a moment of thought as he took a thoughtful drink of coffee and set it to the side. "The traffic. It's weird. New York was louder and I hated the noise. Now that I'm here, in the Jungle, it's all I want." He shook his head. "Buck would be laughing at me and telling me to make up my damn mind."

"Now see, that's where I'd rather live in the suburbs so I could have both," Kerica snickered, "You got the noise during the day, but at night you get some damn peace and quiet. Not to mention you're not too far from a nearby hospital." She watched his face as he thought about Buck, "Do you think I'll get along with him?"

"I think so." Steve looked at Kerica earnestly. "You both have the same wicked sense of humor. I'm certain you guys will get along. I think he'll be a little disappointed I got you first, but he'll be happy."

Words were on the tip of her tongue, but that would mean she'd have to explain her past to which she didn't want to, not right /now/ anyway. This was a fun moment and those weren't happy thoughts. Maybe later, she promised herself, when Bucky was awake. Kerica chomped on her sandwich and contemplated before saying, "I sure hope so, though I might smack him upside the head for making you worry."

"It was his choice." Steve admitted with a small smile as he took another bite of his lunch and another drink of his coffee. "He had too many choices be taken away from him. So, let him off just a little easy."

She didn't have a comment, so shrugged, and found a different topic, "What are your runs like in the mornings? That's a habit I can't see you /not/ doing, jungle be damned."

"T'Challa has a little running course for us that we can use so that we're not in to much trouble." Steve explained. "We have to run together, so I can't usually go at all my speed, but at least I can get moving. It's just too dangerous to leave each other behind."

"That sounds interesting. Why don't you go by yourself after Sam's had his fill? A double-run probably wouldn't phase you," Kerica tilted her head, "I seriously doubt any creature could keep up with you at top speed. You can outrun /cars/."

"I might." Steve smiled. "It would be fun to do it by myself especially now that we're a little used to how the course is set up." He paused. "But enough about me. What have you been doing since I last saw you? I know you were in hiding, but..." he gestured helplessly. "I can't imagine you just staying indoors."

"Natasha disappeared shortly after you guys did," Kerica shifted, "I kept up my training the best I could, but it's hard to practice dodging and getting away from your opponent when you have no opponent." She shrugged, sipping her pomegranate green tea, "Vision was the only one I'd keep in contact with. I have a firm belief he's more neutral in the whole damn thing but fights for Tony by default. He misses Wanda."

"She can probably take care of herself." Steve had to smile a little. It was nice, to know that Natasha was changing sides to her own. He hated the idea of fighting against her. Vision on the other hand, he nodded his head. "Wanda misses him too."

"She was happy with her present," Kerica smiled, "He made her a letter. Star-crossed loves, they are," she shook her head, "Besides keeping up my training, I guess the last several months were really boring. I read, my dad worked, the usual before I joined S.H.I.E.L.D. and I'd go for walks at night when no one was around."

"I'm glad you here." Steve smiled at her gently. "Maybe not things won't be so boring. Though I can't promise much."

"Do you guys get to leave this place at all?" Kerica asked curiously, "I can't imagine T'Challa would keep you holed up here, Wakanda is your sanctuary after all."

"We do. We're allowed to go into the cities whenever we want, though we have to keep our presence to a minimum. We can go out in huge groups every once in a while, but if it's two or three then we're normally okay." Steve explained. "Otherwise, I think all of us would be suffering cabin fever and Scott would be more of a troublemaker than he already is."

Kerica giggled, "I can see that." She smiled softly at him, "I'm glad I'm here, too. I'm really glad everyone's safe and sound. I agree, everything should be okay now, and my dad will figure out how to help Bucky so we can have him back."

()

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.”

'Because his family isn't complete.'

She could have been left back in America for years until some bigger, badder monster showed up, and she knew it. Yet T'Challa had told them that Steve had specifically asked for them to be retrieved. That made her happy beyond compare, though would still be a bit upset that until a day ago she thought she had been forgotten. She really should bring that up to him and beat him upside the head. "You know, your shithead of a friend could've found a way to send a letter or something," she muttered with a snort.

Pulling away, she patted the glass, “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 the more I go on,” Kerica sighed deeply and turned around, grabbed a few blankets off the medical tables around the infirmary, before 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.

~*~

The morning came, and Meara miraculously caught Steve before he and Sam went on their morning jog. Both were confused, but he simply smiled, "I'm sorry, Sam, but do you mind if I steal Steve for a little while?"

Sam looked at Steve, brows up, "Um...no? I'll just hang around here until you're done with him."

Steve followed Meara away from Sam, eyebrows furrowed in curiosity. "What's going on?"

"I walked into the infirmary this morning and I just can't bring myself to do something about what I saw," Meara was amused, but being very vague, "You know, at dinner last night I was very happy to see everyone's bright and smiling faces."

"Good! I'm very glad to be here, too!" Meara beamed at Steve, his two-tone eyes bright, the silver one on Steve's left watched him, "Though T'Challa told me you sent for us. So you should really thank yourself, because I'm sure if it was anyone but you he wouldn't really bat an eye. You're very influential, Steve."

Steve bowed his head, cheeks red. "You mentioned the infirmary. Were you able to figure out if you might be able to help Bucky?" He asked curiously. "Not that I'm trying t put pressure on you or anything."

"T'Challa and I chatted and I have an idea, but I'm going to do a little bit more research and the like before I make my decision. I haven't finished reading his files yet, I was really tired after the flight yesterday, I don't care for plane rides," Meara shook his head, "Here we are," he turned into the infirmary and placed his fingers to his lips for quiet and then motioned him inside.

Steve walked inside, quiet as a mouse wondering for a moment on what Meara was bringing him in for. It took only a second to notice that Kercia was lying next to Bucky's cryo-chamber. It was a cute little scene, he could see why Meara didn't want to disturb them.

"Could you carry her to her room for me?" Meara asked in a whisper, "She probably won't wake up until ten, when you guys are back, anyway. I really need to get to those files for you friend."

"Yeah sure." Steve walked over to Kerica and gently picked her up. She weighed practically nothing. "You shouldn't be sleeping on the floor like that." He murmured to her. "You're going to catch sick."

"Buksh deh one whosh an ass fer bein' a popsicle." she slurred sleepily, curling into his warm body, gripping his shirt since she wasn't in her blankets anymore and nuzzling his chest.

Meara found the happy noises she made really adorable, and he loved how she looked all that much smaller in Steve's arms. He gave Steve a smile, "Actually, I do have one question."

"You can give him a lecture when he wakes up." Steve promised, glancing over at the cryochamber. He looked...Steve didn't want to think about it. He just could only hope. "What is it?"

"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?" Meara asked.

"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 went over to his clipboard and looked at the notes. He glanced at Buck, then at the two of them, before waving his hand in a 'shoo' gesture, "Thank you, Steve."

"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, Steve. 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 whirling.

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.

~*~

"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.

()

"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 Melamin. I got you. You're warm now and it's not so bright. Not too bright." 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 smiling in understanding, "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, just a little disappointed, but she could wait. She waved a little 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 looked at Steve, "She's the strangest one out all the new people. She's acting like I said something really weird and like she's known me for years."

"I talk about you a lot." Steve scratched his cheek. "And she's...well-researched. So every story I told about you, probably makes her feel a little closer to you."

"Oh, you guys have no idea, do you?" Meara commented and then looked sheepish he said something when they glanced at him, "Ah...woops. I suppose, Steve, she hasn't explained things in detail because you haven't been together that long, and of course the hiding didn't help matters."

"Wait...been together? Steve is she your /girlfriend/?" Bucky gaped at Steve.

Steve rubbed the back of his neck. "I wasn't going to spring it up on you so suddenly-"

"YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND AND YOU DIDN'T SAY A WORD?!" Bucky looked highly upset, "What the actual fuck, Rogers?! That's /news/, that's...I should punch you. Why the hell did you kiss that blonde back there? I hope she kicked your ass, unless you didn't tell her about that?" he ranted.

"You know that was a thank you and I was going for the cheek." Steve protested, his cheeks burning a bright red. "What was I supposed to tell you? You were..." He made a vague gesture that didn't amuse Bucky in the slightest. "I don't know. Out of it? I was a bit preoccupied of keeping you safe and not getting killed."

"Clint went off and grabbed Antman but he didn't grab her?" Bucky stared at him, "Did you not want her fighting with us?"

"I would have had her by my side in an instant. She would've taken that Spiderman from Queens down in a moment." Steve frowned deeply. "It's just...when the fights broke out, they were hard on her. She couldn't chose a side, she saw both points. So, she decided not to be apart of it."

"Oh..." Bucky's arguments ran out and he ran his hand over his face, sighing deeply, "That makes sense, I guess...and let me guess, it was too dangerous to bring them here until now?"

"I'm still here, and yes it was. T'Challa deemed it was finally safe enough a week ago. He and I agreed on the Soul Healer and it's just taken time for her to get here, is all," Meara rolled his eyes and he wrote something else down on his clipboard, "Temperature and blood pressure are still whacked, but you just came out from cryo in the worst way possible so none of that is a surprise to me. Besides that, Steve, if you'd like to take your friend to his room for a shower, he can start socializing with everyone."

"A shower sounds like the best idea in the world," Buck groaned.

~*~

"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 questioned.

"Steve didn't mean to smooch her right on the kisser," Bucky helped defend Steve, "He even just told me he was going for the cheek."

"Is that so?" Kerica glanced at Steve, but she smiled just a tiny bit, "You look like a puppy who knows they did something wrong."

"I love that they toss me under the bus when they all /know/." Steve looked at Kerica, still with the puppy eyes. "it was supposed to be on the cheek. She's been helpful! She turned, I was about to pull away, she took it as an invitation I swear."

"I can't be mad at that face, Steve," Kerica covered her mouth as she snickered, "Just make it up to me later, because that's not fair, kissing someone else."

"I will." Steve said earnestly and Scott rolled his eyes on the sidelines.

"It's like a weapon." Wanda laughed. "I think the tabloids fall over themselves when he looks at the camera like that."

"I've only been successful in resisting it twice, to my knowledge," Bucky admitted, "Once before I was shipped out and the other when he asked me not to go under."

"You really are resilient, aren't you?" Clint gaped at him.

"Steve's pouty face when he gets denied is worse, so yes," Bucky nodded solemnly but laughed when Steve hit him.

"Like he's to talk." Steve grumbled. "You haven't been properly looked at with Bucky's smile yet. He flashes one smile and everyone is in love with him. I swear, it's how he got most of the girls on the block to go dancing with him. His pick up lines were terrible. So were his flirting skills."

"He has a very handsome look." Scott let out a surprised yelp and he looked over his shoulder to see that there was a blue-clad ninja looking person behind him. Her brown eyes crinkled in amusement, the only thing that showed that she was having fun. "I'm sure that his smile was only part of the charm. His eyes are expressive."

"Why thank you," Bucky fluttered his lashes at her.

"Are you sure you're not a girl?" Kerica asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You got the hair for it and that was definitely a girly thing you just did."

Bucky tossed his fingers through his hair, doing a little head shake, "My hair is glorious, thank you."

"What gives a girl, power and punch? Is it charm, is it poise? No, it's hairspray." Nyah sang as she pushed herself away from Scott's chair that she was leaning on and headed towards the railing. Scott cracked up, and Wanda was snickering herself since they both knew this musical. "What gets a gal asked out to lunch? Is it brains Is it dough? No, it's hairspray." And landed on the railing, ending the song there.

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.

"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’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."

Nyah just merely smiled warmly, "For you, at your request my voice is yours," she 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."

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."

"Non-fiction books are the worst," Kerica commented, "I was forced to read at least one back in school and I don't remember it worth a damn, but I could tell you about a dozen fantasy books I read at /least/."

"Fantasy was always easier to read." Wanda agreed. "Nonfiction is usually factual and plain."

"I betcha if any of us wrote an autobiography it would be anything but /plain/," Clint snorted, "I think I might do that once I, you know, actually get to be retired, just to say 'fuck you' one last time."

"Hawkeye the autobiography of "Fuck You"." Scott nodded appreciatively, "Foreword by Falcon, member of the bird-bros."

"Of course I wouldn't leave out Caw-Caw," Clint smirked at Sam.

"Motherfucker, I will /end/ you," Sam flipped him off.

"Might not get to that autobiography if Sam kills you first," Kerica laughed heartily.

"I can handle him," Clint waved a hand dismissively, grin wide.

"You wanna prove that?" Sam sneered.

"I don't need to prove anything, Caw-Caw-AH!" Clint shouted as Sam launched himself at him and they ended up tumbling over the couch arm onto the floor.

Kerica 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.

"Glad to see we're only /fashionably/ late," Bucky drawled as he and Steve came in.

Sam looked at Steve, "What took you so long?"

"You don't need to know," Bucky grunted before Steve could reply. 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 sympathy, 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."

Bucky smiled at her, "Do you do the braids often?"

Nyah smiled shyly and shook 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."

"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 Mela en' coiamin. Love of my life 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 confused Steve at the soulmate comment, though. He's with Kerica but you added me as a soulmate, too."

"You can have more than one." Nyah reminded gently. "Kerica is Steve's heart. Just as there's many types of loves, there's many types of soulmates. I would add myself to the list, but either you haven't noticed or it's just one sided."

"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.

"So how /did/ you and Kerica get together, anyway? SHIELD? Tell me more about her, I feel this very strong need to know how the guy who can't talk to women wooed one into being his best girl," he snickered when Steve jabbed him in the ribs, "Ow!" he rubbed it, even as he looked at Steve expectantly.

"I wooed Peggy." Steve pouted, but brought Bucky close to him as he thought about it. "She was in SHIELD and for the first year she was this...fangirl. Would practically melt every time I crossed her path and she would treat me like I was some sort of Hercules or god or whatever. But...when you came back. When I basically did a three-sixty and people were coming after me, Kerica was by my side. SHIELD disappeared, but Natasha took her under her wing. You probably don't remember Kerica...but she tried to attack you and all you did was step away, she lost momentum and ran into a car...and got hit with a car door. It wasn't her best of luck. She did try though. I think that's why Natasha liked her so much."

"Well if she has enough guts to try and attack the Soldier then yeah, that definitely earns her some respect," Bucky muttered, "Though, that might be another reason why she said what she did, but Meara's comment was weird. We really should ask her about it, or you can. She might tell you easier."

"She might, but why are you so hung up about my relationship with Kerica?" Steve decided to turn the tables because there was no way Bucky was just going to get away with it. "I saw you with Nyah on the railing, /and/ how you two went off together after dinner. Is there something that I don't know?"

"Aw, you saw through me," Bucky rolled his eyes but he fell back against his chest again, "Nyah more or less proclaimed her love to me and I told her to slow down. I just met the woman. Yes I was flirting with her, and I might feel drawn to her, but she admitted herself she was coming on strong. I'm not blind nor deaf, Steven," he glared up at the golden-blond haired man, "I heard you and Kerica."

"Buck." Steve immediately frowned. "We weren't trying to hurt you. I just...well..." He shrugged helplessly. "I didn't think." He admitted after a moment. "I thought that you two had something going on."

"I know...that was harsh, I'm sorry," Bucky shifted to put his ear over Steve's heart better, "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 took one look at my soul and fell in love with it, as broken and torn up as it is, then that says something...doesn't it?" he 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...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.

"She mentioned soulmates have the same song," Steve offered gently. "Did she say that she had the same song? Or anything like that? If she has  a song for you...then maybe you should give her a bit of a chance. Don't immediately jump in the sack, but...paint the town. Go for a date."

"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 hummed, "She called me Melamin in the infirmary..." he knew Steve recognized that as similar to what she'd said at dinner, "So...it may take some time, but there might be something later. I won't do the 'love at first sight' thing. I need to know her, even if she knows me."

"She'll wait." Steve smiled. "I think she'd even appreciate it if you went out with her a few times. I wonder what they think of courting....if that's a thing. That'd be fun to find out."

"Most certainly," Bucky agreed. 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 ideas?" 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 with women. 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.

"I just have one more question..." Buck breathed hotly against his mouth.

"One?" Steve asked, caressing his cheek and pressing a kiss to the corner of Bucky's mouth.

"What about your girlfriend? Can we stop at just tonight and go back to secret kisses?" Buck winced, "Okay, that was more than one."

Steve froze above him, but understood where he was coming from. He leaned against Bucky's forehead. "Yeah." He said after a moment. "We can do that Buck."

"If you're fine with this, then I am, too," Buck promised, and wound his fingers in his hair, kissing him hard and dove his tongue into his mouth to battle it out.

"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 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.

It didn't take too long before 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 may or may not have read some romantic novels...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. Kerica? Him?

"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 moved together, teeth biting at lips, breath and tongue tangling, and they felt about to explode, "B-Buck...Bucky..."

His name being called so desperately 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 ecstatic.

()

Kerica watched as Sam and Bucky ended up rolling in the dirt because of some choice words they threw at each other, and giggled to herself, Steve doubling over in laughter at the scene himself. It took about five minutes before they finally broke apart, Sam too tired from running six miles to really fight anymore, but Bucky and Steve looked ready to run another six more, a bounce in both of their steps.

Bucky greeted her first, waving his metal arm at her with a breathless laugh, "Hey there, Pixie. You're up early."

"It's ten, Steve and Sam took an hour longer on their run than they usually do," Kerica commented.

"It's all his fault!" Sam pointed at him, wiping his face again with his neck towel, "At first he was cool, he kept tackling Steve just so I could get ahead and then he kept pointing out every fucking snake he saw after I almost stepped on one going across the path!"

Kerica cracked up, "Your really hate snakes that much?!"

"It hissed at me!" Sam cried indignantly.

"All snakes hissed and they weren't deadly." Steve laughed. "But it was fun to watch your expression. I thought birds like snakes."

"They eat them, but I'm not a real bird!" Sam smacked Steve's arm, "You and Clint both!"

"Anyway, were you just being nice, coming to greet us like this?" Buck asked Kerica with a chuckle.

"At first..." Kerica eyed him and Steve, "Though...now..." Buck's face faltered just a fraction, but his poker face was good, "I'd hate to play you at cards, not that I'm much better."

"Pardon?" Buck asked slowly.

"Steve, may I talk to you?" Kerica motioned to the opposite corner, far enough away from good hearing.

"Yeah." Steve gave Bucky a shrug, but he had a bad feeling in his heart. He followed Kerica away from them, hands by his sides, and just hoping that this conversation wasn't going to be...anything that could be worse. "What is it?"

"Swollen lips are a dead giveaway, you know," Kerica folded her arms a bit, cocking her hip, but she looked more disappointed than mad, "I've always had a feeling, but I'm trying to process the idea that it's true...you and him."

Steve looked down at the ground, took a breath, and looked at Kerica. "We talked about this last night. He told me to let him go and go back to being secret. I wasn't going to lie to you, Kerica. Not at this stage."

"I just sprung it a bit early," Kerica hummed, and she gave him a gentle smile, watching his eyes flash in surprise, "It's alright, Steve. I /swear/. You don't have to be secret. You have him back, why do you think I'd take him from you? I like him well enough, myself, but I /really/ don't know your thoughts about that sort of thing, and I doubt Nyah'd like it, either."

"Bucky doesn't have anything with Nyah." Steve pursed his lips together. "At least not yet. I talked to him about it, and..." he shrugged. "He'll see. I don't know what he'll think, about the three of us. I know that I'm not bothered by it..."

Kerica relaxed and she reached for his hand, taking it firmly, "If you don't mind it, then let's go ask him for his opinion. If you're a puppy, then he looks like a brooding cat," she noticed Sam had taken his leave so that would make this easier.

Steve gently squeezed her hand back before tugging her to his side and wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close as they went back to Bucky. "She's right." He broke through Bucky's thoughts. "You do look like a brooding cat."

Buck jumped from looking down at his feet, and he visibly relaxed as he saw how tightly Steve was holding her, "So we fight like cats and dogs, is that what you're saying?"

"Sounds accurate to me," Kerica laughed softly, "Buck...do you have anything against a polygamous relationship? Because I'm not against you and Steve at all, but Steve and I are together, and...I don't know. You're the odd man here."

Buck stared at her and then at Steve, "Is she for real?"

"As real as she can be." Steve said gently. "The only issue we might have in the long run is if you and Nyah get any farther with each other. It's a long way down the road though, so..." he shrugged. "You're basically in charge in this."

"We...don't have to be secret, though, at least with you?" Buck watched her carefully.

"That's what I told Steve, so unless that's like a kink of yours, if I'm around at all you can kiss each other all you want," Kerica smirked.

"I think your girlfriend has a voyeur fetish, Stevie," Buck snorted.

"I wouldn't know, I haven't dated anyone before Steve, so honestly I'm learning as many new things about myself that he is," Kerica admitted.

Buck was quiet for a moment before he reached for Steve, "Let's find out..." and crashed his lips right on Steve's mouth.

Kerica squeaked in surprise since she was still pressed to Steve's side and then suddenly Bucky was there in front of Steve and she felt /really/ tiny against two men both over 6ft tall, but watching Buck's determined face relax and Steve's melt, she bit her lip and her hand that was around Steve's waist gripped his shirt.

They pulled away after a moment, both of them looking at each other darkly before they looked over at Kerica. "Looks like you're right Buck." His voice was hoarse, but not at all unsexy. "Do you mind if I kiss you or would that be too weird?"

Kerica gave him a 'seriously' expression, but her face still felt hot from the scene, "You really don't have to ask. I'll always take your-"

Buck didn't have to do much guessing about what the missing word was, but he did take a respectful step back as Steve captured her soundly. She was just so /little/ and it reminded him of Steve before the serum, if Steve had the ability to gain muscle, because Kerica was pretty solid for her size. It was amusing and sexy at the same time, seeing his best friend and lover bend himself down to reach her.

Kerica had been waiting patiently for Steve to kiss her somewhere other than her cheek since she joined them, but she supposed the heat they shared was just enough reason not to around others, and they hadn't had a break, too focused on Bucky. Right now, she slid her fingers to the back of his neck to hold him to her. Bucky was here and alright, and so now they could relax.

~*~

Nyah's song had touched everyone so very deeply, and a determination like this was something Bucky never experienced before besides Steve. This song she sang had cracked a bunch of holes on his shell, and he knew he was stepping foot in the right direction. He stood up just as T'Challa did and he jumped a bit in surprise, watching the King curiously.

"After listening to your song, Nyah, my anger has dispersed," T'Challa told the blond-haired woman honestly, his tone gentle, apologetic, "I cannot see as you do, but I can see enough. What I caught a glimpse of, I am happy for. I was not before, but now I am grateful for your presence here. A week ago I saw tattered souls, and today I am beginning to see the frays be woven back together and mended."

Nyah smiled brightly like it was the best news she heard. She bowed, low and gentle, her right arm covering her heart as she looked up at T'Challa and carefully straightened herself back up. "Thank you Your Highness." She said with a smile. "I will continue to do my utmost in healing your protected." She looked around the room. "You told me of one, but I see I have my work cut out for me. I'll start with the biggest and go small if it's all the same to everyone." She walked forward to Bucky and held her palms open, wrists up. Her blonde hair weaved in a thousand tiny braids with different colored beads. Just like he asked. "Which means I would like to heal you. You will take the longest...and you seemed to have rested. Will you let me?"

Bucky blinked at her, not quite sure what to make of her upturned palms or if he was supposed to do anything specific. So...he just rolled with whatever felt okay by him, and took both wrists in his large hands, leaning down to kiss the veins on each, "That is what you are here for, after all. I want to be healed, and you make me believe I can be."

She had gasped softly when his lips touched her wrists. It was intimate to her and she could feel her heart pound. Just once, she could hear something faint. Whether it was a note finally allowing her permission to pursue him, or just another melody played for a different type of soulmate, she didn't know. What she did know, was that her lips curved into the gentlest of smiles. She was so glad, so, so glad that she was going to heal him. Her shoulders slumped in relief. "Okay. But there's a few things you should know. When would you like the start?"

"Let's go." Nyah smiled warmly and she took his arm into hers and lead him out of the room. They walked for a little while, not saying anything. Then, she broke the silence. "There's a certain way to heal you, but it's going to be a lot of work." She said after a moment. "I'm talking about the Winter Solider and the passcodes. You were put under so we could break the passcodes and you wouldn't have to fear it, right? Once I find them, I'll have to activate them and talk to the Solider directly."

If there was a sound to how hard and fast Bucky stopped walking, it would be train breaks squealing on railroad tracks, "What?! No. No! That's impossible. I'm dangerous in that state! I could hurt you badly! I could cause so much damage like I did back in America when I broke out then! T'Challa would be angry, my friends would be upset, Steve..." he choked, feeling his breathing become rapid as he started to hyperventilate, panicking.

"Easy, easy." Nyah said softly, soothingly. "Not impossible." At his panicked look, she quickly cupped his face with her hand. "Look at me, Kliech. Look. I have a theory that if I awaken you as the Solider, you will focus on me and ask me for my orders. I do not think you'll hurt me in that state. I don't think you will dream of breaking out if I swear to your other side as safe." She watched him. "Of course, I'm willing to negotiate. I can restrain you if it frightens you that much. But that will mean you will be lying down...and we may have to remove the metal arm so that you can't try to break out of the restraints with it. You're tough, fast, you could kill me in an instant, I know. But if I'm honest with you, I don't think you'll bother much with me." She gently thumbed underneath his eye before she let him go. "Trust me with your soul, with your heart, and I swear to you...I won't lead you wrong."

"You are asking me for a lot," Bucky's voice was broken, his body was shaking, "I know I'm supposed to trust you. I wasn't lying when I said you make me believe I can be saved. Yet...that...asking me for that..." His chest was still heaving, and his ocean eyes dark, "T'Challa, Steve, Sam and Kerica. I will hear them. Steve holds all of which you ask, and if he thinks I can trust you with the same, I'll agree. Kerica...I saw her as my soulmate after your song. I saw what you believe. Her opinions and thoughts matter to me. Sam and Steve trust each other, and he is as logical as he believes in his heart. Why T'Challa? This is his domain. I refuse to do something so dangerous without his okay."

"Take your consul." Nyah murmured softly, gently letting him go. "Ask their opinion. But please allow me to say this much." She watched him for the longest time. "This may be your only way to heal. And as dangerous as it is to you...it is just as dangerous to me. You could very well be my last patient. And I'll be happy if that was true. I'll be more happy if I was proven wrong. But talk. I want you to be at ease with your decision." She smiled at him just a little. "You know, speaking of soulmates, I could have sworn, I started to hear you play a song for someone." She gently placed her palms at her heart and dropped her hands to her sides. "I'll be with Teresa in the Infirmary." She told him lightly. "Should you need me for anything or ask any questions."

~*~

"She wants to do what?" Steve's mind was in a whirlwind of different kinds of thoughts that went all over the place. He was thankful that they were on the balcony so that he had fresh air, otherwise, he would be walking out of whatever room he was in, in order to get some. "Is she insane?"

"That is what I wanted to ask her...I basically said she was in different words," Bucky nodded, "She is...determined, though. She believes it's the only way to help me. I don't know how she thinks she can tame me in that state."

"The soldier is a single-minded machine, only focused on the mission," Sam added, frowning deeply, "I can see where she is going but at the same time I want to shake her for being so reckless."

"Reckless is more of an understatement." Steve shook his head. "There has to be another way. She just isn't thinking of one."

Bucky fidgeted, and he didn't understand why he felt so crestfallen. He knew he should be /happy/ that Steve and his friend Sam agreed with him that it was a stupid idea. Then...the unexpected happened.

"Do it."

Bucky slowly turned to Kerica with his eyes as wide as saucers, and opened and closed his mouth but couldn't say anything.

Sam did for him, "What the /hell/?! You agree with Nyah?! Geezus, did you see him all over the TV as you watched us?! You weren't there, but you /saw/ him, didn't you?!"

"I did." She was firm, staring at Bucky with a determined expression, ignoring Sam.

"Why do you think that's a good idea?" Steve asked, curiously and wondering where Kerica was going with her thoughts. Why did she put so much faith into Nyah?

"It's a state of /mind/," Kerica looked at Steve, taking a breath and slowly explained, "The Winter Soldier is different yet the same as Bucky. Like a split personality almost but not quite. He can't communicate on the other side of the glass, only watch."

"Don't," Bucky choked. That was like hitting the nail on the head and he flinched when Sam looked at him in surprise.

"That. That right there is why you should do it, Buck," Kerica's brows knitted together and her lips were pressed into a thin line, "You're also worried about hurting her. You won't. You /can't/ hurt your Commanding Officer because they give you the orders your brainwashing needs you to follow."

"/How/?!" Bucky exploded, stepping back from Kerica, "How the hell are you doing that?! You're reading my goddamn mind!"

"Soul Reading."

"Soul...reading?" Steve paused. That explained about why she was so observant during her time in S.H.I.E.L.D and why Natasha took her on as her student. "Is it like what Nyah can do?"

"I can't heal." Kerica said, sighing, "It is a trait I gained from Meara, which is why he is a doctor. he cannot heal the soul, but he can heal the body, and he took that as good enough. There was a time I thought about becoming a counselor, but I am too much of fighter." She looked back at Bucky, "Forgive me, but words such as /Homecoming/..." his jaw dropped in shock, "/Seventeen/ and /One/..."

"STOP!" Bucky slapped his hand over his mouth, white as a ghost and terrified, stepping back further.

"Those words shouldn't scare you." Kerica turned around, "They should be an empowerment. Nyah can make that happen. She can break the glass." She walked away.

"What...the fuck just happened, Steve?" Sam asked, dumbfounded and looked over when Bucky slumped to the ground, back against the veranda wall.

"I think that was Kerica's version of a slap...and....I think those were some of the words used to create a passcode. Bucky." Steve quickly got over to his friend's side and gently placed a hand on his shoulder, kneeling next to him. "Look you don't /have/ to do this." He assured his friend. "We can force Nyah to look a different direction. But if you want to do this, if you think that Kerica's right..." and she was right as much as Steve hated to admit it right now and he wouldn't. Not to Bucky's face. "...then we can be there."

Bucky turned his face away, not willing to let Sam see his tears, "Let me breathe. Give me an hour. I need to talk to T'Challa as well." Not a yes, not a no.

"I'll go...do my own thing. This reaffirmed that you need serious help, and...I do agree with Kerica. This isn't good." Before Sam could be told to shut up, he hurried away.

"She asks me to trust her with my soul and my heart, Steve, I couldn't add that with them here..." Bucky looked up into troubled eyes as blue as the sky above them, "You have those. As I...proved last night. Do you think...she can help me if I share?"

Steve looked at him with sadness and he gently brought his hands up to cradle his best friend's face. "I think," he said slowly, carefully. "That I'm used to you chasing skirts while I was left at home or being dragged on double dates that didn't mean much." He teased, but he knew it fell flat. "I also think that this is...incredibly risky, and I wonder if she knows the risks involved. If she does, and you're hundred percent sure that you can handle this...that this is something you want to do, then I think you should allow her to attempt it. I think that Nyah would never hurt you, Buck. Never on purpose. She loves you, if the song she wrote for you wasn't indication enough."

Bucky nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat, "Not...one hundred, but I think seventy-five is a good number," he laughed weakly, "I need you there if T'Challa even agrees to allow it. Just...stay out of my line of sight. We haven't had a single good encounter with me like that. You don't need to be a catalyst."

"Whatever you need." Steve whispered softly, pressing a kiss to Bucky's cheek and holding him close. "I'll stay out of your line of sight, just in case. Do you need me to be with you to talk to T'Challa?"

"Probably a good idea, he respects you highly," Bucky nodded and allowed Steve to help him up, before pressing a direct kiss to his lips, "Thank you."

~*~

"The castle compound is on complete lockdown and high alert, but he gets to keep his arm and you get to do whatever you need to do with him restrained in a chair. Easier for you to look him in the eye," T'Challa told Nyah firmly.

"If that's your Highness' wish then that's what I'll do." Nyah said, placing her right arm over her heart and bowing in respect before turning to Bucky. He was standing with Steve, his cheeks lost all of it's color. Sam, Kerica were also there. Sam looking more and more skeptical as the seconds ticked by and Kerica looking like a statue, firm mouth pressed into a thin line. She heard that Kerica was the entire reason why this was happening and Nyah had to admit that later on, she would want to ask her own questions to the woman. But, not now. She looked at the chair that they were going to use to restrain him. It was supposed to be enough to retain the metal arm and she could only hope that would work.

"I think it's time. We should get out of the way. I hope the words I gave you help you find the rest," Kerica told Nyah as she approached.

"Go on." Nyah took a breath in and out. "I'm as ready as I can be."

"As am I..." Bucky eyeballed the chair, before he felt Steve's firm hand on his shoulder. Another breath, and he didn't look at them, just headed for it and allowed them to strap him in. Chest pounding, he swallowed down the panic as memories of the worst kind fluttered through his mind, "Nyah...leto...will you stop to let me breathe if I say that?"

"Leto." Nyah repeated and smiled as she nodded. "Yes, that will be our safeword." She gently touched his forehead. "We'll start easy okay? Nice and easy. I want you to count your breaths. Four breaths in, a pause, and four breaths out." She demonstrated. "And as you breathe out, relax your muscles. It'll help some if you close your eyes and imagine another place."

"I don't want to close my eyes." Bucky didn't want the memories and images to overwhelm him. "Just let me look at yours." He did as she instructed him otherwise. In, pause, out.

The way his eyes stared at her made her move. She breathed, following the pattern that he set. She could see him trying to memorize her face, her clothes, her hair. She could see him trying to relax, tensing here and there. She carefully moved and took his hand that was strapped and started massaging the wrist and moving upward his arm. "Keep breathing." She murmured. "I'm trying to help you relax." She gently moved her hand to his shoulder and down his chest. "You have a good energy flow. A little nervous, but it's nothing terrible. I'm going to follow your energy okay? When I become still, don't interrupt. Don't move. Don't speak unless it's to safeword out. Do you understand? Do not speak to me unless you're safewording out. You have to continue to breathe."

Bucky nodded slowly, firmly, keeping rhythm. The beginning wasn't ever the worst part. He could handle it to an extent. Trust. Faith. He had to have those in her. His soul, his heart. They had to be hers for this to work. He focused on her hands, where they trailed his arm, making his skin burn and tingle, on his shoulders and chest...so comforting. When was the last time a woman touched him intimately when it wasn't trying to cause harm?

She could feel his uncertanity and his determination wave through her like he was giving her permission and she allowed her breathing to deepen and her mind to go blissfully blank. She felt her energy swirl at her fingertips before started to follow the trail that Bucky was leading her down on. It was a crazy way of travel too. Even though he was surrendering, a part of him, a subconscious part of him, was trying to lead her away. Trying to make her spin around into a different direction. A few times she had to stop herself, pull back and take her own time out because of how often he lead her around in circles. A few times, she noticed that he kept leading her to the Throat Chakra and the Sacral Chakra. But she didn't want the surface, she wanted to go in deeper. Which meant that she would have to find another way to do it. She took another breath and went along the energy lines again, this time pushing /past/ Bucky's lead and going on her own course to something a little darker. The energy levels that were once warm were starting to turn to ice and she could feel herself shiver as she followed this line.

This line was more of a solider's watch and a sniper's scope. She could hear her energy snap, and she could hear the deafening silence surround. She could feel Bucky's energy trying desperately to try and pull her back, but the lines were protecting her and she realized...she wouldn't be able to hear Bucky's safeword, should he safeword out. The line seemed to feel a little....agitated that she was getting nervous and allowed Bucky's energy to flow in, just at tiny bit. Enough so that if she needed to back away, she could feel him pull her out. But it was clear whose territory that she was in.

This was the cold winter, the icy frozen depths. Nyah breathed deeply as she continued to follow. What came to her first, was of two children, faceless and nameless running past her in as a ghost. Laughter echoing in her head as she spun around to see where they have run off to. Once more, Bucky's energy had disappeared, and it was clear that he couldn't pull her out. All she could do now, is hope that the line would let her go should he safeword. But the ghostly children didn't end there. She saw another pair of figures sitting on a stoop, sharing what looked to be an ice cream cone. Another pair of children playing in the yard, one hitting a baseball, the other drawing.

A word came to her mouth and she held it firm as she continued to go down the pathways.

This one was of a man, clearly out of shape and sickly. Face still unseen and his body blurred in a vaporized image. He was punching, kicking, and the sound of a Russian yelling echoed through her mind. He was training, learning how to fight. It was clear that they were not happy with his progress. It was clear that to them, he wasn't moving quickly enough. Not like he used to be able to.

Another word at the tip of her tongue and she swallowed it continuing forward. This time, the image of a museum entered her mind. It wasn't so blurred, more crystal which meant it was a newer memory. Something that, even the line couldn't shake off. She held the number in her mind, but she felt the reminder, a gentle twinge to tell her that the number had to be split apart and she'd know how to do it when the time came.

The next was...just echoes of words. Words that were talking of "a dawn of a new century" and "you were the best there ever was." There was a since of pride and sicking disgust as these words were echoed around him. "You shaped a century." "You are my son, my creation." "You are my brightest pupil" and a little boy, ghostly as the rest with a smile that reminded her of the sunrise.

She felt chilled, her body turning into ice and she could feel her throat clog up and her heart beginning to spasm in her chest. She couldn't pull herself out and she knew, oh she knew that she was going to push herself to her limit here, but Bucky needed this more than her. She pushed forward, ignoring the cold thinking of heat. Two ghostly figures sleeping in the same bed, trying to warm themselves up underneath the covers. Another ghostly pair, of men this time, sharing a bedroll while a cold winter's storm raged. The feeling of coming out of ice, and into a very warm room that still chilled the skin.

She held her tongue. This was where the number she saw, was splitting itself.

The next was a sense of pride. Of a ghostly figure defending a young boy on the ground. Of a man clapping and cheering behind another who was looking surprised, skeptical, and then happy to have been the one to bring them home. She saw little girls sitting on the stairs while a big brother was talking to them animatedly and another boy just drawing, a fond smile on his face as he listened to the conversation around him. The title, Sergeant, was given in honor.

The next was strong, crystal clear memory and words that were just recently given. She could hear Wanda's voice talking to Bucky about coming back, she could hear Steve talk about the Avengers and what Tony was doing now that they were out of the picture. She could hear Kerica, defending her and her abilities and she had to stop. The line tugged at her insistently trying to get her to continue.

There was no stopping now that she was moving.

Again a number split and she remembered to place that number here in that slot. The last was of a roaring of a train, a loud scream, and Nyah could swear she felt her arm tear right off. She let out a scream, horrified and in pain. The line let her go and a thin voice, practically soundless whispered to her. "Call me out."

All of the sudden Nyah was collapsing on her knees, uncertain where she was and why she was on the cold tile floor. Her hair matted to her forhead and her breathing rugged. She could feel herself shaking, like a leaf in a horrible thunderstorm. She had to blink a few times, no one tried to come near her, and she could hear Bucky's voice though it sounded far, far away. The words tasted sour in her mouth, she knew the order and she knew what they were. "Call me out." She repeated softly, mostly to herself as she tried to sit up, her palms slick with sweat and slipping as she tried to get herself up and off of the floor. "That was...not supposed to be the result."

"You know them. You know the words." He disobeyed her orders not to speak unless it was the safeword, but he felt as weak as she looked. She'd gone so deep...he /felt/ it, it made him dizzy and he thumped his head on the back of the chair, letting out a long breath.

"Yeah." Nyah replied just as breathlessly. She felt like she ran for miles. Her body sore and aching. Her heart was doing all sort of crazy things and she knew too well that she was on the verge of getting really sick. "I don't have much time." She pushed herself up, carefully getting to her knees and then up off the floor. She nearly stumbled into the chair, grabbing onto the chair's arm. "Not enough time. Give me time." She whispered frantically to herself. "Can I use them?" She asked after a moment of gathering her bearings.

"Are you okay?" he asked in turn, brows furrowed, "Kerica. I won't hurt her if you need her to help you once you start and I...slip into that state. I don't know how I know, but I do."

"There's nothing she can do." Nyah shook her head from side to side. "You...I have to do this." She gripped onto the chair's arm, her knuckles losing color. "I have to." She bowed her head and suddenly started coughing. She was ever so thankful that she didn't taste blood. This was just the start. "Actually...wait..." She tried to push herself up, off of the chair's arm, but she found herself unable to. She wanted to scream in frustration, but now was /not/ the time. "Can she speak Russian?"

"Natasha taught me, though I got a bit rusty over the five months. Why? Do you need me to tell you the translation?" Kerica asked.

"Yes." Nyah nodded. "Actually, I need you to speak the words for me. And somehow pass command over to me."

"O-Okay," Kerica actually looked up at Steve in shock, "Are you okay with that?"

Steve's teeth clenched. It was clear something was going wrong. Nyah couldn't stand, Bucky was also in worse shape. He didn't want to toss Kerica into the fray but he promised Bucky that this was his say-so. Bucky even said that he wouldn't hurt Kerica, that he'd just slip into the state. "Yeah..." He said after a moment, though he really, really wasn't. "Help her out...please."

"Sam...Sam go, the less people who know the words the better," Kerica told him firmly, shoving him towards the door. T'Challa had left the room after telling Nyah the goings-on, so she didn't need to worry about him.

"Okay, okay, I get the hint, I'm gone. I'll get Teresa and Meara on standby, though," Sam promised, the door getting slammed in his face.

Bucky didn't like what was going on, "One more question...why? Why not stop? Why do you want to keep going? Proof?"

Nyah looked at Bucky and she smiled, thinly. "No." She said after a moment. "Because he asked me to call him out." She took a shuddering breath. "I'm going to be okay." She said, "I'm going to be okay. Besides. If Kerica doesn't know the words and I faint now, you might not get them and that'll just be awful. T'Challa might as well execute me on the spot."

"Tell me, then," Kerica knelt beside Nyah and helped her at least sit more comfortably on the floor, but still close to Bucky so she could touch him.

"Longing, rusted, seventeen, daybreak, furnace, nine, benign, homecoming, one, freight car." Nyah coughed, hiding her face into her elbow. "And the Russian word for Soldier. Though I think I need that...so if you can tell me how to pronounce it I'll do my best."

"That's easy, it's just Soldat," Kerica assured, "Just make it throaty, if you can..." she frowned. Thee of the words she'd discovered earlier, the rest made her stomach turn. Standing, she swallowed thickly and looked at Steve, and at his nod even though he had a stern face on, she looked at Bucky, "You won't hate me, right?" That'd be a sucky way to go after they just made their relationship a three-way. She was surprised he didn't hate her for what she did on the veranda.

"I won't. It's okay," Bucky nodded, voice soothing.

"I'll stop when you say Leto, like you told Nyah," Kerica promised, before she took a deep breath and braced her feet. She tried to be as firm as she could be, "Zhelaniye." Longing. She and Bucky locked eyes, his unblinking, prepared even though he flinched. "Prorzhavevshiy." Rusted. She wrinkled her nose at that one, her throat sticking in a weird way, but she didn't butcher it and Bucky flinched again, so it struck a cord anyway. "Semnadtsat." Seventeen. Flinch, and his eyes narrowed. "Rassvet." Daybreak. Bucky /jerked/ at that one and Kerica's stomach knotted. The dawn of when he became the Soldier?

"Pech'," Furnace. Bucky closed his eyes and his face was grim, breathing out through his nose heavily. Steve tilted his head a bit, but Kerica continued, "Dyehvit." Nine. A more violent jerk and a snarl, his hands gripping the chair, the metal one causing the arm to squeak.

Steve couldn't keep watching this. He had half of the mind to tell them to stop. He had to clench his fists and keep himself still and trust. He had to /trust/ and it was hard because he swore to Bucky that Nyah would take good care of his heart and soul. If this was what "good care" meant, then he was tempted to draw it back and tell Buck he was sorry. So sorry. He shouldn't have even let this get this far.

Uck, the next two words also made her throat stick, so she them slowly, but staying firm, "Dobrokachestvennyy." Benign. A grunt and Buck's foot stomped on the floor, his head tossing back, "Vozvrashcheniye domoy." Homecoming. Kerica's jaw ticked as she clenched her teeth, and she had to cover her own mouth, feeling like she was going to throw up. What she Read in his Soul made her head spin. Buck didn't have to say Leto.

"Odin." One. The chair scraped on the ground, the arm squeaking more. Bucky gnashed his teeth and tossed his head again.

Looking at Steve, she mouthed 'I'm sorry' before she said the last phrase. This one would hurt him the most, that this was the end to the sequence. "Gruzovoy avtomobil'." Freight Car. It would be different if she didn't have to say it, if she didn't have to be in front of Bucky /Reading/ his /Soul/ like she had been before. The way Bucky stopped squirming and slumped in the chair made her so close to vomiting all over the floor. As it was, she just backed against the wall and used it as support to slide down to the ground.

Nyah could feel the tension in the air, could feel how this was tearing apart everyone who was watching this. Kerica who was practically keeling over and Steve who looked like he was about to bash someone's face in. Now it was her turn, as she listened to Bucky's soft breath. She barely could hear it and she pushed herself up. She scowled her knees to stay firm as she stood before him. She forced herself to look at him and gently bring her hands to her heart, prayer, before offering them to him, "Soldat. Hello."

Kerica glanced towards Steve and could see his fists clench as Buck...the Winter Soldier...raised his head and in perfect Russian replied...

"Gotov vypolnit'." Ready to comply.

Kerica half expected Steve to punch the wall.

Steve nearly did punch the wall, but held himself in check. Last thing he needed was to startle the Solider into thinking they were enemies again.

"No. No mission this time, Kleich." Nyah said soothingly as she reached out and touched his hand. He flinched from her touch, but she kept it steady. She watched him and then blinked. Just faintly, she could hear a beat of a drum that was starting to be learned how to play. It was unpracticed, but there was a beat. The Solider wasn't supposed to have a song, but his eyes met hers...and he was playing her a song.

The Soldier's brows furrowed at her, and something that didn't happen very often at all, he spoke. The Winter Soldier actually /spoke/. "Lyuboznatel'nyy..."

"Uh..." Kerica wracked her brain, "Curious. That meant curious." She froze when he snapped his eyes to her, and she flew the words out, "Perevedite! YA perevodchik!"

Arching a brow at her, he simply snorted and returned his gaze to Nyah.

"I told him I was a translator," Kerica let out a relieved sigh.

Nyah wasn't certain what to say now that she had him with her. Just a simple drum beat and her own inability to make her mouth move. She was also dizzy. Which didn't help much. "You told me you wanted me to call you out."

"Ekzoticheskiy..." he paused, "Ochevidets..." a shake of his head, and then.../amusement/? "Nastoychivyy."

"Vy flirtuyet s ney?" Kerica asked, her voice dumbfounded.

A low, deep hum, "YA mogu byt'. Assasin? Net, net ugrozy."

"Devil tongue. All of it devil tongue." Nyah looked between the two of them, raising her eyebrows. "Anyone going to include me in this conversation?"

Kerica coughed, her face hot, and she stood up, straightening herself, "He called you exotic and then beholder. Followed by /persistent/. I asked him if he was flirting with you and the shitlord said 'i might be'."

"Gryaznyy yazyk. YA mogu vas ponyat'," Dirty tongue. I can understand you. Soldier grumbled.

"Good." She told him.

"I'm supposing there's no way to speak English so I can /at least/ talk back?" Nyah shook her head from side to side sighing loudly. "Considering that was all in English."

Steve was /not/ sure how to take any of this. The Winter Solider, openly flirting with Nyah? What? He looked over at the windows, wondering what his friends were thinking of this. Surely they heard what was going on. He really, really hoped for Nyah's sake that the Winter Solider wasn't trying to lead Nyah on. It would've been a specialty.

"He can understand you just fine," Kerica promised, then looked at Buck. She felt fine now. With the banter she wasn't as horrified as she was before, "Can you speak English for us?"

"Yesli ona komanduyet yego." If she commands it.

"You have to tell him to speak English, you do control him," Kerica explained.

Nyah wanted to bang her head on the arm of the chair. Why didn't she think of that? "Soldat. English. I can't understand that tongue and it's driving me crazy with Kerica-no offense- trying to translate."

"It was amusing. Kerica is not afraid of me," Soldier replied simply, his voice a lot rougher and deeper than when he talked normally as Bucky, "I like that. You are not afraid, either."

"I think my fear has run out of minutes." Nyah sighed as she rubbed her head. "You told me that you wanted to be called out." She could feel her body stiffen when he spoke, rough and cold. The drum was starting to pick up hints of a melody, but it was clear that he was still practicing. It made her swallow thickly. She wasn't certain where to place herself in this. The Solider clearly wasn't singing for /anyone/ else and even when he looked at Kerica or even glanced at Steve, the drum only faltered just enough to make him pick it back up stronger.

"You confused me. I do not understand why you would seek me and the passcodes if there was no mission," Soldier responded, "I speak simpler in Russian, but not everything I am able to get across. I did say persistence as well."

"That was curious before, you were curious about Nyah?" Kerica tilted her head.

"Yes," he nodded.

"And beautiful and the beholder." Nyah repeated his gentle lines, but there was no anger or resentment, but fun little teasing. "I'm a Soul-Healer." She said after a moment. She reached up and touched his chest. His energy calmer, like a river stream. "I heal Souls, cracks and fission. I try to bring people whole, or at least some semblance of it."

"I am...broken?" Soldier sounded confused, "Hydra beat me down and brought me up again so I would not be."

Nyah wasn't sure where to go with this. She let her touch fall from his chest and she looked at him, curiously. "No, you're not broken." She said after a moment. "You're starting to play a song. It's something you're learning. Though I'm not sure why you decided to start now." She touched his hand. "The soul is a delicate matter. You are the two sides of the same coin. You're not a personality. You are the protective subconscious. You /were/ broken a long time ago, but...well...I think Steve and Kerica are a little ahead of their times."

Soldier was quiet as he tried to think about her words. Yet the harder he tried the more confused he became, "I do not understand what you are saying? A song? Who is the other side?"

Nyah could see why the Solider didn't know his other side. Wiped, tortured, forgotten memories that he held shreds on but didn't know the meaning of. The song part was her fault. "Sorry. I just...I can hear your soul begin to play a song. It's the first song you've played since you were created. As for the other side, does the name...James Buchanan Barnes....mean anything to you? Bucky perse?"

"Captain America, during my mission to kill him, mentioned a Bucky...I don't know him," Soldier shook his head.

"That's alright." Nyah said softly. "Do you want to know about him, or would you rather leave it alone? To be honest, Solider, this is your time to ask questions."

"I saw you...wandering through memories that were blurred like foggy, frosted glass in the winter," Soldier said slowly, "I recognized them as my memories, yet they were not my memories. The blurry boy drawing always intrigues me..." a gasp behind him, but in his restraints he couldn't look behind him. "Are those Bucky's memories?"

"I would believe so. Fragments of what he held dear and what were used as pass codes." Nyah agreed after a moment. "Let me see if I can put it this way. Bucky currently is acting like a photo album. He remembers everything you did while you were killing and learning how to kill. However, in the process of remembering and trying to climb out, both of you lost things that were important. Bucky's recovering those memories, but apparently....not you. You more or less remember all of the missions that you were on, am I wrong?"

"I remember all of them," Soldier felt like he had said those words before, "This tells me this Bucky is a real person. I was not aware he was me. All I was ever told was to focus on my mission. I was never asked to talk."

"I will not command you. You're free to talk and ask questions here." Nyah said firmly. "Kliech, as long as you will it...you're safe here. My mission, my goal, is to make it so that you are. The pass codes are dangerous, it can allow anyone who knows them to get in. I have a few ideas. Perhaps modifying them would be the best route, but what I really would like to happen...and perhaps it's my own dream...is to see if you and Bucky will work in harmony and you can resist the pass codes call."

"I would have to hear Bucky first in order to work alongside him," Solder furrowed his brows at her, "You say it is your mission to make me feel safe, yet is it not I that should have the mission to keep you that way?"

"I don't think you have to bother with my safety." Nyah said after a moment of being taken aback, uncertain if that was his siren's call or if it was just his protective side kicking into gear. "I can help you hear him when you're ready to." She took a breath and had to close her eyes as she felt her knees buckle underneath her weight. She was surprised she lasted so long standing up. "I have to sit down. I'm sorry." She said as she sunk herself down, her heart was pumping too fast and she was starting to have trouble seeing. She closed her eyes again and continued talking. "Though if you want to share the protect order, we can do that. Speaking of protect order. There is someone here who knows Bucky Barnes. You know him as Captain America, but I know him as Steve Rogers. I know you were ordered to kill on sight, but...I want you to ignore that order. He's an ally now."

"So that is whom was behind me..." Solider muttered, "I thought his energy was familiar." He watched Kerica disappear, leading Steve cautiously into his field of vision, their hands intertwined. His body tensed and jerked, but he closed his eyes and breathed, "Just don't come too close...Captain. The orders...they are like a fly in summer that refuses to go away or die. Constantly buzzing in my mind when I see you. Repeated over and over. They told me to kill you many times over the years." He opened his eyes to stare at Steve, who stared right back. He looked...dumbstruck, and his eyes were a bit unfocused, like he was seeing something else, or his mind was going too fast for his face to keep up. "If Nyah, my new Commander, tells me you are no threat then I will attempt not to see you as one."

"I don't think she's/I'm that good of a Commander." Steve and Nyah said together at the same time. Nyah with a laughing tone in her voice despite that she was on the ground and trying to hold herself together, and Steve with a bit of weariness. They both looked at each other and Steve frowned at her. "Are you sure you're-?"

She waved him off. "I think, I think I'll be okay. Minor panic attack. It comes and goes." At least she wasn't dying, but she was pretty certain that when this was all over Teresa was going to put her on bed rest and never let her see the light of day for about a week if not more. She waved at him. "I'm not here."

Steve nodded and turned towards Bucky. No. The Solider. Eyes grim, face set, and a smirk playing at the lips. He knew very well what type of person the Solider was, fighting with him time and time again. Single-minded was what made him deadly. However, he was going to have to put in a lot of faith that Nyah being the new "Commander" or even "handler", was going to be enough. He wasn't sure of what question to ask first. "You don't know whose on the other side?" Was the only thing that he could come up with. "Then how do you...appear. Just the pass codes?"

"The passcodes," Soldier agreed, "Though I know there are a few words before it, they allude me. I always hear 'daybreak' first and know I'm being called. Before that I feel like I am sleeping a very long time. Often it is in a cold place. I know I am not liked, and I don't ask to be, I just sometime wish the dark was quieter."

"I think Nyah likes you." Was the only quip that Steve could come up with. So daybreak was what really brought the Solider home. He looked down at his feet, trying to come up with something. Anything. Here was his chance, and he felt like he was losing Bucky all over again. He looked over at Nyah who was leaning against the chair, her head subtly pressing into the Solider's knee. He looked back at the Solider. "Are your pass codes well known in Hydra?"

"A red book...they kept it in a red book with a black star, and only one Commander ever used it. Until...that scrawny man back in America," Soldier scowled, "At least the Hydra Commander had balls. I didn't like the scrawny one. Sleazy, that is the word I would use."

That could be any number of people, but it made Steve fear about that damn red book. "We'll have to do something about the passcodes then, so Hydra doesn't get you back." He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to think of something, anything. "I don't want to hurt you."

"That would be advisable, because I don't /want/ to hurt you, either. I was always told to, not that I had anything against you in particular. The mission is my objective and I understand that. I did not understand why they hated you so much," Soldier shrugged, though it was small since his arms were held down.

"I think it's because I can't stay down from a fight." Steve admitted as he looked at the Solider for the longest time. He remembered how Bucky didn't want to fight. How he was drafted into the war, and again when he was asked to continue going with him through Alanzo. He forced his best friend to fight, not even knowing that he was putting him through so much pain. The Solider clearly had those traits. An unwillingness to hurt, but if it was the mission then so be it. "How would we fix the pass codes? I refuse to do it by conditioning."

"To be honest, Captain, that is a question I do not have the answer for. I never had to think about it before. There may be a way, there may not be. Yet I feel as though the bigger issue here is getting me to sense and feel and hear your Bucky. The passcodes can come later, I am not too worried about them, if the one calling me does not have any orders for me that would harm someone. That is what you are worried about the most," he glanced down at Nyah, and twisted his flesh hand in his restraint so he could catch a braid close to his fingers and toyed with it, marveling at the bright beads, "I do believe there will be a next time...but so long as you keep those who wish harm away from me, you do not have to fear me. It would be nice, perhaps later down the line, to be called in a place that is not so dark and confiding. I always wake up this way, it has become the norm for me. That does not mean I like it, and no one has ever asked what I would /like/ before."

Kerica squeezed Steve's hand, having not let go of it, and looked up at him, "If you want me to, I can write the words down for you, and you can burn the paper when you memorize them."

"I think next time I'll tell Bucky that we won't restrain you." Nyah was a little surprised at the soft touch to the braids and got herself up. Steve looked over at Kerica and wordlessly nodded his agreement. "We can come up with something. Have you wake up somewhere nicer. I think the pass codes are a little less worrisome. If there is a book, there's a book. I think the only thing we can do is associate you with us." /With me/ but she wasn't about to say that. The Solider, ultimately, didn't belong to anyone.

"If I can come and go at will, knowing Bucky is there, then that would be a vast improvement..." Soldier suddenly thunked his head on the chair, letting out a huff and furrowed his brows, his chest heaving up and down like he was having trouble breathing, "We are...all weak here. Nyah...Mm...Handler, if you don't like being called Commander...I know I will go back to the dark and cold to sleep if you wish me away, telling me my mission is done. You said there is no mission, but I think the mission really was to help you understand. I have done that, have I not?"

Nyah felt her chest hurt. She felt bad that she was going to do this and she looked at Steve. Steve nodded, his eyes hooded as he looked away, still holding on to Kerica's hand tightly. "Alright." She said after a moment and she cupped his cheek with her hand. "Nyah. Call me Nyah. I'm a friend to you Solider. That being said, the mission's done and over with. It's okay to go to sleep now. We'll call you again, I promise. Somewhere less dark and less cold."

"Nyah..." he murmured, softer, deeper, as he stared into her eyes. He felt his body stiffen, but the warm chocolate kept him calm, and he slumped forward when the darkness surrounded him again, his mission completed.

A moment later, Bucky groaned and leaned back, looking absolutely exhausted and he blinked his foggy eyes, "My head feels like it's going to explode. I need painkillers."

"You're back!" Kerica was relieved, and she let go of Steve so she could jump forward and started to undo the restraints, "You did great, Buck."

"Everyone's safe?" Bucky asked, voice ragged and he swallowed thickly. When he could move his flesh hand again he stretched it out and flexed it, grunting at the sore skin and muscles for being in that position for so long.

"I'm getting you out of those restraints." Steve said quickly as he immediately moved forward to undo the handwork and get Bucky out of the chair, along with Kerica's help. Nyah moved away, but it was sluggish. "You did real good, Buck. Real good. We got a lot of information-" he heard something thump behind him and he turned around swiftly to see that Nyah was on the ground, her nose bleeding and gasping for breath. Before anyone could do anything, the doors barged open and Teresa, along with Marea, were already on the scene.

"Nyah!" Buck cried out, tugging his metal arm's restraints until Steve was able to undo the last bolt, and his knees skidded on the tile as he scooped Nyah up, Teresa taking Nyah's wrist to check her pulse and Meara cleaning away the blood on her nose and shining a flashlight in her eyes, "What's going on?!" he asked, cradling her head to his chest. Did he do something? Was he that damaged that he didn't have to hurt her physically, but he could hurt her with his soul? His stomach twisted harshly and he probably looked a bit green around the edges.

Teresa looked at Bucky, a little surprised that he was there and worried. She had half-expected the Solider, for some reason even if he was asleep. "Not you." She said quickly. "It's not you. Talk to me later about it." She turned to Marea. "She needs hospital. Her heartbeat's slowing. Too much adrenaline. Help me pick her up and we need to get her out of here. Now."

"I'll carry her!" Bucky told them firmly, and promptly did so, scrambling to his feet with her safely tucked against his chest. He wobbled a bit on his feet, not realizing just how /drained/ he was, his head spinning with dizziness and his vision split for a second, but he closed one eye and steeled himself, "You can take the compound off lockdown, I'm okay. Let's go."

"Alright, it'll be alright," Meara soothed them, and he nodded at Teresa, "You know how to take care of her the most, so just lead me through it," he told her and the three of them headed out of the room.

Kerica let out a rush of breath when they were left alone and looked at Steve, "How about that paper?"

~*~

"Tell me, tell me what's wrong with her," Bucky pleaded with Teresa about an hour later when Nyah was stable and in her room resting. They were sitting in the office Teresa had taken for herself, and he was pacing back and forth, "She pushed herself for me, and I have no idea what's wrong. She spoke about something in her song, I didn't understand it but they're connected somehow. We should've stopped while we were ahead. There can always be 'later' it's not like the world will burn if I go another day like I am."

Teresa had sat down heavily in her chair, watching Bucky pace wearily. It was a bit surprising to her that Bucky was affected so strongly. When Steve and Kerica had watched them leave, Teresa could feel that they were both questioning it. She was questioning it too. It wasn't a secret that Nyah was in love with Bucky, and now the Solider, but the Solider responded to Nyah. Could it be that since the Solider responded, Bucky was feeling it? She didn't know. "James." She snapped after a moment of watching him pace. "Sit down, deep breaths. I'll...tell you everything." She sighed, bowing her head. "Though I will tell you this ahead of time, Nyah doesn't do "later"."

"Yeah, I got that. She got overwhelmed because of it," he frowned deeply. Turning to her, he did as she asked and sat down, "You say its not my fault, but I put a lot of strain on her. She was weak just after doing one thing, I saw it, felt it, but she just kept going and she told me to trust her so I let her continue."

"It's not you." Teresa repeated. She scooted her chair forward, hands clasped in her lap. She thought about how to say this. Really thought about it. Once she got her words in the right order, she began. "And it's not one thing. Anyone else who tried to do that, Bucky, would be in a coma right about now. They would be beyond shattered because of how much pain and torment your soul went through. The Elder gave you Nyah not because she's the best. But because Nyah is on the brink of life and death and therefore is able to go further with the soul healing than anyone."

Bucky's eyes widened and Teresa decided to continue. "Nyah has a small heart, Bucky. A good sized, but a small weak heart. When I was her doctor before I was her mother, I used to try everything I could to double it in size. That included steroids and other herbal medicines that could stimulate the same thing. I watched her have heart attack after heart attack, seizures at times. I watched her howl in pain because she couldn't breathe and her poor little heart just overworked itself trying to pump blood. I know this story sounds familiar to you. I know that Steve had the same issues with his asthma and hearing and all sorts."

Tersea looked down at her hands and unclasped them. "Nyah called you her last patient, not because she's jinxing this. It's because she's aware that you can very well be her last. She pushed for those words so that if she died at that moment, Kerica had them and would be able to do what she could with the information. She told me that her soul believes you to be her soulmate in love. I can see that. Nyah loves fiercely, with everything she has and more, but you...you gave her a different kind of love. For the first time, her soul /sang/ and little by little, you're becoming her accompaniment. I have to admit, I wasn't expecting the Solider to take her in as well as he did. My belief is that he sees her as something special. Something to marvel at. And before you try, Nyah is your only hope. Nyah is the one the Solider needs and you. If she dies in the process, she dies happy. She dies doing the thing that she wanted to do."

They had to have a way to keep her alive. She was in their world now, and once you stepped into the Avengers, there was no going back. He would fight for her, and if they had to go days or weeks at a time, then they would. "I think she laced her energy with mine when she went so deep, but whatever it was, I heard her singing. Its pretty. I understand what she means. I told her to slow down, but if it is going to be this way, then I will try. Perhaps if we become linked strongly enough, she can rely on me for support."

Teresa smiled warmly, "I always knew you were the good sort, Bucky. She does lace her energy with others in order to go in deep." She mused. "I do recall her telling me that." She watched Bucky for a moment before softening her expression. From dealing with Steve since he was young, it was no surprise that Bucky would step back into the role of caregiver again. "I'm glad that I didn't scare you off, that you're still willing to be her soulmate."

"It does scare me, because I haven't loved anyone but Steve and my family before. For over seventy years I didn't let anyone get close to me, because of Hydra, because of everything I went through and any woman was someone who could kill me just as well," Bucky shook his head, "I am going to push through my fear, however. That is the point of all of this, to push through and persevere, or I won't get better. I know I'll be rewarded in the end." He stood up and ran his hand through his hair, "Do you think it would be okay if I went to visit her? Or should I stay away for a little while to give her breathing room?"

"I think she'd love it if you visited her." Teresa said with a smile. "She may or may not be able to communicate very well depending on how she's feeling, but she'd love to hear your voice. I'm sure she's worried about scaring you, so it'll kill two birds with one stone if you go see her."

"Okay...okay...thank you, I will go do that then," Bucky gave her a polite nod, "I appreciate the information. It puts a few pieces in place." He smiled and turned around, heading to his new destination.

~*~

He wasn't surprised her door was open, as Teresa would have to come check on her. His eyes softened as he saw her sprawled out on her bet, chest rising and falling rhythmically to signal she was asleep, her hair spread out around her. Closing the door silently and moving further inside, he spotted the bead bowl on her dresser. When he grabbed it and turned back to her, she had rolled onto her side and was gripping her pillow. She was so lovely like that. A thought crossed his mind, and a smile danced on his lips. Slowly, he kicked off his shoes and climbed onto the bed, sitting cross-legged and the bead bowl in his lap. She hadn't woken, and he was glad. Reaching out, he took one braid in his hand and started unraveling it, placing the beads in the bowl as he went, enjoying the soft strands of her honey-gold hair through his fingers. He'd had quite a few undone when he realized he was humming to himself, and recognized it as her song. He didn't stop, finding it a comfort.

Nyah woke up, slowly opening and closing her eyes. She could feel a heavy weight on her bed and could hear soft humming. The man who was singing had a gorgeous voice, though she could tell that he hadn't used it for anything like a melody in quite some time. The roughness only heightened the sweetness and she smiled as she felt another braid come undone and she could feel his fingers brush through the strands, gentle and ever so careful so he wouldn't pull. The silence, besides the humming, was a comfort. She could fall back to sleep to it easily but she didn't want to. Another braid undone, another clinks of beads in the bowl and she couldn't get rid of the smile on her face. "I wasn't expecting to be woken up like this." She said softly, unwilling to disturb the peace. "You have a beautiful voice."

A startled laugh and Bucky felt his face heat up, "Were you pretending to be asleep?" he asked, but didn't stop his ministrations, "I suppose it's a good, thing, though, so I could finish getting the ones on the other side." He cleared his throat a bit, "The song...it's your song. I find it really soothing with a good rhythm."

"Not pretending, I was." Nyah hummed as she turned lazily so that he could get the other side. His skin, she realized, was calloused and gentle. His hands, though huge, were so fragile and delicate. Like he knew his own strength could crush someone like her. "I'm glad you could hear my song." She said after a moment. "You're starting to play a tune too. Guitar. Acoustic. Did you play before?"

"Yes, I did," Bucky was surprised, "I'm not sure if I could play it anymore. I stopped when I was in the army, and of course my skills were put to a different use. It would be fun to try, though, get back into it. Steve would be happy."

Nyah hummed softly as she lifted herself up just a bit so that she could let her head fall into his lap and climbed up a little to get a little more comfortable. The sheets were pushed and tangled now and she was clearly no longer all the way on the bed, now lying at an angle. She didn't care as she rested her cheek against his thigh, her eyes closed and her breathing still soft. "Listening to you play would be a treat." She said, her voice peaceful. "I am sorry for scaring you."

"Teresa explained to me about your heart and why you were so determined," Bucky said gently, "We will wait however long it takes for Teresa say you're okay before we do anything more. If that takes a week, then it takes a week. You're not going to die tomorrow. I won't let you, anyway. If Steve survived with a bad heart, then so can you. We're a lot more advanced and you stepped foot among our group, so now you can't leave even if you wanted to."

Nyah was a little surprised. Not at the wait, she had a feeling that she would be off the case for a while. But at the invitation. She was apart of something other than her tribe. Something bigger than it. She let her hand find his and squeezed it, her fingers curling weakly since she didn't have a lot of strength. "I don't plan on dying." She said after a moment. "Not when I found you, Kliech." She let his hand go and she turned herself over on her back, so she could stare up at him. His blue eyes reminded her of ocean waves, calmly going back and forth in a tide. "I never thought I'd meet my soulmate. Especially a white male." Her lips curved in a teasing smile.

"You just wouldn't fit in my life if you were normal, either," Bucky playfully poked her nose, "Steve and I have a sort of motto. If it's not reckless or strange it's just not our style."

"And which am I? Reckless or strange?" Nyah asked, grinning at the poke and she gently poked his cheek back before cradling it in her hand.

"Both. Definitely both," Buck nodded with a chuckle, "So...while you heal up, let's take the time to get to know each other? Mundane things, deep meaningful, personal things...I would like to understand your culture, so I can follow along when you make your gestures. The more you know about me, too, the more you'll figure things out to better help me. Right?"

Nyah smiled warmly. "I would like that." She let her hand go from his cheek. "I'd be bored otherwise. I'm a terrible bed-rest patient." She watched him for a moment and smiled softly. "Will you tell me something?" Before he could ask what it was, Nyah pressed on. "Where do you get "Bucky" from? I've been trying to figure it out, but you do not have an overbite and I don't see anything that would make you look like one."

"My middle name, really. Buchanan is a bit of a mouthful and I couldn't really pronounce it as a kid, and after Steve and I became friends, he couldn't either and he's the one who gave it to me. That was that. Bucky from then on out," he grinned.

Nyah wanted to groan. So many names. Teresa had two. Bucky had three, four, five. She rubbed her forehead. Really, what kind of custom was that? "Three names?" She asked after a moment. "What's the use of having /three/? Two, I get kind of. One of them changes when you marry. Teresa told me that, but...don't you ever get confused on which name to use?"

"The the two-three name custom is older than time itself, I swear, so I'm not the best person to ask," Buck laughed at her dismay, "Nyah Barnes doesn't sound too bad, though, if you can get used to the two-name idea at least." If she was his soulmate, thinking of her in an intimate way like that would help kick him in the balls to get in gear. Honestly, it sounded better out loud than in his head.

Nyah mouthed the words together. She never had a last name. Never had a temporary name. She looked at him curiously. "I thought there was a ceremony you had to go through in order to take a name? I think Teresa called it a...um...wedding?" The word felt strange on her tongue. "Marriage?"

"There's different ways to get married. I've head of handfasting, which might be more your style than a traditional one. I'd feel wrong going into a church anyhow. There's also an 'eloping' where you can get the paperwork and stuff without it being hyped up," Buck shrugged, "The getting to know you part is the courting, to see if we're compatible in a living situation and some people wait five years before getting married, or even as short as six months Shorter, even, but those are the /really/ rocky marriages that separate after a year or so."

"Courting I understand." Nyah smiled. "Even we do find our soulmates there are times where it's hard to come together as a family. I never been in a church, so I think I wouldn't feel comfortable bonding there. Handfasting...I heard of that too. It has similar things that we do." She laughed suddenly. "Eloping sounds like a less hassle, but it also sounds more like a business transaction as well."

"Kind of, and impersonal, rushed," Buck agreed, "Sometimes people in arranged marriages elope just to get out of it. Eh, anyway, I'm sure we'll be okay no matter what we do. You see my soul and love it, even if it's damaged. That to me tells me you're a keeper. We're bound to have fights, everyone has fights, but we will be able to get over it and move on because we understand each other."

Nyah watched him for the longest time and she gently brought one of his hands to mouth to give it a light kiss. "Fights yes." She said softly. "You and the Solider have a beautiful soul. I see your struggles to fight for what's right, to find peace within yourself. Neither one of you were meant for a fight. You were meant to protect." She let his hand go. "He doesn't know you exist."

Bucky blinked at her. "This is the first I've heard about what even happened while I was under," he frowned, "I can see, but I can't hear, when I'm in that state. I know my mouth moved, but I don't know what I said. How can I know that part of me is there when I'm like this, but I don't know when I'm like that?"

"The Solider is a subconscious. Not a personality." Nyah explained softly. "The Solider has no reason to know you. Not necessarily. He was made to follow missions, and you were a person that was in his way. The pass codes are memories you hold near and dear, memories that the Solider erased. When the subconscious and the conscious flipped, a lot of memories were destroyed for the Solider needed to know every mission, therefore memories that weren't helpful to him in any sense of the word were tossed. Erased. He knew only vaguely that he was using your body, and he knows of the memories, but he didn't know there was a person behind it all."

"Everyone else...separates them, but I think that it's just me," Bucky's brows were furrowed so deeply the skin between them folded, "Do you...know why? Should I really start separating them, too?" So that was why it was harder to remember some things, and easier in others. He...the Soldier thought that they weren't necessary, even if he held them dear.

"I think it depends on what you want." Nyah slowly got herself up into a sitting position. She nearly lurched forward, and had to grab Bucky's shoulder to steady herself so she could look him in the eye. "You could separate yourself from him, but that would make things easier for Hydra to take control of you. After all, they are looking for the Solider, not Bucky Barnes." Nyah had to pause for a moment, the name sounded...nice on her tongue. Maybe there really was a reason for two part names. "But the Solider thinks, and I agree with this, that you and him need to somehow come together. The pass codes are less of a worry."

"That seems to be something that needs to be accomplished on his end. I've tried to break the glass many times, but maybe it's weaker on the other side. If he can find me, reach me, I'll take his hand," he found himself startled by that. All this time he hated that side of himself, but maybe it was time to stop hating and start understanding. "This is a trial of me taking a lot of different people's hands, and I know deep down I'll come out of it a lot stronger. I need to associate the codes with good things, too. They freak me out because every time they echo in my head I do something bad. This last time I didn't, and that is such a huge relief I don't know how to explain it in words. Maybe...if Steve's comfortable after a couple tries normally, I'd like him to say them."

"I think Steve and I can do that." Nyah said with a smile. "And I think, that both sides of the glass is stronger when the other one is more apparent. That being said," she flopped down back to the bed, wincing a little since her body was still sore and she shouldn't have tried to get up. "I think you're on the right track. I think that your soul is repairing itself. Little by little the longer you're away from Hydra and out of Cryofreeze." She made a face before letting it disappear. "Though I'm sure nightmares are still going to be common regardless."

"That is why they are nightmares. I wouldn't be surprised," Bucky nodded, "I had plenty during my two years of solitude in hiding away from everyone and everything. Last night was a good night." He leaned down and kissed her forehead, "I am finished with your hair, anyhow. We can talk more later. You need to rest."

"Go." Nyah laughed as she closed her eyes to enjoy the sensation of his lips against her forehead and she looked up at him, adoringly. His song was filled with happiness and she was so incredibly happy to have heard his version for her. "Tell Steve that I'm going to make him jealous." She tried to half-heartedly shove him away from her bed. "Come see me tomorrow...and bring questions. I'm going to be stuck indoors and I will be pestering you with my own. Take care of yourself, A'maelamin."

"Right back at you...prekrasnyy," he winked at her as he paused at her door, enjoying her confused look as he ran away with a laugh.

"Crazy Russian!" She shouted after him.

()

There was a soft knock on Nyah's door and when she was given the okay, Kerica peeked her head in, "Hello! A certain brooding cat told me you were bored, and Teresa wasn't giving you permission to leave yet."

Nyah looked up from her writing, and smiled. Her color was coming back to her cheeks, but it was clear that she was nowhere near ready to get up and walking around. "Come in." She gestured Kerica to come in further. "I'm sorry for not greeting you properly and that you have to be here in the sick room."

"You're perfectly alright, I just wanted to drop by and check up on you. You scared the lot of us with how you collapsed and your nose was bleeding," Kerica frowned and came over, pulling up a chair to sit beside the bed.

"Scared me too." Nyah gently closed the book that was on her lap and set it on the bedside table. Her expression a mixture of sadness and just acceptance. "It happens. I wish I could say that it was a one time thing, but...well...anything can happen."

"If there was not much between you two before, there is definitely something now. Bucky was the most concerned, carrying you instead of my dad," Kerica shook her head, "You are so calm and indifferent about it. Something must be really wrong with your health for you to act this way."

"You mistake my indifference for something else." Nyah looked at Kerica and looked away. "I don't want to put in too much hope. He's starting to play a song for me. It's faint....barely there...but I get the feeling that he's learning to play louder." She paused, let out a sigh. "I'm dying."

"Is that definitive, as in you only have so many months to live? Or is that what you've begun to believe because of whatever your condition is?" Kerica asked, instead of immediately being shocked or upset, "Do you have cancer? Leukemia? Anything of that sort?"

"Not any of those." Nyah looked at Kerica. "It's my heart. It's small...and as I grow older it has to pump rapidly. It's getting to the point where I will start have to count down my time. It can give out on me in a moment's notice. I could have been on the brink today."

"To be honest, that would've been your own damn fault. After you gave me the words you could've tapped out," Kerica looked at her with a huff, "You don't have to count your days? Then your not dying. You're not dying until someone gives you a health report saying you're time is running short. Until then, you're alive. You'll go to sleep tonight, wake up, see Bucky's smug face smiling at you, and go to bed and do the same the next day. You got a small heart? So what? For helping Bucky, for helping Steve get Bucky better since T'Challa likes Steve, if you said to Teresa you wanted a heart transplant then damn it, she'd talk to Meara and Meara would talk to T'Challa and you'd get that heart transplant within a month. If you don't want to do that now, and you want to focus on him right now, that's fine, but don't dare him depressed all over again, /break/ him all over again, because you're dead set believing he's your last one. You're his fucking Mela 'en coiamin for crying out loud! Act like it!"

Nyah laughed. She couldn't help it. "Is that what you think dying is?" She looked at Kerica highly amused. "It's a possibility that I could get the transplant. It is an option. Teresa did tell me that this place was more medically advanced." She smiled thinly. "I refuse to lie to someone that holds my heart. He needed to know, so that he could be prepared for what's to come. He is my last patient, Kerica. At least until I make my decision. For if I just merely said he's just another patient, then I can be called away to heal someone else. Heal again. And again. Until I wouldn't have time to consider."

Kerica stared at her, silent for a whole minute before she opened her mouth, "The world won't end if you take breaks between each healing session. I don't want to hear you say you're dying again because I'll just slap you. I've been beginning to love Bucky, too, and Steve loves Bucky fiercely. If you hurt him because you work yourself to death trying to mend him, I won't forgive you. He's starting to play a song for you because he's starting to believe that you're for him, like you believe he's for you. I won't believe it, however, until I see you fight. I don't like that you're content and accepting of it. Steve didn't stop fighting when he had a shit ton more medical problems than you do, heart problems included. Why aren't you fighting?"

"Then I will keep my mouth shut around you and my truths unrevealed. I will give this; Bucky already beat you to that punch. Days, weeks, whatever is needed" She watched Kerica intently. "Your culture is so vastly different from mine. If you think that I'm not fighting, well...that is your assumption. I accept that I am dying, ah don't hit." She snapped. "I accept this. But imagine something for a moment. Do you think I'd be here if I wasn't? Why is your culture so afraid of death? What makes you waste your time? Why is everything in your world about fighting? Don't you ever get tired of holding the gun to your own head? I suppose, that is why we are different. You see death as something to fight. I see death as something to respect."

"Accepting isn't fighting," Kerica stood up sharply, chair wobbling but not falling over, glaring at her, "Accepting is like giving up. Say it's a culture difference, whatever, but if that's why you're loving Bucky so hard and fast, because you don't think you have much time, then that's a bullshit reason and you need to find a better one. I'm mad now, but I'll hate you if you make him love you back and then you die on him. That's cruel, and all your hard work would be undone because he'll be heartbroken and not even /Steve/ will be able to console him." She took that as her leave and smacked the door behind her.

~*~

Nyah hummed softly underneath her breath as she pulled the window curtains to the side and opened the window. While she might not be able to leave, she was going to make herself comfortable. She pushed her long hair out of her eyes, unable to find the strength or time to do it the way she wanted to. She could hear the door open and she smiled when she looked over her shoulder to see that it was Bucky that came in. She was thankful that she was wearing a night-dress rather than her blues or a hospital gown. She looked away and sighed, “Your soulmate has the best intentions. I don’t think we click the way you had hoped though.”

"Steve has been working on calming her down..." Bucky closed the door behind him with a soft click and walked over to her. His eyes looked her over thoroughly as he stared at her, his mouth going dry and his body hot. The shadow of her figure as she moved...she was very sexy. Shapely in all the right places, but smaller than her normal clothes would suggest. "You look lovely in green," he said in a way of soothing her, his hands on her shoulders and he nuzzled her temple, "How badly did she upset you, though?"

"I believe I upset her more than she upset me," Nyah admitted as she closed her eyes, enjoying his hold on his shoulders and how he pressed his nose against her hair. She leaned into him, bringing her arms up and around him in a hold. "It takes a lot to make me angry and hold it in a grudge. All she did was point out flaws. Things that she believed were flaws."

"She didn't tell us what happened, so would you enlighten me?" Bucky asked, looking down at her and his thumb stroked her cheek.

She hummed softly and gently guided him to the edge of the bed so that they could sit rather than just stay standing. She stayed by his side, resting her head against his shoulder and rubbed his knee with her hand. "We have a different point of view on death and what it is. She thinks that I'm in love with you so quickly because I'm dying. I suppose the saying "love at first sight" is dead and gone in your culture. That it can't happen." She shook her head. "I told her that I was dying and she wanted a time line. Is that how you measure death? A medical chart and shots? Not the number of breaths you struggle to take, knowing that a heart attack can end you at any given time? That a year could be a day? I don't understand. I also don't understand why my fighting must be obvious to the eye. My acceptance is cowardice, not honorable."

Buck pressed his lips into a thin line and he let a breath out through his nose. That made a lot of sense. He tried not to be distracted by the way she touched him, and looked up at the ceiling while he thought about the words to explain it so she would understand. "The term 'love at first sight' is a tricky thing to claim, take as it is and run with it," he decided to start with, "Yes, I would agree that it is dead and gone in my culture. We rely on knowledge of one another. We determine if we are compatible by our likes and dislikes, whether or not we can compromise on things, and our viewpoints. Saying you love someone on the spot...as I proved to you...can cause that person to real back and be put off by it, because love is earned, not freely given, because if you wear your heart on your sleeve it gets torn apart."

"The Atrum can soul-read as well as soul-heal." Nyah explained after a moment of thought. "I suppose that is why we can love without the knowledge you so crave. Everything to us, is mapped out. Songs and lyrics. Poems and stories are all at our fingertips." She smiled sadly. "It is a shame your society forces you to hide. We don't have time to hide, to lie. To pretend and to beat around the bush. There's no point in it...we must decide. Do we live with regrets or do we live with the full knowledge that everything we did and every choice we made we considered to be the right ones? Regrets...we can't afford them. So. We tell the truth. We love fiercely and with all our heart. Life is a song and dance we remember the lyrics to. Death...well...it's another world that we know we must go to. Now whether we go into it with honor or not, is another story."

"That must because of your lifestyle. How long do Atrum live generally?" Bucky had to ask.

"...You would be lucky if you reached fourty. The oldest at the moment is fifty and that is out of extreme luck." Nyah admitted. "We have more children than we do adults."

"See, now, we can live to be eighty, if not ninety," Bucky explained, "We have twice as long as you do, so we do not think about whether or not we have time because we have plenty of it. I know those who are certainly dying of a terminal disease or illness will live exactly like you do, or even those who don't really care or don't want to be old so they live to the extreme, hoping to go out in a blaze of glory. That is why Kerica said what she did about a timeline and medical charts."

"You are cockroaches." Nyah laughed. "Almost frightening. I knew she had a reason to start getting upset. It was a misunderstanding." She shook her head. "Am I still coming on too strong?"

"A little bit, but as you said, you hear a song from me starting to play," Buck smiled down at her tenderly, "I do have to agree with Kerica on one point at least. I understand your heart problems, but you're not dying unless Teresa tells me a timeline. As you linked my energy with yours, I can feel it, I want you to rely on me as much as I am relying on you right now. I won't let you down, prekrasnyy. Everyone tells me I'm resilient. I'm worse than a cockroach, and I'll make sure you live to see me healed and beyond. I refused to think Steve was going to die growing up, so why would you be any different? No, however. Your acceptance is not cowardice. Those I spoke of before also accept their deaths, but you are not terminal and you are not old. In your culture, you'd probably be having a mid-life crisis right about now, but in mine? You're young and spry and full of life and a future." He leaned down and kissed her cheek, "A future with me, even, if we work on whatever it is we got right here."

"A future with you sounds wonderful." Nyah wasn't going to try and fight him about the dying and timelines. No point. "But relying on each other..." She smiled for a moment and nodded her head. "Kerica reminded me that Teresa has options here. Of course, I already know a lot of them. But I would rather wait and work  on you and the Solider, before working on me. I'd be no help to you lying in a bed."

"No, and that is fine," Buck agreed, "I have a question now, if that is alright with you?"

"I want to know...do you know how to dance? Or were you...too sick to learn?" Bucky asked curiously, bringing her to stand with him, her little hands cupped in his big ones.

"I know a little of dance. It's a good way to connect to people and a way to learn how to keep your balance. Sword work and knife work requires good footwork and balance, so...dance." Nyah explained, her heart racing as she stood up in front of him. "You were a charmer to all the ladies I'm sure for knowing how." He positioned her, one hand taking hers, and the other wrapped around her waist.

"I haven't danced in a long time," Buck hummed, pulling her flush against his body, enjoying how hers lined against his just perfectly, "Allow me to brush up with you as my partner?" he asked in a purr.

Nyah's cheeks reddened and she felt herself get a little wet from the purr and the sly look on his face. "Maybe." She replied, winking. "I might have to ask for payment in kisses considering I wouldn't just do it for free."
"I can agree to that," Buck promised, taking a long step back and dragging her with him without any further ado, guiding her through whatever he felt like doing. Ballroom sweeps, waltz twirls, bending and teasing her with an /almost/ kiss only to pull away and spin her. She had a nice large open space in order for them to glide and step. A tune played in his mind that he must've heard a million times in the days past, and he let that be their guide.

Nyah laughed and followed his movements. She loved how he pressed her close, made her move and how his smile looked so carefree and so much pressure was off his shoulders. She enjoyed it when he would spin her around, making the small skirt of her nightgown pick up somewhat. He made her feel beautiful. Very close to royalty. When he would bring her to his back, pushing against her, she could practically melt in his arms and mourn when he would spin her away. He held her close, breathing in her scent and her breathing in his when they decided to sway together, close...tight. It was right then, in this moment, where Nyah could honestly say she fell harder for him. "I adore you."

"I am beginning to adore /you/ more and more, as well," Bucky told her honestly after a long moment of just them in silence in this romantic dance in the moonlight. "I used to sing, too, but I would have to find the right song to woo you with before I even tried to belt out a tune. Steve enjoyed when we'd sing hymns in church," he started when he remembered that, and then grinned. He would have to let Steve know he recalled something new, "We'd also go caroling in the wintertime." That was new, too. Steve will be bouncing off the walls.

"You have a good voice." Nyah smiled as he gave her a random spin and brought her close again. "When you find the song, I would love to hear it. I bet you singing on your guitar is a sight to be hold too."

He just let her face him for a time as they stepped around in circles, and he loved how her hair swirled around her body, framing her face, her eyes alight with her feelings. He brought them to a slow side-to-side and leaned his forehead down against hers, "You don't care about what you want, but I do. So, what do you /want/, prekrasnyy?"

Nyah could only stare. He was warm against her, solid. He looked at her with eyes that told a story. Determination, honesty, loyalty. This was a man who came from fire, forged by it, and was learning how to cool himself. The way he held her waist instinctively made her press against him. His low lullaby of a song was turning into something a little less sedated. Just for a moment, the world disappeared. She took a breath and she caught the scent of gun smoke, salt. A strong, heady scent that lingered on his body and it made her close her eyes. Breathe it in. Don't forget it. She opened her eyes and continued, finding the words. "I want you to be happy and safe. I...wish I was healthier. I want to give you...so much." Tears started to fall down her cheeks but she smiled through them, suffering silently. "I want you to be loved. To feel it. To know that it's etched so deep in to your soul, Hydra or anyone who tried to make you into the Solider couldn't take it away. I want you and Steve and Kerica to be happy because they are your soulmates." She swallowed and looked away from his face. "You strengthen my resolve. The longer I'm with you the more in love I become. The more I start thinking about..." she trailed off and took a shuddering breath. "You is all I want. You make me happy."

"Then start making what I want, what you want. I want you to live for me, with me," Buck gripped her hip, knowing he'd already suggested a life with him, but still, it did bother him, "Do you think you can do that for me?"

She reached up and cupped his cheek with her hand and leaned up to give him a kiss against his mouth. His lips were chapped, a little cool to the touch and his stubble was scratching at her face. She pulled away before he could respond. "I will. That and more."

"We should teach Steve how to dance..." the bright idea came to him, even as he was breathless, blinking wide eyes in wonder at her. He didn't let her reply, just dove his hand into her hair at the back of her neck and brought their lips together again. She'd been soft, but he was forceful, pressing deeply and angling his head for a more comfortable position, the arm around her waist tightening so she couldn't get away. Not that he believed she wanted to.

Nyah was shocked at the force that was behind the kiss, but it swept her up quickly. She wrapped her arms around him, clinging onto him like he suddenly threw her into a storm. Her hand that had been on his cheek was at the back of his neck, teasing at the strands of hair that was tangling themselves between her fingers. The other was also at his waist, moving to his back to pull him closer to her if it was possible. She wasn't sure who started what, but his tongue gently touched hers. It wasn't a passionate, lustful kiss, but one where both of them just let time pass them, let the world fade, and spin. It was a kiss where it was slow, getting the heart to beat a little faster, press a little closer. Adoring might have been a word they said, but this kiss..if any one of them was bold it say it, was filled with love.

()

A day later, Bucky was settled in the sniper's nest. He'd finished prepping and was just looking through the scope to try and find his first target. They were red paint balloons at varying distances with different obstacles, not to mention the weather currently outside. It was windy, and he liked the challenge of judging how to adjust so he'd still hit his goal. His body was tense still thinking about Kerica, since he hadn't found her anywhere yesterday and after dinner she went drinking with Scott so he didn't want to intrude on that, either.

Taking a breath, he found the first one about fifty yards away, and he adjusted and breathed deep, letting his mind go blank except for the calculations. as he went to pull the trigger, he jumped when it suddenly exploded.

What the hell? Had something flown by he didn't see and popped it? Shrugging, he moved to find the next one, at one hundred yards but hidden in a tree. He got this one easily, the paint spreading over the branches to be washed away by the next rain. There was a third at seventy he spotted by a rock, and this time when he hit it, it was one of those weird ones that the bullet passed through but all it did was spew like a fountain, the paint making odd patterns because of the wind. Loading to take another shot, he frowned when it exploded as soon as he looked through the scope. Well, damn. There had to be someone else here. Trying to beat them to the next one, he got a target at 150 yards, dangling off another tree tauntingly.

At two-hundred, he was beaten. A smaller one he snagged at two-hundred and thirty. It went on like this, almost every other one, until a target at five hundred, flapping around like a fish. He /saw/ the bullet from the other person whiz by it, and he took it. That was goal until they were replaced tomorrow, and he got out of his chair to go see who he had to work so hard against. It wasn't Hawkeye, unless he was extra bored he didn't want to use his arrows.

Going next door, he rapped on it and his eyes widened when he saw Kerica standing there as it opened, "Geezus, does Steve know you can shoot like that?!"

"He knows I dabble, but martial arts and pistols are my main. I can't carry around a sniper rifle with me, so I just practice at the range," Kerica beamed at him.

"I /have/ to tell him. That was pretty damn good. Hey, since we're out of targets, do you want to go train? There's still /plenty/ of time in the day," Buck offered.

"I have been wanting that, actually," Kerica nodded, "Let's go. Maybe we can put on a show for whoever else is there?" she smacked his arm playfully as they headed down the stairs.

"That sounds like an absolutely fantastic idea," Bucky snickered and before long they were kicking off their shoes and socks next to the blue matts on the ground in the training room. Wanda was there along with Steve, T'Challa, and Clint. The dojo doubled as an archery, and there were plenty of holes in the targets, all in the bulls-eye. Some of T'Challa's men were on the sidelines with ice-packs to their heads, so that was Wanda's doing. Steve and T'Challa were in front of a pitch black punching bag attached to a heavy-duty chain, and the blond looked absolutely giddy.

Bucky left Kerica to do her warm-ups as he jogged over to the lot of them, "Steve! Whatcha got there?! Oh my God, you will /not/ believe what just happened."

Steve stopped the conversation and looked over at Bucky, "Just a new punching bag that might be able to handle our weight and our punches without breaking the wall." He explained. "Though you look chipper. What happened?" He hadn't seen Bucky this hyper since before the war. It made him feel lighter and happier that his friend was able to emote so well. "I was going to spar but Wanda wiped the floor with everyone so, that's out."

"That's great! You've broken so many of those you have to have a world record," Bucky snickered, "Anyway, it's Kerica! I was just chillin' in the crow's nest and Kerica was almost able to out-pace me when sniping the balloons! I didn't even know it was her until we ran out of targets and I went to go see who it was. At first I thought it was Clint thinking he was bored with arrows."

"Me? Bored with arrows?" Clint sounded incredulous.

"Shut up, I know it was dumb thought," Bucky wrinkled his nose at him.

"You make me sound so awesome, Buck," Kerica's face was red.

"I didn't know you knew how to snipe." Steve blinked in surprise, looking at Kerica. "I know that you were a decent shot with the pistol. No where near as good as Nat though." If she could outsnipe Bucky, well...the Winter Solider was going to have a hard time trying to attack Kerica. Which made him feel both better and worse. He didn't want the Solider to think of her as a target. He'd rather have that branded on himself. "That /is/ awesome. Take the credit." He smiled warmly at her.

"I can't lug a sniper rifle around, at least the ones these days, or I'd practice more and offer that cover fire," Kerica explained, her chest swelling with pride, "Bucky must be the sniping version of Hawkeye then, if you're so surprised?"

"I covered that man's glorious ass back in the war, yeah I'm a damn good shot," Bucky put his hands on his hips, beaming.

T'Challa, who'd been listening and watching with high amusement, now looked intrigued, "You are going to spar with someone who could easily outmatch you?"

"Well...Steve's always holds back too much so I stopped asking him, it wasn't challenging enough," Kerica dropped the bomb.

"Ow. Steve, she called you boring," Clint drawled.

"I hear a challenge in that." Her silent approach made everyone turn sharply towards the voice. Nyah was dressed in her customary blue garb and mask, on her back was a spear strapped and a few daggers well placed. Steve knew there were more hidden in her garments. "Will I suffice as a sparring partner for you Steve? It may be she's not much of a challenge for you."

Steve was pretty certain there was a cat fight going on. He was also pretty certain, judging from the look on Kerica's face, that there was something /real/ deep going on in this challenge. "She's a pretty good challenge." He said after a moment. "I tend not to know my own strength sometimes."

“Then do you mind by chance if I took you on?” Nyah offered.

Steve looked at his friends, knowing that they would probably just continue talking. Nyah seemed to be content in either letting Bucky and Kerica go first, but at the same time it was probably best to get themselves out of the way. He had been looking for a sparring partner before Wanda knocked them all out. “Sure.” He smiled at Kerica and Bucky. “Wish me luck.” He told them as he went to the mat with Nyah, kicking off his shoes. "So...in your culture, how do we begin a spar?"

“Cross you arm like this,” Nyah lifted her right arm in a diagonal position like she was going to go for a quick karate chop. “And touch my forearm with yours.” Steve repeated the gesture and he got close to her, touching their arms together. It only took a second before they leapt away from one another like it had burned them.

Steve and Nyah circled around each other, trying to determine who would make the first move. Steve was the one who decided he had enough and went forward to hit her. Nyah brought both arms together in a block, and the moment that she did that, Steve had assumed she would go backwards.

Instead she continued forwards and slammed her elbows into his shoulder. He punched her in the side just as she was trying to hammer fist him near his neck. They both broke apart, feeling the other’s blow and damn Steve never had someone hammer fist him /that/ hard before as Captain America. It /hurt/. However, there was no time to rest. Nyah came back on him and Steve blocked her attack.

If someone were to describe the fight, it would be described as alleyway street fighting. It was dirty and bloody and looking for the quickest way to end it. Steve was good at the rough and tumble, but mostly because he didn’t have a choice since he was beaten up so damn quickly without a way to defend himself. Nyah was suffering bruises and he could see her mask turning dark with blood from how often Steve went for her face. He had to hold back /some/ otherwise he’d shatter her jaw.

Steve on the other hand wasn’t looking like a picnic either. His bruises faded the moment they came, but there were times where Nyah’s nails caught his skin and /ripped/. His face might be clear of a lot of blood and damage since Nyah didn’t dare go for his face, his height too much of a disadvantage for her to even try, but if he had asthma or any type of chest pain or even a weak stomach, he would be done for. His feet were also starting to get sore from how often she’d stamp on it.

“You’re good.” Steve said as he blocked a punch that she was tossing, grabbing her wrists and was about to try to pin her down on the ground and force her to give up the fight.

“Don’t compliment too quickly.” Nyah retorted, dropping her shoulder and grazing Steve’s knuckles with his own hold. It forced him to let go that much quickly because ouch.

Steve backed away, but Nyah was on him again, tossing another jab at his chest. He kicked her foot from underneath her and she fell sharply on her back. He pinned her down and it became a game of not who can get hurt, but who could escape. Nyah was definitely not allowing herself to be captured, wiggling and attacking. Steve managed to hold on, changing positions every once in a while to make her pinned. Soon enough, Nyah knew to give up and she tapped the floor three times. He got off of her and watched her get up.

Nyah was looking at him, blood in her mouth and nose. Steve winced, but she waved it off, the corners of her eyes twinkling. “You didn’t break anything.” She assured. “I bleed easily as I bruise. You’re very talented.”

“You had me on the ropes.” Steve said after a moment.

Nyah closed her eyes and nodded her head, swallowing. Steve carefully helped her into a sitting position before he helped her stand. She caught her bearings and she looked at him. She let her arm back out in the diagonal and Steve looked at it wearily. “I’m not going a second round with you.”

“To say we’re done.” Nyah replied with laugh. “You start and end with this. I’m too tired for a second round. Though I wish I wasn’t. You made sparring fun.”

Steve looked at her and repeated the gesture. He watched her limp over to her weapons, kneel and cough loudly. He walked over and knelt down helping her gather her weapons. “Nyah…”

“I’m fine,” She assured as she took her weapons and strapped them on to herself. “To be honest, I pushed myself just a tiny bit in fighting you. You don’t give ground. I did tell you not to hold back.”

Steve closed his mouth and Nyah stood up. She took off her mask, and he could see a split lip, a horrible bruise on her jawline, and he was certain that if she opened her mouth, blood would just spill. he was quite certain he managed to knock a tooth loose at the very least.

“You fight like I fight. It’s nice.” Nyah said with a smile. “It’s a shame I can’t go longer with you.” Bitterness. “I would have liked to know what your limit was..or is.”

“Do you fight hand to hand often?” Steve asked curiously as they walked off the mat. Nyah sat down on the sidelines and started to rub her ankles and wrists.

“No.” Nyah looked at Steve in the eye. “We don’t play with our victims the way some people do. It brings a bad taste in our mouths.” She looked at the spear in her hand. “I should be feeling a little ashamed. But at the same time I can’t help but to feel proud.” She smiled suddenly, blood dripping from the corner of her mouth. “I…fought you with everything that I had. But I’m certain that if this was a different type of spar…we would see another outcome.”

Steve couldn’t help but to wonder what she meant by that. He went off to get the first aid kit that was on the wall and started helping her with the blood. It wasn’t severe, thankfully. He managed to hold back a lot of his strengths. However, he still felt a little worried. He couldn’t help it. Probably because this was Bucky’s girl.