James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
make_it_hurt) wrote2023-08-24 08:32 pm
make_it_hurt) wrote2023-08-24 08:32 pm
Closed to [Aliit_be_tad]
He honestly hadn't been expecting the invite back to Wakanda. After everything, he figured there wasn't a place for him anymore. He'd been allowed to be there in the first place because of T'Challa, and then there had been Thanos, and the blip, and then--- Well. He hadn't been waiting for an invitation.
But Shuri had extended one to him anyways. He had finished all his mandated therapy, had made his "amends", had done everything needed to keep him out of a prison cell the rest of his life (and he would have done almost anything to not end up back in a box), and she had turned up at his apartment. His small, underfurnished apartment. And he had just... agreed. He didn't have anywhere else to go. Sam was busy being Captain America, and he was honestly tired of being the sidekick for a while.
Packing took him only minutes, he hadn't yet gotten out of the habit of being ready to pick up and go within seconds, and then they were on their way.
The children in the village were older now, but they still knew him. They showed him the offspring of his goats, gave him back his walking stick, and Shuri had left him there.
It was nice. He could go days without thinking to check his phone, rising and sleeping with the sun, spending long hours sitting on the hillside. Nightmares came, but they also went. There was nothing around him to make them stick, no blaring car horns or flickering street lamps. There was, occasionally, the buzz of jets going overhead, but they were infrequent, this was a calm place of the country with little traffic.
Of course, it couldn't last. It never lasted.
Three months into restful nights and tiring days, he was startled out of his daydreaming by the loud, unfamiliar roar of an engine overhead. It was flying very low, and looked like no plane or jet he had seen before in Wakanda. Was it even Wakandan? It didn't look like it should have been able to fly.
Bucky stood, shading his eyes from the sun. The jet was losing altitude quickly, and the goats were bleating in panic. He whistled to send the village's herding dog after them before they ran into the bush and got lost, then turned to one of the children that had run after the noise. "Get inside," he told her. "Tell everybody to bring the animals in. I'll check it out."
It might be a new jet from another country still wanting to try to claim Wakanda for itself. Or it could be an alien, apparently those were getting more and more common all the time. Either way, he was the only one around equipped to handle it. Any military could arrive quickly, but he was here.
Bucky started off at a jog down the hill in the direction of the sleek metal ship, herding stick in hand.
But Shuri had extended one to him anyways. He had finished all his mandated therapy, had made his "amends", had done everything needed to keep him out of a prison cell the rest of his life (and he would have done almost anything to not end up back in a box), and she had turned up at his apartment. His small, underfurnished apartment. And he had just... agreed. He didn't have anywhere else to go. Sam was busy being Captain America, and he was honestly tired of being the sidekick for a while.
Packing took him only minutes, he hadn't yet gotten out of the habit of being ready to pick up and go within seconds, and then they were on their way.
The children in the village were older now, but they still knew him. They showed him the offspring of his goats, gave him back his walking stick, and Shuri had left him there.
It was nice. He could go days without thinking to check his phone, rising and sleeping with the sun, spending long hours sitting on the hillside. Nightmares came, but they also went. There was nothing around him to make them stick, no blaring car horns or flickering street lamps. There was, occasionally, the buzz of jets going overhead, but they were infrequent, this was a calm place of the country with little traffic.
Of course, it couldn't last. It never lasted.
Three months into restful nights and tiring days, he was startled out of his daydreaming by the loud, unfamiliar roar of an engine overhead. It was flying very low, and looked like no plane or jet he had seen before in Wakanda. Was it even Wakandan? It didn't look like it should have been able to fly.
Bucky stood, shading his eyes from the sun. The jet was losing altitude quickly, and the goats were bleating in panic. He whistled to send the village's herding dog after them before they ran into the bush and got lost, then turned to one of the children that had run after the noise. "Get inside," he told her. "Tell everybody to bring the animals in. I'll check it out."
It might be a new jet from another country still wanting to try to claim Wakanda for itself. Or it could be an alien, apparently those were getting more and more common all the time. Either way, he was the only one around equipped to handle it. Any military could arrive quickly, but he was here.
Bucky started off at a jog down the hill in the direction of the sleek metal ship, herding stick in hand.
no subject
He could see it, could see Bucky couldn’t understand why he couldn’t remove his helmet— that hurt more than the injuries that were throbbing in his head and body. Din could see the medics closing in, inching towards him like he was a caged animal.
Bucky was trying to tell him he had a head injury— which he’d figured that much out already. But even with his husband standing there, trying to calm him, he couldn’t let them remove his helmet. Not after everything he had gone through for his redemption.
Din held up his hand towards the approaching medics, a signal to stop. Miraculously, they stopped hesitantly, strange equipment still in hand. He blinked to try to clear his vision, focusing as best as he could.
“You— all of you,” Din gestured around the room at the medics. “Leave.” He made little walking motions with two fingers. Then he gently tapped a finger to Bucky’s chest, visor still locked on the strangers. “Bucky. Stays.” He pointed down. “Everyone leaves. Bucky stays.” He repeated with the same hand gestures.
no subject
Bucky looked over to Shuri. "I'm medic trained. I can at least see if he has a concussion or we need to do more."
It was probably better to not push things too far too fast. If the space knight didn't want to take off his helmet around others, then they just had to work around that.
Besides, the only other option was to sedate him - and he was an alien, who knew if it would even work on him - or just force it, and Bucky knew he wasn't unarmed.
He looked back to Shuri. "If he decides to be violent, I can take care of myself. And if I can't, you're here." She was still dressed in the sleek Black Panther suit - it made her look thin and fragile, but he knew she was like steel underneath.
Or rather, like vibranium.