Closed to [Aliit_be_tad]

[make_it_hurt]

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.

Comments

[make_it_hurt]

Bucky felt the space knight lean against him just a little while he and Shuri talked, his hand coming up unconsciously to brace him. The vibranium under his hand was body-warm and smooth. Then he pulled away. That visor of his was unreadable, but Griot was still displaying his vitals. He needed medical care of some kind. But how to convince him to come with them?

Bucky turned to the space knight, ready to start playing the world's most elaborate game of charades, when he unholstered his gun again. Not like he was going to use it, but from the top - where the slide would be on a non-laser gun, and then it was being offered out to him, grip first. Looking into the space knight's visor, he took the gun with a nod.

Then, he looked down at it. It kind of looked like an older model pistol, the kind his father would have used, if his father would have ever been able to afford a pistol. There was nowhere obvious for a magazine to go, but the gun seemed well-maintained. Tapping his left thumb against it made it clear it, at least, wasn't also made of vibranium.

"We should get back," Bucky finally said to Shuri, head lifting, holding the gun pointed down and away - the trigger was pretty obvious, but it was better to be safe than sorry. "He needs medical attention, right Griot?"

Shuri nodded after a moment, still looking down at the odd pair in front of her. "Very well. We'll send a team to collect his ship." Then she turned and strode back up the ramp. Okoye waited for her to be fully on board before she, too, spoke up.

"I hope you are right about him, White Wolf."

Bucky didn't know if he was right. He didn't know anything, except that a man from who knew where apparently knew him. Knew him well enough to call him Bucky. Not Soldier, or Asset, or Barnes, but Bucky. "I hope so too," he told her, then looked back at, apparently, his alien. Then he gestured with his head towards the ship, left hand outstretched to give support if he needed it.

[aliit_be_tad]

Walking onto an unfamiliar ship, surrounded by strangers who he couldn’t understand, with his… amnesiac riduur to worry about was not what Din would call a positive turn in today’s events— but so far no one had tried to kill him yet, so he was going to have to take what he could get.

As tempting as it was to take Bucky’s hand, for any amount of closeness, Din just grit his teeth and did his best to ignore whatever injuries were begging for attention. He’d have to see to it eventually, but it was still too soon to let his guard down enough to tend to it. For now he followed the strangers onto the ship, barely concealing his limp. He half-expected Bucky to chide him for his stubbornness, but quickly dismissed the thought.

The build of ship wasn’t what he was used to, fewer manual switches and controls and more sleek, smooth surfaces that activated at the strangers’ touch. He might not understand much of the controls, but he’d been in enough ships his entire life to piece together simple controls as he tried to subtly watch them at the controls— especially when it came to the controls to closing (and, assumedly, opening) the hatch. It was always good to have an escape route, just in case.

He kept standing, even as the shorter (younger?) of the two women gestured for him to take a seat (probably), turning to ensure Bucky boarded before the hatch shut. He wasn’t going anywhere without him, but any concerns he had vanished as the man followed after him and the hatch shut behind them.

As much as he tried to keep an eye on the strangers and how they controlled the ship as they started the engines (what kind of engines were those? He hadn’t heard any that sounded like that before), he found his attention focused on his husband. Looking in vain for clues of what could have happened to him, how he could have come to be there— and the one thought he had tried not thinking about since he first spotted Bucky… where were Vel and Grogu.

The ship lifted from the ground, catching Din unguarded in a moment of distraction (and likely partial head injury) and he immediately regretted his decision to keep on his feet. It was nowhere as turbulent as a lift off as he might have expected, but it was enough to make his already unsteady stance that much more unstable. His head reeled with that familiar I’ve been knocked in the head one too many times feeling, hand flying out to try to brace himself on the nearest surface to keep him from falling flat on his face for the second time in one day.

[make_it_hurt]

Bucky kept his eyes on the space knight as they all got onto Shuri's ship. He stayed back a step or two, behind the man, noting his apparent interest in the control panel, and then on the hatch as it closed.

He might not be an assassin anymore, but he knew somebody scouting out an escape route when he saw it.

He stayed standing as the ship lifted off, and found himself reaching out to support the alien as he wobbled on his feet, left hand catching the man's arm as he reached out in return, steadying him upright. He should probably be sitting, especially after that crash landing, but Bucky also couldn't begrudge him wanting to stand when surrounded by strangers he couldn't understand.

Luckily, the trip back to the capital city was fast and when they landed in the hangar, there were fewer Dora Milaje outside than he would have expected. There were also several medics, which was good for the injured space knight.

Bucky waited for the ship to land before holding out the knight's gun to Okoye. "I think you should hold this."

She took it with a look for him, inspecting it in much the same way he had. It looked incongruous in her hand. It looked wrong, even. But it was better for her to have it than him.

[aliit_be_tad]

Din grasped Bucky’s arm as the man steadied him without even a thought of hesitation, like it was second nature. He shut his eyes, lowering his head and trying to will his head to stop spinning. He bit back a small groan, fingers curling around the beskar arm steadying him, the metal a familiar and comforting feeling. For a long moment he stayed like that until he felt the flooring steady under his feet and the wave of dizziness pass enough for him to push aside again.

It was the last thing he wanted, but he made himself release Bucky’s arm and draw back from him. He gave a short nod to him, pulling himself together again. He wasn’t sure how long it’d be before he couldn’t force himself to stay upright, but he wasn’t ready to strip out of enough armor to use the few emergency bacta sprays he had on whatever injuries he had.

Thankfully, the ride to the city went quickly, all the while Din still stubbornly stayed on his feet. Honestly, he was a little worried if he sat down he wouldn’t have been able to get up again. The HUD in his helmet was still on the fritz, but he knew until he could manage to get it off and get a proper look at it there was nothing he could do about it— just another thing on a growing list of things he could do nothing about right now.

As the view of the city came into view, he could have mistaken it for one of the core planets at first glance, but he had enough experience in enough sectors of the galaxy to know not to base expectations on appearances. Some of the most hostile planets he’d had to hunt on had been the very picture of what core worlds saw as civilized, while safety was more found in the barren outer rim.

He watched his blaster move from Bucky to one of the strangers, helmet moving visibly to track it. He didn’t like it, but there wasn’t much he could do about it if he wanted help or answers. It wasn’t the only weapon he was carrying, but it was the most obvious. If he was lucky, maybe they thought he’d given up his only weapon.

There were people approaching the ship, several of which were making a straight line for him. Din turned his head a little towards Bucky while keeping his eyes on the new crowd of strangers, ready to take his cue from his husband. They didn’t seem hostile, but without understanding the language… this was going to be a pain.

“We need to get him onto a gurney until we know the full extent of his injuries,” One of the strangers approaching him were saying, not that he could understand a karking word of it.

One of them manipulated some sort of control on their wrist and a long, flat board-like thing that he hadn’t noticed before hovered up from the ground and followed them to him. They were talking again, gesturing to the board, like they were trying to tell him to— oh. He recognized what that was, at least the concept of it.

“No, I can walk on my own.” He said flatly, before remembering they likely couldn’t understand him either. He made a waving gesture, shaking his head, and taking a step back from the insistent— medics? Probably medics, judging by how they were trying to both gently and insistently guide him to the gurney. He’d been put on one of those before and strapped down for his own safety. That hadn’t gone well for anyone involved, he wasn’t about to try to recreate that on a planet that didn’t even speak Basic.

“No,” Din said slowly, firmly, taking a step back. He put a hand to his chest, “I.” He gestured a little walking motion with his two fingers, “Can. Walk.”

Whether or not he actually could walk far enough to wherever they were going was debatable, but he wasn’t getting on that thing if he could help it.

[make_it_hurt]

Bucky carefully stepped partially between the medics and the alien, ready to mediate if necessary. "I think he can walk," he told the medics while giving them a sympathetic glance.

The alien seemed to agree with him, saying something first, and then repeating it, but more slowly. He put his hand on his chest with a word, and then two more while making the universal gesture for walking. So he definitely agreed that he could walk.

"I'll support him if he needs it. If he falls over, we can put him on the stretcher." Bucky knew a lot of the medics and doctors, from his own time healing here. He trusted them fully. He also didn't want to put them in danger by them trying to make an unknown entity do something he didn't want to do. So far, they hadn't seen evidence of enhanced abilities, but it was unlikely he had given up his only weapon.

He looked back at the alien. "If you," he started, pointing to the alien, "are in too much pain," He touched his head, "We can stop." He held out his hand palm-out then pointed down.

Then, he offered his arm for support. "I'll help you," he told the man, trying to keep his tone calm. "I trust them." He pointed to the medics, then touched his arm. "They helped me too." It was hard to convey 'they fixed the brainwashing that turned me into an assassin that killed hundreds of people over seventy years' but a prosthetic, vibranium arm was probably easier to understand.

[aliit_be_tad]

Din watched as Bucky spoke with the strangers, bracing against the way his gut wrenched seeing so many others seeing his riduur's face. So many seeing him like this was no different than the few that had already seen him— or the countless others before Din crashed on this rock. But that didn’t change the way it made him feel.

He took in a slow, deep breath to steady himself, and reminded himself of the redemption he himself found in the Living Waters.

Bucky was talking again, this time to him, with some hand gestures thrown in to help with the language barrier. He watched him silently, focusing on the gestures and Bucky’s mannerisms to parse out what he was trying to communicate. He was trying to reassure Din (maybe), probably telling him the medics were there to help him— that.. they had done something with his arm? Had they repaired it? He couldn’t imagine Bucky letting anyone outside the Barnes clan touch his arm, but then again he couldn’t imagine Bucky out of his armor while surrounded by outsiders.

Din let out a heavy sigh that he felt to his core, just loud enough for the vocoder to pick up.

The medics seemed unhappy, but reluctantly accepted that Din wasn't getting on the gurney. He took Bucky’s offered arm and leaned more of his weight on it than it looked like. He had let Bucky take his weight after enough fights and rough sparring matches to know how much the man could comfortably hold. The sooner Din could patch himself up, the better.

[make_it_hurt]

He got a sigh from the space knight. Well, it was better than a a freakout, at least. Bucky walked slowly with the knight towards the hangar bay and the elevators going up into the main bulk of the building that in another place could be considered a palace. But it wasn't really. It was more than that. Throne room yes, but also a high tech lab, and - maybe most importantly in this case - an equally high tech medical center.

Bucky barely had to compensate for the knight's weight on his arm - and he was leaning quite heavily on him. He wasn't having trouble moving, but when they were pressed side by side, the other man's injuries were more apparent. It was probably a very good thing he was wearing a full suit of vibranium or he might not have had a choice about the stretcher.

Together, they follow the medics - and the gurney is still very close by, just in case - and Shuri and Okoye follow them, along with the few members of the Dora Milaje that had met them.

Luckily, though, the elevators were close, and large enough to fit all of them, though it was close. Bucky carefully laid his hand over the one tucked around his arm to steady the knight. The bare vibranium under his palm was warm, the edges smooth.

[aliit_be_tad]

Din was beginning to think he was going to actually make it to wherever Bucky was taking him on his own two feet. He even made it as far as the turbolift. There was the smallest hesitation before he made himself enter, all too aware of the tight quarters and too many possible threats. It had been a long time since he'd had to fight in a lift, and he wasn't looking forward to the possibility of it again-- but Bucky's hand was closing on top of his arm. He couldn't feel the warmth through his beskar, but he knew it was there.

It was enough to keep him moving forward, into the lift, shoulder to shoulder with too many people.

As the lift clicks by floors, he breathes out long, slow breaths, the sort you'd ease out as you pull a trigger. It was hard to focus, even with the adrenaline pounding in his ears. Without realizing it, he was slowly leaning more visibly onto Bucky. His braced stance inching down against his riduur.

The turbolift door opened, everyone filing out with obvious relief that Din was completely deaf to. He managed to get two and a half steps before his legs gave out from under him.

Din let out a strained sound, black quickly creeping into his vision as faces turned quickly towards him. There was talking, quick and urgent, and he had a feeling he wouldn't have been able to make any of it out even if it was in Basic. The world was spinning and it was all he could do to just keep one hand on Bucky's arm, keep him in reach.

Dank fucking farrick.

[make_it_hurt]

Bucky shifted his stance as the knight started to lean more and more on him as they made their way up into the tower. He would have liked to get the man's arm over his shoulders, but there wasn't enough room in the elevator - they were packed in almost as tightly as sardines.

Even when they came to a stop on the medical floor, he didn't move to get out immediately. They were going to need the gurney.

There was another one waiting at the top, but not even halfway there, the knight's legs gave out from under him and Bucky was left holding him up with only his left arm.

"Fuck," he hissed, right hand moving from a vibranium-covered hand to grip the fabric near his collar - the only bit of clear grab he could make.

His legs had completely lost their strength and he was heavy. Bucky couldn't haul him to the gurney like this.

Instead, he dropped his shoulder and lifted his arm at the same time, turning into the space knight. It didn't have to be pretty, it just had to be effective enough to be secure as he lifted the man and his full suit of armor off the ground, the metal plates pressing hard into his flesh shoulder.

Bucky grunted with the exertion. "Which bed," he asked, and the medical team hurried to one of the triage bays, Bucky following with his burden not quite slung over his shoulder.

It was definitely not pretty, getting the alien onto the closest bed, but at least he wasn't on the floor.

[aliit_be_tad]

Din groaned, the familiar sensation of Bucky chucking him over his shoulder. He could already hear the chastising coming— only it didn’t. He heard Bucky swear some alien curse, but beyond that everything just started melding together. Not even his stubbornness could keep him conscious right now.

“Put him on this one,” Shuri said, walking ahead with the medical team. There was a flurry of activity, the medical team trying to help Bucky as best as they could— but with that full plate armor of Vibranium, it wasn’t an easy task.

Din was in and out, only catching fragments of what was going on. The only thing he knew was that Bucky was nearby, within arm’s reach. It was enough to keep him from fighting the helping hands too much as they tried to arrange him on the table.

“Griot, does he need the helmet to breathe? We need it off so we can see how bad that head wound is.” Shuri said.

“It doesn’t appear so. There isn’t an airtight seal around the bottom, and I’m unable to detect any unusual gases emitting from it.”

“Alright, let’s get it off then. Have a look at our alien.”

A hand grasped the edge of his helmet. Bucky was nearby, was it Bucky?

He could feel his helmet shifting—

Din’s gloved hand snapped up to grab onto the wrist trying to remove his helmet.

“No!” Din ground out, squeezing to make his point across, trying to force his mind to cooperate.

“We’re trying to help you. We aren’t going to hurt you— why am I even bothering, he doesn’t understand a word I’m saying. Bucky, he trusts you, maybe you can—?” Shuri was saying, struggling not to hurt the space knight.

“Let go,” Din said, trying to tug the hand free of his helmet. She released his helmet and stepped back, hands up in a universal peace offering, or surrender, looking over at Bucky.

[make_it_hurt]

Bucky moved into the place Shuri had vacated. He had thought the alien was mostly unconscious - he had, after all, done nothing to keep from being a sack of potatoes either while being carried or while being dumped almost roughly onto the bed.

But as soon as Shuri had reached for his helmet, his hand had jerked up, closing around her wrist with a clear protest.

He stepped up close to the knight and took his hand. "Hey. They're just trying to help you. You have a head injury." Talking wouldn't do much, but if he could calm down the alien, they could get to work. He reached up with his other hand to touch the side of his helmet, where the ridged piece that was roughly where a human ear would be was scraped up and damaged.

He made sure to stay in the line of sight of the dark visor, though his attention was turned towards the medics and doctors moving towards them with all kinds of equipment.

[aliit_be_tad]

This was not going well.

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.

[make_it_hurt]

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.