Chapter Text
Bucharest, Romania, 2014
The snow on the ground indicated that winter was here, which meant the holidays were quickly approaching. The streets were set up with wreaths and garlands, and bright-colored lights littered the city. If the cold weather wasn’t enough to inform us, the posters on the lampposts were sure to let everyone know of the festivities soon to come.
Christmas time was here…
How could I forget my least favorite time of year?
I couldn’t even if I tried.
“Hazel?” A warm and welcoming voice brought me out of my sour mood. I stopped my brooding out at the city below and turned to give all my attention to my steely-eyed soldier.
My Bucky.
“It’s freezing out here,” he said, coming to wrap a fleece blanket around me. “What are you doing out here?”
I forced a smile, peeling myself off the fire escape to join him back inside. The warmth from our tiny apartment was a comfort, along with the steaming hot mug of coffee Bucky handed me.
“Thank you.”
“You okay?” Bucky asked.
I nodded my head, taking a small sip of my drink before walking away from him to sit on the couch.
“Your silence says otherwise,” he said, watching me from the kitchenette. He turned the radio on a low volume just as the croony voice of Bing Crosby began to sing ‘It’s The Most Wonderful Time of the
Year.’ “Oh.”
“This song is a lie,” I grumbled into my mug.
“I know,” Bucky sighed before taking a seat beside me. “It doesn’t have to be, though.”
“How’s that?”
“Well,” Bucky stopped mid-sentence to plant a soft kiss on my cheek. “For starters, this is the first Christmas we get to spend together. So, we have that to think about.”
I tried to fight the smile making its way to my face as he continued.
“And I got you a present,” he said. “So, there’s that.”
“You did?”
“I did.”
“What is it?” I said eagerly.
Bucky rolled his eyes at my impatience before handing me a small, red leather box. I looked up at him curiously, to which he only smiled as he told me to open it. Inside the box revealed a small plan band
woven in an infinity hoop.
“Oh, Bucky,” I gasped.
“I said I’d get you a ring one day,” he said with a grin. “I’m a few decades late, but I figured it was the thought that counts.”
“It’s beautiful,” I said with tears in my eyes, blurring my vision. He helped me put it on, taking my left hand and sliding the band onto my ring finger. “But now I feel guilty.”
“Why?”
“I feel my gift is going to be severely underwhelming.”
“You got me a gift?”
“Of course I did,” I told him. “I may not like the holidays, Bucky, but I’m not a total Grinch.”
I got up from the couch, leaving him to stare at me as I dug through the closet near the front door to find the small trinket I had gotten a few days ago from the market.
“Here,” I plopped back onto the couch, handing him the small present. It was poorly wrapped in newspaper; I wasn’t a gift wrapper by any means, but it was meant to be ripped open, right? So I wasn’t any bit concerned by the conditions of the wrapping. Bucky didn’t take the present immediately, even as I tried handing it to him. “Take the present, James.”
“You didn’t have to get me anything,” he said, eyeing the gift and myself with excitement and skepticism. “What is it?”
“You have to open it to find out,” I told him.
He took the gift, unwrapping it in seconds until his face sobered. Under the newspaper was a plain faux leatherbound notebook. It was primarily blank, aside from the first few pages of thoughts and notes written in my hand.
Written about Bucky.
“When Steve brought me back to Washington, he showed me a notebook, like this one, that he had. It had a list of things he wanted to learn about or see, things he’d missed while being frozen,” I explained. “He got me a similar one, and I started journaling in it when my nightmares started. I thought maybe it could help with yours as it did mine.”
I sighed, placing a hand on Bucky’s knee.
“I know it’s not as grand as a ring, but-”
“I love it,” Bucky interjected.
“Oh.”
He started to read the first few pages. His face contorted into a range of emotions as he read what I had written. I wrote about how he remembered how I took my coffee in the mornings and about our dance in the middle of the apartment to our song. I wrote about the locket being one of the first things he had remembered and how relieved I had felt that he hadn’t forgotten me completely. There was also a passage about how I liked his long hair and the growing beard, as opposed to how his hair was shaved down and with a clean face when we first met. Most importantly, I wrote about how terrified I was of The Winter Soldier, but the risk of being with him again was well worth getting Bucky back, even if it was only a fraction of the man I fell in love with decades ago.
“Happy Christmas, Bucky.”
“Merry Christmas, Hazel.”
*****
I awoke abruptly to bright fluorescent lights above me in a strange place resembling a hospital room. The walls and furniture were white and monochromatic, making my eyes hurt even more as they adjusted. I shot out of bed in a frenzy as the monitor above me beeped wildly to match my racing heart rate. I couldn’t remember where I was or how I’d gotten there right away, and that only made me more frantic.
The glass door to my room hissed as it slid open, revealing an unfamiliar face and making me more irritated and uneasy.
“Oh, you’re awake,” a woman with a thick South-African accent gasped, seeing me out of bed. “Let me go get the princess.”
"N-no," I stuttered, trying to stop her from leaving. “Wait!”
Before I could interject, the doors closed behind the woman, leaving me alone in the room again. I started to feel overwhelmed, staring at the door that refused to open for me as I neared it, suddenly feeling trapped in this foreign place.
Based on the woman’s accent, I could guess I was still in Wakanda, which was a good sign. I tried to think back to the last thing I remembered: seeing Steve’s face before the cryotank I stood in closed.
Before that, I remembered we had traveled to Wakanda after fighting Tony Stark, the Iron Man in Siberia…
When I went toward the door, it opened back up to reveal the princess of Wakanda and her older brother, the King, plus two members of his Dora Milaje, one donning gold jewelry and embellishments to her ornate uniform and the other silver.
“It’s about time!” The young princess exclaimed. “I was beginning to worry that you would be comatose forever.”
She was typing away on a tablet, looking at the monitor and then at myself before my voice made her look back up at me.
“Where’s Bucky?”
“He’s fine,” she said nonchalantly. “Do you prefer Doctor Grace or Miss? You know what? We’ll figure that out later.”
I went to open my mouth to get her attention, but it was useless. T’Challa could see my obvious discomfort and attempted to get his excited sister’s attention.
“Your vitals look really good,” she said, returning to typing on her tablet. “Brain activity is normal, and your motor skills look to function fine, seeing as you’re upright.”
She was examining me without letting me get a word in, and it started to anger me.
“Shuri!” She halted, taking a moment to read the room, looking at her older brother as he spoke. “Perhaps we should give the woman a moment to process her surroundings?”
“Right,” Shuri took a deep breath before apologizing to me. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I said, finally releasing the breath I was subconsciously holding.
“You must have questions,” T’Challa addressed me.
I nodded to him, still uncomfortable to speak to him.
T’Challa and his Dora kept their distance, waiting by the door while Shuri was up close and in my personal space, checking my temperature and moving my body around to see if I was stiff until she went to touch my head. I jerked my head away, making the Dora react by pointing their spears at me, but T’Challa motioned for them to be at ease.
They trusted me as far as they could throw me.
Though, I’m sure the Black Panther could throw me pretty far.
I was starting to think maybe the Dora Milaje could, too.
“Sorry, I just want to check the stitches,” she said.
Stitches?
What, you thought I could solve your mind control without getting my hands in there?” She asked sarcastically. “I mean, not literally my hands, but… you know what I mean.”
“Did you do it?” I asked in a faint whisper.
“I did,” Shuri said with a massive grin on her face.
“How do you feel?” T’Challa asked.
“Okay,” I said with a nod. “I feel… my head is quiet. I haven’t felt that in a long time.”
The Dora with the gold adornments and red tattoo on her skull said something quietly to T’Challa in another language I didn’t understand. T’Challa replied in the same tone before telling them to wait outside the door.
“Good,” T’Challa said before putting his hands behind his back.
“How long?” I asked.
“About nine months,” Shuri said. “It would have been sooner, but we had a… minor setback.”
“What kind of setback?” I asked, getting nervous again.
“Some family issues,” Shuri said. "Unexpected reunions and typical family drama..."
“Nothing that you need concern yourself with,” T’Challa interjected, giving Shuri a stern look.
“Is Bucky okay?” I asked, causing the siblings to share a grin.
“Come,” T’Challa said, motioning to the door. “He is waiting for you.”
The door hissed open again as I followed T’Challa and Shuri out and to the main center of the Medical Bay, where the cryotanks were kept. There were people everywhere, and though most were doctors or scientists on Shuri’s research team, I couldn’t help but notice the guards posted at each door and wondered if they were there as a formality or just in case Bucky and I reacted poorly to our deprogramming.
My heart skipped a beat once I saw Bucky sitting on a table, being examined by another doctor. His eyes found mine, and my feet led me straight to him without another thought until I stood at his side. I tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear before pressing my forehead against his, and the doctor took the moment to speak with Shuri and T’Challa, giving us a moment alone.
“Hi,” I said breathlessly.
“Hi,” Bucky responded, wrapping his arm around me. He was still missing his left arm, but it didn’t bother him. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said. “Are you?”
“Yeah,” he said quietly. He kissed my hair, and I melted into his embrace. Our private moment was over when Bucky looked up and sighed. “Did it work?”
“If my algorithm was correct- which it was- then yes,” Shuri said confidently. Her face fell when her soft dark eyes found my own. “However, there was not much I could do to recover your missing memories, Doctor Grace. Too much damage was done to your hippocampus from the intense electroconvulsive therapy done to you. I’m afraid that not even your super-soldier abilities will be able to heal it over time. I am sorry.”
Well, it was worth a shot.
“But Bucky has all of his memories, right?” I asked, trying to sound hopeful.
“As far as I can tell,” she answered, sensing my disappointment. “You know, as well as I, that not everyone’s brain functions the same. Your brain’s response to the severe trauma you’ve faced is its way of protecting you.”
“Stupid brain,” I cursed quietly to myself. Only Bucky could hear me, and I could feel him chuckle under his breath. “I appreciate you trying.”
“Of course,” she smiled apologetically.
“We can never repay you for what you’ve done,” Bucky said. “We owe you our lives for doing this for us.”
“It was my pleasure,” Shuri said before she excused herself, leaving Bucky and I with T’Challa and his Dora Milaje.
T’Challa’s demeanor changed with the absence of his younger sibling as his face fell into a stoic frown. He looked deep in thought as we all stood in silence, and my hand found Bucky’s, weaving his fingers with mine to keep me from nervously popping my knuckles.
“What is it?” Bucky asked for both of us.
“You have missed much since you have been asleep. The issue with the Sokovia Accords has become more pressing since our public dispute in Germany,” T’Challa answered. “They are calling for your immediate arrest.”
That made Bucky and I stiffen up, and we were waiting for the Dora to take us away.
“This is not my intention,” T’Challa said calmly, seeing our reaction. “The two of you will be safe here.”
“But that also means we can’t leave,” I sighed.
We weren’t free. We had simply traded Romania for Wakanda.
“That is correct.”
“What about our friends?” I asked. “What happened to them?”
“Clint Barton and Scott Lang accepted plea bargains and are currently on house arrest,” he said. “They are home with their families.”
That brought comfort to me, knowing they were safe and at home.
“And the others?”
“They, along with Miss Romanoff, have escaped the likes of the Joint Counter Terrorism Centre, for now,” he answered. “It would seem that someone aided them in their escape.”
T’Challa made a point to look directly at me when mentioning someone helping those we left behind in Germany escape from prison.
Steve…
“And what of Captain Rogers?” I asked formally, hiding the fact that T’Challa and I knew exactly who helped them with their escape. “Have you heard from Steve at all?”
“He has not made contact since your arrival.”
My face fell into a disappointed frown that I didn't even attempt to hide.
Oh.
“And the doctor?” Bucky asked. “Zemo, what became of him?”
“He is currently being imprisoned on The Raft until he is to be tried in Germany.”
I scoffed, folding my arms over my chest.
“You are disappointed in this news, Doctor Grace?”
“While I’m pleased to know he is rotting in a cell, I think he deserves a worse fate,” I explained. “He’s to blame for everything.”
“I do not disagree with you,” T’Challa said. “He has much to answer for, but for now, it is out of our hands.”
“Kufuneka aphendule ngobugwenxa bakhe apha,” the Dora with silver adornments said to her counterpart.
“Mind yourself, Ayo,” T’Challa warned.
She bowed her head and stayed silent, though I saw the two women exchange a smirk.
“So, what happens now?”
The three Wakandans each shared a look amongst themselves, leaving Bucky and I in the dark.
“Shall we bring them to their hut, My King?” The other Dora spoke.
“Hut?” Bucky and I asked in unison. Bucky looked over at me. "Did she say hut?"
I shrugged.
“A wonderful notion, Okoye,” T’Challa said to her before he turned back to Bucky and I. “Come. There is much to show you.”
We followed the three of them out of the medical center and into the central city toward an aircraft that looked like a boat hovering over the ground. Soon enough, we were zooming through the center of
the city and out past the surrounding neighborhoods to the outer villages. There were only a few huts among the vast grasslands and more livestock than I knew what to do with.
I had never lived outside of a city, and the only jungle I knew was one made of concrete.
This was a whole new type of adventure.
The hovercraft soon stopped at a small, isolated hut about a mile outside the main village we had passed. The land was lush and green, with the jungle just behind us and a lake that the sunlight bounced off of. Our only neighbors were a few stray goats that were roaming the grass.
I grabbed at Bucky’s hand, and he held it tight, squeezing it. He and I were thinking the same thing.
Home.
T’Challa and Ayo were the first to leave the craft, while Okoye stayed behind. Bucky jumped off the vehicle before extending his hand to me as I exited the vehicle. I looked back at Okoye, who gave me a soft smile and a nod, encouraging us to follow her monarch.
“This hut is yours to stay in,” T’Challa said with a proud smile. “And the goats are yours, as well.”
"Goats?" Bucky asked.
“What are we supposed to do with goats?” I asked quietly.
The two women stifled giggles between them as T’Challa hid his smile before giving us a small tour of our new living space.
“Ayo will be the one to test to see if my sister was successful in deprogramming your minds,” he said before stopping and placing his hands behind his back.
I stole a quick glance at the woman, whose face was like stone. She showed no emotion as T’Challa spoke and held no fear in her task. I wasn’t sure whether or not I was fearful of her or for her.
Either way, I was uncomfortable.
“What if she wasn’t?” Bucky asked, seeing my nervous face. “What if it’s still there?”
“Ayo will be the one to test to see if my sister was successful in deprogramming your minds,” he said before stopping and placing his hands behind his back.
I stole a quick glance at the woman, whose face was like stone. She showed no emotion as T’Challa spoke and held no fear in her task. I wasn’t sure whether or not I was fearful of her or for her.
Either way, I was uncomfortable.
“What if she wasn’t?” Bucky asked, seeing my nervous face. “What if it’s still there?”
A collective sigh was felt through us all.
I squeezed Bucky’s hand, and he looked down to see what I felt was hope lingering in my eyes.
“We’ll cross that bridge if we get there,” I said to him. “For now, we hope for the best.”
We shared a smile between us before giving T’Challa and Ayo our attention back.
“I will be back at nightfall,” Ayo said calmly. Her face softened as she observed Bucky and I overlooking our new home.
‘Home,’ the word still seemed so foreign to me…
T’Challa bowed slightly to us before he and Ayo turned to leave, returning to their hovercraft.
“T’Challa!” I called, running over to them before they could leave. I noticed Ayo and Okoye gripping their spears tight as I approached and T’Challa subtly having them lower their guard. “Thank you.”
His smile was warm and kind like I was seeing the sunlight for the first time. It was the first time I saw him genuinely smile in the short time I had known him.
“You’re welcome,” he said.
“We can’t repay you,” I said to him. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
T’Challa slowly inhaled, closing his eyes for a brief moment before his dark eyes found mine.
“The time will come when I will ask for something from the both of you,” he said, almost as a warning but keeping his calm and warm demeanor. “For now, rest, and enjoy your new home.”
I thanked him again before turning back to see Bucky waiting for me. As T’Challa and his Dora Milaje zoomed off toward the Capitol, I sprinted back to Bucky. The brightest smile gleamed on my face as I leaped into his arm. He caught me with ease as he spun us around to keep his balance, as I took his face in my hands, planting a soft kiss on his lips and tasting the sweetness of his mouth on mine.
Bucky set me down and slid his hand into mine as we turned to look at the small clay hut before us, and he and I thought the same thing together.
‘Home…’