Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The sunset in Wakanda was colourful. Made of yellows, reds, pinks, and the faintest hues of purples.

It was –

“Beautiful," Bucky suddenly blurted out. The word was foreign to his tongue, and he mouthed the word again, feeling the way the word took shape in his lips. Beautiful.

“What was that?”

Bucky blinked, turning to the side.

Shuri was standing beside him, eyes bright with what Bucky would call ‘the spark of youthful innocence’ - the same one he remembered seeing in small Steve back then. It felt like an eternity ago.

The young princess flashed a small smile when she met his gaze, impossibly genuine, and it made Bucky wonder exactly how much she actually knew about him, about the things he’d done.

He turned back to face the horizon, gently fisting his hand into the blades of grass nestled underneath him. They were prickly, but more a comfort than a nuisance. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt something this soft; all he could remember for the longest time was metal, all cold and sharp edges.

“It’s beautiful,” Bucky repeated. The word still felt strange, like it didn’t have a place at all on his lips.

“It is,” Shuri said, humming a little. “The second…no third best thing about Wakanda after vibranium and malva pudding.”

A smile tugged at Bucky’s lips, but he said nothing else and resumed staring out into the sky.

Slowly and gradually, the colours morphed from a deep red to a dark indigo.

Shuri let him watch in silence, never once interrupting or making a sound, something which Bucky appreciated very much.

It was only until there was the barest tinge of yellow in the distance – the very last trace of daylight disappearing – did Shuri finally break the peaceful silence.

“We should go.”

Bucky nodded, staring out for a final few seconds before getting back up. He readjusted his balance with a step to the side once he was up, still a little unused to the lack of weight on his left side. Shuri must have noticed, for she said:

“I’m still working on it. A prototype arm.”

Bucky could only stare at her. He hadn’t even mentioned his arm once since he was awakened from cryostasis, never asked for one either, and yet-

“If you want it of course,” Shuri quickly added.

Bucky didn’t know what to say, and nodded once after a long pause.

Shuri beamed at him, still as genuine as ever, and then they started to make their way back down.

Dinner was eaten later with Shuri, Ramonda and T’Challa (who was able to find time to join them for once).

The Dora Milaje stood at the doors, stern and unmoving as always, holding their spears up high. Bucky quickly looked away before he was considered rude, and instead focused his attention on his plate of food, some kind of rice dish with fish.

The food was delicious, lightly salted, flavoured with numerous spices he couldn’t identify. Steve would probably like this, the thought suddenly came to mind, he did enjoy fish after all. Bucky took another mouthful, flavour exploding in his mouth. He promptly decided that it was better than anything he’s ever tasted. Or remembered tasting. Bucky shuddered at the thought and quickly shook it away.

“Sergeant Barnes, how do you like the food?” T’Challa casually asked, halfway into the meal.

“Bucky,” he immediately corrected, and then added, “it’s good.”

T’Challa smiled, polite. It was just a courtesy, Bucky knew. The king barely smiled on a daily basis, and jokes were basically foreign to him – so very unlike his little sister who smiled and laughed at the smallest thing.

“How was your day?”

“Good.”

“Are you comfortable here?”

A nod.

“Is there anything else you need?”

A shake.

The king smiled yet again, completely unfazed by the one-word answers. Bucky wasn’t one for much talk, and T’Challa diverted his attention to his sister and mother instead, asking about their day.

The three talked, and Bucky slowly worked his way through the rice and fish, taking care not to make too much noise with his cutlery.

Dinner was over soon enough, and T’Challa stood up and excused himself, needing to return to his kingly duties.

Bucky expected T’Challa to walk straight to the door and leave, but he suddenly halted behind him, and stopped for a long enough time to let Bucky know that it was intentional.

Bucky looked up, immediately meeting the king’s eyes. They appeared cold at first glance, but Bucky could see glimmers of warmth and compassion hidden behind them.

A hand reached out – the motion slow and remaining in Bucky’s line of sight at all times - and rested on Bucky’s shoulder.

“If you need anything at all, please do not hesitate to ask,” T’Challa said gently. “I want you to feel comfortable here. Safe.”

Bucky blinked once, trying to formulate an appropriate response. It’s only been a week since he was taken out of cryostasis and told that the HYDRA trigger words were officially gone. (They had tested it just to be sure, and he had to fight so hard not to reach out and strangle the person saying those dreaded words even though they no longer had any effect.) Everything still felt…foreign, like he was constantly in this dream-like state, and words still didn’t come very easily to him. At all.

“I’m…well,” he tried. “It’s good here.”

Then he stopped, and swallowed. Eventually, he settled for:

“Thank you.”

Bucky tried to smile - he didn’t know if it came out right – but T’Challa smiled right back, so he supposed it must have worked to some extent.

The hand at his shoulder squeezed lightly.

“Well if you ever feel bored, you can always head to the lab. I’m sure Shuri wouldn’t mind the company. Quite the contrary actually.”

Bucky nodded and watched as T’Challa left through the doors, the Dora Milaje following behind dutifully.

Bucky took the advice, and found himself standing outside the lab after dinner, but still a little hesitant to actually enter.

T’Challa may have given him his permission, but he didn’t actually consult Shuri herself if he would be welcome. And maybe – the thought snuck by like a traitorous wisp of smoke - being near very dangerous and very lethal vibranium weapons wouldn’t be such a fantastic idea after all. If anything happened-

And then the doors suddenly slid open, revealing the young princess standing there dressed in white.

She looked Bucky over, and then raised an eyebrow.

“Are you just going to stand there white boy?” Shuri asked, faintly amused.

The young princess grinned, beckoning him in. Bucky followed, keeping his footsteps light.

The lab was massive and so unlike anything Bucky had ever seen. Wakanda was described to him as technologically advanced, perhaps centuries ahead of the rest of the world, and upon seeing the lab, Bucky could immediately understand why.

There were holographic screens all over, floating 3D models, and a variety of out-of-the-world gadgets littered all over the place. Crates of vibranium were scattered all over the room, each one probably worth millions – or billions.

Bucky continued to roam around, taking in every detail, while Shuri promptly sat back down on a chair and resumed her work on some kind of vibranium gauntlet.

“Try not to touch anything? Most things here are just prototypes. Completely untested, more likely to explode and stuff.”

Bucky nodded, his eyes finally sliding up from the trinkets lying around to giant glass window at the front, opening up into a large cavern deep underground. Unlike the mostly flawless lab, the window had giant cracks in it - which Bucky supposed was lingering damage from the major coup Shuri had told him about the other day. A maze of train tracks joined one area of the cave to another, and every once in a few seconds, a levitating train zoomed past, filled with crates of glowing vibranium.

“It’s incredible,” he offered, the first words he’s spoken to her since entering.

“Maglev trains - magnetic levitation. Fast, efficient,” Shuri explained without looking up, still concentrating on her gauntlets.

Bucky watched as she carefully picked up a small piece of vibranium and slotted it into an open pocket of the gauntlet. She did the same for another identical gauntlet, before sighing and pushing both gauntlets to the side, fiddling with the floating holographic screen above.

A prototype of a limb appeared, and Bucky stared at it in amazement as Shuri clicked something to blow it up and appear directly in front of Bucky, floating just inches from his face.

The design had such smooth neon blue lines, each metal component connecting together and curving over artificial muscle flawlessly. It was a work of art, and it actually looked like a part of the body, not a clunky weapon disguised as one.

“Guess what I call it.”

She didn’t even wait for Bucky’s reply.

“An arm.”

A long pause.

“Get it? Because it’s an arm, and also an arm, you know, like a weapon-”

Bucky blinked at her a few times.

“-Urgh. You’re just like my brother. Nevermind.” Shuri coughed once, before asking, “so what do you think?”

Bucky tentatively reached out to touch it. He touched air of course, but the hologram reacted to his touch nonetheless, tilting over to reveal the back view of the limb.

“It’s beautiful.”

Shuri clicked something else, and the arm rotated, demonstrating movement at the elbow, wrist and fingers.

“It’ll be made of vibranium of course, lighter, and much stronger than your previous arm.”

Another click, and the outer metal shell dissolved to reveal the inner wiring. Nerves. Muscle. A small part flashed red, demanding attention.

Shuri sighed at that.

“There are still some kinks in the nervous connections, but I’ll fix that up soon enough.”

Bucky nodded, and Shuri pressed a button, making the hologram disappear and reappear back onto the screen above the table.

“Thank you,” Bucky said. Those two words came to him the easiest these days.

Shuri smiled.

“No worries at all.” She waved it off, and then brought up another screen, poking at it.

“Anyway, since you’re already here, I’ll just do some scans for your arm. We’ll need to make it identical. Well, not completely identical of course, I don’t see how you can function with two right arms,” Shuri finished with a laugh.

Bucky nodded once again and made no protest when Shuri came up to him with some kind of handheld scanner, asking him to bend his right arm in various positions as she took different scans.

“So…do you have any colour preferences?”

“What?”

“Colour. For the arm.”

Bucky hadn’t even thought about that before, but he considered it for a moment before shaking his head.

“Metal is fine.”

“Really? I can make it any colour you want though.”

Bucky shook his head.

“Except black. I refuse to colour it such a dull and boring colour,” Shuri huffed, and added more quietly, “like my brother.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Bucky’s lips as he shook his head again.

“Metal is fine.”

Shuri shrugged.

“Well if you say so. If you ever change your mi-”

Just then, the door slid open, and both of them turned around.

T’Challa walked in, smiling a little when he noticed Bucky there. He walked straight to Shuri, pulling out a small metal orb from his pocket and offering it out.

“Ah finally.” Shuri picked it up and inspected it. “Took you long enough.”

“I was busy,” T’Challa returned flatly.

Shuri simply snorted and rolled her eyes.

“How did it work?”

“Great.”

“And the suit?”

“Working fine.”

Shuri gave T’Challa a look.

“Fine is not good enough. Give it to me, I have some improvements to make.”

T’Challa shot back an unimpressed look, but relented and took off the thin metal necklace around his neck to hand over to Shuri.

“Great.” Shuri clapped her hands together with the necklace in between before promptly waving T’Challa away. “Okay now you’ve fulfilled your purpose, you can leave now.”

The typically serious mask on T’Challa’s face temporarily vanished to make way for something soft and fond.

“That any way to talk to your king?” T’Challa joked. “I’ll have you arrested for your impudence.”

“I’ll turn your suit pink.”

“Rude.” T’Challa snorted once and smiled at Bucky before making his way towards the exit.

“Hot pink!” Shuri shouted after him.

“Black!” T’Challa retorted back, just as the doors closed.

Shuri rolled her eyes and turned to face Bucky, who had been standing there watching everything the whole time.

“See what I mean? Dull and boring.”

This time, Bucky allowed himself to smile.

Chapter Text

Bucky woke up to the sight of three children staring at him. Again.

And once again, at the very moment he opened his eyes, the children squealed and immediately made a run for it, screaming something in Xhosa (the same words every morning) and dashing out of the hut.

Bucky sighed, pushing himself back up and standing. He couldn’t remember any of his dreams, but he must have dreamt of something, for there was a thin layer of sweat over his body, and his pulse was hard and fast. No point thinking about it though. Not remembering it was probably for the better anyway.

He took a minute to compose himself, and upon hearing a sudden outburst of cheerful laughter outside, he finally decided to step outside.

Shuri was already there waiting for him.

She always accompanied Bucky for breakfast every morning, and it was something he slowly grew to enjoy and look forward to. There was something weirdly pleasant about it, doing something as simple and mundane as eating with somebody, and even though he was hardly good company himself, Shuri never seemed to mind. Sometimes even T’Challa was there with her, but not often – the king didn’t always have the time to do so.

The princess hadn’t noticed him yet, still laughing and playing with the children while speaking in the local language. Bucky didn’t understand it of course – he only knew one word in Xhosa: ‘stupid’, because Shuri often said it to her brother and it was all too easy to deduce what that meant.

One of the children laughed and pointed at him, saying those same words (which Bucky knew referred to him, but what exactly it meant, he didn’t know), and Shuri looked up.

“Good morning Ser- Bucky.”

“Good morning.”

The children said those same words again before darting away, and Shuri refocused her attention on Bucky, smiling.

“How are you?”

“Good.”

“Ready for breakfast?”

“Sure.”

They made their way towards the dining hall, with Shuri making small talk and Bucky giving mostly one-word answers. It never seemed to bother her; it never bothered T’Challa either (who wasn’t very talkative himself). Sometimes he tried to make small talk back, but he couldn’t quite find anything to talk about, so that usually ended quickly.

Breakfast was simple, just bread rolls and tea, and halfway through drinking his tea, Bucky finally decided to ask:

“What do they call me?”

“Hm?” Shuri barely looked up from her bread rolls.

“The children.”

Shuri stopped chewing for a moment, and looked up. She considered Bucky for a moment, eyebrows raising in a particular way that only ever happened when she was with her brother.

Then she said with the straightest face Bucky had ever seen,

“Pirate man.”

Bucky stared at her for a moment.

“Huh.”

A few days later, it was T’Challa that came to take him for breakfast instead of Shuri, which was a rarity.

None of the Dora Milaje that usually accompanied him everywhere were there, which was probably a conscious decision on the king’s part.

The children were still calling him that same name which T’Challa seemed mildly amused by, and Bucky watched as T’Challa conversed with them in Xhosa, his eyes warm and inviting.

“Good morning Sergeant Barnes.”

Bucky blinked at the rank. T’Challa wasn’t absent-minded in the slightest, and Bucky had tried multiple times to get him to call him ‘Bucky’ but the king just seemed hell bent on keeping up formalities.

“Good morning your majesty.”

T’Challa’s lips dipped a little.

“T’Challa,” the king corrected rather firmly.

“Bucky,” he returned, equally firm.

T’Challa stared at Bucky for a long moment before huffing and flashing a small smile.

“Fair enough.” He shrugged, before explaining, “Shuri can’t join us today, she’s away at the moment – she’ll be back tomorrow I expect.”

Bucky nodded. He did remember Shuri telling him that yesterday, something about ‘teaching colonisers about vibranium tech’.

They made their way to the dining hall as per usual, not conversing at all unlike with Shuri, but the silence never felt awkward, more companionable than awkward in fact.

Breakfast was a plain porridge with simple side dishes that Bucky couldn’t quite identify, but nothing tasted revulsive, so he ate everything without complaint.

“What’s ‘pirate’ in Xhosa?” He suddenly decided to ask.

T’Challa raised an eyebrow, but said something in flavoured in that particular accent Bucky had learnt to recognise as Xhosa.

“*Pirate*”

It sounded nothing like what the children call him, which only confirmed Bucky’s suspicions.

“Huh.”

A pause.

“What do the children call me?”

“White wolf,” T’Challa replied easily.

“Oh.”

Another pause.

“Why the sudden questions?”

“It’s nothing.”

T’Challa considered him for a moment, but shrugged it off easily and resumed eating.

A few days later, he woke up to see the same three children again, screaming and giggling. Bucky smiled a little at that, watching the children disappear outside, shouting his name.

Bucky once again couldn’t remember any of his dreams, but he wasn’t covered in sweat like most days, so he assumed it must have been a tolerable dream.

This time, both T’Challa and Shuri were waiting outside for him, which was a pleasant surprise. The two siblings smiled upon seeing him.

Then Shuri’s eyes suddenly flickered to Bucky’s hair, and she let out a loud laugh. T’Challa too grinned, and Bucky frowned, brushing through his hair.

His fingers touched something apart from the strands of hair, something soft and almost wet, and he pulled it free, blinking a few times when he realised he was holding a single pink flower that was previously tangled in his hair.

“Flower boy,” Shuri giggled, and then suddenly smirked, “*white wolf.*” She burst out laughing again.

The princess looked entirely too smug of herself, and Bucky just continued to stare at her, decidedly not saying a word.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” T’Challa finally broke in. “We’ll be late.”

Shuri nodded, although she couldn’t seem to stop laughing all the way to the dining hall.

It was only when breakfast was served did Shuri finally calm down, and Bucky waited exactly halfway into the meal when the small talk between the siblings finally faded before turning to Shuri.

She looked up at him questioningly, something smug reappearing in her eyes.

“*Stupid Pirate*.”

It took a while for Shuri to process it, and when it finally hit her, she gaped, her fork falling to the floor with a clang in shock. T’Challa’s own fork halted halfway towards his mouth, eyes flickering between the both of them curiously.

“I- Wha-”

Bucky couldn’t help but smirk a little, just the barest lift of his lips. Seconds passed, and then Shuri gave the most childish pout Bucky had ever seen coming from her, spouting something in Xhosa that definitely wasn’t a compliment.

T’Challa obviously noticed his sister’s misery, and despite not knowing the context or circumstance of the situation, his expression transformed into pure amusement.

“Aw, did my dear little sister try to bully him?” He teased.

Shuri flushed instantly, which made T’Challa smirk.

“I did not!” She protested. “Well, not exactly!”

T’Challa’s smirk widened, and Shuri flushed even more before finally exploding.

“You stupid brother! This is all your fault!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“*White wolf*” Shuri snapped impatiently. “You told him what it meant. Traitor!”

The king raised an eyebrow, the pieces slowly falling into place for him.

“You told him-”

It clicked, and T’Challa suddenly just burst out laughing, making everyone in the room jump in shock (even Bucky).

“Urgh! I hate you.”

T’Challa just continued to laugh, a full blown laugh, shoulders shaking and back bent forwards. Even the Dora Milaje standing at the doors were fighting a smile. Shuri then turned her glare on Bucky, who was innocently buttering up his last bread roll.

It continued for some time, with no signs of calming down, until Shuri finally decided she had had enough. She stuffed the last bite of bread into her mouth.

“You two are the worst!” She said before storming away, doors slamming shut. Bucky watched her go, still amused, and resumed eating his bread.

And now it was T’Challa’s turn to laugh continuously with no signs of stopping.

He calmed down eventually of course, although he couldn’t quite seem to stop grinning. He turned to face Bucky, smiling once again.

“You know, she wouldn’t do that, if she didn’t really like you.”

Bucky shrugged.

“…I had siblings. Before,” Bucky said.

T’Challa’s amused smile immediately turned cautious. Bucky never ever talked about his past. “…A younger sister?”

Bucky nodded.

“She was a lot like her, like Shuri.”

“A handful, you mean.”

Bucky didn’t stop the faint smile that tugged at his lips.

“Absolutely.”

Shuri definitely didn’t appreciate T’Challa calling her a ‘stupid pirate’ constantly for the next week or so. The girl was smart, genius in fact, and if there was one thing a genius hated more than anything else, it was getting outsmarted.

Chapter Text

Bucky enjoyed Wakanda. It was calm, peaceful, and nobody looked at him like he was a threat, or a weapon, or anyone close to intimidating. They just looked at him like he was him, a person.

He couldn’t say he missed being back out in the world, but he certainly missed one thing.

Steve.

Bucky hadn’t seen him since the day he was put into the cryostasis.

He’d talked to Steve for a bit of course, a few calls here and there since he was cured, but the conversations were awkward, and ridiculously polite.

It mostly consisted of ‘hi’, ‘how are you’, ‘have you eaten’ and ‘stay safe’, with long silences in between, neither of them willing to say anything and neither of them wanting to hang up either.

There was just something about the lack of physical presence that made Bucky unable to find anything to say to Steve, and vice versa.

He never once asked Steve to come back, not because he didn’t want him to, but because he knew Steve would do it in a heartbeat, and Bucky couldn’t quite bring himself to drag Steve away from whatever mission he was currently engaged in, from the people that needed him.

So Bucky spent most of his time with Shuri in her lab. It took his mind off things, and he enjoyed listening to her talk about her inventions, a different one every day. He understood little of it, but he still liked seeing her so passionate about inventing.

Today though, seemed to be the day dedicated to Bucky’s new arm. Shuri already had the designs blown up in the air when Bucky came in, and she waved at him once before focusing on the arm.

Bucky studied the design from the side, curious.

It looked slightly different from the initial design Shuri showed him, the shape was bigger, more life-like, looking exactly like a perfect mirror image of his right arm.

“The nervous connections are still not quite right,” Shuri lamented. “The sensory innervations work perfectly fine, but the motor innervations…” She trailed off, pulling off a metal plate from the arm in the hologram and staring within.

Bucky didn’t interrupt her, simply content with sitting down and watching her do her work.

Shuri modified the nerves slightly, and ran another simulation on it. The movement looked better than before, but Shuri was still frowning. She tried again.

Hours passed like this, before Shuri finally looked up at Bucky.

“Isn’t this boring for you?”

Bucky shook his head.

“You’re one weird white boy.”

He shrugged.

“Are you sure you don’t want to do something else?”

Bucky shook his head again. There wasn’t anything for him to do anyway.

“Huh, okay then.”

They took a break for lunch after a while, and while walking back to the lab, Shuri suddenly let out a laugh, making Bucky look back at her questioningly.

“Sorry, I just remembered something funny.”

And then Shuri brightened up.

“Well actually, do you want to see it? “

Shuri bounded back to him and thrust out her wrist, pressing on one of her Kimoyo beads.

“Look.”

A holographic screen popped up. It was some kind of recording, casually taken. T’Challa appeared in the frame, with his classic furrowed eyebrows and thin-lipped expression.

It was in Shuri’s lab.

T’Challa was standing before some kind of mannequin that was dressed in the black panther suit, faintly glimmering in neon purple.

“You’re recording?” The king raised an eyebrow.

The camera shook a bit.

“For research purposes.” Shuri’s voice was nonchalant.

Bucky could see T’Challa visibly sigh, before turning to face the mannequin again.

A high kick was aimed at the abdomen, delivered in a flash. Upon impact, a sudden explosion of purple energy flung T’Challa back, sending him reeling across the room. A loud laugh was heard – Shuri’s laugh – and T’Challa immediately shot a betrayed look at the camera, petulant almost, so very unlike that kingly demeanour he tended to present himself with.

“Delete that footage!” T’Challa snapped, and Shuri merely laughed even harder, before the recording ended.

Shuri burst out laughing again, tapping her Kimoyo bracelet to turn off the hologram.

“It never gets old,” She giggled, and Bucky smiled a little in response.

He remembered pulling similar pranks on his own siblings before, and on Steve, although he was never able to record it down. He supposed the memory of doing so would have to suffice.

The next time Bucky saw T’Challa was during dinner few days later, and he made a point to tell him,

“Your sister didn’t delete the footage.”

T’Challa was immediately confused, still completely clueless, and Bucky saw the exactly moment the realisation hit him, as his expression soured into something with faint annoyance.

“Shuri! I told you to delete it!”

“Serves you right brother!”

“Delete it!”

“No, this is comedy gold right here.”

Shuri tapped her Kimoyo bead to play the video again, and T’Challa immediately groaned, burying his face in his hands, resolutely refusing to watch himself get thrown across the room with his own sister laughing in the background for the billionth time.

“Maybe I should send it to Nakia,” Shuri smirked. “She’ll love this.”

“Don’t you dare.”

Undaunted, Shuri grinned, and tapped on her Kimoyo bracelet before feigning a look of mock horror.

“Oops, my fingers slipped,” Shuri gasped, and mouthed, “This is payback.”

T’Challa could only groan out loud.

Days continued like this, until one morning after lunch he went into the lab and saw T’Challa there with Shuri.

Both of them beamed upon seeing him, their smiles slightly bigger than usual. Bucky hesitated slightly, immediately suspicious.

What was happening? Was something going on-

“Today’s a special occasion,” Shuri declared.

“Special occasion?”

Shuri nodded enthusiastically but didn’t offer an explanation.

“What?”

Shuri then walked over to the white counter nearest to the window (which was fully repaired), pulling off a thin cloth.

A familiar gleaming metal arm stared back at him, and Bucky’s eyes widened.

The metal plates looked smoother and more polished than he’d imagined, the lines and curvature bending exactly to look like his own arm. Every muscle and bone, perfectly moulded to his shape.

It looked exactly like the prototype, except –

It had thin gold streaks spiralling down the entire arm.

“Well…I know you said metal, but I didn’t think you would-.”

“It’s beautiful,” Bucky cut in. “Thank you.”

Shuri brightened up, and walked over to the arm.

“So, ready to give it a whirl?”

Bucky thought about it, and nodded.

A few minutes later, the arm was finally attached, and Bucky was twisting his new arm around in every contortion possible, amazed. It felt…good.

“Well…I guess we should start calibrating it.” Shuri brought up a screen and tapped a few buttons, while T’Challa stood at the side, watching.

“Just some simple exercises for now. Can you bend your arm, at the elbow first.”

Bucky did as told.

“And extend.”

Shuri continued through every movement, before moving to testing the nervous connections and finally, the sensory functions.

Shuri had him close his eyes while she used various things to touch Bucky’s arm, something sharp, something soft, something hot, and something cold, at different parts of his arm. Every test went smoothly, and Shuri seemed pleased of herself.

“Just one final test. I’ll put something in your hand and I want you to tell me what it is, without looking.”

Bucky closed his eyes obediently. Something was placed in the centre of his palm, something small. Bucky rolled his fingers around it until-

“A coin.”

There was a hum of approval.

“What about this?”

A pause.

“Pen.”

“This?”

“Book.”

“Okay this is the last one. A hard one.”

Bucky frowned when something, no, someone rested their palm on top of his.

“It’s a hand,” Bucky answered easily, just as his fingers brushed down the person’s fingers, knuckles, wrist. He could feel the slight bulge of the veins running down the hand, and then he felt raised skin. Scars. Scars of a familiar-

“Stevie,” Bucky breathed out and opened his eyes, seeing none other than Steven Grant Rogers with a shy smile on his face standing right in front of him, hand encased in Bucky’s metal fingers.

Both T’Challa and Shuri looked very smug, but Bucky ignored both of them, focusing on his friend. He automatically scanned Steve’s body for injuries. Found none.

“Surprise.” Steve smiled. “Hey Buck. It’s been a while.”

How long had it been? Weeks? Months? It still felt like an eternity.

Bucky looked him over, detailing every part of his body and face. He looked the same as ever, blond hair, blue-eyed, insufferably sincere in every way. He wasn’t dressed in his uniform, he was wearing a blue collared top and pants, and he looked –

Well, good.

His dear friend was as massive as ever, perhaps even more so (which made no sense), only he wasn’t clean-shaven anymore, instead sporting a beard that looked…surprisingly good.

“It’s good to see you.” Bucky smiled, that one smile feeling more natural than ever. “Punk.”

Something lit up in Steve. Then he smiled and wrapped Bucky in a firm hug.

“Jerk.”

Bucky relaxed into the familiar warmth of Steve, completely uncaring about the fact that T’Challa and Shuri were still standing there watching their reunion.

Steve pulled away, but not before giving Bucky’s shoulder a firm squeeze.

“You are in dire need of a haircut.” Steve grinned, tugging on a loose strand of Bucky’s hair.

“You look like a bear.”

Steve laughed at that, pulling Bucky in for another hug before letting go.

“When did you get back?” Bucky asked.

“Just a while ago.”

Bucky nodded, and reached out with his metal hand.

Steve offered his hand automatically, and Bucky wrapped his fingers around his wrist tentatively, still testing the strength and mobility of his new appendage.

He could feel Steve’s arm right there, could feel the warmth radiating out, and even – Bucky shifted his fingers just slightly – his radial pulse. He moved on to touch Steve’s sleeve, a soft cottony material, and the small strands of arm hair. He could feel each and every strand, just as sensitive as his normal right arm.

It was incredible. He could feel everything.

Shuri looked delighted, T’Challa, satisfied, and Steve…Steve looked like a baby bear cub treading on snow for the first time, stupidly ecstatic.

Bucky slowly reached out to touch Steve’s face, brush through his beard. It was prickly, warm, he could feel Steve’s breath against his metal arm, and he nodded almost tragically.

“Definitely a bear.”

Steve laughed again – Bucky missed the sound of that - before his expression softened.

“I missed you.”

Bucky smiled at him.

“Missed you too.”