Chapter Text
"They thought all hope was lost as another swarm of aliens came up over the hill. Captain America turned to the battered Avengers around him and they all slowly nodded, acknowledging that they were with him to the end. Then, as the swarm was just about on them, there was a blur of movement to their left and, with a loud battle cry, the blur ran headlong into the throng of aliens. It was…"
"The White Wolf!" the kids cried out on cue and Barton grinned while his eyes danced with amusement. Bucky was certain Barton knew he was there, but he ignored Bucky's presence in a dark corner of the hut and continued on with his story.
"With a swing of his metal arm and the rapid fire of his gun, the White Wolf cut through the aliens in his path. Behind him, the whole of Wakanda’s army, led by their king and with the Avengers among them, charged in to join the battle. The fight was long and bloody, but they had turned the tide against the aliens and victory was theirs. Earth was safe again."
The gathered children clapped and quickly called out for more stories.
"Tell the one where the White Wolf and Captain America fight the Iron menace!"
"No! I want to hear more about the war and his pack of commandos!"
"The one with the giant tank!"
Barton held up his hands and it was token of the respect he’d earned in the village that the children quieted quickly.
"It’s near dinner time. Let’s save the stories for tomorrow. After you complete your chores."
There was a chorus of disappointed groans, but the kids dutifully stood and left the hut after giving their storyteller quick hugs goodbye.
"Ugh. I am way too old to crouch like that," Barton complained and stretched his back, still ignoring the weighted silence in the room.
"So the name came from you?" Bucky finally asked and Barton turned toward him with a smirk.
"Nice, huh? Black Panther, White Wolf. Dark, light. Big cat, puppy do...og." Barton grinned unrepentantly at Bucky's scowl. "It’s catchy. Come on, admit you like it."
Bucky growled in response, which only succeeded in making Barton’s grin widen.
"See, you’re already embracing it!" Barton chuckled as he started to move past Bucky.
"You shouldn’t make me out to be a hero," Bucky protested. The name itself hadn’t bothered him, but he didn’t think he deserved the awe in which it was said by the children. Not after everything he’d done.
The grin slid off Barton’s face as he stopped in the doorway, eyes going dark with an emotion Bucky couldn't name. "I call ‘em like I see ‘em."
"I'm not a—"
"You are," Barton cut in through a jaw clenched in what Bucky realized was anger. "Hydra took everything from you for decades. Your life, your identity, your free will. Don't let them take this from you too."
It took a moment for Bucky to recover from his surprise before he could move to follow Barton—to say thank you or continue arguing his point, he wasn't sure—only to be stopped in his tracks by Wanda standing just outside the door. He caught himself from flinching back at her sudden appearance, widened his stance to keep from stumbling, and tried his best not to look like he'd been running after Barton.
Wanda made no move to get out of Bucky's way and gave him a knowing smile after several seconds passed, as if she sensed his impatience.
"Clint has an annoying habit of not letting us wallow in our own bullshit," she finally said.
Bucky frowned in confusion, trying to shake a vague suspicion that he was being scolded by a younger sibling.
"He likes to think we believe his, though," she continued. "He says he owes me a debt and that Cap has earned his loyalty."
"Your point?"
"Clint cares deeper than most, more deeply than most of us deserve. I hate to see him disappointed."
Bucky suddenly wished he had both arms to cross defensively. He didn't understand how anything he could do would disappoint Barton. Bucky barely knew him aside from Steve's assertion that the guy was his first call when things when to shit. The only thing Bucky could add to that knowledge was that Barton and Wanda had arrived in the village a few weeks before they'd woken Bucky and, in that short time, had somehow managed to endear himself to the entire village.
Before Bucky could come up with any sort of response to Wanda, a voice rang out and Shuri came around the corner from where they were standing.
"Wanda!"
"Shuri," Wanda greeted warmly. "I wasn't expecting you today."
Many of the Wakandans were still wary of Wanda and her power, but it was clear that Shuri held no such reservations as the two friends embraced.
"I finished the modifications to the Talon that Clint suggested and was hoping he'd be willing to come flying with me."
"He's with Okoye. We're invited to dinner," Wanda replied and turned toward Bucky to include him in the invitation.
Bucky nodded his acceptance at Wanda before greeting Shuri with a smile and an arm crossed in front of his chest. Shuri returned the Wakandan greeting with both arms and a wider smile.
"Hello Bucky. I hope you are still doing well?" Shuri asked kindly.
"I'm good. Thank you."
They made the short walk to Okoye's hut and toward the back where stairs led them down to a larger, more modernized area hidden below ground. In the dining room, they found Okoye and Barton having a hushed conversation beside the table. Okoye's back was turned toward them, blocking most of Barton from view, but Bucky could still see the supportive hand at her elbow and the smile of reassurance on Barton's face.
Barton gave Okoye's elbow a quick squeeze before letting go and turned toward the door, his smile brightening when he saw Shuri. They each crossed their arms and bowed in greeting before Barton opened his arms and Shuri stepped into them for a quick hug.
"Hello, little one," Barton said.
"Hello, old man," Shuri responded with a grin. "I brought the Talon for you to fly."
"Does the king know you're here?" Okoye asked with a frown. "Their being in this village was meant to keep them out of sight. Flying here every two days is bound to attract attention."
Shuri waved away Okoye's concern with a shrug. "I used stealth mode. Am I invited to dinner?"
Okoye sighed in exasperation, but turned to grab another place setting from the kitchen. Bucky ended up seated between Barton and Okoye, with Shuri and Wanda across the table. Shuri spent most of dinner giving Okoye the latest updates and gossip from the palace. Bucky hadn't been awake long enough to spend much time with Okoye, so he had to assume there was some other reason for the general to be in the village, aside from guarding the outsiders who weren't technically even there.
As soon as dinner was finished, Shuri jumped up excitedly. "Time to fly and for you to be amazed at my genius!"
Barton smiled fondly and stood, turning to Okoye with a small bow. "Thank you for dinner. It was delicious, as always." Okoye gave him a small smile in return and then Barton turned to Wanda. "I'm sure you don't want to come flying with us."
"No, thank you," Wanda replied. "Once was more than enough."
Shuri laughed and leaned over to give Wanda a one-armed hug as Barton turned to Bucky. "How about you, Barnes? Care to come flying with us?"
The words were friendly and Bucky was about to politely decline, when he looked up at the teasing challenge in Barton's eyes. He quickly weighed Wanda's adamant refusal, Okoye's carefully blank expression, and Shuri's mischievous grin against the unspoken challenge.
"Sure, why not? I'll come flying with you." Bucky wasn't Steve Rogers' best friend for nothing.
Instead of surprise, Barton's face split into a wide, happy smile, as if Bucky's answer was what he'd been hoping for.
"Let's go!" Shuri whooped in excitement and jogged up the stairs.
Clint motioned him to go first, so Bucky stood and followed Shuri up and out of the hut. They walked to a clearing just outside of the small village, where Shuri tapped one of the beads on her wrist. A few yards in front of them, the air shimmered before resolving into a shape that Bucky assumed must be the Talon. He couldn't hold back a small gasp of appreciation once it was fully revealed. The Talon was about the size of a quinjet, but sleeker—all smooth lines and black angles. It looked both intimidatingly sinister and utterly beautiful at the same time.
"Gorgeous, isn't it?" Clint asked as he stepped up next to Bucky. "Don't ever tell her I said so, but it reminds me a bit of Natasha."
Bucky paused, blinked, and looked at the Talon again. He didn't know too much about the spy—Clint's best friend, from what Steve had told him—but from what he'd seen…
"Yeah, I can see what you mean."
Clint snorted in amusement and bumped Bucky's right shoulder with his own. "Come on, let me show you how she soars."
~^~
About a week later, Bucky moved from the small hut he had woken in, to the one Wanda and Clint had been sharing. It, like Okoye's hut, had a hidden area underground that housed two bedrooms with attached baths, a large living room, kitchen, and dining room. Wanda hadn’t explained why she was leaving when she’d said her goodbyes the day before and Bucky hadn’t been comfortable enough with her to ask.
"Wanda went to see Vision," Clint explained without prompting as Bucky watched him assemble a lasagna for dinner.
"Isn't that risky with the Accords still law?"
Clint shrugged, tension clear in the hunch of his shoulders.
"You didn't want her to go."
Clint shrugged again and took his time putting the lasagna in the oven before turning back to Bucky with a wry smile.
"It wasn't what I wanted that was important," Clint finally responded. "Wanda is capable of making her own decisions. I won't take that away from her."
"But you're worried."
"I'm worried." Clint sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "She's not in danger, not with Vision, and Stark promised—"
"You've been talking to Stark?!"
Bucky stood and knocked over the stool he'd been perched on. He tensed, ready to bolt, until his brain caught up with the instinct to flee and he realized he didn't know where he'd go. Part of the reasoning of where they were was that the village was difficult to access unless you had an aircraft and already knew where to go.
Clint didn't react to Bucky's sudden movement, just waited patiently for Bucky to relax, right the stool, and sit back down. "Shuri set up a secure connection that even Stark can't trace. Vision asked to see Wanda and she agreed. They're meeting in Paris or Venice or somewhere else equally romantic. I didn't ask."
"Please tell me that Shuri didn't take her in the Talon."
Clint laughed and the remaining tension in both their shoulders faded as Bucky grinned back automatically.
The flight on the Talon had been exhilarating and one of the newer memories that Bucky would keep with him as a reason to be glad that he'd survived into the future. Clint had flown her like an eagle riding wind currents—light touches on the controls you barely felt as he maneuvered flawlessly through narrow canyons and followed the winding river. In counterpoint, Shuri flew the Talon like a bat out of hell—with all of the skill and no attempt at nuance. Clint had laughed then too, supremely confident in both the engineer and pilot of the craft. Bucky had strapped himself in tight and put his faith in Clint's confidence until they were safely back on the ground.
"Okoye flew her out," Clint was saying now. "She'll make sure nothing seems wrong before leaving Wanda on her own."
"Can I ask a question?"
Clint looked like he was holding back a smile, but nodded at Bucky's polite question and leaned back against the counter.
"Has Okoye been assigned to guard us? Shuri mentioned she was the general of the Dora Milaje. Isn't that a bit conspicuous for her not to be at the king's side?"
"You get that we're not being held here, right? That we can come and go as we like?" Clint waited for Bucky to nod before he continued. "I don't have a lot of the details, but something bad happened just after T'Challa's coronation. Nearly a civil war, bad." Bucky winced, unable to keep himself from thinking about the fight at the airport. "It got personal for Okoye and they used it as an excuse for why she needed time away. The king wanted to make sure we were protected in case there were any lingering bad feelings toward Wanda… and you, I suppose."
"We owe the king a lot."
"There are good and bad ways to take ownership of your actions. I think T'Challa is doing his best to stay on the right side of that line. I’m not one to argue against his good will."
They slipped into a comfortable silence—each of them lost in their own thoughts—as the kitchen slowly filled with the wonderful smell of lasagna. Bucky found his thoughts wandering away from righting his own wrongs, to old memories of the Italian delis scattered around the neighborhood in Brooklyn. It didn't register that his stomach was growling until Clint slid a plate full of salami, cheese, and crackers across the island toward him.
"We've still got some time before the lasagna's ready," Clint offered with a small smile. "Figured you'd need a snack if your metabolism is anywhere close to Steve's."
"Thanks. I thought Wanda did all the cooking?" She'd made a tasty chicken paprikash the other night and had worked with Okoye on what Bucky had been told was a traditional Wakandan pork dish earlier in the week. Clint typically ended up washing dishes.
"I make do. Having kids means you can't always order takeout."
The last bite of salami was suddenly more difficult for Bucky to swallow. "I'm sorry. If I'm the reason you're here and not with them."
"Nah, don't blame yourself for that," Clint replied with an emphatic shake of his head. "I did perfectly well ruining that on my own."
"You saying that coming to help Stevie didn't put you here?"
"What I'm saying is that I was already sleeping in the barn when he called." Clint sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "When Nat first called, I told her I was still retired because I didn't want her to know. I think she always wanted it more than I did—the family she thought she'd never get."
Clint sat on a stool across from Bucky and snagged a piece of cheese off the plate before continuing. "I love my wife and my kids. I don't think that will ever change, but I ain't cut out for being idle. Been on the move since I was seven and never figured out how to stop. Laura and I kept trying, kept hoping for something to change. New York didn't do it and Sokovia didn't either. Took a while for me to admit that nothing would and that my family deserved more than what I could give. I'd been watching the news, debating on whether I fly out to Germany on my own or call Fury first, when Cap got a hold of me. Choice was easy."
"You had to fight your best friend."
Clint shrugged, unconcerned. "Wasn't the first time and probably won't be the last. It's cool. Real friendships survive that kind of thing."
Bucky paused and then nodded at Clint's knowing look. They snacked in silence for another few moments and then Clint leaned forward on his elbows.
"Can I ask you a question now? Cuz I've always been curious and am hoping you got back enough of your old memories to answer."
"Uh, sure," Bucky agreed, expecting a question about Steve.
"Did Morita really lose a bet to you once and had to lick the inside of Doogan's hat?"
Bucky blinked, an image of Morita's face twisted in disgust popping to the front of his mind. The bark of laughter that escaped his throat was as startling as the unexpected memory.
"So it's true?" Clint grinned as Bucky got his laughter under control and wiped tears from the corner of his eyes.
"Yeah. Idiot bet me that I couldn't rile Steve up enough to take a swing at me. How the hell do you know so much about the war?" Bucky had heard Clint tell the village kids several stories about the Howling Commandos—recognized that he'd stopped telling stories about the White Wolf—and had never needed to correct him on the facts.
"My mom was a history teacher before she met my dad. All the stories she told were about you guys."
Bucky smiled. "I'm picturing a little you running around with a cardboard shield pretending to be Captain America."
"Nah, that was Barney, my brother," Clint corrected, then surprised Bucky by blushing. "I, ah… I always wanted to play you."
"Me?"
"The comics—you know about those, right?" Clint asked and Bucky nodded that he did. "The comics made you out to be a kid, a sidekick. Mom's books said you were Cap's best friend, a sniper, and that you watched his back. I was a scrawny kid from middle-of-nowhere Iowa who was halfway deaf cuz my dad liked to get drunk and take it out on his family. Cap seemed too big a stretch, but I figured I could be the friend that watched his back."
Bucky stayed quiet, unsure how to process all the new information. His chest ached for the little Clint he could picture in his head.
"So yeah," Clint said, voice purposefully light. "Fast forward a few decades I definitely don't want to talk about and I get led into this guy's office at SHIELD. I was still expecting them to lock me in a cell, but this guy, Phil, was the biggest Cap fan you'll ever meet. He had a bunch of collectibles on the shelves behind his desk and one was your old sniper sight. I was pretty excited to see it, so Phil explained how SHIELD had started with the SSR. He told me that he and Nick believed I had it in me to live up to the example you'd set. Made me believe it too. Phil gave me the sight as a gift when I made full agent status."
"Wow…" Bucky paused, taking a few moments to let everything that Clint had told him sink in. "That's…"
"A lot to lay on a guy, sorry. Don't, uh, let it get weird, okay? I mean, it was weird enough spending time with Steve. Kinda takes the shine out of the hero worship when you watch the guy burn everything except water."
"I'm pretty sure I remember him doing that once when we were growing up."
Clint laughed a little and, just like that, the awkwardness was broken. It was mind boggling to know Bucky had inspired someone like Clint, but at least it didn’t seem like he was going to try and hold him up on some pedestal. Bucky forced himself not dwell on what he’d become since he was Sergeant Barnes. He liked hearing Clint’s laugh.
"You know what was super amazing?" Clint was saying. "Meeting Peggy Carter. She was…just…oh boy. Talk about living up to expectations. I'm pretty sure I tripped over my tongue just trying to say hello."
"She had that effect on people," Bucky commiserated. "This one time, Dum Dum…"
~^~
Bucky woke the next morning feeling… more than good. He was closer to happiness than he remembered being in a long time. Whatever Shuri had done with his head, he’d stopped having nightmares filled with confusing memories. The memories were still there, but they were clearer somehow—things he could wade through and come to terms with on his own instead of being attacked by them in his sleep.
Determined to maintain his lighter mood, Bucky quickly showered and dressed, only fumbling slightly with his clothing, then walked out to the kitchen for breakfast. He and Clint had spent the rest of the night telling each stories of the Commandos and the Avengers until their sides were aching with laughter and their bellies full of lasagna. Despite his earlier confession about his childhood, Clint somehow made Bucky's past just his past, not something he’d tainted or had to live up to. It didn’t really make sense if he thought about it too hard, but Bucky had a feeling that most things weren’t supposed to make sense with Clint.
When he made it out to the kitchen, Bucky was disappointed to find that Clint had already had his own breakfast and left the hut. There was a pot of coffee, bagels, and a note left behind for Bucky to check the refrigerator. Inside, Bucky found everything he’d need to make a Nova lox bagel, the onions and tomatoes already sliced and in small plastic containers. The warm feeling he’d woken with spread and made Bucky’s smile widen as he pulled the ingredients out of the refrigerator.
He ate three loaded bagels, using his enhanced metabolism to justify the excess, and cleaned the kitchen before heading up and outside. Bucky wandered around the village, greeting a few people he passed and didn’t realize he was looking for something until it found him.
"Barnes, hey!" Clint called from behind him and Bucky spun around, an unconscious smile already on his face. "Exactly who I was looking for."
Clint didn’t wait for Bucky to respond, just motioned for him to follow and then turned back in the direction he’d come.
"You’re right-hand dominant, aren't you?" Clint asked when Bucky fell into step beside him.
Bucky raised an eyebrow, wondering if Clint was joking, but he looked completely serious.
"Yeah," Bucky responded after a beat, "back when I had two—"
"Great! This should work out."
"What should?" Bucky asked, but Clint only kept walking until they turned a corner and Bucky could see a line of young Wakandans lined up in front of targets, spears in their hands and waiting at their feet.
Another group further down the line were already throwing their spears at the targets, but the younger Wakandans closest to Bucky and Clint were clearly waiting for them. Bucky noted that none of them seemed surprised to see Bucky as they walked closer.
"So," Clint explained as he picked up one of the spears on the ground, "they're all right-handed and I'm not, so I thought this would work better with you."
Clint held out the spear and Bucky tentatively reached out to take it. "You want me to show them how to throw?"
"Yeah," Cint nodded, then pulled the spear back before Bucky could grasp it. "You do know how to properly throw a spear?"
Bucky glowered—the Winter Soldier had been trained to be proficient in all weaponry—and Clint smirked before handing the spear over. He tossed the spear in his hand a few times, to test its weight and balance, before adjusting his grip and getting into the right throwing stance.
"Don't forget to compensate for—"
This time, Bucky shot Clint a glare and he wisely snapped his mouth shut. Clint was clearly biting the inside of his lip to keep his grin from emerging, but motioned for Bucky to continue.
Bucky shook out his shoulders to loosen them and get a feel for his now-missing appendage, re-adjusted his grip, threw, and bit back a curse. He'd overcompensated for his lost arm and the spear sailed just past the edge of the target to embed itself in the dirt. Clint didn't say anything, only held out a second spear with his face carefully blank.
The second spear hit the target, to the right of center, and Bucky wordlessly held his hand out for another spear that Clint immediately handed over. The third spear hit dead center. He nodded to himself and turned to gloat a bit, but Clint had already moved his attention to the Wakandans, encouraging them to give it their own tries before walking down to the older group.
Bucky watched Clint walk away in bemusement until the motion of the young Wakandan standing next to him caught his attention. Her grip wasn't quite right and Bucky stepped forward after they'd thrown to suggest a change. She smiled her thanks at Bucky when her next throw showed improvement, gripped the next spear, and waited for Bucky to nod before throwing again. Pleased that he was able to help, Bucky moved on to scrutinize the next few in line. He made a few more corrections before Clint called out loudly from the middle of the group.
"Clear!"
Everyone around Bucky immediately stopped, the few holding spears carefully putting them back on the ground, and then raised an arm up high.
"Clear!"
"Clear!"
"Clear!"
Responding cries echoed down the line until they all hand a hand raised and were looking around at each other. The Wakandan Bucky had been helping nudged him with his unraised elbow, making Bucky realize that everyone around him were looking at him expectantly.
"Clear," offered the girl on Bucky's other side and raised her arm a little higher.
"Um. Clear," Bucky said and raised his arm.
"Clear!" They all called out in unison and all the arms dropped. Bucky followed automatically.
"Retrieve!" Clint yelled and the Wakandans took off running into the field to grab their spears.
Bucky glanced at Clint, who raised an eyebrow at him expectantly. Bucky rolled his eyes in response, but dutifully ran out to retrieve the three spears he had thrown. As each person made it back to the firing line, they laid their spears on the ground, raised an arm, and once again called out, "Clear!" When everyone was off the field and accounted for, Clint called out a final, "Fire away!" The hands dropped and they all resumed their practice. It was an impressive and clear demonstration that they'd been training with Clint for some time.
"Like this?"
Bucky refocused and checked the Wakandan's grip on her spear before nodding.
"I am Dore," she offered shyly and Bucky smiled back.
"I'm Bucky."