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Every time Bucky thought that he could, perhaps, start getting used to all the weirdness in his life, the universe had to go and throw him a curveball.
One would think stepping out of his house would lead him - well. Out of his house. Instead, he somehow appeared on a street in the shadier parts of some town he didn’t even know. The rundown building right in front of him had a sign that read "Skull Fracture", which really wasn't promising. But Bucky didn't have time to figure out what the hell was going on or how he'd got there. There was a lot of shouting coming from inside the building, and at least one of the voices sounded a lot like a kid.
Bucky didn't stop to think about it. He pushed aside the big tattooed guy in the entrance and stepped into the building. It was a dark, dirty joint that had seen a lot of fights. In fact, there was a pretty big brawl going on right now. He wasn't interested in the huge bikers punching and kicking each other. He made his way through the room, dodged a couple of chairs that got thrown around, and finally made it to what he was looking for.
Some skinny kid, barely a teenager, was standing on top of one of the pool tables. He was holding a rock over his head, trying to keep it out of reach. It didn't look like anything special, but judging from the bunch of bikers trying to get at it, it had to be more valuable than it seemed. By the time Bucky arrived, the boy had already managed to climb onto one the men's back and was trying to sneak out of the mess of fighting bikers without getting noticed. At least he was resourceful.
There was no way he was going to make it, though, so Bucky grabbed him by the collar of his vest and lifted him away from the fight.
Most of the guys turned to look at him, ready to move to a different target - and then they just kind of froze. Apparently, Bucky still had it, even with his current one-armed hermit look. The general shock only lasted a moment, but it was more than enough for Bucky to get ready.
“Hold on, kid,” he said. Then the real fight started.
It was quick and to the point. Those guys only had brute force going for them, and it wasn’t enough. Even with that boy dangling off his back, Bucky was faster and better. And the kid even managed to kick some faces while he was at it. Soon enough, the few bikers who were still standing realized it was a much better idea to quietly disperse and act like nothing had happened.
Bucky gave them one last glare for good measure, then walked out of the bar. He didn’t put the boy down until they were a few blocks away, just in case.
“Okay,” he said. “Explain.”
To his credit, the kid didn't even pretend the whole situation wasn't somehow his fault. He rubbed one arm with the other hand and blurted it out all once.
“Well, you see, this rock is kind of a wish-granting device? Those guys were trying to steal it from me and things got kind of scary, so I wished for help from someone who could beat up a bunch of tough bikers but who wouldn't want to beat me up too. Hopefully.”
He ended with a smile that tried to be adorable, never mind that he was a little too old for that to work. Bucky sighed. The worst part of all this was that it didn't even surprise him that much. Still, he had to ask.
“Why didn't you just wish to get out of there?”
“What, and end up in the bottom of the lake or falling off a cliff or something? You've got to be real specific with wishes.” Then he finally seemed to remember he was talking to a complete stranger. “Uh. I'm Dipper, by the way. Thanks for saving me back there.”
“That's all right,” he replied. He didn't give his name, but the boy didn't seem to mind. “Just wish me back to where I came from and we'll call it even.”
Dipper nodded and raised the rock on his hand again, trying to strike a heroic pose. Now he'd managed to look cute.
“Sure! I wish for this helpful mysterious stranger to return to where he came from, without any trouble, side-effects or small print of any kind!”
Nothing happened. At all. Bucky couldn't even pretend to himself that he had expected results.
“You sure that's the same stone?”
“Of course I am! I don't get it!” Dipper turned it around in his hands, staring at it as if that would explain anything. “Maybe it's just one wish per person? Here, you try.”
Bucky took the stone and made his wish. It still didn't work.
“I think you aren't putting your heart into it--”
“I think you better take me to a phone,” Bucky interrupted him. “I'll arrange a pick-up.”
“... oh. Oh! Yeah, that works!” All of a sudden, Dipper was acting really enthusiastic. “We'll go to the Mystery Shack, you can call whoever you need, and I'll check the Journals again. There's gotta be something useful in there.”
“I have no idea what you're talking about,” said Bucky.
He followed the kid anyway, since there wasn't much else he could do. Dipper sounded like he had been dying to bring up this subject. That was a good thing; at least he wasn't asking questions. Besides, it turned out to be actually interesting.
“My sister and I solve supernatural mysteries,” he explained. “It's kind of our thing.”
“You really shouldn't get involved with magic rocks, kid.”
“Yeah, it's a bit too late for that. We kind of get involved with magic everything.” He grinned a little. “It usually goes better than this. We saved the world last summer! But, uh, you wouldn’t have seen it in the news or anything. No one out of town even noticed it.”
“Hey, I believe you,” Bucky said, and meant it. “I’ve seen weirder things.”
Dipper beamed at him and kept on walking, all the while rambling about mysterious journals and alternate dimensions and, for some reason, triangles.
* * *
After a while, already in the outskirts of town, they reached a cabin surrounded by tall pines. According to the sign on its roof, this was the Mystery Shack that Dipper had been talking about. It didn’t seem to be anything but a good old-fashioned tourist trap. Seeing the indoors only proved his first impression right.
There were no tourists around at the moment, thankfully. Fewer people meant it was easier not to be recognized. A big man in a fez and an eyepatch was dusting the glass cases that held impressively fake attractions. An older lady had just set a tray of milk and cookies on the counter, right next to a jar of also fake but somehow still creepy eyeballs.
“Hi, Soos! Abuelita!” Dipper greeted them. “Where’s Mabel?”
“She’s still working on our new show,” Soos told him.
As if on cue, a pig burst running through the room and out the front door, chased by a girl who could only be Dipper’s sister. She was carrying what looked like an old, ratty fur coat.
“Come back, Waddles! You can’t be Pigfoot without your costume!” All of a sudden, she stopped dead and stared at Bucky. “Are you a dream?”
“I’m-- looking for a phone.”
“The Rock of Wishing works only once,” Dipper added. They must have discussed the subject before, because the girl - Mabel - nodded as if that made perfect sense. “And my phone got kind of crushed by angry bikers.”
“Here, you can use mine.”
She handed Bucky a phone in a case full of glitter and rainbows. He dialed the emergency number Shuri had given him, and didn’t have to wait at all.
“Don’t hang up, I’m tracking your location,” was the first thing she said, and only then: “Are you all right? What happened?”
“I’m okay,” he reassured her. “And it’s a weird story.”
“It must be a good one, you vanished right in front of my eyes. Then I tried to call you and your phone was in your house . What did I tell you about keeping it on you, grandpa?”
“Sorry,” he sighed. He almost made a joke about how if he was a little careless it just proved he was finally relaxing, but it was very obvious that everyone in the room was paying close attention to their talk, no matter how busy they tried to look. He didn’t want to say anything that might give him away. Also, when he put it that way, maybe he still wasn’t so relaxed after all. “Look, I don’t want to bother you, but I can’t get back the same way I came here.”
“Don’t worry, I got your coordinates. I’ll send someone for you but they’ll take a few hours, you’re in the middle of nowhere.”
“Thanks. I’ll stay put.”
“And stay out of trouble, too, White Wolf. See you soon.”
Then she hung up on him. Mabel gasped so dramatically that it had to be on purpose. Bucky turned to see her staring at him, with her hands on her cheeks.
“What?” he asked.
“I knew it,” she whispered in awe. “You are a hunky werewolf.”
“I’m not a werewolf,” he said. Mabel didn’t give up.
“Sure you aren’t. Then why did she call you that?”
Because she was smart enough not to use his real name when she didn’t know who else was around, Bucky thought, but he couldn’t say that. He was going to brush it off as a nickname but Abuelita beat him to it.
“He’s not a werewolf,” she said. “He’s Bucky Barnes.”
Suddenly the room fell silent. Everyone turned to stare at him. Bucky was starting to plan an escape route when Abuelita went on, still quite calm, as if she wasn’t harboring an international fugitive.
“I watched all the movies about the Howling Commandos when I was a young girl. He was the handsome one.”
“ Was ?"
Abuelita patted his shoulder and offered him one of the cookies.
“I'm sure you still clean up nice, dear.”
Dipper made a high-pitched sound that, judging from his expression, was meant to be a good thing.
“This is one of the coolest days of my life!” he said. “At least top ten. Wait - wait, who were you just talking to? Was she someone cool? I bet she was.”
“I really can’t tell you that,” Bucky replied. Dipper somehow looked even happier.
“It’s like I’m in a spy movie!”
“Wait a minute,” Soos interrupted, giving him a suspicious look. Bucky tensed a little. “You’re the mysterious stranger here. Why do you look more confused than all of us put together?”
“... I do?”
Everyone nodded. It was kind of embarrassing.
“I guess it’s weird that you aren’t more… concerned.”
“The Rock of Wishing,” Dipper explained with a shrug. “I asked for a good guy.”
“And you trust that thing?”
“Hey, you did help me out with those bikers, and you didn’t even get mad that I brought you here.”
“And you’d already have killed us all if you were really going to,” added Mabel cheerfully. Well, he couldn’t argue with that.
“You need to eat something while you wait,” said Abuelita, and that settled it.
* * *
They all had some of Abuelita’s cookies together - some of the best ones Bucky’d had, honestly - and Dipper brought out those journals he had been talking about. They were all handwritten, full of drawings and notes about all kinds of supernatural creatures and phenomena. It took a while to find the relevant page, because the kids stopped to tell stories about all those they had encountered. It looked like they’d had a very eventful summer the previous year.
“Here! The Rock of Wishing!” Dipper exclaimed at last. “Let’s see… ‘Once a wish is made, the Rock needs an entire month to recharge, sometimes longer if it’s not exposed to enough starlight and positive thinking.’ Seriously ? Wow, wish-granting devices are useless.’
“I don’t know,” said Bucky. “Maybe there’s some important life lesson here somewhere.”
“Yeah. Never trust anything.”
Bucky laughed out loud. Damn, he liked this kid a lot.
“That’s not a bad life lesson,” he said. “Also, try not to pick fights with angry bikers. At least until you’re taller.”
“I can’t make any promises,” Dipper said with a shrug.
Just then, the lights of a Wakandan plane overhead filled the air, visible even through the cabin’s windows. Bucky was already used to that, or so he’d thought, but there was still something eerie about it when it happened there in the middle of the woods. Or maybe it wasn’t about the plane at all. Maybe it was this place that made everything weird.
“Well,” he said, “that’s my ride.”
He got a bag of cookies for the road, and a hug from Mabel that lasted a bit longer than strictly necessary. Dipper settled for a very grown-up handshake. It was adorable.
“Thanks again for saving my butt today,” he said. “I’m sure that’ll make people think twice before they mess with me.”
“You know, I can’t just show up here any time you get in trouble.”
“Sure, but they don’t know that.”
Bucky raised his eyebrows at him. Then he couldn’t help but laugh, so he gave Dipper a nice manly pat on the back to show he meant well.
“Kid,” he told him, “you’ve got a future.”