Zhelaniye

“You just can’t catch a break, can you?”

Steve’s eyes blinked open. This voice. He must still be dreaming.

Pushing up on his elbow, he opened his eyes. The light washing in was brighter than expected, but it only took him a moment to adjust, and the silhouette standing in front of the window quickly lost its edges of shadow.

Tony smiled at him, unsettlingly fond. The expression fell off his face almost immediately, though—by the time he’d crossed the room, his features had smoothed back into his usual hint of irony.

“Don’t freak out on me.” He sat at the end of Steve’s bed. “For the record, I wanted to let you wake up alone. But people think we should talk, or something.”

Steve looked out the window again. Still in Wakanda.

He went back to Tony. “Where’s Bucky?”

Tony scoffed. “Jeeze, your priorities really are set in stone, aren’t they?” He waved a hand around. "It’s fine. I come in peace, or whatever it is the kids say these days.”

“That’s what you said last time.”

Tony nodded, looking at his hands. Then he briskly got up. “Yeah, alright, I don’t know why I thought this might work. I’ll send his Majesty your way, just—”

“Tony,” Steve said.

Tony stopped with his back to him, his hand on the doorknob.

“Give me one second here.” Steve pressed a hand to his temple.

It didn’t help him make sense of this situation.

“Wanda loves you, you know?” Tony said suddenly. “She’s a good kid. We haven’t helped her build a lot of self-confidence. All this talk of time bombs.”

He let go of the doorknob and turned round, with his flimsy smile well in place. “But she keeps trying. One difficult choice after another. She’s one of the good ones, you were right to keep her.”

Steve looked at him. “She called you.”

“No, you’re the one who didn’t delete my number, in true bitter ex fashion. Wanda has a… connection to Vision, as it turns out. Not sure how that works. Anyway, you know him, all about equal opportunities, he asked me if I wanted to tag along. Why not? Wakanda’s beautiful this time of the year.”

Steve’s thoughts were still slow and difficult. His brain absolutely refused to recall what had happened right before he went under. All he knew was that he’d backed Bucky into a corner—and the result was this.

“Tony, I—”

“Look, I’m not completely obtuse—I know,” Tony said, talking over him. He scrubbed a hand over his face.  “Even back in Siberia, I knew what you were saying, alright? But just like you said, it doesn’t change what happened. It can’t change how I feel.” His lips twisted into a joyless smile. “Or how you feel.”

“Tony—”

“No, just—let’s not. Let’s not talk about this, or—Christ, anything, really. I didn’t actually think you’d wake up on my shift, I just—”

Someone knocked on the door and Tony swiveled round.

“Oh thank God. Alright, time’s up, let’s go.”

*

Steve had never been so happy to see T’Challa in his life. Tony must be thinking the same thing—he patted his suit-clad shoulder and hurried on his way without looking back. T’Challa frowned at him in distaste, but said nothing.

“Captain,” he said, turning back to Steve. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” said Steve automatically. He was looking at Tony’s retreating back. “Confused.”

“Didn’t he explain?”

“Well.” Steve frowned. “There was an attempt.”

T’Challa huffed through his nose. “Come. I’ll show you.”

The room they sat down in was in muted tones of silver, with an indoors waterfall whispering in a corner. It occurred to Steve he hadn’t seen much of the palace at all. Much like Bucky himself, he’d stayed confined in the medical wing.

“The first message is from him,” T’Challa said.

He tapped the smooth surface of the table, which shivered to life.

Bucky’s eyes were red-rimmed and haunted with a single-minded determination.

“Steve,” he said.

And then he said nothing for a long while. Eventually, he just rubbed his face with his hand, then pressed it hard over his eyes for a second.

“Just wait for me, alright?” he said in a straining voice. “One last time. There’s stuff I need to tell you.”

The video was over already.

T’Challa tapped at the table again, without a word. Wanda’s face appeared on the screen.

“Steve—I’m sorry for making you sleep. You were… I just eased the way under. But it doesn’t look like you’re waking up anytime soon, and we have to go.” She bit her lip, looked away, then back into the camera. “Trust me.” Her voice was unsteady, but her eyes shone. “Something good will happen.”

Again, the video was done too soon. Steve could feel himself blanch a bit more with every second.

“Why did they leave me messages?”

“Ms. Maximoff, the Vision and your friend have been locked together in the medical wing for the past forty-eight hours,” T’Challa said. “They were hoping to be done before you woke up, but just in case...”

“I slept for forty-eight hours?”

“No. Seventy-two. Mr. Stark and the Vision had to fly in through civilian means. Officially they’re on a diplomatic visit following the events in Vienna.”

Steve felt like he was going mad. “T’Challa, what is happening?”

“Teamwork, I believe.” T’Challa joined his hands, tapping at his vibranium ring. “Mr. Stark could indicate precisely which parts of the brain to target. The Vision’s power can impose his will upon the human mind. And Ms. Maximoff has the means to direct that power.”

Steve just stared at him.

“Your friend was adamant,” T’Challa said. “It had to end. No matter the risks.”

Get him out of here. The horror and anger in Bucky’s eyes had not been directed at Steve. Get him away from me.

 “Can I.” Steve’s throat had never been dryer. “Is there any way for me to see him. Please.”

“Not at the moment, I’m afraid.” T’Challa’s hand hovered over the table. “There is one last video. If you do want to see.”

*

Bucky’s eyes were still red-rimmed, and steely with focus.

“Zhelaniye. Rzhavyy. Semnadtsat’.”

T’Challa was walking in circles around him. The notebook was the color of blood in his hands.

“Rassvet. Pech’. Devyat’.”

Bucky’s face was gradually becoming devoid of expression. He just kept staring into space.

“Dorbroserdechnyy.”

Wanda was behind him, red tendrils connecting her fingers to his temples. He didn’t seem to feel them.

“Vozyvrashcheniye na rodinu.”

Vision was standing in a corner of the room.

“Odin.”

Bucky was completely still.

“Gruzovoy vagon.”

There was a short silence after T’Challa had spoken.

Then Bucky’s blank gaze zeroed on him.

“Soldat,” T’Challa said.

He was carefully holding himself, ready to spring at a moment’s notice.

But the Soldier just ducked his head. His voice was an awful, monotone rasp.

“Ja gotov otvečat’.”

The tension in the room shifted subtly, between two breaths.

“I have it.” Wanda’s voice was a hollowed-out whisper. “I know where.”

The Soldier heard her—realized what was being done to him—and in that same moment spotted Vision’s tall, alien silhouette in a corner of the room. His entire body stiffened; his gaze flew back to T’Challa.

“Is this termination?” he asked in English.

Though T’Challa didn’t move, something in his expression twisted. His tone remained steady and calm.

“No. It is honorable discharge.” He closed the notebook. When he spoke again, his voice was soft. “Do not fight. Let them in.”

The Soldier could not disobey. This was not what he was.

T’Challa stepped back, and Vision stepped forward.

He reached out and cupped Bucky’s jaw, red fingers pressing into flesh. The Soldier looked at him; his eyes were very wide.

“Sergeant Barnes,” Vision said in his otherworldly voice.

The stone on his forehead began to glow.

Blackness blossomed in the Soldier’s eyes and devoured them whole.

Behind him—over him—Wanda’s eyes rolled back completely in her head. Her power pulsed deeper into Bucky’s skull, through his eyes and his nose and his ears and his mouth.

He spasmed, only once.

After that nothing moved anymore. Save for the changing shadows cast on the walls and ceiling.

*

Trust me, Wanda had said.

Steve idly wondered for how long she’d been talking to Vision. This didn’t make him trust her any less. Clint had stayed in touch with Natasha. Sam very probably kept tabs on Rhodes.

And Steve—well.

“I thought I’d find you here,” he said, stepping out onto the terrace.

Tony didn’t turn round. Steve stopped a few paces behind him and stood there, waiting.

After a beat, Tony ducked his head and let out the ghost of a laugh. “God. Look at us.” There was something horribly raw in his voice. “It’s been a year. But it just won’t go away.”

“I understand the feeling,” Steve said quietly.

Tony scoffed and gazed at the jungle again. “Yes, we’ve always been very good at understanding each other.”

There was a silence.

“Thank you,” Steve said, a bit hoarsely.

“Well, you did say you’d be there if I needed it. See if I was gonna let you one-up me, you goddamn son of a bitch.” A muscle worked in his jaw. “And I did nothing. It’s all Vision. Wanda. I just gave them the blueprints.”

Steve didn’t dignify that with an answer.

“Maybe they’ll just fry his brain, anyway,” Tony said between his teeth.

Steve took a deep breath, then exhaled. “Would you like that?”

“Yes. No. I don’t—no. Then he’d be done, and it’d be just you.” Tony finally looked at him. There was a hint of horror in his expression. “It’s not you I want to hurt. Or—well. But. Jesus. Not like that. Not like I was—”

His hand had clenched into a white-knuckled fist on the stone railing.

“I wish I knew how…”

The look in his eyes was wild and helpless.

How did you do it? Steve had asked T’Challa. How did you let go of the hatred?

Tony blinked hard, then looked away. “I’m… I should get out of here. This is as far as I can go. And I can’t afford to go country-hopping for too long anymore.”

“What about Vision?”

“He’s a big boy, almost two years old, you know, can take care of himself. And he’ll want to stay and speak with Wanda anyway. Two households, both alike in dignity, you know the drill.” Tony pushed himself away from the railing. “You still have my number. Don’t let me know how it went.”

And he was gone.

*

Steve stayed alone on the terrace. After a moment, he slowly walked forward and leaned onto the balcony, where Tony had been.

He looked at the canopy for hours and hours and hours, gazing at the changing light as the sun went down. By the time it touched the horizon, he felt as ready as he would ever be.

And so it was just as well that T’Challa came looking for him, bearing news.