Around noon, October 31rd, 2016.
Around noon, October 31rd, 2016.
The sun has reached its highest point, beating down on the arid bit of pasture that Bucky’s goats graze on when he’s not out on the plains with them. The hut he calls home when the city feels like too much is cool by comparison, but it’s still warm. It’s funny, having temperatures that feel like summer on Halloween. Not that they celebrate Halloween in Wakanda, but he and Steve can have their own little celebration, Bucky muses.
The light but familiar footsteps announce Steve’s arrival, he can see Steve’s shadow approaching in the doorway, so it’s no surprise when Steve sticks his head inside with a little “Booh!”. Bucky rolls his eyes but can’t help laughing.
“Hey stranger!” Bucky says with a laugh, getting up from his perch on one of the roughly hewn log stools to kiss Steve. They haven’t seen each other in almost three weeks, and Steve smells like home. “Hmm, beard. Not sure about the beard yet.” Bucky hums as they break apart.
“You’re one to talk!” Steve huffs, bringing a hand up to tug at Bucky’s own scruffy beard. Bucky laughs and swats the offending hand away, before curling up against Steve’s chest, arm around Steve’s waist, content just to breathe him in for a while.
“…hi.” Steve rumbles, arms coming up around Bucky’s frame. He’s lost weight again, Steve notices, the thin traditional Wakandan shift that Bucky’s wearing not doing much to conceal it. But Steve doesn’t mention it, not willing to break the peaceful moment.
They stand like that for a couple of minutes, before Bucky pulls away, cheeks gone pink. Suddenly, he seems incapable of meeting Steve’s eyes, gesturing at the little hut’s interior.
“Come in, pull up a uhm, log stool…” For a moment, Steve thinks Bucky looks kind of lost, and it’s the saddest thing he’s seen, but its over in a flash as Bucky starts pouring him a cup of water from a clay pitcher. Its all very rustic and such a far cry from the city boy Bucky used to be in the forties, a little disconcerting really.
“I brought you something. I kept forgetting about it.” Steve sits down on one of the log stools and rummages through his pack. Bucky comes over, the pitcher of water abandoned as his interest is piqued. Steve's hand touches the thing at the bottom of his pack, under his clean underwear and he pulls it out.
“I think it’s the same one Becca had when she was a kid. Remember she had that big dollhouse your uncle Marcus built?”
Steve holds up a little antique baby doll, barely two inches in size. It’s dressed in a little white linen dress with blue embroidery. He’s smiling at the memory, and it takes him a second to realize that Bucky’s eyes have gone glassy, and he’s unnaturally still. All his muscles seem to have frozen in place, it seems he’s not even breathing.
“Buck?”
Steve lowers the little doll out of sight, putting it on the log beside him. He gets to his feet, hesitant to touch Bucky as it may trigger a violent outburst.
“Bucky?” he tries again, soft and gently, and this time Bucky blinks. Once, twice, takes a breath and meets Steve’s eyes.
“Where did you find that?” he asks, voice a monotone.
“Uhm” Steve scratches the back of his head. He can't exactly tell Bucky that Rumlow had given it to him as a weird kind of joke, not knowing that Steve would be delighted with the doll and would hang on to it for sentimental reasons. Telling Bucky where the doll came from would certainly trigger a panic attack and he'd probably have to throw out the little doll. It takes Steve a second to work out what to say, deciding to tell the truth but keeping it vague enough to hopefully stay on the safe side.
“Someone on STRIKE gave it to me a few years ago. Said it was from the forties and therefore it reminded him of me. I hung on to it because Becca had the same one…” his voice peters out as he sees the colour drain from Bucky’s face.
Oh so slowly, Bucky steps around Steve and picks the doll up off the log. His hand closes around it and he carefully tucks it into the plaid wrap he’s wearing. He seems to be miles away, voice so small a whisper even Steve’s Supersoldier hearing can barely pick it up.
“…thank you…”