Chapter 7
He's back in the clothes he last wore, one knee in a water like liquid that felt more like air and mercury, not soaking into his clothes, and his vibranium arm back on his shoulder.
"Welcome to the reality." Stephen says.
There's nothing but a flat horizon, as orange dominates the plane. No structures, life, anything besides them and an eerie quiet as they stand in the strange liquid.
"Who else made it?"
He turns as he sees figures walking from behind them, the only two he recognizes being T'Challa and Sam, as the former embraces him. "I am sorry."
"Don't be. I slept long enough, remember?" Bucky smiles sadly, as Sam chimes in.
"Yeah, Freezerburn here was napping while we were getting out asses kicked." Sam lets out the smallest of smirks, before clapping Bucky's shoulder softly as well. "Nice to see you back."
"How're we getting out of here?" He asks Strange, as the man begins to make movements with his hands, conjuring almost a sun from birth. "Breaking reality." Small cracks appear on the horizon, as it did in his pseudo-dream.
"Ready?" Sam asks him.
"...Always." He clasps his left hand, feeling metal. Fighting his way back to a peace he'll get to. One day.