twelve

(—a temporary goodbye)

WHEN STEVE SAW Maev he thought she was dead. She was sitting on the ground, leaning against the jet they'd stolen, head resting back against the cool metal, eyes closed. Blood drenched her shirt and decorated her bare arms. Thick snowflakes intertwined with her dark hair and her eyelashes were crusted with the white material.

Bucky, who was leaning heavily against Steve, stumbled forward at the sight, his own wounds temporarily forgotten as he stared wide-eyed at the witch.

Then they both saw the rise and fall of her chest, James visibly relaxing at the sight, and even Steve nearly let out a sigh of relief. "Let's get you inside the jet and then I'll help her in." The blond man says, exhaustion dragging at every word he spoke.

As much as he wanted to protest, Bucky knew he was in no shape to even think about leaning down to shake Maev awake. So he let Steve help him up the ramp and into one of the seats. He let out a long breath, staring ahead at the metal walls that encased him. The absence of his metal arm was both comforting and frightening at the same time, and the wounds he'd sustained during the fight didn't help his mood.

Nor did the lingering numbness around his heart.

He'd nearly knocked himself out in the bunker when he'd dropped to the floor, his entire body going numb. It had only lasted a minute, but it was long and strange enough that he knew it didn't originate from him, but rather from Maev. And, he'd earned but the worry of Steve and Tony Stark... though the latter didn't care much about his well-being nearly five minutes later.

Not that Bucky blamed him. If he had been in that man's shoes he reckoned he would've reacted nearly the same way.

Bucky looked over as footsteps echoed on the ramp, Steve walking in with Maev in his arms. He set her down on the seat next to Bucky and it was then he realized that Maev's eyes were open. They were unfocused and she looked drained, but she was awake and that's what mattered most.

"Maev?"

The witch slowly turned her head in his direction, blinking slowly. Then the tiniest of smiles appeared on her lips, "James," His name was an exhale of relief, "you're okay." Her eyes flickered down to his missing limb and he briefly wondered if she'd felt the same pain that lanced through him when it had been shorn off by one of Stark's lasers, just as he felt as if he'd died briefly a few hours ago.

Steve reappeared, a blanket in hand, and T'Challa Udaku on his tail. Bucky straightened up, wariness lining his entire body.

"He's here to help, Buck." Steve said softly, "he knows you didn't do it."

Steve's words do nothing to ease Bucky's mind but he doesn't jump to his feet, partially because he's tired, partially because he trusts Steve. He doesn't take his eyes off T'Challa as the tall man moves further into the jet. He stiffens at a sudden weight on his right shoulder and glances over, only to find Maev's head resting there. Her eyes are closed and the snow in her hair is melting, dampening his sleeve.

To his surprise, he doesn't mind.

Steve drapes the blanket over Maev before sitting across from them, T'Challa moving to stand in Bucky's line of sight.

"I want to help you."

"Why?" Bucky's voice reflects his appearance, tired, wary, and suspicious.

"Because you are being hunted for something you did not do and I do not want a man to be imprisoned for deeds he didn't commit. I offered this to Captain Rogers and I will offer it to you as well, if you wish it, you have a place in Wakanda," The soon-to-be king glances at the sleeping witch, "as does she."

Then, T'Challa stood up and walked out.

"What do you want to do?" Steve asks him, moving to close the back of the jet.

Bucky is silent for a while, mulling over his options. He finds his gaze drifting to Maev and he finally lets it rest on her, monitoring her every breath as he thinks. He knew, logically, that going to Wakanda made the most sense. It was a safe haven, a place for them to hide in plain sight...

But would that be enough?

Bucky had thought his few years spent separating fact from fiction had helped him heal. He'd thought the time he spent assimilating to the real world had helped him heal. He'd thought his sessions with Maev had helped him heal.

All that work swept down the drain by a handful of words.

What would stop someone else from finding those words? What would stop him from turning into the Winter Soldier at the behest of another vengeance seeker? What would stop his own mind turning against him... even without the use of those wretched words? What would stop him from attacking Steve again? What would stop him from attacking Maev if it came down to it?

A chill crept down his spine at the very thought. Maev was strong, but if even Steve got hurt fighting him...

Maev has magic, he reminds himself, Steve just has his guts and stupid hero complex that makes him get his ass whooped more than the average person.

Bucky nearly smiled at his thoughts, memories of a skinny, much smaller Steve in the alleyways of Brooklyn flashing through his mind.

Real. He held onto that memory. That's real.

He shifted, slowly moving so his arm rested across Maev's shoulders, her head resting on the junction of his arm. And as he stared down at her, he made up his mind, knowing that this was the best way, the safest way.

He raises his head, meeting Steve's gaze, and nods once.

Then he closes his eyes, content with the knowledge that, for the first time he could remember, he'd made the right choice. 

Maev Barebone awoke in a strange room. It was decorated in rich blues and subtle gray, the sheets falling away from her body as she sat up. She looked down at the clothes adorning her body— modern, yet with a twist —and in an instant, she knew where she was. There was only one place where one could get clothes like this.

She slid out of the bed, walking across the soft carpet, and moved the curtains slightly, wincing at the bright light that flickered through. Once her eyes adjusted she opened the curtains all the wall, gazing at the technological marvel laid before her.

Wakanda.

Maev had only ever stepped foot in this country once before at the behest of its deceased king under the cover of night. Only the stars witnessed her arrival and even the man she'd tracked down— a rogue war dog who the king needed to be brought in —never saw her face, just complete and utter darkness.

The king, grateful for her services, had gifted her the wondrous motorcycle after she refused payment.

Why was she here now?

The door opened behind her and Maev turned to see a tall, young girl enter, a friendly smile on her face. "Good morning," she checks her wrist, "or should I say good afternoon."

Maev looked over the girl. She was in her late teens and her black hair was weaved into tight braids against her scalp, part of the braids twisted into buns atop her head. "My name is Shuri, my brother brought you here."

Maev frowned, all things considered, she was still an outsider in the eyes of most Wakandans, so who would have the power to—

"T'Challa."

"That's right. Now, if you'll please follow me we're going to have a little walk and talk so everything goes smoothly."

Confused, but placated by the girl's easy-going nature, Maev followed the princess into the hallways. Guards lined the hall in scarlet uniforms, their eyes staring straight ahead, long spears resting in their steady hands. The two made their way through the building, slowly and surely descending.

"Is James here?" Maev asked her as they started down a steep spiral of steps.

"I'm taking you to him, I figured you'd want to say goodbye."

Panic shot through Maev and she paused, "...goodbye?"

Shuri quickly waved her hands, "Ah not like that! Poor choice of words, sorry. He wanted to go under while I fixed his wiring and dug out the terrible technology inside of him."

Maev started walking again, a bit stunned, "You can do that?" She finally asked the princess quietly, "You can get the tech out?"

"I'm going to do my best." Came Shuri's calm reply.

They reached the bottom and turned a corner where a few people in white scurried around. A large, clear cylinder rested in the corner, wires spiraling out of it and into the walls. Three familiar faces turned at their entrance, but Maev only focused on one.

"Hey." She nearly whispered, coming to a stop in front of Bucky.

"Hi," he said quietly back, "...I take it she explained what I'm doing?"

Maev had never seen Bucky look so hesitant to say something. "Yeah, I think, I think it's a good idea."

He relaxed, relieved, "It'll only be for a little bit. Just until she can figure out the mess that HYDRA put inside of me."

It's silent for a moment, but it's not uncomfortable. At some point the others had left the room, leaving the two alone. Maev pressed her lips together, trying to come up with the right words. "James?" She asked, looking up at him.

He looked down at her, "Yeah?"

The first few times Maev had interacted with him, she'd noticed how nervous he was to have contact with another person. And it's because of this that she decides to ask him about her next action instead of acting on impulse. "Can I give you a hug?"

He blinked, the corners of lips twitching up, nodding his head.

Maev moved forward and wrapped her arms around him, closing her eyes to imprint this moment into her memory. His single arm rests gently around her, his touch light, his chin resting slightly on top of her head.

Witches are cold-blooded by nature, Maev especially, and never before had she felt so...

Safe, she realized with a start, I feel safe.

She pulled away, hoping the warmth lingering in her cheeks wasn't visible. Then she smiled at him and he smiled back, the first real smile she'd ever seen of his, and Maev felt a tiny flicker of hope deep within her light up.

"Can you," he paused, collecting his words, "would you do me a favor?"

To anyone else, she would've asked what it was, or teased them before giving an answer, but for him—

"Anything."

"Can you be here when I wake up?" He looked away from her, rubbing the back of his neck, "It's just the last time I woke up after being under I was in Siberia and a familiar face... I think it would help."

"I'll be there," Maev promises.

Footsteps sound out and Shuri reenters, "Are you ready, Sargent Barnes?" Bucky nods, the others trickling back into the room as machines whir to life and Shuri checks a giant screen. The princess guides Bucky to the cryogenic tank, having him lay down and gently strapping him in, the restraints loose enough to not cause him any panic, but tight enough to keep him from falling over.

Maev watches, her fingers interlaced tight enough that the white of her knuckles begins to show. Bucky meets her gaze as the glass slides over him, something indiscernible in his eyes before he closes them.

The tank fills with gas and his breathing steadies out, his vitals displayed on the screen Shuri had been surveying moments before.

Maev clenches her jaw as the tether between them goes quiet. It's not gone, but it's not fully there either. No longer was it alive with energy and emotions, instead, it turned into a void that she hurtled her emotions uselessly at. She felt empty without feeling his presence, a frown appearing on her face.

She turned and walked out of the room, bracing her hands against a window sill and leaning forward slightly, gazing at the large statue in the distance, the harsh ache in her heart slowly becoming a dull murmur.

This is for the best, she had to remind herself, it's what he wanted.

"Where will you go?" T'Challa's voice drew her attention from the vibranium black panther to the living embodiment of it.

"North." Is all she says, straightening up. "I have some loose threads I need to cut before everything unravels."

His eyes glimmer at her riddle, curious, but cautious enough he doesn't push.

"Thank you," she tells him, turning to face him, "for helping James."

The prince claps his hands behind his back, "It was the right thing to do." Maev turns to leave, pausing when T'Challa clears his throat. "Shuri will contact you when she's ready to wake him up."

Maev nods slightly, pulling once more on that quiet tether, before melting into the shadows. North she would go, to her sisters, to her people, all so she could rid herself of her enemies. And the only thing she had to keep her grounded was the taunt weight of the tether.

A reminder, not just of James, but of her humanity that she left slumbering with him.

oof i love me some bittersweet fluff

let me know what you think :)