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James Buchanan Barnes.

Jean sat pouring over the man's file as they passed over the Atlantic Ocean.

Shuri had handed her the information before turning to her brother. "I can't believe that you froze again," she had said.

Jean tried to block out everything else as she started through the file. It was not a very pleasant read.

She combed through decades of death, with only the beginning and end of the file giving any break. The pictures were what interested her most.

Barnes in his crisp, new uniform. The photo called for a neutral face, but there was a playful light in his eyes and the barest smirk could be seen on his lips.

Then there was Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers laughing, surrounded by their team, The Howling Commandos.

The next picture was almost too grainy to make out the dark figure it was trying to capture. The barrel of a sniper rifle stood out against the gray sky.

More pictures like that followed. Their dates spanned decades. All of them depicted a figure either in the shadows or too blurry to see properly.

And then there were a few old shots from camera footage. The timestamp marked the year as 1991. The first picture showed a crashed car with a dark figure on a motorcycle nearby. The next one had his face. He had his gun aimed up at the camera, his dark eyes unreadable.

Jean recognized the rest of the photos from the news. Traffic camera footage from D.C. showing armed men in the streets. Captain America getting arrested. Helicarriers crashing into buildings.

The last photos were taken within the past month. The picture of the fake Barnes that had been plastered all over the news. Security footage from the Berlin airport with Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers fighting together again.

Jean closed the file when she reached the end. "How did you get all of this?"

Shuri sat down across from her. "When Natasha Romanoff released all of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s files, everything was out in the open. After my father..." The princess blinked and cleared her throat. "After the bombing in Vienna, we collected anything we could on Sergeant Barnes."

The girl's sorrow hit Jean like a ton of bricks. She did not show it, but the princess's mind swirled with memories of her father. Her loss and pain was palpable.

Jean blocked it out as best she could and leaned forward, resting a hand on Shuri's arm. "I'm sure you've heard this a lot, but I am so sorry for your loss."

Shuri nodded and sniffed. "Thank you."

Her eyes darted around the ship until they snapped back to Jean. She leaned in slightly.

"Can you really read minds?" Her words and thoughts dripped with curiosity.

There was no hint of fear, and Jean smiled. It was a welcome relief from the fear that she usually felt in others.

The telepath raised an eyebrow and mentally said, "Yes."

Shuri jumped in her seat, her eyes growing even wider as her jaw dropped. "How do you do that?"

Jean shrugged. "It's just like when you have mental conversations with yourself. Except I'm just pushing it to your mind."

"Woah." Shuri sat back in her seat, her mouth still hanging open. "I'm definitely going to have to do some brain scans when we get back to my lab."

"Princess," one of the Dora Milaje spoke, "I need to speak to you for a moment."

The woman cast a quick glance at Jean as she led the princess to the other end of the ship. The two spoke in hushed voices, their words were Wakandan.

Jean wondered if they knew that she could still understand what they were talking about. She may not know their language, but she knew their thoughts.

She moved her attention away from their conversation. Starting their relationship with eavesdropping was not going to build any trust. Although, judging by the way that the Dora Milaje kept watching her, Jean doubted that she had much of that now.

"My king, my princess," the Dora Milaje flying the ship—Okoye—said, "We are home."

Jean had hardly noticed that they were no longer over the ocean. When she looked out the window, the view took her breath away.

Ororo had told her about the beauty of Africa, but words could not do it justice. She watched with wide eyes as they passed over mountains and valleys, forests and fields. The people below were waving up at the ship as it flew overhead, and Jean was almost tempted to wave back.

Shuri let out a small gasp and jumped to her feet. She took the telepath's arm and pulled her up out of her seat, ushering her to the front of the ship. "You have to see this."

A vast jungle stretched across the rolling mountains. The canopy covered every inch of the ground.

Jean frowned. She could see no sign of civilization, and yet she could hear the unmistakable humming of countless thoughts.

Only then did she realize that the ship had begun to dip forward and fly straight toward one of the mountains. Jean's body started to stiffen, and her fingers tightened on the back the pilot's seat.

Shuri gripped her arm. "This is my favorite part," she said with a grin.

The girl's excitement made Jean relax somewhat, even as the trees rushed up towards them. Just as they were about to impact, the image of the trees flickered and disappeared.

Jean's jaw dropped. Stretched before them was a beautiful city with towering buildings.

"Welcome to Wakanda," T'Challa spoke.

When they neared the city, the ship dipped down to go to an underground hangar. Jean was a little disappointed as the skyline disappeared from view.

As they made their way through what appeared to be an underground lab, T'Challa turned to Jean. "Unofficially, you are here to help Sergeant Barnes."

"And officially?"

"You are here to help us with our growing mutant population."

Jean's eyebrows shot up. This was the first she had heard of this.

T'Challa offered her an apologetic smile. "We will speak more of that later. Right now, there are more important matters at hand."

"Like what?"

The king pointed past Jean, and she turned to follow his gaze.

Her jaw dropped for the second time that day. "That's Captain America."

There he was. Captain America. The living legend. The man that Jean had read about in textbooks as a child and news articles as an adult.

There were others worth noting, of course. Natasha Romanoff, the notorious assassin who took down the biggest spy agency in the world. Sam Wilson, the man who made himself into an Avenger. Wanda Maximoff, the girl whose power were even more unnatural than Jean's.

The gravity of the situation hit her. These were fugitives. They were actively on the run from the U.S. government. Seeing them on the news and being handed a file with their pictures was one thing. Actually seeing them in a secretive country's even more secret underground lab was another thing.

"They are waiting to meet you," T'Challa said.

"Me?"

Jean followed him into the room. The Avengers—ex-Avengers—turned to face her, and she became very self-conscious of her movements.

T'Challa motioned a hand to her. "This is Jean Grey."

"Ma'am." Steve Rogers stepped forward and held out a hand. "You're the telepath?"

"I am," Jean said, shaking his hand and standing just a little straighter.

I'm shaking Captain America's hand, she thought. If Scott were here, he would be freaking out.

At times, the X-Men had talked about hypothetical team-ups with the Avengers. Bobby was always the most animated about it, but, in his own calm way, Scott would buzz with almost childlike excitement during the discussions.

"So you read minds," Wanda spoke.

Jean hesitated before she nodded. "Yes."

The air shifted behind the telepath. She glanced back to see Black Widow regarding her. The assassin had yet to say anything.

It was faint, but Jean felt some suspicion from the spy. It was not the same explicit fear that she often felt from others. It was some hum of unease. Although, she supposed that someone with as many secrets as Natasha Romanoff would feel like that around someone who can read minds. Or maybe it was just how the spy felt around everyone.

Sam gave a hum. "Well, that's cool."

Jean let out a small laugh. "I'm glad you think so. Not everyone does."

"Yeah," Wanda murmured, looking down at the ground.

Steve turned to Shuri. "Are we ready to wake him up?"

"Yes, my team is prepping the pod now."

"Wait." Jean's eyes widened as everyone started toward a nearby lab. "We're waking him up now?"

"Yes." T'Challa paused and lagged behind the rest to walk alongside Jean. "I apologize for the short notice, but time is of the essence."

"Yeah, I got it. No problem." Jean tried to appear cool on the outside, but inside she was frazzled.

They were doing this now. This was happening.

They entered a room with scientists dressed in white bustling around. In the center of the lab was a tall capsule. A figure could just barely be made out through the frosted glass.

That's him.

Shuri moved to a holographic screen, scanning over the gauges and controls. The only thing that Jean could make sense of on the board was what looked like vital signs.

The princess tapped a few things until a red circle appeared. She looked around at the others in the room, her fingers hovering over the circle.

"Ready?"

Everyone nodded and gave a short "Ready, princess" before turning to face the capsule.

Jean stayed to the side of the room with Sam, Wanda, and Natasha while Steve moved to be closer to the pod.

Shuri pressed the red circle, and it turned green with a ping as the machinery hummed into action. The frost on the wall started to fade, and Jean could finally see Bucky's face.

He was sleeping, his face relaxed and his thoughts slow. It was like an odd version of Sleeping Beauty.

The capsule cracked opened with a hiss and the lid swung out. Bucky was perfectly motionless. Until his chest heaved with a deep breath of fresh air.

Jean felt Natasha and Sam tense beside her, and those around the pod shifted.

Barnes slumped forward, and two scientists rushed to catch him. Steve hovered around them, watching with his brows knit together.

At first Jean thought that Bucky was still unconscious, but his thoughts started speeding up.

His brow furrowed as his eyelids fluttered. The fingers of his hand slowly clenched into a fist. Bucky's eyes squeezed shut, and he muttered a low, "No."

It almost sounded more like a growl.

Bucky's mind echoed with voices, and Jean took a step back at the sound, but she did not block out the voices. This was something that she needed to hear.

His own voice. "No. Not again."

A deep, German voice. "Soldat."

An American voice. "Your work has been a gift to all mankind."

Steve's voice. "I'm with you 'til the end of the line."

The voices swam together, echoing into a strange mix of sounds and emotions.

His sagging body stiffened, and his voice gritted out a sharper "No."

Steve stepped forward and helped the scientists ease Bucky back against the pod, his hands resting on his shoulders. "Buck. Bucky, it's me. It's Steve. You're safe."

The voices in Bucky's voice grew quiet.

His eyes blinked open, and he squinted.

"Steve?" he said, his voice weak and hoarse. A ghost of a smile appeared on his face.

Steve smiled and nodded. "Yeah, it's me, Buck."

Bucky let out what sounded like a mix between a sigh of relief and a groan as he rubbed a hand across his face.

"Do you remember everything?" Steve asked.

Barnes nodded. "Yeah, I think so."

"Do you know where we are?"

He blinked a few times as his eyes trailed around the room. "Wakanda."

T'Challa stepped forward, his hands folded behind his back. "How do you feel?"

"The same," Bucky said with a shrug, "Why? Did you do any work on me while I was under? Should I feel any different?"

The king shook his head. "No, our work is just beginning."

T'Challa looked over at her, and Jean understood. This was why she was here. This was her work, her job.

The team helped Bucky onto the awaiting medical bed. Some held scanners near him to check his vitals, but he flinched away, not quite meeting anyone's eyes. Steve moved closer, talking to him in a calm, hushed voice.

Jean watched as Bucky reluctantly relaxed, looking down at where his left arm used to be.

He was afraid. That much was obvious. Even from across the room, Jean could feel it radiating off of him. But his thoughts had changed as he grew more aware of his surroundings.

At first, he was afraid of what these people would do to him. Now, he was afraid of what he would do to these people.

It reminded Jean of how she was after the Phoenix incident. She had rarely used her powers during that time, terrified of losing control again. She was almost afraid to touch anyone.

Watching Bucky shy away from the busy scientists, Jean felt her resolve build. He was just like the students that came to Xavier's, confused and scared, looking for help.

This man needed her help. And that was what she was going to give him. She was going to help him regain his identity.

Not the Winter Soldier.

Bucky Barnes.

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He's finally awake!

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