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Epilogue

Two years passed.

Two years of living in Wakanda. Two years of living with the fact that Bucky was truly gone.

It was practically impossible at first. Y/n was an inconsolable wreck for a long time, completely shut out to the rest of the world. However, T'Challa always told her that it was better for her to mourn than to completely shut down, and, as painful as it was, he was right.

It was better to be drowned by the grief than to completely ignore it. The grief was never going to go away. It was something that would linger in her heart until the day she died. But there was a difference between healing and avoiding.

T'Challa, Shuri, and the Dora Milaje were there with y/n through everything. Whether it be talking to each other through a door, going out to get breakfast to make sure that she ate, training, or even designing new tech with Shuri. They were there every step of the way.

The transition back to normality was a tough one, especially because Wakanda had been like a second home to y/n and Bucky. Everywhere she looked, there was a memory of him. But, with T'Challa's help, she learnt to embrace those memories instead of avoiding them. It was like a lingering smile from Bucky, and that smile soon started to appear on y/n.

Between training with T'Challa and the Dora Milaje, y/n worked at one of the many market stalls. She'd taken the time to properly learn how to cook, and she was getting good at it. Yes, it was a lot of hard work, but y/n loved how busy every day was. There'd never be a day where she wouldn't fall asleep with a smile on her face.

Of course, her tradition of telling stories to the village children carried on. They were all so excited to greet her once y/n was ready to start returning to 'normal' life. Telling stories was really hard at first, especially because her favourite part was always the fact that Bucky used to watch with as much interest as the children did. But, she pushed through it. She'd tell her stories no matter what, even if there were tears in her eyes.

Y/n was grateful for everybody. Without the children, village elders, T'Challa, Shuri, and the Dora Milaje, y/n was sure that she'd still be in a deep pit of sorrow. They were the light that kept her together, and she was stronger because of it.

*****

Today was the second anniversary of both Bucky and Natasha's deaths.

It was a raw, rough day. It was last year, and it felt the exact same this year. But, y/n had decided to make it tradition to travel to America and visit their graves.

T'Challa accompanied her for obvious reasons, but he made sure to keep his distance. This was y/n's time to reflect and mourn, and there was no way he was going to impose on that. He still visited his own father's grave, so he knew how important it was.

The first grave that y/n visited was Bucky's. It was a slow, painful walk across the grass to his grave, but there was no way in hell she was going to turn around. She wanted to talk to him, to tell him how well she was doing and what he'd missed. And, except for T'Challa in the distance, y/n had the graveyard to herself. It was nice. She didn't have to worry about anyone recognising her and bugging her on an already rough day.

That was something she hadn't missed about living in America. Everybody recognising her as an 'Avenger' and a 'hero'. They never had any care about what she was doing, they just wanted a photo or an autograph. Hell, y/n used to love taking photos with people. But that was before her life fell apart and she realised that the hero business wasn't really for her anymore.