Back To Brookes // back to barnes bk2

19: good to be home

That next morning, through a set of cars, boats, and aircraft (all courtesy of King T'Challa), we made our way to Wakanda. We packed light, all three of us saying goodbye to DC for what looked like forever. It was fine if I didn't think too hard, Bucky and I hadn't known home before, just hiding places, a temporary refuge, "a place to lie low," until the next one came around. As I sat in the third boat my ass had been on that day, staring out over the horizon at the rising sun and leaning into my sleeping husband's side, I understood why that was never an issue for us. I was home with him, and he with me. It was hard to focus on a little cottage in the woods with big spindly trees and open windows and rooms full of plants and fresh air and natural light where you could dance and watch babies take their first steps when you were fighting to stay alive every damn day.

In all those years, fighting for Bucky, for myself, I had never dreamt of it.

But I had caught myself thinking of it then, of a little house and the open ocean in our backyard, of ending the day with a baby and the love of your life with you. I wondered if Bucky ever thought of a house like that, a life like that. I wondered if, between the day of his birth and the day he lost himself, if he'd ever imagined a life where that was possible. Only time would tell if Wakanda would be just a place to catch our breath, or a place to breath easy for a while.

I exhaled in a huff, folding my arms to keep warm as the brisk ocean air hovered around us. It felt good, it eased the nausea I'd been feeling all morning. Steve held up a conversation with the ship's Wakandan captain, just quiet enough to let his best friend stay asleep. I fell asleep not soon after.

The next few weeks flew by. Wakanda was more beautiful than we had imagined, but we had to energy to explore for some time. Steve, Bucky, and I stayed in the palace with the King, his mother the Queen, and the Princess. Bucky and I stayed in a spacious room that overlooked the luscious green below. The room was black marble, floor to high ceiling; the furniture was mostly black and gold; the frame of the king-sized four-poster bed that sat inside the balcony was made of pure gold, the sheets were the softest black silk I'd ever felt. We found no issues with the stability of said gigantic lush gold open-balcony bed, and the tests we put it through were not light ones.

Steve spent his time trying to play it cool with a woman in the Dora Milaje named Chanté. He struck out, which was a totally new concept for a man that looked like Captain America but not for a guy who thought like Steve. I'm pretty sure it's because he used the line "Hey sugar, are you rationed?" It's fine, he had said over his coffee in the grand dining hall one morning, she has a job to do and I respect that. He smiled politely. When he wasn't being sad that a beautiful woman had rejected him, he was training in T'Challa's world-class facility or walking through the vast and paradisiac city, reading on his balcony or shooting the shit with Bucky in the expansive museum-like hallways of the palace.

Not one of us had spoken a word of what we had left behind. It wasn't brought up, we weren't confronted with it via Hydra agents in a banquet hall basement or on the streets outside of a tattoo parlor. We just existed.

I did end up talking to Bucky about the future.

"You know I've thought about it, Maisie Jo." He lulled, looking at me from the grand marble bathroom as he dressed and I sat on a black velvet chaise lounge. I was dressed in black crepe de chine slip and sipping on my hundredth glass of coconut water, which is all I'd been wanting to drink the entire time we'd been there. I was at the height of luxury. In a weird "it will never be better than this" way, I'd never wanted to kill myself more.

"Well then tell me what you think about," I craned my head against the armrest to see his ass as he leaned against the sink.

I could hear a faint chuckle. He came out of the bathroom and walked over to the balcony. His step was so light. I watched him look out into the trees, his arm propping him against the luxurious balustrade with a lovesick, adoring look in my eye before I got up and joined him. I slid up right next to him, my right shoulder to his still-armless left one. The cool breeze felt calming against my face. The air was so clean and smelled faintly of fruit.

"Do you think-" He started, furrowing his brow and looking at me for a brief moment. "Do you think this is it? Actually no, let me rephrase that." He turned to me and ever so gently took my cheek in his hand. His eyes were so bright; I'd never seen his eyebrows as unpinched as they were right there. He was healthy and calm. "Let me rephrase that. This is it. We're home."

"What about-"

"We can be free if we wanted to be. Free at last, my love. Wakanda could be home. We deserve that. You, my beautiful bride, deserve that. What if we chose that? What if we shut the door on running and hiding and fighting and never being able to take a full breath. We could live here. We could have our beautiful one-armed purple babies here. Do you understand how much I want to see the love of my life waddle around with this big ol' baby bump, carryin' my baby?" He laughed as I began to laugh. "Baby girl, I can't do it anymore. This fightin' life isn't for me. I have spent too long fighting for my life, and I can't do it anymore. I want you and a life with you and a little baby to carry in one of those sling things while you and I walk on the beach as the sun sets. I want to live the life I've wanted since I was just a dumb lil' rugrat eating dry slices of bread for every meal and taking turns shielding my ma and Stevie from men twice their size and I-" He inhaled deeply, just looking into my eyes. "I want you to live that life with me."

I softly, joyfully wept. His thumb wiped away my tears. The rising sun illuminated my knight in rusty armor with a soft glow, for a fleeting moment I wondered if I had died and gone to Heaven.

"What do you say, sweetheart?" He asked, his smile big and more beautiful than all of Wakanda itself.

My smile echoed his, full of life. I could breathe. "I think that can be arranged."

He leaned in and kissed me. It was soft and sweet, he smiled into it. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held him close, breathing in this sense of safety and peace we'd never had before. He leaned back, leaving a trail of excited kisses across my cheeks like the freckles I'd never try to cover up. "I'll make this life worth living, Maisie Jo."