[oom] something in my mind freezes up from time to time

[from_the_outside]

She hardly has any time to protest when Nakia appears like a vengeful storm sweeping into Shuri's lab and hauls Sharon away like a child who has snuck out of bed.

"Nakia –!"

"I will return her once she is ready," Nakia tells Shuri, who looks like she's barely holding back laughter, and then drags Sharon down the short corridor to the train platform, tapping out an order on her Kimoyo beads as she does.

"Do I get to know what's going on?" Sharon complains, and Nakia gives her a flat look.

"Stretch your arms up as high as you can," she commands, and when Sharon hesitates snaps: "Well?"

Annoyed, Sharon does as requested, but can only get her left arm about halfway up before wincing and letting it drop again. "As I thought," Nakia says, patronizing, and ushers her onto the train.

What follows is a series of tests and scans Sharon submits to with poor grace. "I'm fine!" she protests. "It's been six weeks!" But the Wakandan doctors either don't believe her or are too scared of Nakia to ignore her orders, and Sharon finds herself on the business end of a needle or two and several strangely warm lights that do something uncomfortable to the ribs she'd broken and then re-broken.

"Why does it hurt more now?" she complains, and Nakia smiles peaceably. "Because you did not take care of them before and now they must heal properly. You will be fine tomorrow or the day after."

And whatever arguments Sharon makes, she refuses to hear.

---

Nakia keeps her resting for the remainder of the day, feigning deafness when Sharon asks about going either to the lab or to see Bucky, and the evening and night pass without incident. She does manage to see him the next day, but it's brief: Nakia had swept in shortly after sun-up with coffee and breakfast and informed Sharon she would be taking her to meet several of the different tribes. And that it would likely take all day.

So Sharon contents herself with waving to Bucky from a distance as she and Nakia pass by: the children must have been freed from their lessons because they're clamoring around him. She meets a slew of people whose names she tries her best to remember and returns to the Citadel that evening with a few colorful braided and beaded bracelets around her wrist and several yards of beautiful cloth one of the village women had pressed on her. She doesn't know what to do with it; Nakia takes it with a secretive smile and promises to find a purpose.

But the next morning, she's up and out before Nakia can show up with plans again: the doctors had said she would be fine today, and she has somewhere she needs to be. After she's made use of the coffee maker she'd wheedled out of the kitchen staff, showered, and changed, she's heading down the halls of the Citadel to the station.

Shuri had said first thing. They may already be there.

Comments

[nerves_of_ice]

"Usually. They've got their own money - the Wakandan dollar, but..." He shrugs. "They've also got an advanced currency exchange system. Like everything else."

There's a train waiting at the platform when they arrive, on a different track than the one that goes to the Citadel. He leads the way to it and leans against an empty wall space, as usual.

"I've got local money, if you want."

[from_the_outside]

"I'm good."

She hardly notices when the train starts up underfoot; they're so smooth here.

And she's watching him. "You know, if you need some time alone to...process, I can find my own way around. That got pretty intense. I'd get it if you'd rather not be around a bunch of people right now."

Or he might prefer it. She really has no idea.

[nerves_of_ice]

He's quiet for almost a full minute, as they pass through the mining area and out of Mount Bashenga into the daylight.

"If that's what you'd prefer," he says, finally.

[from_the_outside]

She frowns at that. "It's not."

He should know that by now, surely. It's not like she's made any secret of her preferred company.

He's leaning against the wall; she leaves her spot and goes to lean on her shoulder next to him, so she can look up at him, sincere and a little bemused. "I'd rather you come with me. I didn't get a chance to see you at all yesterday."

[nerves_of_ice]

"Then I will."

He glances down at her when she settles beside him, studying her expression carefully.

"I thought maybe you'd rather I didn't. Like you said, that was...well. And you had a lot to take in from the other day, too, so--"

He breaks off there and shrugs.

[from_the_outside]

That frown flickers again, and she shakes her head. "Why would you think that?"

It's a lot. It's all been...a lot. But she knew that even before she had all the details, and she's still here.

Like she said: she's not giving up. "I like being with you. Even when it's complicated."

Which is good, because she's pretty sure it's not going to get uncomplicated anytime soon.

[nerves_of_ice]

He shrugs again, and doesn't answer that. Any of that. Do not be careless with her rings in his ears.

Instead, very quietly, he says,

"Don't be angry with Natasha. For not telling you." Bucky slants a look at her. "She didn't, I assume?"

[from_the_outside]

"I–"

Whatever she was expecting, it wasn't this, and it takes her a second to find her voice. "No, she didn't, but I – it's none of my business."

It's none of her business. Everyone has someone, or someones, from before, and they're not even – it's not like she has a right to –

"I'm not angry." It feels like the one safe thing she can say. "Not with Rome. Not with...anyone."

[nerves_of_ice]

He nods, and looks out the window.

"She may not even remember," he says, then corrects himself. "I don't know how much she remembers."

[from_the_outside]

Oh. Good. They're talking about this now. And if she never has to see him look wistfully out a window while thinking about her friend again, that would be great.

But it seems like luck isn't going her way today. She closes her eyes with a brief sigh, then steels herself to look back at him, expression careful. "You could ask."

It seemed...important. The kind of important that comes from shared experience that she...doesn't have with him. Not yet.

(Maybe not ever.) "I'm sure Steve would be happy to put her on a call for you."

[nerves_of_ice]

He shakes his head, then glances back at her.

"She knows how to reach me." He sounds calm about it, and he's glad of that. It's even true. "From what she said in Berlin, whatever she remembers, it's enough to ask, if she wants."

Bucky straightens as the train begins to slow, approaching a more populated area.

"It was a long time ago. We're different people now."

[from_the_outside]

She almost asks what did she say in Berlin? but decides she doesn't want to know.

The train's beginning to slow down, but she's not ready to jump off this topic yet, now that he's broached it. Even though she knows she'll hate herself for it. "Maybe she's waiting for you to call her."

It's not the same thing he's been doing to her about Steve, she argues to herself. There's only potential with Steve, not past. "Maybe she still...feels the same way."

Maybe Sharon will find a hole big enough to jump into and disappear so she never has to think about this ever again. Anything is possible.

[nerves_of_ice]

A soft, wry chuckle escapes him.

"Now that she knows where I am, if she did, I'd already have gotten an earful from her."

[from_the_outside]

She finds a smile from somewhere and tugs it onto her face. "I'm sure."

It doesn't last long, flickers out when she looks away, but the train is pulling into the station and she uses that as cover, heading to the door before it slides open and trying to ignore the way her stomach keeps knotting.

It's none of her business. And she has no right to be...whatever this is. Jealous? Anxious? Surely any lingering feelings he has for Natasha should be the least of her worries. God knows there's enough for her to wrestle with already without adding more. "How far is the market?"

It's not her best segue, but it has the benefit of being pertinent.

[nerves_of_ice]

"Not too far," he assures her, as he joins her on the platform and casts an assessing eye over the streets. There aren't that many people today, relatively speaking, which is fortunate. If he's careful, everything should be fine.

"The end of this main street and over two is the nearest one. It's a little smaller than the main one in the central city, but--"

Bucky looks sideways at her.

"-- or would you rather check that one out instead?"

[from_the_outside]

"No, this one is fine."

Her smile still feels a little off; she tugs it towards rueful and finds a convincing reason for it. "I've been a little nervous of large crowds and cities since going on the run, anyway."

She might be safe here, but her lizard brain remains unconvinced.

[nerves_of_ice]

"I know the feeling. Come on."

He touches her on the shoulder, very lightly, to steer her in the right direction.

"Just remember here, if people are staring, it's not likely going to be because they know you're in hiding."

Bucky smiles.

"And this time you're a tourist for real."

[from_the_outside]

"What? Why will they be staring? I don't want to be stared at!"

But it's a pretty minimal protest and she has no defense against that light touch on her shoulder, just gravitates a half-step towards him like an iron filing haplessly dragged to a magnet.

People do stare. She wishes she had her trusty tote bag with her; something to grip, something to keep between herself and interested strangers, and she knows he's right, it's not because they're comparing her face to one on a wanted poster. It's because she's white and blonde and new and something of a novelty – and she's walking with the White Wolf, a point of interest himself. She's grateful when they get to a series of stalls and hawkers and she can focus on something other than how out of place she is here.

[nerves_of_ice]

The more tense she gets in the crowd, the more he does too, and it takes some work to remind himself that they're not in danger here.

(Well. Not more than in any crowd; not more than any normal civilian would be, which in and of itself is much less in Wakanda.)

He forces his muscles to relax and moves with deliberately careful ease. As they reach the edge of the market and Sharon starts looking at the wares displayed in the first few stalls, he spies something.

It's the work of only a moment to have a quick discussion with the weaver just two stalls away, especially when he points out who it's for. Bucky carries his purchase back and drapes it over Sharon's shoulders.

"Here. This may help."

The light, airy cape is all browns and creams blended with the golden-and-bright shades of the Wakandan sunset, and it has a hood that will let her hide her face and hair, if she chooses.

[from_the_outside]

She starts a little at the sensation of something falling over her shoulders, but relaxes when she lifts her hands to find light, soft fabric and turns her head to see him behind her. Offering him a quick, grateful look, she tugs the hood up over her head and lets out a deep breath.

It really does help. "Thanks. Sorry." She makes a moue with her hands, shaking her head in the hood. "I've gotten so jumpy."

Again, something he understands, and she gives him a wry smile before turning her attention to the cloak he'd brought, running the fabric between her fingers. "Bucky, this is beautiful."

She looks up at him again and reaches to briefly squeeze his hand, her smile stronger. "Thank you."

Like she said. He's always so good to her.

She can focus a little more now, and she looks around with the beginnings of what is probably a familiar interested expression. "There's really a little of everything here, isn't there?"

[nerves_of_ice]

"Figured you'd like it better than a baseball cap," he observes, dryly. "Yes. There is. Wakanda's a pretty amazing place."

[from_the_outside]

"I don't know," she says, a little archly. "I'm very cute in a baseball cap."

But the cloak does what she needs it to do, which is to create even a slight boundary between her and peering, interested eyes, and she relaxes quickly once it's become clear not as many people are looking.

They still are, but she can keep her head in the hood and ignore them for the most part, and that's almost as good as being totally anonymous. She can feel free to peruse the stalls and chat with the sellers, all of whom are friendly and curious and more than happy to let her exclaim over their various wares.

And there are plenty of fruit stalls. Maybe she will get some snacks for her room.

[nerves_of_ice]

For his part, he hangs back as a near-silent escort, offering his opinion when it's asked and otherwise ensuring she's not jostled in the crowd of an increasingly busy mid-morning market.

It's both harder and easier than he thought it might be, but he thinks he's handling it okay. As they round one corner, he catches sight of three of the Dora Milaje doing a little wandering of their own, and they trade nods.

[from_the_outside]

One of the stall owners helpfully changes a twenty euro bill for her when she buys some dried fruits and roasted nuts, and she folds the new Wakandan money into her pocket with thanks before turning to find Bucky.

He's running interference, she realizes; hanging slightly back like a bodyguard, not unlike that night in Leipzig.

She smiles without noticing why, and cocks her head at him. "Do you need anything while we're here?"

[nerves_of_ice]

"No," he says, honestly. "I don't need anything."

He doesn't. Any of the things he's thought of so far would be a frivolous purchase.

"Are you finding everything okay?"