[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]

Bucky stares at him.

"Steve, I didn't -- "

It feels like every once-clear thought in his mind is crashing into every other one, shaking everything up and letting the pieces fall into a new pattern. Steve doesn't look upset, but he has to be sure.

"I knew you cared about her, I wouldn't, you know I wouldn't --"

[from_the_outside]

"I know you wouldn't," he agrees, with absolute faith. He's certain that Bucky would never have made any kind of move on someone he cared about if he thought Steve cared, too. He's never once questioned Bucky's loyalty to him, just like he hopes Bucky's never questioned Steve's for him. "That's one reason I had to be certain, both of how I felt and of how she felt. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if you stayed away from something that might make you happy because of me. You're my best friend, Buck."

He grins, suddenly. "And you've set me up on way too many dates for me to think you'd ever try to steal one away from me. But I promise, I don't feel that way about her. And I'm pretty sure she doesn't feel that way about me, either."

He's watching Bucky very closely now, trying to make sure Bucky can see the truth of everything he's saying, everything he feels, in his face. "The question is...how do you feel about her?"

He'd spent a lot of time this evening watching Bucky watch and react to Sharon, and watching Bucky very carefully keep himself from watching and reacting to Sharon. He's no expert, but he's pretty sure it all means something.

[nerves_of_ice]

He studies Steve's face carefully, and then the breath sighs out of him in a rush.

"I don't know," he admits. "I haven't let myself think about it."

Bucky shakes his head, his own expression shading both rueful and wry, and tells Steve, "Before Leipzig--"

Both times in Leipzig, in fact, but that's not the point.

"-- after Greece, I started to think maybe, maybe there could be a chance to at least see, if I wasn't such a mess. But then, well." He shrugs, as it's obvious what he means by that, and he knows Steve knows it.

"And I am a mess, Steve. I'm a wreck. You know it, I know it. I'm working on getting better, but I'm not there yet."

[from_the_outside]

Steve listens, and reaches to put his hand on Bucky's shoulder again, warm and supportive. "Maybe it's time to let yourself think about it," he suggests. "I know you're a work in progress, but you, the core of you? You're still right there. I can see you there, right now. And if she can, too, that's not something to push away."

It's his turn to get a little wry, but his eyes are absolutely sincere. "Take it from maybe the foremost expert in the world on waiting too long and letting a good thing get away: don't. You might not get another chance."

[nerves_of_ice]

One look at Steve's face, and Bucky shifts position to wrap his arm around Steve's shoulders for the first time in a very long time.

"You're a good friend, Rogers. The best," he says, quietly. A beat of silence. "Even if I still can't believe you flew all this way to try to set me up on a date."

[from_the_outside]

Steve's arm comes up around Bucky's back just as easy as it always used to, and he chuckles.

"Well, I've got a lot of set ups to pay you back for, pal." He pauses in a moment's thought, then laughs. "Hopefully this one works out better for you than any of those did for me."

[nerves_of_ice]

He huffs out an answering breath of laughter.

"They just didn't know what they were missing."

[from_the_outside]

"I like to think a few of them had some regrets," he says, airily, and grins.

"Come on. I gotta get in the air soon if I'm gonna make it back in time for curfew. But...just think about what I said, huh? And for God's sake, if you make her mad, make sure she's not anywhere near a gun."

[nerves_of_ice]

He laughs at that, and gives Steve a slight shake before letting go of him and turning back toward the flight pad.

"I'll remember," he promises. "And... I'll think about it."

[from_the_outside]

When was the last time he saw Bucky smile this much, heard him laugh this much? Steve's own grin flashes brilliantly in the dark as he pats his best friend's back and turns with him back towards the Citadel.

Too damn long ago. That's the answer. Bucky's right about being a mess, but he's just as right about the fact that he is – slowly but surely – getting better.

But even smugly pleased with his successes from the evening, saying goodbye, even just for now, feels like he's willingly chopping off his own hand. He gives Bucky a crushing hug on the flight pad and promises to be back as soon as he can, then extracts a similar promise for regular video calls before he finally turns away to head back into the Quinjet.

It's a little bit of a comfort to think that maybe he's not leaving Bucky alone here, though, as he lifts off and waves through the the bow viewport. He has friends here. Support. Help.

The thought makes him smile to himself for another hundred miles past Wakanda's border.

[nerves_of_ice]

He stays where he is on the edge of the flight pad while the Quinjet lifts off, and waves at Steve through the viewport before his friend turns the aircraft into the sky. He doesn't move as it picks up speed, watching as it goes from a jet to a drone to a dot in the darkness, then vanishes.

It's only after he hasn't been able to see anything at all for a good five minutes or more that he finally turns away and starts back to the lakeside hut. It's probably not worth trying to sleep, but he can at least try for a bit of rest before dawn.

[from_the_outside]

It's got to be about three in the morning when she hears the faint roar of the Quinjet taking off, and she realizes she hasn't managed to sleep at all.

She'd finally moved to the bed from the armchair at about one, but had just stared up at the ceiling with her thoughts in a tired tangle. And now she looks out the window to see the faint lights of the Quinjet blink into nothingness as Steve heads back to wherever he and Sam and Nat are holed up.

It must be three in the morning, because she makes all her worst decisions after two. That's what she tells herself, as she switches out camisole and shorts for a shirt and soft pants and leather sandals they might as well be slippers, but if she can't sleep, she may as well go and take a walk under the brilliant Wakandan night sky. At least out there, she won't feel so trapped with her thoughts, with the echo of Steve's voice in her head and the memory of his hand in hers.

She's almost out the door when she remembers – she'd never actually given Bucky the thing she got for him earlier. Glancing at the clock, she hems and haws for a moment before going to find the pants she wore earlier and taking the little package and slipping it into her new pocket.

If he's up, she can give it to him. If not...

Well, she may as well bring it anyway.

There's no one at all in the halls as she slips out, walking softly as a mouse, and heads for that wide open, star-speckled sky.

[nerves_of_ice]

The camera's still where he'd left it when he gets back to the hut. He picks it up and checks it over, confirming that it's unharmed. He figured it would be, but it doesn't hurt to be sure.

It probably isn't the best idea he's ever had to start a time-lapse photo at this hour of the night, but that doesn't matter. He wants to; wants to capture something that'll be a memory of this evening, and a photo of the sky over the field where he and Steve talked will do nicely.

He can even pretend that the Quinjet's there overhead somewhere, between the stars.

He carries the camera back outside, checks to make sure the lens is secure, then starts setting it up on the piece of wood he'd put in place earlier.

[from_the_outside]

She takes her time walking through the silent Citadel, and when she makes it outside, she pauses for a long moment to breathe deeply and look up at the star-dashed sky.

She's never seen so many stars, not even home in Virginia.

The night is cool but not cold, and the dew has started to collect on the grass. She gives up after ten or so steps, the leather of her sandals turning slick and slippery, and takes them off, dangling them from one hand as she continues her walk barefoot.

And even if she doesn't mean to go in a particular direction, she's not at all surprised when she finds herself walking up the hill that leads toward the lake and the little hut tucked close to a copse of trees nearby. Hopefully he's getting some rest, at least.

...a hope that's dashed when she starts her way slowly down the slope and sees a familiar tall figure, long legs stretched out near a stump of wood.

(She can't quite admit to herself that maybe this is what she was hoping for all along.)

"Can't sleep either, huh?"

In the stillness of the night, her voice carries just fine even when she's not trying to project.

[nerves_of_ice]

"Didn't try."

He stays where he is, but turns his head to look at her, bright in the darkness, starlight gleaming against the gold of her hair.

(He can almost hear Steve laughing.)

"I didn't want the night to be over yet."

[from_the_outside]

He doesn't tell her to go away, so she comes over to sit down next to him, setting her sandals down, looping her arms around her knees, and letting her toes work their way into the fresh-smelling grass.

"I'm glad you guys got to hang out for a bit."

She smiles at him over her shoulder. "I hope you got some time, just the two of you."

[nerves_of_ice]

"We did," he confirms, with a small answering smile. "It was good to see him. Good to catch up."

[from_the_outside]

She opens her mouth to respond, but a soft click grabs her attention instead, and she realizes for the first time that he has the new camera sitting propped on a few pieces of wood, pointed up at the sky.

"What's this?" she asks, her smile turning curious. "Night sky photos?"

[nerves_of_ice]

"Mm-hm. Time-lapse exposure."

He looks up at the sky.

"Point it north or south, the stars make a circle as they move. Point east or west, and it's more of a line."

[from_the_outside]

Time-lapse..."Oh!"

She lets go of her legs and straightens one so she can reach into her pocket. "That reminds me. I forgot to give this to you earlier."

The thing she hands him isn't in a box (she'd taken it out of the packaging – that's hard enough to do with two hands, let alone just one). It's a hexagonal piece of metal about the size of his palm, with a setting for a camera-sized object to be attached and an indented circle with an inner and outer ring on the top. The logo of the Wakanda Design Group gleams on one side. "You just..."

She puts the little thing down on the grass and presses the inner circle with the pad of her index finder, then smiles in satisfaction as three spindly legs grow from the bottom of the hexagon and it wobbles to standing. "And then –"

She rotates the outer circle the way the seller had shown her, and grins as the legs grow longer and the little tripod gets taller. "Ta-da!" When she looks at him, it's with the deeply satisfied expression of someone who knows she nailed it.

"For time lapses."

[nerves_of_ice]

Bucky stares at it in silence for several seconds.

"It's perfect."

It's perfect, and useful, and incredibly thoughtful, and he shouldn't be surprised that she would have sought it out for him. (He shouldn't.) He looks up from the tripod at her, eyes wide and dark in the dim light.

"Sharon. It's perfect. Thank you."

[from_the_outside]

"You're welcome."

Her pleased smile widens a little more, dimpling her cheeks. (She knew he'd love it.) "It gets pretty tall, too, so you can use it for all kinds of things. It just adds more legs for stability. The person at the booth showed me; you wouldn't believe how many legs this thing has tucked away in there."

A pause, as she thinks back. "Well, it has nine. I guess you probably would believe that."

The Wakanda Design Group. They're really something else.

[nerves_of_ice]

He grins, quick and bright.

"So a spider's worth, basically."

[from_the_outside]

That grin lights this whole place up like the sun's come up early. She laughs.

"They should have just called it that, honestly."

[nerves_of_ice]

"You never know. Some people don't like spiders."

He mimics what he'd seen her do, experimenting with the controls for the stand, changing height and adding and removing legs before he finally shrinks it back down into a disc again.

"I can't move the camera until it finishes with this series," he explains. "But I'll use it next time, count on it."