A little bit of life

Over the next few days, I started to acclimate to getting around Wakanda. I began working. King T'Challa wanted to start opening up Wakanda to the rest of the world, and I helped however I could. I worked in the global financial office he set up to facilitate those efforts, offering limited resources in exchange for those Wakanda didn't have access to.

This wasn't a short-term initiative. It would take years to build and implement. When questioned at the UN, the king made it clear that Wakanda wouldn't be throwing open its borders. This was a political trade strategy, designed to improve diplomatic relations—not an invitation.

Unsurprisingly, the first thing on everyone's wish list was Vibranium. They wanted it exported, distributed. King T'Challa refused. Vibranium was sacred, unique to Wakanda. He had no intention of allowing it to become the catalyst for another world war.

The work kept me busy. I grew close to the king, to Shuri, and even Ayo. She took it upon herself to help me train, sharpening my skills with a quiet discipline.

"You must always be ready to fight," she told me one day. Something in me knew she was right.

I visited Bucky often. Since I worked in the palace sometimes, it became easier. At first, I'd fall asleep in the lab next to him by accident. Then it just became habit. Shuri eventually stopped commenting. Some mornings, she'd leave tea or coffee next to me.

Days turned to weeks. Weeks into months.

But still, no change.

Shuri was trying everything she could, but wiping away seven decades of memory damage and brainwashing was no small feat. Even with her brilliance, it was her first time tackling something like this. And this was a mind that had been fractured and rebuilt too many times to count.

I said I would wait, and I meant it. But a part of me was scared.

What if he wakes up and doesn't recognize me?

Not because of the brainwashing. Because I've aged.

We don't know how long this will take. He's frozen in time, paused in the cradle.

I'm not, I'll keep changing.

Sleeping peacefully. I wonder if he dreams. He used to have nightmares so vivid it shook the room. But now... he looks so calm. Like none of it ever happened.

One day, in passing, I asked, "Shuri, do you have another cradle?"

She glanced up from her work. "Yes. I have a few for emergencies. They're designed to treat life-threatening injuries while keeping someone stable. Why?"

I looked straight at her.

"That is not a good idea," she said, already sensing where this was going. She set down her tools.

"Why not? I could go under too. Then I wouldn't have to age or fade away before he wakes up."

She sighed deeply. "These weren't designed for long-term stasis. His cradle was modified for it. But even then, there are risks. For someone without enhancements, extended time in one of these can cause severe muscle deterioration, cognitive degradation, even death."

"What?! Then why—why is he in one?" My voice cracked with panic. "Why would you let him?"

"Elizabeth." She stepped closer, her tone firm but kind. "Bucky knew the risks. But his are far lower. He's been through this before. His body has adapted. He's a super soldier, his resilience is extraordinary. Your body, your brain, wouldn't survive it. The longest I'd ever recommend for someone like you would be maybe a month and only if you had severe injuries."

I couldn't stop my hands from trembling. I thought this was safe. That everyone agreed this was the best way. But for who?

He's risking his life so we feel safe. So he doesn't hurt anyone else.

I was angry—at everyone. At Hydra. At his friends. At myself. If I'd been home that day, maybe we could have run. Maybe Zemo wouldn't have gotten to him.

I spent the rest of the day tormented by what-ifs and maybes. Things that could have been different.

I read Bucky's letter again and again. The only thing that calmed me. The reminder that this, all of this, was his choice. His free will. And how could I be mad at him for that? If I were, I'd be no better than those who once controlled him.

Months passed.

It had been a little over a year now.

Steve came to visit a few times. I think Shuri told him I was struggling. He offered to fly me somewhere in the Quinjet, just to clear my head. But I never took him up on it. Hard to enjoy a vacation when both of you are fugitives.

Some of the other avengers had taken deals in exchange for parts of their old lives. Steve hadn't.

I had finally finished that old puzzle book Bucky had given me. I tried to stretch it out, piece by piece. It was all I had to feel close to him. Sometimes I'd feel the temptation to open his notebook, to peek inside that darker past. But I never did. Those were fragments of a version of him he didn't want me to meet.

Ayo was good at keeping me distracted. She'd beat me senseless in training, leaving me too sore and breathless to dwell in my head. Like today.

I swung my spear, and she moved like a shadow, effortless. I was practically in slow motion. A moment later, she swept my legs out from under me, and I landed hard on the vibranium flooring.

"Ring ring."

"What the hell?" I blinked.

"Your beads." Ayo pointed at my wrist.

I still hadn't gotten used to phone calls on this tech. Only Shuri, Ayo, and the King ever contacted me.

I started smacking at the beads, trying to answer. I probably looked like a toddler whacking a toy. Ayo burst out laughing.

"Call declined," the voice said.

"Oh no—wait—who was it?" I shouted at the beads like they were going to talk back.

Ayo, still laughing, turned hers on and placed a call.

"Hello, Ayo. Are you with Elizabeth?" It was Shuri's voice.

"Yes, your highness."

"Bring her to the lab. Quickly."

I was on my feet before the call ended. I bolted, cartoon-style, practically leaving smoke behind me.

We were already near the lab, just a short train ride. My heart was thudding so loud I thought the whole train could hear it. I was spiraling.

What if he'd been in the cradle too long? What if there was damage? Or worse, what if she was giving up?

I prayed for the first time I think ever. To any and all deity I could think of. Even threw Thor in just for good measure.

When we arrived, Shuri was standing at her desk.

"What happened? Is he okay?" I blurted.

"Calm down. He's better than okay. I was finally able to isolate the neuro-synaptic override pathways in his hippocampus and restructure the corrupted mnemonic triggers using a vibranium-based synaptic dampener. Then—"

"Shuri," I interrupted, "I'm math smart. Not whatever you just said. Is. He. Okay?"

She giggled. "Yes. I've begun the process to wake him. Because of the long-term modifications, the cradle needs forty-eight hours to decompress. But it's started."

She pointed at the cradle now sitting in the center of the lab. A screen displayed a countdown.

My knees buckled and I dropped to the floor. "Oh, thank God."

Tears ran freely down my cheeks. I had never felt so relieved and joyful at the same time.

"So… he'll be, okay?" I asked, still breathless.

"Yes. The control mechanisms are gone. We'll need to test, of course. And he may have some memory gaps, but those should come back with time."

She crouched beside me, her hand resting on my shoulder.

"I was going to stay here until he wakes to monitor him" she said. "Want to join me?"

"Yeah. Hell yes. I'm not going anywhere."