reader was a highly skilled neuropsychologist who worked for what used to be SHIELD. a couple days after the bombing in vienna, her friend and coworker, sharon carter, asks a favor of her: to relocate to wakanda in order to help treat and rehabilita...
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Light did not shine through the windows and cast a bronze glow on the floor like it did in the castle quarters. He didn't hear the soft buzz of the cicadas like he usually did in the morning. He didn't wake to an empty room with familiar beautiful Wakandan tapestries.
This was because Bucky Barnes awoke in an underground shelter with no windows, stone reinforced walls, and a sleeping psychologist in the bed next to him. Somehow... this wasn't so bad.
He woke up before her, as to be expected. His body was pretty much programmed to be up in the early morning. That, and any time he slept for too long his mind conjured up remnants of horrors from the past.
The super soldier stood up from the bed and stretched his back and arm. It was quiet. A relaxed, enjoyable quiet. Y/N was still sleeping. He wondered what time it was. He didn't have a watch, and he didn't see any clocks in the bunker. He assumed she probably had her phone, but he wouldn't wake her just to ask the time.
He glanced around the room, and his eyes landed on the panther key. Perhaps he could go outside for a bit, gauge the time, scope out the area, get some sun. He never was overly enthusiastic about the sun, but since being in Wakanda, he had grown to love the warmth.
Warmth was a welcome change from the brutalizing cold Hydra put in his bones. Cold was past agony and torment, but warmth. Warmth was the rich, golden promise of remedy that gleamed on his skin.
Just thinking about it made him yearn for the outside sun and the way it enveloped his skin in amber rays. It felt safe here.
Usually, he couldn't stop his mind from worrying and expecting all the good in his life to somehow crash down around him. However, he couldn't help but feel safe in Wakanda, no matter what he did. He felt safe in Wakanda and with Y/N, even though they were in a bunker hiding from a country's takeover-
"Bucky?" A quiet voice called out.
He turned around, not realizing he had walked over to the table, where the panther key was sitting. It looked just as regal and ferocious as it did before.
"G'Morning," he smiled.
She sat up on her elbows, avoiding hitting her head on the top bunk.
"How'd you sleep?" she asked.
"Last night wasn't bad," he shrugged.
"Nightmares still?"
"Still... there, but I got some decent hours in."
"That's good," she yawned. "I'd like to work more on the nightmares soon. See if we can find any improvement. But don't worry, no 'Interpretation of Dreams' shit because I refuse to dignify most Freudian theories."
