This Is Stella's Reality

March 11, 2015 PT. 3

He smiled then and held my face with his hands. Thank you. He pulled my lips towards him and kissed me. My heart swelled. He was safe now. Truly safe.

We joined the others outside. Dusk was settling over the horizon, painting the sky in deep blues, indigos, and violets. They had gathered some branches and leaves for kindling and created a makeshift bonfire.

Steve handed Bucky the book and a lighter. Thor produced his flask of Asgardian alcohol. I watched as Bucky stared at the book one last time, tossed it over the branches, poured Thor's liquor over it, and lit the flames.

My eyes were glued to the burning pages that blackened and crippled under the heat. Safe. Bucky wrapped his arm around me and kissed my forehead as he stared into the flames.

Finally, I touched his mind. Relief flooded from him like a river overflowing. He thought about the life ahead of him. Everything he could do now that the book was destroyed and Hydra had fallen. At last, he could be happy.

I smiled as I looked up at him. He met my eyes. The sparkle in the blue of his irises had returned. I leaned my head to his chest and looked down to my hands. The vision of the dripping black ink my magic had become was still clear in my mind. A shiver ran up my spine, and Bucky's arm tightened around me.

On the quinjet, Bucky held me in his lap. We were all mostly silent, only the occasional whisper of conversation hit my ears. I didn't mind; all I wanted was to sit with Buck and coax him into relaxation.

The next few days passed by in a dream of exhausted sleep, ignoring reporters, and paperwork addressing the fall of SHIELD and the Avengers Initiative becoming a sole Stark Industry's project.

Bucky and I fell into a rhythm. We took meals in our room, cuddled, slept, watched TV, and ignored the outside world. Time didn't feel real. The sun rose over the horizon and blinded our eyes early in the morning, the moon showed her silvery round complexion, and stars rotated in the night sky. That was the only concept of reality I had in those few days after returning to the compound.

Eventually, Steve knocked on our door. He stood, sullen as I answered and held his eyes. "May I come in?" He asked after a period of silent staring.

I nodded and let him in. He stood at our coffee table, shifting his weight around. Bucky was in between being awake and asleep. His eyes stared at Steve with half-interest. Drowsy, he didn't move or offer Steve any sort of greeting.

They stared at each other for a while before Steve spoke again. "I thought we did all of that so you could finally live the life you never got to." Steve's words were harsh, but his tone was fair. He was stating a fact.

Bucky huffed and turned back towards the pillows and shut his eyes. He just wanted to be left alone. Steve persisted, "The team's been worried about you two." He watched Bucky for a moment. Neither of them moved. He sighed, exasperated. "Buck, I know I can't even begin to understand, but"

"Stop," Bucky snapped. "You can't understand. Nobody will ever understand. I tried to kill the love of my life. And I remember it. I remember watching her face gasp for air, the feeling of her windpipe nearly crushing between my fingers." He couldn't look at me. There were tears welling in his eyes and heat turning his cheeks red.

I sat beside him on the bed, and he collapsed onto me. His head fell into my lap, and I stroked the curls of his hair, soothing the pain away from him. I wondered if I could do the same trick I had used on the bridge.

Carefully, I swirled magic between my fingertips and pressed his temples. I concentrated on his pain, the hurt he felt, regret, trauma, guilt, all of the malic he held towards himself. His features softened, relaxing under my touch. He sighed, and melted against my frame.

Steve watched with amazement. "How did you do that?" He asked.

I didn't know. I thought about Loki's scepter. It had given me these new abilities that I was learning more about every day. I needed to learn more about the powers it held. Perhaps Thor would know.

"It happened on the bridge," I supplied. "It's how I snapped him out of being the Winter Soldier."

"The flower field," Bucky mumbled. It was like he was in a trance.

Steve gave me a quizzical look. I smiled down at Bucky's relaxed face. "I think I fell into his subconscious. It was like he was dreaming. We were in a flower field, and I asked him to come home. Then we woke up on the bridge, and he was himself again."

"You really are something," Steve said with wonder. He stepped forward and smoothed my hair from my face. "Will we see you two at dinner tonight?" He gave me a small, hopeful smile.

I nodded, "It's our job to take care of him, so if I have to drag him out of this room myself, I will." Steve laughed at this and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of my head. I smiled up at him. "Thanks for checking on us."

"Anytime, Stel," he said and turned on his heel to leave.

I looked down at Bucky's sleeping form. He had drifted off to his dream world. Gently, I touched the swirling thoughts behind his eyes. We were sitting in that flower field again, sticking our toes into the trickling stream that cut through the hills. Tadpoles skidded across our feet, and we screamed with laughter as their slick bodies tickled us.

A smile pulled at my lips. Bucky would be fine. We would be fine.