Hiding Winter | Stucky

Steve: Chapter 2

beep, beep, beep
Steve woke up to the sound of his alarm clock. Like most people, he felt glued to his bed, but he sat up anyways and shut his alarm clock off. He looked over at his night stand and saw a piece of paper the size of a sticky note. He picked it up and and began to read it:
Steve,
You may want to buy some more tea.
-Nat
He place the note back onto his nightstand, sighed, then got up and walked over to his door and left his room. As he walked out and shuffled across the hall, he saw Wanda and Sam sitting in the living area watching TV. Apparently some doctor was found in an odd outfit in... Hong Kong? Strange. Steve then continued to walk across the hardwood floors, hearing the slight creak with each step he took.
Steve wanted to go outside again. He wanted to see everything starting to turn orange and red, all the animals getting ready to hibernate. Everyone in the facility rarely got to go outside. Fury was thinking about letting them get out a little bit here and there since Secretary Ross wasn't really hunting them too much anymore. Since there weren't any sightings of them, and Ross had nothing to go off of, there was no way they could find the crew. Steve had told Tony where they were located, and he trusted him not to tell anyone. As far as he knew, Tony hadn't told another soul, except for Natasha, of course. However, Tony was completely unaware of where Bucky was located. T'Challa, Steve, and some doctors that froze Bucky back in Wakanda were the only ones that knew where he was. Not even the rest of the team, not even Natasha. T'Challa made a deal with Steve and Bucky that he would check up on him weekly while he was still in cryo just to make sure everything was alright. There was an elite team of doctors and scientists doing research and keeping an eye on Bucky so they could figure out how to get the brainwashed part of his brain back to normal.
Steve looked around the kitchen searching for his phone. He then walked to the office room to figure out where his phone was located. He spotted it and picked it up slowly. As he looked at it, he saw two voicemails in his inbox. Guess who? T'Challa. After Steve gave Tony a private cell phone to contact him on, he also gave one to every member of Team Cap just in case, and T'Challa. He eagerly put his phone up to his ear and listened as the voicemails. The voice of T'Challa gave him goosebumps as he awaited any news.

Hello, Captain Rogers. I have some pleasant news regarding your friend, James. Some of my best doctors, and more specifically my sister, have been working on a project that will extract any brainwashed Hydra technology that has been installed into his hippocampus, amygdala, and other areas of the frontal lobe. The surgery would be approximately 7-9 hours long, and Shuri, my sister, will be performing the surgery. If you have any concerns, please contact me, as I am free to disclose any of them. I look forward to speaking to you soon. Oh, and I forgot, the surgery will be in a week if everything goes as planned. Beep

Steve felt like his heart had just stopped, everything around him slowing down. He zoned out, slowly having the noises around him dissipate. He knew that Bucky would be coming back, but how soon? Now he knew. He walked out of the office and into the kitchen once more. He placed his cell phone onto the kitchen table and opened the fridge to grab some yogurt. His brain felt like it was on auto-drive, like he was out of his body. He was so overwhelmed and excited at the same time. He thought it was going to be over two years before he could see Bucky again. Now it's only five months? As he stared into the refrigerator emotionless, he gained control over his body again, quickly closed the door, and picked up his phone again. He typed extremely fast on the screen, he was sending a message to T'Challa.
Hi, exactly how long do you think it will be until I see Bucky? *send*
He placed his hand over his chest and could feel his heart racing. It was doing a gymnastics routine in there.
After Steve was finished eating his food, he walked back into his room and sat down at his desk. He looked over at his piles of papers and pens scattered all other. It almost felt like his desk was a representation of his anxiety and messiness of his life. He quickly picked up a pen and began to write.

Dear friend,