The team sat in a quinjet, bored and waiting for Steve and Tony to finish berating senators, congressmen, the president, and Nick Fury. Outrage poured over the internet as Tony had once again interrupted a certain intern's homework in order to secretly leak all of SHIELD's files.
Natasha had done something similar the day Bucky was saved, but Tony had been able to locate Hydra's sealed database within the SHIELD vault. With JARVIS and Peter's help, all of that information was released.
Our conditions were simple: SHIELD would be dissolved. The Avengers would become free agents of their own will. We would not be contacted by the United States government unless global catastrophe was imminent.
Steve and Tony had been on the phone, shouting and pacing outside for nearly an hour now. However, the inside of the quinjet was silent.
Bruce was cowering under a mountain of pillow, listening to music through headphones as Thor rocked him gently in his arms. Clint and Natasha were sorting through the mess of our weapons. Sam was sleeping gently on a row of seats. And Bucky held me securely against his chest as we laid on the cold metal floor.
He trembled slightly, and I dared not press his thoughts. I did not want to invade his privacy. I knew he hated sharing his trauma. All I could do for him was hold him close and press kisses to his skin.
My throat was sore from when the Winter Soldier had choked me, but I didn't mention it to Bucky. He knew. His fingers ghosted over the purple bruises that had begun to form, lingering for a moment where he knew his fingers had been. I leaned into his touch, silently telling him it was okay.
Steve and Tony triumphantly waltzed into the quinjet. Tony clapped his hands together, "Well, ladies and gentlemen, we are free agents." He tapped Bucky's foot. "And you, sir, will be happy to know the global governments have agreed to extradite and prosecute all outed Hydra agents to the fullest extent of their laws."
Bucky nodded, but he stayed silent. Steve stood over us and produced the red notebook from behind his back. He held it out to Bucky, "What do you want to do with this?" He asked.
"Burn it," Bucky's voice was hoarse. I curled closer to his side.
Steve nodded and walked back outside. "Come on," he called over his shoulder. I looked up at Bucky. His face was pale, sickly and stricken with grief.
Slowly, I sat up. The team exited the quinjet. Tony shook Sam awake and dragged him to the sun setting above us. Thor carried Bruce in his arms, gently lifting him from his cave of solitude.
Bucky's eyes shut so tightly, his whole face creased with effort. I brushed my fingertips over the lines in his skin. My lips leaned down to kiss his nose. His features softened a bit. Carefully, he opened his eyes. "I'm so sorry, angel." His hand reached up to brush through my hair.
I smiled down at him. "There's nothing to be sorry for, my love." My voice was nearly inaudible as it rasped from my burning throat.
He winced, hearing the damage he had done to my windpipe. I shook my head at him, Stop. I placed my hand to his forehead and smoothed his eyebrows. Nothing is your fault. I'm fine. You're fine. Everyone is fine.
I love you. I'm so fucking sorry, his thoughts were laced with sadness.
My eyes watered as I watched his face change again. His shoulder shook with the sobs that forced their way out of him. I fell into his arms and let him cry. I knew he needed to, no matter how much it upset me.
We stayed like that for a few minutes until Bucky couldn't cry anymore. His face was stained with salty rivers that dried and stuck to his skin. I wiped my thumbs over them and kissed his cheeks.
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.