verb.
To fall back under pressure. To shrink back physically or emotionally.
noun.
The kickback of a gun upon firing.
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It takes a stubborn mind to cling to their humanity when the world seeks to strip it away.
It takes a desperate soul to reach f...
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Steve released a soft sigh as he gazed through the observation window set into the hallway, his eyes travelling slowly over the sterile, white room that lay beyond the glass, backed with a network of screens and readouts as his hands rested in the pockets of his slacks.
It seemed at last, his mind had begun to settle after the chaos and trauma of the days that had passed since Siberia. Begun to process the fact that they were safe, for now.
The location of their sanctuary was one he hadn't anticipated, though he couldn't argue with it. He had been in no position to, when the King of Wakanda had met them on that snow-covered mountaintop and offered them help – hell, he hadn't even anticipated the fact that T'Challa would offer them an apology, but it had come without expectation.
Despite their earlier clashes, the young King was eager to make amends. Steve could recognise a good man when he met one; empathetic, noble, willing to admit he had made a mistake.
The coordinates T'Challa had given Steve were unfamiliar, but he had little choice but to trust them. They had needed to get as far as possible from Siberia, from Tony and the UN and everything that was snapping at their heels. Even if he was reluctant to create a wider gap between himself and his old friend, it needed to happen before apologies could be made. They had needed to disappear, and the Kingdom of Wakanda was willing to make that happen.
It had given them time, and space to breathe. To heal.
It meant the rudimentary first aid that Kat had been able to administer on the Quinjet wasn't solely responsible for their recovery. The fleet of highly trained medical staff that had met them upon landing had seen to that – cleaning up superficial wounds, supporting cracked bones, allowing their unbelievable technology to get to work on healing their injuries with alarming speed – even in the eyes of three enhanced individuals.
They had given Kat the equipment she needed to finish disconnecting what was left of Bucky's arm. Undoubtably, others could have done it for her, but the offer hadn't been made. There was an air of protectiveness there that no one seemed willing to interrupt. It was clear in the way she hadn't left Bucky's side since his collapse on the jet, in the way that, when he was conscious his right hand was either consistently linked with hers or touching her in some way. Even when he slept, Kat's fingers were wrapped around his, unwilling to break that contact for even a second.
Steve understood. He understood the fear she had felt that day on the jet because he had felt it all too forcefully himself. For a sickening moment, it had been that day on the train all over again.
They had held on to him though, and Bucky was a fighter.
He had been quiet though, in their days spent resting. He had spoken little more than soft comments in the moments Kat had spent recounting what had happened to her in the base and had contributed little when Steve had informed her of what had happened in the missile silo. The revelation of what had happened to the Starks, and the subsequent attack from Tony. The guilt that his friend felt was clear, but there was something else that weighed upon him. Something heavier than the past coming to light.
