[He’s shaking when his consciousness returns. Still on his feet. The gun in his hands is missing. Steve is—
Not in front of him. Nor are the jungles of Wakanda that he’s called home for the last several months. Just an emptiness, barren. Dark.] S- Steve—
[He calls again with uncertainty. He only hears his voice echo. He checks his new arm, then the real one. He checks the ground at his feet, then turns. A path winds behind, unmarked but clearly present.]
What the hell... [He mutters, turning on his heel. A world grows out of the nothingness, drab, but a world nonetheless, and he jerks back in shock. Where there was once nothing, something that seems like an empty town appears. Colorless. Feelingless. What the fuck is going on?]
[ Loki wasn't killed by an Infinity Stone, but he had held one long enough that some of its power lingered in his spirit. Body. He's not sure. The metaphysical was never his arena and he avoided it as much as possible. Here, in this . . . space, Loki is still avoiding it. When he hears a voice, Loki carefully ambles towards it. ]
[He hears the yelp from as he’s folding the laundry. It immediately sends alarm through him, the soldier having never heard the other man—god, whatever—make a noise quite like it before, and a cold sweat forms as he darts out from the bedroom in panic, hand already reaching for the concealed blade in his belt.
Except there’s no one else in the apartment aside from then and. Loki seems to be leaning over the stove angrily, ready to curse it out or something.]
Uh.
[It’s not the most elegant way to start, but he did just go from 11 back down to 1. He tries not to make his incredulity too obvious, but the confusion is definitely there on his face.]
[ Loki hisses as he nurses his hand gingerly. He's still not familiar with the tools Midgardians use and the learning curve is far more daunting than he imagined it to be. ]
What— [He steps closer gingerly, always careful in case crazy weird tech shows up (again), but thankfully there’s nothing seemingly out of the ordinary as he rounds the counter and...] —the stove?
[There’s a pot sitting askew in the middle, and the warning light for hot surfaces is on. He considers remarking about it bluntly, but. Well, nothing would come out of salt in the wound.]
Let me see. [Walking up to Loki, he gestures for the hand.]
[He’s definitely concerned, but not that it won’t heal. Taking Loki's hand carefully, he sees the reddened skin and hisses faintly.]
How bad does it hurt?
[And without another word, he gently draws the injury to his lips, placing an instinctive kiss to it. Habit from the old days, kissing away his younger sisters’ injuries as his mother had taught him. He knows it doesn’t really do anything physically to help, but he only thinks to stop himself only after he’s already lowered Loki’s hand again.]
[Humming, and ignoring the staring (even though his cheeks start to stain a bit red), he brushes his thumb gently against the reddened skin. It’s certainly not a bad burn at all, but the angry vermillion looks off, even to Bucky.]
Probably should still run it under cool water.
[With that, he gently tugs Loki toward the kitchen sink before starting the tap. Cool water, of course. Not cold.]
What were you doing at the stove anyway? Don’t you usually prefer lounging in malaise on the couch? [The last bit is said with a knowing grin of course, but he can’t help the tease.]
[ he's practically giddy as he packs the last of the supplies onto the small spacecraft. it had been blessing enough to fly the damn thing during shuri's last sets of flight tests, even for the young genius herself when she took a selfie in the cockpit, the moon as backdrop while they orbited the normally inaccessible white sphere. (she took one for bucky too.) now the day the ship becomes his is here, and he can hardly wait to leave, even knowing he'll be stuck dealing with new asgard's reigning primadonna.
he knows he'll miss earth, shuri, sam. he's still on the fence on if he's supposed to miss steve too, a stranger who lived a whole other life in another timeline. but even with the wakandan technology onboard capable of relaying communication to the edge of the milky way, time enough for either occupant to have regrets and wish for return, bucky isn't sure he'll even use it. he wonders if that's bad.
a few dora milaje remain on watch just off the landing zone. he joins them in idle chatter as he waits for shuri to finish briefing the god of mischief and escort him back with thor, who insisted on being present for his brother's departure.
when bucky had told steve, the man now several times his elder had only wished bucky could find what he needed. ]
[ thor wasn't terribly pleased that loki was leaving, even if he was doing his best to put it aside. loki knew how hard it was for him to let go. they had so little left. they only had each other. but loki couldn't stay for years on earth. it chafes at him. so the least loki could do is tell him and let thor decide. though he knew thor would let him go.
and thor would wait for him. loki knew this. thor gives his shoulders a squeeze before stepping back. loki then makes his way to the ship, eyeing it surreptitiously. ]
[ he cocks a brow, glancing to shuri, who's trying not to shoot loki a glare. she gestures irritation in their own secret way when she notices his gaze, and bucky tries not to smile. all the more reason he's glad to get going, to get loki out of her hair. ]
We could rocket you out in a shipping container instead, if you'd prefer, [ he jokes, grinning at loki. from the corner of his eye, he sees shuri's hand fly to her mouth to hide her silent laughter. ] She ain't a luxury cruise, but at least she's got leather seats.
[ not that luxury matters much to bucky at all anymore, but the extra considerations for comfort are still appreciated.
he looks past the other man's shoulder to thor who watches them from a distance. bucky offers a small reassuring wave paired with a tight smile. thor smiles back, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. the humor is gone as he looks back to loki again. goodbyes suck. his mind drifts back to his last night in new york, when he and steve couldn't even say the words. ]
[ but loki glances one last time to thor, the corners of his eyes crinkling before giving his brother one last nod. he sighs, looking at the controls before flipping a few switches.
[ he snorts faintly, giving shuri a final wave before closing the bay door. he doesn't know much about loki other than what's been in the news and a long spiel thor had rambled at him when trying to make sure bucky would be fine flying with the guy, but loki seems to have some semblance of humor, which is good. and more than the news or thor really conveyed. ]
Yeah. Let's get off this rock.
[ he settles into the pilot's seat, checking the internal pressure before locking the doors. flicking the last few switches needed to charge the boosters for lift-off, he glances back to his new travel companion, suddenly remembering his manners. ]
I dunno what they told you, but the name's James, by the way. My friends call me Bucky.
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Not in front of him. Nor are the jungles of Wakanda that he’s called home for the last several months. Just an emptiness, barren. Dark.] S- Steve—
[He calls again with uncertainty. He only hears his voice echo. He checks his new arm, then the real one. He checks the ground at his feet, then turns. A path winds behind, unmarked but clearly present.]
What the hell... [He mutters, turning on his heel. A world grows out of the nothingness, drab, but a world nonetheless, and he jerks back in shock. Where there was once nothing, something that seems like an empty town appears. Colorless. Feelingless. What the fuck is going on?]
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Human. So he made it to Earth.
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Hello?
[He moves toward it. It echoes from around the corner of a building.]
Who’s there.
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Me.
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...who the hell are you?
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[ Loki eyes the metal hand before shrugging. ]
I am Loki of Asgard. And you are an unfortunate victim of Thanos.
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[Thor who is cool and righteous and badass, and Loki who tried to destroy Earth while he’d been frozen? Well, shit.]
Uh.
Wait. “Victim”? What... [He looks down at his hands. Then his feet again. Then all about.] I’m. I’m dead?
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Was it not obvious?
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Should it have been?
[He’d disappeared into the air. Broken apart. Fallen. Was that death? Is this death?]
I don’t feel dead. [He says this mostly to himself.]
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potholders are a thing lokes
Except there’s no one else in the apartment aside from then and. Loki seems to be leaning over the stove angrily, ready to curse it out or something.]
Uh.
[It’s not the most elegant way to start, but he did just go from 11 back down to 1. He tries not to make his incredulity too obvious, but the confusion is definitely there on his face.]
You. You okay?
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This ridiculous device burned me!
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[There’s a pot sitting askew in the middle, and the warning light for hot surfaces is on. He considers remarking about it bluntly, but. Well, nothing would come out of salt in the wound.]
Let me see. [Walking up to Loki, he gestures for the hand.]
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It'll heal. If you are . . . concerned.
[ Which seems bizarre but possible??? ]
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How bad does it hurt?
[And without another word, he gently draws the injury to his lips, placing an instinctive kiss to it. Habit from the old days, kissing away his younger sisters’ injuries as his mother had taught him. He knows it doesn’t really do anything physically to help, but he only thinks to stop himself only after he’s already lowered Loki’s hand again.]
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Ah . . . It'll pass, I'm sure. I'm not used to being burned.
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Probably should still run it under cool water.
[With that, he gently tugs Loki toward the kitchen sink before starting the tap. Cool water, of course. Not cold.]
What were you doing at the stove anyway? Don’t you usually prefer lounging in malaise on the couch? [The last bit is said with a knowing grin of course, but he can’t help the tease.]
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I wanted to try using the inflammatory device. I should know how it works!
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bye bye earth, in the not-exploding way
he knows he'll miss earth, shuri, sam. he's still on the fence on if he's supposed to miss steve too, a stranger who lived a whole other life in another timeline. but even with the wakandan technology onboard capable of relaying communication to the edge of the milky way, time enough for either occupant to have regrets and wish for return, bucky isn't sure he'll even use it. he wonders if that's bad.
a few dora milaje remain on watch just off the landing zone. he joins them in idle chatter as he waits for shuri to finish briefing the god of mischief and escort him back with thor, who insisted on being present for his brother's departure.
when bucky had told steve, the man now several times his elder had only wished bucky could find what he needed.]no subject
and thor would wait for him. loki knew this. thor gives his shoulders a squeeze before stepping back. loki then makes his way to the ship, eyeing it surreptitiously. ]
I suppose it'll do.
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We could rocket you out in a shipping container instead, if you'd prefer, [ he jokes, grinning at loki. from the corner of his eye, he sees shuri's hand fly to her mouth to hide her silent laughter. ] She ain't a luxury cruise, but at least she's got leather seats.
[ not that luxury matters much to bucky at all anymore, but the extra considerations for comfort are still appreciated.
he looks past the other man's shoulder to thor who watches them from a distance. bucky offers a small reassuring wave paired with a tight smile. thor smiles back, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. the humor is gone as he looks back to loki again. goodbyes suck. his mind drifts back to his last night in new york, when he and steve couldn't even say the words. ]
You ready?
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[ but loki glances one last time to thor, the corners of his eyes crinkling before giving his brother one last nod. he sighs, looking at the controls before flipping a few switches.
I am. Are you?
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Yeah. Let's get off this rock.
[ he settles into the pilot's seat, checking the internal pressure before locking the doors. flicking the last few switches needed to charge the boosters for lift-off, he glances back to his new travel companion, suddenly remembering his manners. ]
I dunno what they told you, but the name's James, by the way. My friends call me Bucky.
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How do you get "Bucky" from James?
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You don't. It's from my middle name.
[ which he doesn't bother sharing. ]
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Truly a unique form of punishment then.
[ james sounds like a vast improvement than bucky. what even is a bucky anyway. ]
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