Chapter 20

Bruce envelops me in a warm hug next, followed closely by Nat, and one by one, everyone else joins in, wrapping me in their comforting embrace. "I have a question," I begin, my voice breaking the silence as Steve lets go.

"Yeah?" Steve replies, looking down with a soft smile.

"Where is Bucky?" I ask, a hint of worry creeping into my voice.

"Oh, he went for a walk before you arrived. He mentioned he would be out for a while. He took Koda—"

A sudden bell chimes, cutting Steve off mid-sentence. I turn toward the elevator, and the doors slide open to reveal Bucky stepping out. He's dressed casually in a grey short-sleeve top and blue jeans that hug his frame, exuding a relaxed charm despite the weight of unspoken emotions. He chuckles softly as he releases Koda's lead. The dog joyfully bounds toward me, and I crouch down, overwhelmed with emotion. Tears well in my eyes as Koda showers my face with affectionate licks, his warm tongue brushing away my sadness. In that moment, all guilt and sorrow dissipate, replaced by an overwhelming wave of happiness. I pull him close, rubbing his ears as he whines and paws at me excitedly, tail wagging furiously behind him.

Bucky tosses his jumper over the back of the couch, breaking the momentary bliss. "You know, Koda has never been more excited to get home. It's almost as if he's sick of me..." His voice trails off, and suddenly, his eyes lock onto mine. The lightheartedness vanishes, replaced by a sombre heaviness. Tears begin to glisten in his eyes.

"Bea..." he begins softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Hey, Bucky," I reply, trying to bridge the growing chasm between us.

As I gaze at his face, a yearning wells up inside me, urging me to leap into his arms and hold him tightly. But the expression etched on his features sends a chill through me—a haunting emptiness that makes my stomach twist. He looks at me with a vacant stare, as if he's a million miles away, before he turns his gaze away, shutting me out. "I will be in my room if you need me," he says, his tone flat and devoid of warmth. He then walks away, each step echoing in the silence and leaving behind a sharp pain that jabs at my heart like a cruel knife.

"It's okay; he's just hurting," Steve says gently from behind me, placing a supportive hand on my shoulder.

"I know," I whisper, feeling the weight of the moment.

Steve pulled me into a big cuddle before asking, "Where have you been?" A heavy weight formed in my chest as I prepared to share everything. It felt like an eternity of tears as the truth finally spilt out. Explaining everything was a monumental task, but we managed to convey the heart of the story. Everyone expressed their anger about my secrecy: the dreams, the deception surrounding my death, and my decision to seek Wanda's help to fake my absence.

"So, now that we've unpacked your fake death, your ordeal with HYDRA, and your globe-trotting adventures in France for the last two months, I just have to know—how did you manage to make a deal with death? How did you bring back Tony, Nat, Loki, and Vision?" Bruce asks, his curiosity piqued.

"Well, um, I traded my life," I reply, my voice steady despite the gravity of my admission.

"What!" Bruce exclaims, eyes wide in disbelief.

"You see, the unique nature of my body allows me to create multiple souls. All I had to do was surrender my body to the figure of death in exchange for their lives," I explain.

"What's the catch?" Steve interjects, concern etched on his face.

"I'm now part of Mother Nature. If I spend too much time away from her, like when I'm with you guys for prolonged periods, I start to wither. I learned this the hard way—thanks, HYDRA," I say, my tone laced with bitterness as the memories rush back.

"So, you sacrificed your chance to live for us?" Nat's voice carries both awe and sorrow.

"I do live, but with a cost," I clarify.

"And that is...?" Vision prods gently.

"I can't consume anything artificial. No more waffles from Starbucks or coffee. I'm limited to natural substances from the earth," I explain, the weight of that reality settling on me.

"That sounds similar to your allergies and the reason for wearing only what you create yourself," Nat observes, piecing everything together.

"Essentially, yes, but it comes with a much more excruciating price," I sigh, glancing at them all.

"Why did you choose the name Sara Cooper?" Vision asks, bewildered. "Out of all the names, what made those special?"

"You never want to choose a name that's significant to you if you're trying to remain hidden," Nat points out sagely.

"Exactly. Any other name would have been too obvious, especially if someone noticed my resemblance to that girl who passed away a couple of years ago," I explain. "So, I opted for the most unassuming names I could think of: Sarah and Cooper."

"But why those two specifically?" Bruce questions.

"Sarah is Steve's mother's name, and Cooper is Clint's son's name," I reveal, chuckling lightly at the connection.

"Ah, okay," Steve nods. "It's ringing a bell now."

"Really?" I ask, attempting to mask my amusement with a heavy dose of sarcasm. I can't help but stifle a yawn. "I know you all want to catch up, and we'll have all the time in the world since I'm now immortal. But if you don't mind, I'm honestly exhausted."

"Of course, you can go," Clint says gently, rubbing my back and pulling me into a comforting hug.

I rise from the stool, fatigue weighing heavily on my limbs as I make my way back to my room, Koda trailing closely behind me.

Bruce's P.O.V

As she turns the corner and disappears, I lean toward the group. "Did you notice the scars on her?"

"Yeah, I did," Steve replies, concern lacing his tone.

"She looks so pale and fragile. You can practically see her bones," Nat adds, her brow furrowing as she recalls Bea's condition.

"She looks like she's been through hell," Wanda observes quietly, the weight of her words resonating in the air.

"You wouldn't be unscathed either after enduring HYDRA's testing and then bartering your soul," I remind them all.

"Tomorrow, I'll check on her, make sure she's okay," I state firmly, a sense of responsibility igniting within me.

"You do that," Steve agrees, his worry evident.