Hey, all! This is my new oneshot collection. There's just not enough Bucky x Shuri goodness out there. And yes, this will all be 100% platonic. I won't hate on anyone who ships them romantically, and I know that in some African countries the age of consent is 16… Buuut I won't be writing any of that. As a person living in a country where sixteen is underage, I'd just feel more comfortable not sexualizing her. I hope everyone understands!

I will be taking ALL requests given to me, so leave 'em here!

Undeserving

Getting to live, breathe, and heal in Wakanda was truly therapeutic. King T'Challa and especially his younger sister, Shuri, had been godsend for the broken Prisoner of War. There was far too much red in his ledger to be wiped clean by a little vacation, but sometimes he was able to forget that he was a killing machine and focus on getting to know the nation's unique culture and way of life. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen before.

He'd been expected to be treated like an outsider, but that wasn't the case. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Aside from gaining the nickname 'White Wolf' and being laughed at (mostly by Shuri) when he was frightened by hover-bikes, he was treated like the rest. The local boys liked to braid his hair, messing with the texture so different from their own hair. Shuri had sort-of adopted him as another brother. When T'Challa was too busy with his Kingly responsibilities to hang out with her, she would drag him through her lab by the hand, excitedly blabbering about inventions far too complex for his simple mind to grasp.

Despite being so welcomed, there were days when he didn't feel like he deserved the kindness they showed him. He'd murdered people, important people, innocent people. How could they look at him as if he hadn't? They looked at him as if he hadn't committed innumerable amounts of violent crimes.

It was one of those days when he was in this mindset that Shuri had brought him into the lab.

"So I was thinking of making an improvement to your arm," she was explaining as she sat him in a chair and got out a toolkit. "I know I managed to synthesize the senses in your arm by connecting it to your nervous system, but I found a way to improve your sense of touch. If my calculations are correct, then you'll be able to identify different textures."

He nodded absent-mindedly. Why she was spending so much time making improvements to his arm was unknown to him. He didn't deserve any of it, and it only made him feel guiltier. The people he'd killed never got this kind of treatment.

"Hello? Earth to Bucky, are you even paying attention to me?" Shuri was waving her hand in front of her face as she prepared to work on the arm.

Guilty realization washed over him, and without thinking he ripped the arm out of her grasp, standing up abruptly.

"Hey!" No one interrupted Shuri's work if they wanted to make it out alive. Her face softened, though, sensing something was wrong. "What's wrong?"

The gentle tone she used only made him feel worse. I don't deserve any of this. "It's nothing."

"That's not nothing! You're not even talking to me today!" She put down the tool she was wielding and crossed her arms. "I swear, Bucky, if you don't tell me what's going on right now then I'm stuffing you back in the ice!"

It didn't sound so bad - he didn't have to mull over his sins when he was under the cryogenics. Still, he sighed and answered her. "Why do you keep working on my arm?"

Her brow furrowed, and she almost looked a little hurt. "I was trying to make it better for you, but if you'd like to just keep it is for a while then that's fi-"

"No," he said quickly. "I mean why do you keep helping me?"

The hurt look was replaced by one of confusion. "I don't understand."

Did he really need to explain himself further? This only proved how blind they all were to his haunting past. "I don't deserve any of this!" He nearly shouted it, and the room fell silent. Her lack of fear at his outburst made him more confused.

"Yes, you do." She said quietly, but in the deadly-silent room, it was clearly audible.

"Don't you know what I've done?!" He was ranting now, pacing back and forth. "I've murdered people, good people. I've killed heroes and world leaders. People that would have made a difference. But I killed them. Now I'm here, living in the most beautiful place I've ever seen and getting pampered, while they're all dead because The Winter Soldier put an end to their lives."

"Sit," she commanded, gesturing to the chair. When he didn't she insisted more firmly, "Sit. Down."

He complied, taking the seat he had been in a few minutes prior. Now, she rested her hands on his shoulder and leant over him. "You deserve this." She gave him a look before he could open his mouth. "I never cared about the Winter Soldier. He murdered all of those people you just said, and so I killed him. You are not the Winter Soldier. You are Bucky Barnes, White Wolf, and the older brother I never had."

"You have an older brother-"

"Hush," she shushed him once again. "The Winter Soldier was the people who did those horrible things - you are another one of their victims. I am going to help you because I care about you, Bucky. Do you understand?"

He nodded. He'd tried telling himself that in the past, but it just felt like he was trying to play the victim card. Hearing someone else say it changed his perspective a bit. "Yes," he answered.

"Good," she said, as she picked up her tool again. "Now, I'm going to rewire some parts of it so that-"

"Did you just make me sit down so you could be taller?" he asked suspiciously.

"Maybe," she answered. "-so that you'll be able to tell the difference between stone and soil. Maybe if I get it advanced enough, you'll be able to tell the difference between cloths…" She continued talking, occasionally asking him questions and going about business as usual.

It was a comfort, one that he hadn't had in a long time.

First one is short but sweet. And I beg you, please leave requests! I don't know what you guys want to read, otherwise!