This didn't look like the small yard by his apartment. As he sat up in wind blown grass, he realized this wasn't anywhere near home at all. This looked like an outpost, somewhere in the outskirts of.. well, somewhere. A cobblestone path, a campsite, trees and sights of buildings and wilderness in the distance all sat before him. He heard the clink of metal armor as he stirred to look around - not as comfortable as the bed clothes he'd put on before hitting his bed.

 

"I was worried you'd be crumpled, holy moly," a voice called out. It sounded partially muffled, and the man realized that there was an armor-clad person coming up to check on him. Too bad the helmet kept him from making out any features other than height. But they seemed to know him. He squinted, held the back of his head and waited for it to stop hurting. "What a fall that was," they continued to speak as he gathered himself. "Are.. you okay after that?"

 

"Think so," he replied and took their offered hand to get back to his feet. "Where are we? What are we doing?"

 

"We're supposed to be keeping an eye out for the rest of our squad, but I haven't exactly seen anyone for hours. It's making me anxious. They're supposed to be here, and now I'm starting to feel like I showed up too early, or I'm in the wrong spot, or got the wrong day." The person wrung their hands out, as if letting go of antsy energy. They also spoke with their hands a lot, and it felt very familiar.

 

"We are? Together? Sorry, I don't even know your name." His brows furrowed, but they only laughed like it didn't bother them at all.

"Right! That would help. Sorry, no, you're right. Eliane. It's like a mashup of Ellie-Anne, but spelled silly. Yeah? Your turn." They gave a giddy wave and motioned for him to follow along with his own introduction.

 

".. Bucky. Nothing special."

 

Then, they were interrupted by the sound of someone else coming along the cobblestone path, sword in a practiced, steady grip pointed respectfully away from Bucky and Eliane. A woman with elegantly long black hair, another knight, presumably, from the getup she wore.

 

"I knew we were missing people. Is this the right place? I'd wandered for a while, but.. I wasn't sure if I should get close. Um, Leslie." She gave a polite, nervous bow and gestured toward Bucky with a scoff that became a laugh. "Nice pants, by the way."

Eliane was quick to introduce themself and Bucky, which he didn't mind much.

 

Bucky looked down at the green smears of grass on metal and cloth alike. As a flash of embarrassment enveloped him, he was hit with a sudden severe sense of deja vu. Hadn't this happened before? He looked between the two people before him, tried to analyze the situation being put before him. The way these two spoke, their mannerisms, their heights, even their names, all of this was so familiar. So, why weren't they? He put up his hands as if he was surrendering or butting into a conversation that hadn't even begun, took a deep breath and let out a breath, then an uncertain hum.

 

"Okay, okay. Hold on. No, shut up- not actually, I just- I need you both to listen for a moment. I might sound crazy, don't freak out." He knew he had their attention by the stares he felt. "And you, uh.. Eliane, you said? Take off you helmet. Just listen to me. Please." Bucky wasn't ready either way, whether the two would hear him out and listen. He screwed his eyes shut and spoke anyway with a shaky breath to try settling nerves that refused to still; as if the pain from his fall wasn't enough.

 

"Please don't confess anything strange, I think I've been through enough in my life." Leslie blurted with a pointed finger.

 

"Neither of you have your helmets on, but I thought it looked cool.. It does get stuffy. Fine!" Eliane complied. Bucky was tempted to open his eyes early, but continued to speak.

 

"I know it looks like we're in.. what, the fifteenth century, or so. I'm not from this century, and I don't think either of you are, either." He began slowly but surely with a shrug, like he was guessing. "I'm from centuries ahead, all of us are. Were? Anyway. We're from the twenty-first century. We all met kind of like this, but in a performing arts theatre. My memory isn't the greatest, but I know I'm right about this." Bucky stole a glance at Leslie, who seemed to be processing with a look of concern, but there was a look of familiarity in her eyes.

 

".. Go on," she said. "If I believe you, I don't have to hit you over the head for being odd."

 

The three sat in the grass now, closer to the campsite, to be comfortable. Bucky kept his tunnel vision focused on a small heap of grass he'd been plucking as he continued to explain himself. Like he didn't want to ruin some kind of surprise. Eliane was either unnaturally silent, or very tuned in this entire time.

 

"We are best friends from a community college. You're supposed to have blue dyed into the underside of your hair, Leslie, a decorative sword in your hair, some little project or homework on you nearly at all times, if not a cat in your lap. Determination and struggle were always with you. And you, Eliane.." His breath hitched in his throat as he tore the grass between his fingers. ".. You always had something fun to say. Some words of encouragement, a story to tell, an unexplainable bruise from falling in your dorm, a new nickname or affection to give out." Bucky was acutely aware of his heart beating in his ears, the tightness of his throat. When he looked up, he saw that look of now frightened familiarity in Leslie's eyes as she took in the details of the person beside them both. How tears welled up and she couldn't bear to waste any time putting a hand in Eliane's. Bucky finally willed himself to look, his vision blurring as soon as he recognized everything that had been lost. Eliane knew, too. He could tell. They all fell over in the grass in a heap of cries and hugs that wouldn't end. Eliane pressed kisses to their foreheads and talked about how much they missed them both, and how lonely it'd been here without Leslie and Bucky.

 

Back in the twenty-first century, the three had bonded through thick and thin in a performing arts department. In the months the three had spent together, they were bonded like cats through song, sorrows, and solace. Nothing could shake what they had together. Into the first summer of the trio's friendship, Eliane was lost to the recklessness of a callous, impulsive driver. It ripped worlds apart, leaving grief and hardship in its wake. Having a gift such as reuniting in another century would make anyone want to stay.

 

"It's been three years, four months, and a week since the crash. I don't know if I should be telling you that. Hard not to keep count." Bucky admitted quietly.

 

"I think I'd much rather stay here," Leslie added with a hoarse voice. They'd all been sobbing and trying to catch one another up on their long time apart. "Maybe the plague and sword-fought battles they expect of us here won't be so awful as taxes, tyrants, and gas prices." That earned a laugh out of Eliane and Bucky.

 

"We have a lot of sleepovers to catch up on, guys!" Elaine exclaimed with a gasp. "You know, alongside our knightly duties."

 

"Finally," Bucky sighed. "I want that."

 

"Me too," Leslie agreed and Bucky felt her press into what became a cuddle pile of a trio of knights. "I missed you more than I can describe and say. I love you."

 

"I love you so much," Elaine scrubbed both of their heads.

 

"I love you," Bucky nearly whispered. "It's been too long."

 

Being stuck here wouldn't be bad.