UNRAVELED ~ STEVE ROGERS [3]

Chapter Six

I sat on a cold metal bench in the med lab, wearing my signature ripped jeans and a Green Day t-shirt. A blue light rippled over my exposed and slightly bruised neck, and Mia read the results on a screen. A TV in the corner flashed the news, but it was on mute. I looked up at it and saw flashes of Nigeria on the screen.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, turn the sound on for the med lab TV,” I said, keeping my eyes glued to the screen. Images flew across the screen, and I was among them.

“Ok, there’s no more internal damage, but you might find you neck a bit sore for a while. I can make-“ I didn’t let Mia finish her sentence because I held out a hand and shushed her, all my attention to the screen. The news anchor spoke as images of the burning building flashed past.

“11 Wakandans were among those killed during a confrontation between the Avengers and a group of mercenaries in Lagos, Nigeria, last month. The traditionally reclusive Wakandans were on an outreach mission in Lagos when the attack occurred.” My chest tightened, and I swallowed dryly. It had been a month since Lagos, and this was the first I was hearing of the Wakandans that were killed. And the first I’d ever heard of Wakanda funding an outreach mission.

The news cut to a video of King T’Chaka, monarch of Wakanda. I was absorbed in the video, my mouth dry and my hands trembling ever so slightly on the bench.

“Our people’s blood is spilled on foreign soil. Not because of the actions of criminals, but by the indifference of those pledged to stop them. Victory at the expense of the innocent, is not victory at all.” King T’Chaka’s voice resonated in my head. It was because of me, that my own people had died. I had the opportunity to help Wanda, and I didn’t take it, and as a result, innocent people were killed right in front of me. It was unacceptable, on my part, and it was another set of names to add to my ever growing list in my head. The list of the people whose blood was on my hands      

    

The TV continued to talk, but Mia set her screen down on the bench.

“That wasn’t your fault. You did the best you could,” she said sweetly, pushing her honey blonde hair out of her eyes. I slammed the table with my fist, and she jumped back, I glared at the ground.

“I could have done better. I had the opportunity to do better and I didn’t take it. And now, more people are dead. More blood is on my hands,” I said harshly. Mia looked at me, pity in her expression. I didn’t want pity. I wanted anger. Someone other than me needed to be angry and I wanted to feel it. I wanted to be yelled at. I wanted to be punished for what I had done because I was sick of being treated like my sins were forgivable.

“What legal authority does an enhanced individual like Wanda Maximoff have to operate in Nigeria? Or, what about the Avenger known as Toxin, whose real identity is still a mystery, four years on from the attack in New York? And let’s not forget that fact that Toxin was seen operating for the enemy in New York, and again in Washington D.C. If the world doesn’t know who this woman is, or what side she’s on, how can we trust her to keep us safe?” The new anchor spouted off his words like vomit, spewing from his mouth. “Toxin is, for now, under the protection and immunity of Captain America and the Avengers. But how can we know when she will decide to go rogue, or worse, turn on us completely? It’s not about-“

Mia turned the TV off, her pretty face white with shock and rage.

“How can they say that? You’ve saved so many lives and yet they want to stop that?!” Her lower lip trembled. She got so fired up about things, and in a way, she reminded me of a better, sweeter, more innocent version of myself.

“They said when,” I mumbled, picking at the scars on my palms. Mia glanced up.

“What?” she asked. I stared into her eyes.