This was the morning I woke up and almost forgot that I was supposed to be a superhero. Last night was like cloud cover over me. Heck, I hadn't even changed into pajamas. I just fell asleep in the dress, waking up to see Wanda standing beside my bed, while I rubbed my mascara-smeared eyes.
"We've got to hurry," she said in a low tone.
"Oh man, what time is it?" I asked, jumping out of bed, wincing, feeling like I would probably have a permanent mark from the one-shoulder strap from the dress.
"Almost 9 AM Vienna time. No idea what time it is back in the states." Wanda said. "We've got to be out of here in less than an hour, including breakfast. Hurry!" Wanda told me. I rushed to shower, dry my unruly hair, apply the usual makeup, and get back into my plain black uniform. I zipped up the jacket, looking at myself in the mirror. What a shame, I never even got to put on the Avengers symbol patch onto the jacket, but then again, I thought, as I followed Wanda, she never had a patch applied to hers, either.
Maybe it was because I was so desperate to belong to something, to a group, to someone, that I had to have that kind of identity. Tony had called me a "fellow Avenger" last night, and in front of the prince, no less.
I almost smiled as we walked down the hallway together. I had met a prince last night, how could I forget? I didn't, really, I was just so preoccupied with what was happening today that last night felt like it was another world, another life entirely.
"C'mon, breakfast is downstairs," Natasha said, who had been standing at the end of the hallway. We followed her into the elevator, but my nerves were so edgy, I almost asked her to take the stairs. I would've, had there been any time left to spare, but I knew that there wasn't.
I remembered that I would definitely see Prince T'Challa today at the signing of the Accords, but that didn't really make me feel all fluttery inside. I was more worried about what would happen when I saw him- and what kind of decision his father would make regarding my fate. No, I hadn't forgotten about that, either.
I didn't come to Vienna to fall in love with anybody- I came here because I was forced to, forced into this life, and now I am also being forced to make a choice I don't think I want to make: Whether or not to sign the Accords.
I don't think I want to do it. So many people have been controlling me for so long, the sound of an international committee deciding if I get to go save the day or not doesn't settle with me . but I also understand that accountability is important, too. I am torn, and anybody who advises me has already firmly chosen and would be biased, anyways.
Wanda won't sign the accords, I think, as we are led into the building where the meeting will take place. She won't sign because she's a rebel. Maybe I won't have a choice in signing them, depending on what King T'Chaka decides- Wanda's fate is also wrapped up in this.
Maybe none of us can make the right decision. I walk into the huge room with my head held high, taking firm steps in my combat boots. I feel more like a soldier and less like an Avenger, more like a game piece rather than a player. There are so many people, most of them much older than me, gathered from their respective countries, all here to judge me.
Just as Natasha shows me and Wanda to our seats, I see him. Prince T'Challa greets Natasha with a polite smile, and shakes her hand. He's not really looking at her, I realize- he's looking at me. Natasha knows this, but pretends not to notice- she's good at that- and I can't hear what they are talking about. Diplomatic stuff, no doubt. What a load of crud this whole thing is.
The more I look around the room, the more I doubt that these people have what is best in mind- all they care about is their own country keeping people like me in check, but I can't stop thinking about what Tony said- the more I look at each argument, the more I see that both sides are equally wrong and equally right. I'm no political genius, or any genius at all for that matter, but even I can see the division.
It scares me. I shiver a little as I watch an older man come over to Prince T'Challa- I assume he must be King T'Chaka, and say something to him. He seems proud of his son. Maybe he is a noble and kind king, maybe when he sees me in person, and sees how utterly terrified I am, maybe he'll have mercy on me.
Actually, to be totally honest, I was kind of hoping to play the race card, but hey, I'm not entirely black, but I think that it doesn't matter if I'm white, black, or polka-dotted. All he cares about is that I'm an American- that alone divides me and makes me less-than. Having superpowers while the mighty king of Wakanda doesn't probably won't help the case either. I sigh heavily, looking away from the king, his son, and out of one of the windows.
Minutes pass after what feels like hours to me. King T'Chaka gets up to speak, and I know he's speaking harshly, in english, but I'm not listening to what he is saying. I'm not listening to him, or to anyone else- even though what he is saying concerns me. It just doesn't seem to be important right now-
Something is wrong. It's not just the harshness in King T'Chaka's voice, or the murmuring among the superheroes and UN delegates- something is wrong.
I can feel it in the air, and it's choking me. I fight the urge to stand up, to stand up and get the hell out of there, and take Wanda and anyone else nearby with me. I look at Wanda, then Natasha, Tony, and Steve, then at King T'Chaka, who is pounding his fist on the podium. In my peripheral vision, I see Prince T'Challa's head snap around from me to his father. He lunges at him, I grab ahold of Wanda, and a millisecond later, the podium and the wall and half of the room blows up.
The king is thrown forward, obviously killed in the explosion, and many others around us are dead. I hold Wanda in a vice-like grip, my eyes wide. I knew it was coming- my senses told me so, and by the look on Wanda's face, she had felt it, too. Prince T'Challa's father was dead, and the prince was crawling to his father's broken body, cradling it, crying. Tony came to grab me, and Steve grabbed Wanda, trying to rush us out of there.
"We can't leave yet!" I said, shaking out of Tony's grip. "Some of these people need medical attention!"
"We are not medics, our job is to go out and catch the son of a bitch who did this- or sons of bitches. We gotta catch the bad guys, not play nurse."
I want to argue, looking over at the prince, who is laying his father's body to the side, tears streaming down his face. His eyes flash with dark rage- one that I recognize, like my own.
I remember the day my mother was killed, the day I came back to find her, but there's no time to go back into that now. If there's a later, if I'm not somehow blamed for this mess, I will try to comfort the prince and tell him of my own experience. Perhaps it will help him.
Now I'm running into action, off to do the very thing we'd been dragged to this damned European country not to do- go out and try to save the world. We had to find out who did this, and fast.
.........
Not too much later, after all of our rushing, it was all a ruse to get us to safety. We were locked down in some room. There was a bad guy to catch, but that only made things more complicated.
"No, no." Steve said, covering his face with his hand. "I wish it weren't true."
It turned out that, according to security footage, the person who had bombed the building was the Winter Soldier, the same guy who was ghost stories back in SHIELD/ HYDRA. I'd heard a lot of crazy stories about him, about the terrible things he'd done over the past seventy years, and I also knew that he was Captain Roger's old friend. He was once a man named James Buchanan Barnes, same age as Steve, his best friend since childhood. Now he was an assassin, a product of HYDRA, as much as I was, only so much worse. Nobody ever made me kill, not that I remember. Sometimes Tony suspects that I might have a past life within the agency that I don't know or remember- that I'm not as naive as I seem, but no one knows for sure, and most of the people who would tell are either dead or missing, and it's the missing ones who scare me.
Anyways, the Winter Soldier was brainwashed, and since our encounter with Rumlow in Nigeria, he still is. He needs help- to be brought in, to be fixed.
I'm zoning out now, the images swimming through my mind like an old movie reel that I can't look away from.
"I'll see you later, sweetheart." my momma says, her hand brushing my cheek. I smile at her, trying to reach out. She seems to dodge my movement, always there in the memories, but always just barely out of my reach. My backpack is around my shoulders- I'm a little shorter, and Momma is waving goodbye to me. I turn away from her, tears in my eyes now. It all seems so real every time I remember it this way. "Stay in the now," I try to remind myself. "Your friends need you, you teammates need you- hell, the world needs you-"
the connection was suddenly cut off my the feeling of someone putting their hand on my shoulder.
"Your mother must've been a wonderful woman. My mother was that way." I heard Steve saying. It was his hand on my shoulder.
"You saw it too." I said quietly. Why did my abilities make me so damn vulnerable?
"I saw her, yeah." Steve said.
"Listen, about all of this, I-we- need your help. Bucky needs your help."
I raised an eyebrow. "Bucky?" I asked. "Who's that?"
"James Buchanan Barnes- the Winter Soldier. HYDRA hacked his brain so he has a hard time remembering- they conditioned him so that he's like two people. He needs your abilities more than anyone else does. I think that you can help him, that is, if we can find him first."
"What— you're asking me to re-condition the Winter Soldier? Seriously?" I ask, stunned.
"Yes, I'm asking." Steve said. "If the Wakandan prince doesn't have him killed, first. Bucky's a tough nut to crack, that's for sure."
"I'm thinking on the 'nut' part. He sounds like HYDRA stuffed him full of crazy, from what I know." I said.
"I'll give you his full file later." Steve said.
"Don't bother, I won't need it if I see him." I said. All of this was a big if, I knew that. If we could get near him- if he didn't kill me first, if Prince T'Challa didn't clap me in handcuffs and fly me back to his African kingdom- if T'Challa didn't have Barnes killed.
That's a whole lot of if's.
"The file will still be there if you want it." Steve said.
I didn't answer. Tony was coming into the room.
"The Prince... errr, King, wants to see you." Tony said. "He's pretty pissed right now, as you can imagine, so don't bat your eyelashes at him or try to say anything smart-assed, got it?" he fired off at me.
"Alright, handler." I snapped back at him. "You make me feel like I'm back at SHIELD, for gosh sakes. Cool it."
"Maybe you still are back at SHIELD." Tony said, his arms folded. "Maybe you haven't realized it yet, kiddo, but you are just as trapped in a corner now as you were before. Hell, you were more free when you were out roaming the streets than you are now that you've got these powers. Remember that."
I turned my back on him, headed to the door.
"You're under command, just like before. Nothing has changed- he practically owns you. Remember that." Tony yelled as I left. I slammed the heavy door, stomping up the concrete stairs, past the guards and up to the floor above. Let him see me, then. Let this Prince, now king, think he could control me, that he could throw me in prison for my involvement. Maybe he was an awful jerk, after all- I no longer cared.
The girl who had been caught up and starry-eyed at the ballet last night was someone else. She was a happy dream before this waking nightmare.
Perhaps Barnes and I had more in common than I realized. Finding him would be my new goal now, to hell with whatever T'Challa wanted or demanded. He had never seen my powers, I reminded myself, as I walked up to the second story, still underground.
He had no idea who he was dealing with- the street girl from DC could kick some serious, or royal, ass, if she had to. This was her curse, her blessing, her lot in her mostly-shitty life.
Let him see who was really in command.
..............
Author's note:
OOOOOHH look at where this is going. And you thought that T'Challa needed her for her memory-evoking abilities? I never promised that, did I? T'Challa needs her for her telekinesis, not her memory-evoking. some Jealous! T'Challa might be going on here very soon ;)