I tried to swallow back my anger as I walked up the last few steps to the second floor. I knew it was written across my face, but I didn't care. I was furious that someone had bombed the building, furious that this stupid Accords meeting was even being held at all- and furious that I couldn't just live a normal life for even one damn day. I didn't want to deal with any of these problems, the goal of finding the Winter Soldier- Barnes, I reminded myself- was only a flickering flame that threatened to go out if just one more thing went wrong.
Yeah, I was pretty pissed.
I reached to swing the door open to continue my stomp-walk, but was further angered to see that the damn thing was bolted shut. Oh, no problem. With a flick of my wrist, a green spark shot out, and the door handle was twisted to nothing. My powers were stronger when I was angry- that's true of almost anyone, but when people like Wanda and I got mad, bad, bad things were likely to happen.
I yanked the door open, and the severed steel bolt fell out of the door, falling to the ground with a dull clank, utterly useless.
I get another strange sensation, kind of like the one I had before, but more like an echo- less urgent and not quite as strong, but still forceful.
I was in a long room, sort of like a hall. Someone was standing at the end of it, their head down, leaning on the handrailing that ran against the window frame- it was T'Challa.
He was deep in thought and not even aware of my presence, it seemed. An image of his father came to my mind, that of a loving father, not the king who threatened my already-limited freedom. I was seeing his father from T'Challa's point of view. How he missed him.
"I am sorry about the loss of your father." I hear myself saying, walking towards him at a brisk pace.
"I can only hope to be as good of a king in his place." T'Challa said, his words heavy, dripping with grief. It was becoming very hard to be so angry with him- damn my empathy- but I knew what it felt like. I reached out my hand towards him, now that I was close enough to almost touch him. A wave of memories came back, and I saw his mother, bits and pieces of his home, and hearing his father's hearty laugh. T'Challa was shocked by all of this, his tear-filled eyes wide as we saw his father come towards him. T'Challa said something in Wakandan, but I understood that he meant "father" when he saw him approach.
"I am so proud of you, my son!" his father said, his arms open to embrace him. T'Challa leaned in to hug his father, but he dissipated like a wisp of smoke, fading away like some strange dream.
T'Challa uttered the Wakandan word again, tears falling, his hands reaching out for his father, but he wasn't there.
"I know." I say. "You can always see, but never touch. Always witness, but never feel. It's the same for me-" I told him. T'Challa seemed confused, but I closed my eyes, concentrating. An image of my mother appeared, like we were back in our little apartment kitchen in DC, the linoleum looking like it was forty years old, the paint peeling on the cabinets- the sparseness of food in the open pantry cupboard. At least he knew I was no princess-at least he knew where I came from.
"Baby girl, you home already?" my momma was saying. Even though I knew it wasn't real, my heart leapt as my mother came towards me, passing between me and T'Challa, reaching out to embrace me.
"No, I'm not home, Momma." I said, reaching out to her hands, trying to touch them, as she too, faded away into nothing.
I let everything fade, focusing on the now.
"I understand loss- I am sorry for yours, but maybe now you understand the struggle." I said.
"My mother died many years ago, when I was just a boy." he said.
"I don't know where the hell my father is, and I don't care. I hope I never see his face again." I said.
"Did he leave you?" T'Challa asked.
"Yes, and worse for my mother, but that is for another time. " I said stiffly. I didn't care to talk about my father, at all, ever. As far as I was concerned, the man was dead to me, regardless if he was living or actually dead now.
"I am sorry to hear that." T'Challa said.
"I don't want your pity, I want to know what it is you want from me so I can get it over with." I said, my voice going cold.
T'Challa seemed to stand up straight again, much like the handsome young man I had seen only the night before- he put his grief away, shoved it in one of those mental drawers that you lock up when you know that the future is at stake- I do that too- all the time. He was all business now, but I could see something else in his eyes that offset me.
"You are going to stay with me and help me track down Barnes. I will deal with him myself- he is now a fugitive and must be held accountable for his actions against my country."
Wow, he was even icier than me. I know I heard what he said, but what I really heard was, "I'm going to use you to help track down the monster I want to get revenge on, because I'm willing to use whatever means necessary to track down that son of a bitch who murdered my dad, because now it's personal." Same thing, only one was frosted with a thin layer of diplomacy.
"We must leave, now. Barnes could be anywhere by now." T'Challa said. He turned away from me, gesturing for me to follow him. I tromped after him, taking heavy steps in my boots, like I was some big, tough superhero, maybe like Thor, I don't know. That brought me to something else that I didn't understand- why was he acting like he was going to look for Barnes? He was just a prince, well, king now, but still, I had my doubts that he would be able to keep up with me.
I just didn't feel like going against what Tony had said and making some smart-assed remark about it. He wanted me to do all the dirty work while he held a gun or gave orders to me from some helicopter or a secure location.
Royalty never did the dirty work themselves, right?
............
"So you're telling me that he just took her and that's all right with you? What is with you, Stark?!" Steve yelled at Tony.
"He didn't take her, she went with him." Tony said, folding his arms, leaning against the wall.
"She went because she knew she didn't have a choice." Steve said.
"Actually, she did have a choice, but she went because looking for your ol' bestie, the Winter Murderer. As I think I recall from the security footage I just watched, a certain spangly captain asked oh-so-pitifully for her help in finding and reconditioning him." Tony said, sneering.
Steve turned his back. "That's not all, is it?" he asked after a moment of silence. "He chose her over Wanda even though the reports show that it was Wanda who threw Rumlow into the building."
Tony sighed dramatically. "You catch on fast for an old guy, Cap." Tony said.
"That's why you took her last night, isn't it? It wasn't just to alleviate your guilt about what was gonna happen today, was it?"
"No, smartie, it wasn't." Tony said. If he was going to admit to it, Steve was going to have to dig for it.
"He met her last night, didn't he? It was a set-up to keep Wanda safe, wasn't it?"
Tony rolled his eyes.
"He's smitten with her, dammit. I might've hoped that maybe he'd be there-" Tony was about to confess to it all, but then remembered that he was on security footage, and shut his mouth fast.
Steve raised an eyebrow, turning around to face him.
"You son of a bitch." he said. Tony shook his head.
"Go wash your mouth out with soap, Spangles." Tony said, standing up straight, unfolding his arms, and heading for the door out of the room. Steve was behind him.
"I'm going after them." Steve said.
"Oh, sure, you do that. You weren't given permission to do that." Tony said.
"I never signed." Steve reminded him. "and she didn't either."
"She didn't get to sign because she is not the UN's problem anymore. She's Wakanda's problem, and Mr. Disney Prince's problem." Tony said, speaking a little more freely since there were no sound-capturing cameras in that hall.
Motion cameras- but not sound capturing ones. Tony knew that Grace liked T'Challa, but he knew she was pissed with him once she realized that she was basically his property. He'd seen the streak of rebellion in her from the start, the same kind of rebellion he saw in himself, and he didn't blame the poor kid.
Being with T'Challa, on the hunt for Barnes, was probably the safest place for her to be, not shoved through the Avengers cattle shoot- now she would be watched and cared for by someone who actually gave a shit about what happened to her. He had grown rather fond of her, sassy and backtalking as she was. He actually liked the way she often called him "dad" when she was really mad at him. If he ever had a daughter, he hoped she would turn out like Grace.
He stuffed his sudden well of feelings back down- how on earth could be be thinking of ever having a daughter like Grace at a time like this? He wasn't even with Pepper anymore, for heaven's sake.
Tony Stark couldn't help that the Avengers brought ties like a dysfunctional family- it was the only family he had left, the only family any of them had left. Wanda and Grace loved each other like sisters.
He only hoped that T'Challa really was smitten with her as he suspected, as he'd planned, but he didn't know for sure. He hoped he would treat her right as things went on.
.......