Four pairs of eyes gazed at the sky, the retreating green lights in the clouds leaving them with more questions than could be answered. Two of the boys looked down, minds back at the basketball game at hand, wondering who could shoot the best basket from the farthest distance. The girl looked away after a moment, staring at the boy who's eyes were stuck to the apartment building.. His small hands dropped the ball as his feet propelled him to the building, pushing through the glass door and running up the stairs, his name just a cry from the girls lips.

"ERIK!"

She ran after him, leaving behind her confused friends and trying to catch up. She stopped at what she knew was Erik's room, pausing at the open door. Her steps were small and quiet as she entered, small eyes searching for her young friend. Her hands covered her mouth, holding back a solemn cry at the sight of Erik's father, on the ground, bleeding claw marks in his chest. His eyes were closed, his chest was still and the only sound in the small Oakland apartment was Erik's sobs.

"Erik…?" His head shot up, desperation and sadness shining in his young eyes. He stood, resting his father's head on the carpeted ground, walking to the closet and sliding it open, hands reaching for a book that looked to be older than time. He opened it, skimming through the pages and stopping at one that had a gold necklace laying on it, a intricate ring at the end on the chain. As Erik picked up the chain and put it around his neck, the young girl looked at the page, trying to decipher the unknown language. She succeeded on only one word,

Wakanda

"Dad said they have the most beautiful sunsets, do you think we can see them one day? Together?" Tears streamed down both of their faces she nodded, putting her friends head on her chest. Her fingers rubbed his skin, taking no notice of the neighbor standing at their door.

Erik was 9 when his father was murdered, and was sent to live with his friend Mikayla, who's parents only saw the anger and rage that he held in his heart. They had been more than happy to send him to MIT, wanting him to better himself and also be rid of him. Once he had graduated, he had had the choice of going back to Mikayla, to a house of rules made just for him with no chance of freedom.

Eric had joined the military after college, throwing away his life as Erik Steven's and becoming Erik Killmonger, known for murdering in the field without a second glance. Though he kept his roots close, he left behind the one woman who saw light in him, and found the darkness with Klaue.

Makayla groaned at the banging, throwing the pillow over her head and willing it to stop, though it continued on even louder. She grumbled and stood from her bed, opening the door with a snarl on her lips. Her eyebrows rose in confusion at the sight of her neighbor.

"Some asshole downstairs is looking for you and keeps ringing my bell. Deal with it so I can get back to bed." Mr. Jameson glared as he spoke and stomped back to his room, slamming the door. She grumbled and slipped on her slippers, walking down the dirty hallway and going down the stairs. She opened he two steel doors, wanting to slam them back closed when she caught sight of who it was.

"Go away Erik! I made it perfectly fucking clear last time that I'm done with your ass!" She used all her strength to close to door but a perfectly clean black boot slipped in before it could close. Dark skinned fingers slipped into the opening and pried open the door, revealing her childhood friend Erik Stevens, with a bleeding wound on his chest.

"Shit!" She looked around before pulling him in and slamming the door. "Only you Erik, only you would show up in the middle of the goddamn night bleeding like a dumbass, I hate you sometimes man." Erik chuckled, though grunted and held his chest. They made it back to her room, Erik sitting on the couch and Makayla getting her first aid kit from the bathroom. He pulled off his jacket and grunted as he pulled off his shirt, swiping away a bit of the extra blood.

She returned with haste and sat on her knees, wiping down his chest with wipes, putting a bandage over the clotting wound.

"What was it this time Erik? Drug bust or are you still with that crazy guy who believes in fairy tales about third world countries with indestructible medals?" She flopped back onto her ass when Erik stood, a look of anger on his face.

"Wakanda isn't a fairy tale and it ain't no third world country and you know that. Don't say stupid shit." She raised an eyebrow and stood.

"Who the fuck do you think you are Erik? You disappear for years, years Erik, with no word of where you've been, just to show up in the middle of the night with bleeding wounds! You have no right to stand in my apartment asking for my help and talk to me like you have anything to say but I'm sorry!" Her chest was heaving as the words spilled out and Erik visibly deflated.

He walked towards her and pressed her head to his bare chest, letting her simply breath him in. Tears welled up in her eyes and her fisted hands felt his scars. Her fingers spread apart and traced the ones that lined his back muscles, wishing that this would never end.

"Let's get you to bed, You can yell at me tomorrow." Erik bent down ant lifted her up, walking to her bed and laying her down. He stood to leave, knowing his work tonight wasn't done tonight. He was here for a reason. She turned on her side and spoke quietly, "Why are you here Erik?"

He breathed a sigh and spoke, "I need your help. I'm pulling off a heist in three days and Klaue says we need an extra person, and you're all I have. And it ain't no dangerous shit, I just need you to be a witness. Will you do it?" She thought about it for a moment, Why would they need a witness? She threw that thought away, willing to think about it later.

He waited a moment, his back facing her, his hands clenching her thin sheets in his fist. She turned to face his back and her hand skimmed his scars, "Where do I need to be?"

"Museum of Great Britain." She jolted up at his words. Had getting shot somehow hurt his memory? She was living in this shithole of an apartment in Oakland because she had no money and he thought she could afford Great Britain?

"Are you serious Erik? Am I supposed to walk there, cause I can't exactly get a ticket. I-" She sighed, "I wanna help you Erik, but how?"

He stood and fetched his jacket, pulling out an envelope from the pocket. He walked back to her and gave it to her, raising his eyebrow when she did nothing. She opened it and nearly dropped it, there were a plane ticket and numerous hundred dollar bills.

"Erik I can't take this…." He scoffed and stood from the bed, pacing back and forth. His hands were clenched, arm muscles bulging at his sides. "I don't even know why I came here… I knew you wouldn't do it."

She sighed and hung her head. Erik was her weakness, and they both knew that. She would do anything for him, it had been that way since they were kids and nothing had changed. Erik used her like a rag doll and she couldn't tell him no. And tonight was no difference. She saw the plane ticket was for tomorrow morning, the returning one in four days. Racking her mind, she came up with no reason to tell him no.

"I'll do it Erik. But this is the last time…"

He smiled and rubbed his hands together, getting off the bed and throwing on his shirt and jacket. He turned back to look at her as he made his way out, though stopped, running back and enveloping her in a hug. He held her, tightly, before running out into the night, leaving Mikayla alone with her plane tickets.

One plane ticket later, Makayla was in London, staying in a crappy hotel down the street from the Museum. The room was gross, but it was all she could afford, even with the money Erik had given her. She had practically collapsed when he had arrived at the hotel, waking up when her phone wouldn't stop buzzing. She wiped her eyes, looking out the dirty window at the bright sun and she grabbed for her phone.

History Museum down the street at 11. Watch. Don't be late.

She sighed and checked the clock, 10:20. She went to the beat up bathroom and took out her bandanna, running her fingers, as best as she could, through her curls. She wiped off her face and sighed in anger, hating that she was actually about to assist Eric in what was probably a robbery. But she was weak when it came to Eric, unable to tell him no, even if it was for his own good. Cupping her hands under the faucet, she splashed water on her dark skinned face, wishing she was back in Oakland, at least that shitty place was home.

Promptly at 11 she stood in the Museum in the African artifact section, standing next to Erik himself, looking at the ancient artifacts. They simply stood there, presumably waiting for something to happen. Mikayla looked around, looking into the eye of the security camera, wondering if it was even working.

"Hello, How can I help you?" A preppy, neatly dressed white woman, probably a historian, came over to where they stood and spoke to Erik. And Erik gave her a smile and they spoke back and forth about the artifacts, though Mikayla could see the front that he was putting up, one that she found she didn't want to be on the receiving end of.

They walked away, out of hearing reach of Makayla, though she did look when she heard Eric's voice get louder and angrier. She gasped as the woman collapsed, Erik telling people to get help and herself just watching. Paramedics rushed in and instead of helping people, started shooting.

When one pointed a gun at her, ready to make her like the other dead pedestrians, Eric stepped in front of the gunman, saying something she couldn't hear. Though when the gunman took of his mask, she wished she had never come.

It was Ulysses Klaue, and his eyes were on her.

"So you're Erik's girl eh? Not bad for a prude, am I right boy?!" Klaue laughed at his words and Eric cracked a smile, though the fun ended fast when Klaue walked to one of the artifact cases and his right arm, which was apparently not an arm but a death of some sort, blasted open the box.

Inside the broken box was a mask and an axe, neither worth much for selling. Though Klaue clearly thought differently, as he picked up the axe, smelling it before cackling like a maniac.

"Pure Vibranium my lad, already got a buyer for this lovely lady. Let's get outta here." Erik nodded, though grabbed the mask on his way out, before nodding at Mikayla and running out, Klaue on his tail, the crazy man yelling a 'Bye Love!' her way.

She walked out of the museum, narrowly missing the police showing up, not wanting to have to think of a cover story. She sighed when she was in the safety of the shitty apartment, deciding to stake out until her flight back to Oakland, wishing she would never have to see Eric Stevens again. But something deep in her stomach told her that would never happen.

T'Challa sat on his bed, head hanging low. He had just defeated M'Baku of the Jabari tribe, his muscles feeling sore from the other leaders strength. Shuri had said it would take at least a few hours for him to stop feeling sore, but for now he should lay down, and stop worrying. But he was never one to listen. He made his to visit W'Kabi, wishing to speak to an old friend instead of being alone.

"What troubles you T'Challa?"

"Too many things to count my friend." W'Kabi smiled at the sorrowful T'Challa, wishing to see a smile on the new kings face. Though those thoughts fled when their a sound from their wrist signaled an incoming call. T'Challa accepted the call, Okoye's face appearing above his wrist.

She looked at T'Challa, "My King," then to W'Kabi, " My Beloved", then back to T'Challa, "We need you back at the palace. An artifact containing Vibranium has been stolen and we believe it is connected to Klaue."

Shuri, T'Challa and Okoye stood in the lab, trying to figure out what to do. Shuri had explained that the camera's during the heist were rigged, and they only had a few seconds of actual footage of who was there.

Three sets of eyes watched the screen, the few second clip of a woman standing in front of an art exhibit, her eyes looking straight into the camera before looking away.

"What do we know about that woma-"

"Already done brother. I did a facial scan and her name is Makayla Jefferson. She's 25, college graduate, even have her address. Nothing really sketchy if you ask me." Shuri threw up a full length picture of Makayla, her wild hair and bright eyes making T'Challa smile. He thought for a moment, she could be working for Klaue, and could lead them right to him, but his gut told him that she was just an innocent caught in the crossfire.

"Okoye and I will pay her a visit, see what she knows." Shuri turned to look at her brother, her eyebrows raised in mischief.

"Hmmm seems like you want to do more than see what she knows brother." Shuri cackled and T'Challa and Okoye walked away, making a plan to visit Mikayla Jefferson.