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Chapter 1: Nothing Quiet in Here
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A wiped mind is a quiet mind...
The light of day in his eyes, a longing for life: the choice is his. Zhelaniye. He speaks, breathes rusted words from dead men's tongues. There's nothing left of choice at all. Rzhavyy. Seventeen lions, the price too high. He's forced to pay it anyway. Semnadtsat. His soul. And the daybreak of another age - Rassvet - in a blazing furnace of ice. Pech. Every face, there with him now (how they'd loved their lives, then came the assassin) while the nine-headed serpent shreds the ghost and the gods of the Nine Realms weep but not for him. Devyat. For him. The long cold sleep. Dobroserdechnyy. An absence of death, benign. And the world, it turns. To coming home and 'mission report'. Another head to nail to the door. Vozvrashcheniye na rodinu. The One called 'friend'. Found wanting in his damning eyes, an empty heart and heartless mind: a twisted, broken thing. Oh, Odin. Then the freight car falls. Or he's falling. Gruzovoy vagon. And falls, warm light on his face, the sun and a longing for life: a world of choice before him. But the words tumble out of the newsagent's eyes, and his mind becomes meat for the grinder.
...and there's nothing quiet in here.
... ... ...
"Bring him out."
The med tech's eyes widened in surprise. "You - you are certain, sir?"
T'Challa turned to face her. The question was not an unreasonable one and he softened his tone. "Bring him out. We will have to take the risk." He glanced down at the charts in his hand, at the spiked lines of a mind in distress and a body fighting to save it. He had thought about nothing else for the last two days, ever since the doctors had shown him the change in the readings, and it always came back to this. Yet no one was in any way ready for it, least of all the man in the cryo-chamber. T'Challa looked up and met Zukelwa's uneasy gaze. "It's the only thing we can do."
"Yes sir," she said. "I'll assemble the team at once."
As she turned to walk away, the Wakandan king spoke again, more to himself than to her. "And I will see to the rest." He continued to stare at the frozen man behind the viewing pane, and Zukelwa nodded and left the room.
It had been difficult enough keeping the world at bay when James Barnes was in cryo; it would be harder once they brought him out. Even here in Wakanda there was a need to keep his presence a secret from all but a select group: the designers and engineers who were working on a replacement vibranium arm for him, the scientists who were still trying to devise a way to neutralize the Hydra trigger words, and a few trusted advisors. Of necessity, that group would grow in size now; Barnes would need the support of a range of therapists once he was out of stasis, and there were security measures to put in place. T'Challa knew he might lose control of the situation at any moment. Enough people were already suspicious, both inside and outside of Wakanda, but he was as determined as ever to salvage something out of the senseless death of his father. It wasn't easy though...
The Winter Soldier. That was all that the United Nations saw, all the governments of the world and various law enforcement agencies saw. All that Tony Stark saw. And they all wanted James Barnes to pay for what the Soldier had done as Hydra's brainwashed, weaponized 'asset'. That Barnes had also been a victim seemed to count for nothing. T'Challa had quickly realised the futility of trying to change their minds when he had turned Zemo over to the CIA and so he had heeded his inner voice to keep silent on Barnes's whereabouts. He would continue to provide sanctuary to the man until he was as mentally whole and healed as possible and although Barnes would eventually have to face a reckoning of one sort or another, if he could do so with a fighting chance then T'Challa would count himself satisfied with that.
For now though, there were more immediate practicalities to see to. There was a lot that had to be arranged over the next twenty-four hours and there were certain people outside of Wakanda who needed to know about this latest development. After one last look at James Barnes, T'Challa turned on his heel and left the lab.
… … …
It was the warm sun on his face that broke through the drift of sleep and for a few moments the day seemed no different to any other: sluggish air creeping in through the window, the choking smell of exhaust fumes rising up from the street below, the discordant sound of humanity as it barreled along through another sticky summer morning. And then the previous day's news roared to life in Steve's head and the new day morphed into something altogether different.
They'd woken him up. Bucky. Brought him out of cryo.
Steve flung his forearm over his eyes and groaned. Not enough sleep and too many thoughts. Still, he was surprised he had slept at all. His mind had gone into overdrive after Professor Sontonga had delivered T'Challa's message.
She had bumped into him by the coffee cart, knocking his drink out of his hand. My fault, she said. Please, let me buy you a new one. He had recognized the Wakandan accent straight away, if not the woman herself. A seemingly accidental meeting then (because there was always someone watching), and in person (because there was always someone listening on the wires.)
A few doors along, coffees in hand, they had sat on the tattered stoop of an old building, expressions neutral, reactions dialed down: just shooting the breeze as far as anyone was concerned.
Today was her fourth day of seven in New York, she told him. A visit arranged at short notice to deliver a lecture at Columbia, which she had done yesterday. She would be sightseeing for the next few days before flying back to Wakanda. Oh, and by the way, your friend is awake.
There had been the briefest pause and then Steve had asked, Cured?
No, she replied. His friend had been dreaming in stasis... nightmares really. Unheard of before, and kinder to bring him out rather than leave him in there, suffering in frozen silence.
I can be there in two days, Steve had said.
Her reply had been another 'no'. The governments of the world, and Tony Stark, and all the other forces arrayed against James Buchanan Barnes were watching Wakanda as closely as ever. Captain Rogers' presence would only fuel their suspicions. He should stay here in Brooklyn for the time being, and could trust that precautions had been put in place and alternative therapies were being trialed with his friend.
She was right, Steve realized. A lot of questions would be asked if he took off for Wakanda now. He didn't want to make things any more difficult for T'Challa - and, by extension, Bucky - than they already were. There was nothing he could do. At least, not yet. So he had chatted with the older woman for a few minutes more - about the weather, some sights she might like to see - and then he'd thanked her and wished her a safe trip home, and they had gone their separate ways...
Time to get moving. Tossing back the covers, Steve sat up. Carry on as if it were any other day. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. He was due for work at the Veterans' Center in an hour and then later that evening he was going over to Sam's place for dinner. Sharon was up from D.C. so she would be there too. Just another normal day. He could tell them the news.