Apologies for the wait; it took me longer than I thought to write this chapter. I hope you like it, and please review! I always take constructive criticism. :)
"Peter?"
May stared at me in shock, no doubt due to my reddened eyes and the large ex-assassin, all pretenses of normality gone, looming over my shoulder. I sniffled a bit, still shaky from the weight of my past lifting a little bit, but looked up at her in all seriousness.
"We should come inside," I finally said in way of explanation, not sure how to begin. May nodded numbly, eyes trailing Bucky in a mixture of worry and suspicion as she closed the door behind her with a quiet click. Placing a hand on my shoulder, she steered us into the living room. Putting my hands in my pockets and beginning to feel a little awkward and terrified out of my mind, I hurried to shut the blinds.
"Uh, you can sit there," May said, gesturing to the armchair as she sat down on the sofa. Bucky shrugged. Taking off his face-mask and thus returning his facial features back to their natural state, he did as May said. "Peter, what's going on? I thought you were patrolling. Who is this?" She turned back to Bucky as I took the opposite end of the sofa. "No offense."
"May, this is James Buchanan Barnes, or Bucky. He's my friend-slash-mentor and taught me how to fight. It's kind of a long story that I can't really go into right now," I burst out as quickly as I could. "Just… I think my past is coming back to bite me. You might be in danger and I thought you deserved to know what's going on."
May turned white, looking over at Bucky again before hurrying to take my hand.
"Peter, I'll help you in any way I can; you know that," she said, drawing herself up. "I'm sure you have a good reason to trust James. Tell me what's going on."
For the second time, I hurried to repeat the basics of my past, the kidnapping of Hawkeye and the attack on Captain Rogers in Galway, but this time including a brief overview of my training with the Winter Soldier. Bucky added in a couple points here and there, and May was pursing her lips by the end of it, especially when I revealed that I wanted to help Bucky and Mr. Stark in any way I could. May was quiet for a moment once we finished, but she quickly sat up, brown eyes ablaze. She squeezed my hand, and I had a suspicion that if I didn't have super-strength the force of her grip would hurt. But it didn't, and in all honesty I found the increased pressure comforting.
"Well, it sounds like you have an important meeting coming up soon," she said, then looked to Bucky. "Where and when?"
"Princess Shuri—my ride—is waiting for us on the roof," Bucky replied. "She has the technology to allow us to speak to the other Rogue Avengers in Wakanda."
"Well, what are we waiting for?" May said, standing up and pulling me along with her. "These men's lives are in danger!"
"Wait, what?" I exclaimed, staring at the elder woman in surprise. She shot me an unimpressed look. "May, this'll be dangerous! I just wanted to tell you what was going on!"
"Peter, last time I left you to figure out a threat like this on your own, you were hospitalized for three days and almost died. I'm going with you, and we can talk about your revelations later."
"She won't do any harm," Bucky reassured me as I gaped at her, wondering just why she was so determined to put herself in the thick of things. "If anything, this'll be good. May's your legal guardian and would remember your arrival in New York better than you. If she's comfortable doing this, then I won't object."
Believe me, I wanted to keep May out of this. But I also didn't want her to think I was hiding something or that I didn't trust her; I'd already done more than enough of that. So against my better judgement, I sighed and nodded. May sent a fierce grin my way and let go of my hand, grabbing her purse off of the kitchen counter and phone out of it charger.
"Let's go," she said. "I have a key to the maintenance shaft; we can use that to get to the roof. You better go grab your Spider-Man suit just in case, Peter."
"S-Sure," I stammered, hurrying to my room and snatching up the backpack that held it from its place by my door. By the time I raced back, May was halfway through the front door. She held it open for me, then lead Bucky and I to the end of the apartment hallway, where there was a second, locked door next to the stairwell. May whipped out an unfamiliar key and unlocked it, revealing a metal ladder leading up to the roof. Bucky went up first, then May, and finally me.
I wondered how much easier it would have been for me to sneak onto the roof if I'd taken the time to notice that May had this key. But I shook the thought out of my head as the fading sunlight of the setting sun hit my face, jumping up the last few rungs of the ladder to the roof of our apartment building.
"There's nothing here," May commented. Bucky chuckled and made a symbol with his hands, gesturing towards the empty air. The sky shimmered, then the bare outline of a ship, more a mirage than anything, appeared against the sky. Then, one portion of it opened, a ramp appearing and lowering to the ground.
"Whoa," I breathed.
"Wakanda has the technology to make their ships nearly invisible," Bucky explained. I walked with him to the ramp, looking up to see the interior of a ship that definitely hadn't been here before. "So we don't have to be worried about getting discovered. Welcome aboard."
"I didn't even know this kind of technology existed," May said as we followed Bucky aboard. I nodded, mind whirling as I came aboard to see a decently-sized room, the walls sporting several computer screens and tech. There were several benches to sit on and some cupboards attached to one wall, but what really caught my attention was the cockpit directly in front of us, and the girl sitting in what I assumed was the pilot's seat. She was about my age, with dark skin and wearing a black sleeveless jumpsuit, her hair in dreadlocks and pulled back into a ponytail.
"Ah, you've brought company," she said, standing upon our arrival. "More broken white people for me to fix?"
"Not quite, Shuri," Bucky replied, only somewhat amusedly. "Shuri, this is Peter Parker and his aunt, May Parker. Peter, this is Shuri, Princess of Wakanda, next in line for the throne. She's a good friend of mine."
I started at such an introduction, and Shuri rolled her eyes, hitting Bucky good-naturedly in his flesh arm. She strode up to me with all the confidence of someone who knew exactly what they were doing, and stuck out a hand.
"Please, being a Princess is probably the least relevant thing about me," she said as I shook with her.
"Somehow, I believe that," I commented dryly. Shuri grinned.
"Oh, I like this one." She shook briefly with May, shooting a glance with Bucky. "Where did you pick these two up?"
"HYDRA or someone associated with them decided that they wanted me trained, though I didn't know until after Bucky got free of them," I said with a shrug, doing my best to appear nonchalant about it. "I… well, I think I might know something about the men who attacked Captain Rogers."
"You trust them?" Shuri asked Bucky, smile fading into a determined thinning of the lips. He nodded.
"With my life."
I couldn't hide an uncomfortable wince at that revelation. Luckily, Shuri and Bucky didn't notice, moving to one of the computers on the wall. May didn't say anything, though she brushed her hand against mine in a soothing motion.
"Alright," Shuri declared, typing away at the computer. "The meeting will be starting soon. You two stay where you are, and wait for me to introduce you." She stepped away once she'd finished her work, shooting them a wry grin. "I'm sure you both know, by the way, what will happen to you if you decide to divulge this information to anyone not authorized to know."
I gulped and nodded, as Bucky shot the princess a look. Shuri ignored him, gaze turning to the empty side of the ship.
Except, a moment later, it wasn't empty.
Holograms sprung up in the air, just like in science fiction, and I had to suppress a start of surprise. Some of the people I recognized; the Falcon, Black Widow, Scarlet Witch, and King T'Challa were chief among them. A blond woman stood at the Falcon's right, several bandages on her right cheek and forehead, while a brunette stood on her other side, arm in a sling but otherwise unharmed. And finally, next to King T'Challa was a bald African woman in battle gear, standing at attention with a spear in one hand.
I'd seen the last woman before, though I didn't know where. The two injured women had to be Sharon Carter and Jane Foster, though I didn't know to whom each name belonged.
"Shuri, Barnes." King T'Challa spoke first, nodding his head to his sister and Bucky. His eyes landed on us next, and narrowed in suspicion. I suppressed a shiver; suddenly I knew that I did not want to meet him in battle, whether verbally or physically. "And you are…?"
"Peter and May Parker." Shuri saved him from responding. "Bucky says they're trusted friends of his, and might know something about Steve's attacker as well as… other news. I'd like to go through introductions and a briefing, first, though. Just to make sure we're all on the same page."
King T'Challa nodded at that, conceding, though I could still feel Black Widow's gaze on the side of my head. I did my best to ignore her, instead focusing on Bucky as we began.
The brunette, it turned out, was Miss Foster, while the blonde was Agent Carter. The African woman was called Okoye, and I remembered that I'd seen her as one of King T'Challa's guards during his press conferences. I committed the names to memory as Agent Carter began speaking, reporting her recollection of the attack in Galway firsthand. Apparently Captain Rogers had lured the majority of the group away, though not before Miss Foster had been injured. Agent Carter had gotten her to a safe house on the other side of the city before turning back to find Rogers. By then, police were swarming the area, but Carter had used her status as a member of the CIA as a way to get into the area. At that point, though, Rogers and his attackers were long gone, leaving a only trail of bodies in his wake.
"He certainly put up a fight," Carter finished, brow creased in frustration. "He managed to get a name out of their leader, but I can't find any mention of him save for this occasion."
"Who was he?" Black Widow asked.
"Kenny Ackerman." My blood ran cold as vivid memories of a man in a wide-brimmed hat, holding a knife to my throat, flashed across my vision. "German last name and accent, so I assumed he was from the country, but nothing has come of that lead."
"Ackerman…" Widow muttered, tapping her chin in thought. "I've heard that name before, in passing, from the Russians."
"I know it." Even I was surprised at the anger in my voice, and had to force away the urge to wilt as everyone's attention turned to me. Instead, I grabbed hold of that anger in my stomach, using it to fuel my strength to speak. "I grew up in Ireland, on a farm with my mother and grandparents. One night, my father—this was the first and only time I've met him—came to take me and my mother away. Kenny intercepted us and killed my mother. He wanted to kill me, but my father insisted he not. Somehow Kenny was convinced, and instead shipped me to New York to live out life as a nobody. He said—" I couldn't resist glancing at Black Widow for this tidbit— "That now that 'Gwen' was dead, his allegiance was to HYDRA. I don't know who Gwen is."
The group fell silent at that, and May put her hand on my arm. I leaned into the touch, trying to remind myself that I was fifteen, not nine.
"That may explain the attack," Agent Carter noted pensively. "This Ackerman person, if he was a part of HYDRA, probably holds some negative opinions of Steve."
"Why exactly did Ackerman want to kill you?" Black Widow asked quietly. "Perhaps there is a connection between your case and Steve's."
"I… don't know," I confessed. "I was too young to, I think. Before that night I'd never even left the farm."
"There's also other news," Bucky spoke up as the rest of us lapsed into silence, not sure where to go from there. "Peter has an internship with Stark, and just found out from him that Barton and his family have gone missing under similar circumstances. We don't know much else, besides the fact that Tony and his team have investigated and haven't come up with any leads."
The temperature seemed to drop. Scarlet Witch's hands flew to her mouth, while Black Widow stiffened, face shutting down into an impassive mask.
"These two events have to be related," the latter announced after a moment. "I'm going to the farm. If they were attacked, they'd have left signs only I can interpret."
"I'll go with you," Scarlet Witch agreed, and the two shared a determined, angered look.
"If Stark is investigating," Miss Foster put in, glancing around the room. "Then I'll try to get in contact with him and see if I can help on that end. He hasn't connected me to you guys, yet."
"Wilson, Carter, Okoye, Shuri and I will coordinate the search for Rogers, then," T'Challa surmised. "Barnes, do you think you can stay with with Mr. and Miss Parker here? If Ackerman attacked them before, he may be a target simply by associating with us."
I shivered at that, but nodded. Having Bucky here, even if he was being kept out of the search, would be better than a stranger or someone I only knew over T.V. or fought once ten months ago being by my side.
"You good with me staying in the States?" Bucky asked, turning to Falcon.
"Yeah; we'll keep you updated. Keep the civilians safe, and don't get caught this time, Barnes."
Bucky rolled his eyes but didn't reply, turning back to T'Challa.
"For safety and communication reasons, I want every group to check with me once every twelve hours," he announced. Then his eyes turned back to me, and he smiled for a moment. "Thank you for this information, Peter. If you learn anything else, let us know. As for the rest of you, stay safe, and good luck."
Steve was seriously beginning to consider eating one of the books when his captors finally decided to grace him with their presence.
He'd almost finished reading his book, an old novel, written in Gaelic, called The Picture of Dorian Grey, when the out-of-reach door creaked open. Steve jerked is head up, watching as a boy, maybe 13 or 14, entered the room. He had light brown hair, longer on the top of his head than on the sides, along with piercing green eyes. He was in semi formal civilian clothes, which included black dress pants and a polo shirt. What caught Steve's attention the most, however, was the tray of food he was holding in both hands.
Still, just because he was hungry didn't mean that he could throw caution to the wind. Despite the rather obvious rumbling of his stomach, he stayed still, watching the boy with an expressionless gaze as the boy set the food on the desk.
Then, to his surprise, the boy closed his eyes and bowed to him.
"Lord Rogers," he began, voice lilting in a light Russian accent. He kept himself in the bow for a solid five seconds before rising. Steve blinked, caught completely off-guard, as the boy continued: "On behalf of my family and the Ackermans', we sincerely apologise for attacking you in such a violent manner. Lord Ackerman was instructed to approach you diplomatically, but it seems, as usual, he went about his own way of doing things. I would like to have you know that you've been treated with the best medical care we have to offer, and are expected to make a full recovery."
"...Excuse me?"
"Here," the boy said, taking a bowl and passing it to him. It was slightly familiar, and it took Steve a moment to recognize it as Colcannon, an Irish dish that had been a favorite of his mother's. "You must be hungry. Eat."
Steve eyed the bowl, then the boy suspiciously.
"Can I assume that there's nothing… unsavory in that?" He asked. The boy jolted, offence crossing his features.
"Lord Rogers, don't insult us! We wouldn't dare."
"And yet you dare to ambush me in broad daylight, as well as put innocents in mortal danger. I really don't see how poison would be worse."
The boy shifted, looking uncomfortable. "Like I said, Lord Ackerman has… unorthodox ways of conducting his business, but he was the only one who we could spare. With Lord Barton arriving so soon—"
"What?!" Steve interrupted him, standing up. "You're going to have to explain some things here for me. Why are you referring to me with a title? What do the Bartons have to do with this?"
The boy blinked, then looked at him in pity. "Your mother and Doctor Erskine really didn't tell you anything, did they?" He thrust the Colcannon in his face. "Eat, and I will explain your role to you."
There wasn't much he could say to that, and Steve finally decided it'd be best to give in, scooping up some of the Colcannon with a spoon and eating it. He raised a questioning eyebrow at the boy who nodded, drawing himself up.
"My name is Vladimir, son of Nickolai, of the Romanov family," he announced, proud and strong. "My family and six others like it, including your family, the Tyburs, are the guardians of something immensely powerful. And we need your help to protect it."