A/N: A regular update? Me? Inconceivable!
Y'all are amazing. Like. Seriously amazing. Thank you so much for the phenomenal reviews and all of the favorites and follows. Extra special thanks to Not Enough Answers for her always-helpful input and the magnificent Stencil Your Heart, beta-extraordinaire! The chapter title is by the Beatles.
For once there are...no warnings...holy crap.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything Marvel you see here. Sad day.
Chapter Five - With A Little Help From My Friends
Steve hooked his finger over a curtain and pulled it back a fraction, peering out onto 2nd Avenue. From the fourth floor he could see passersby going about their daily business beneath the shade of the trees and cabs weaving between the endless multicolored barrage of sedans and SUVs. Every so often a bike messenger cropped up, performing an expert and dangerous dance with traffic. Each trek through the city blended together to create a unique rhythm that he couldn't find anywhere else. There was a flow to the goings on, a song all its own that Steve knew by heart and picked back up every time he returned. New York City, for all its flaws, simply couldn't be replicated and no matter how many cities he visited, Steve loved it best.
"Captain Rogers? Perhaps standing at the window is not the best idea."
He tore his attention from a trio of uniformed school children tearing down the street. Nakia smiled from her post in the doorway of his room and when he gestured, she entered, high heels tapping lightly on the polished oak floor.
"Ever since the King announced the nature of Wakanda's secrecy and the introduction of its outreach programs, we have been the target of press photographers. I do not believe any of us want to explain why you were photographed in the Wakandan consulate."
Steve let the curtain fall, shielding him from the street once more. He nodded apologetically to her and, feeling unsure of what to do or say next, shoved his hands in his pockets. Glancing at his small bedroom, he took in the details of the hand-carved furniture and the shelves displaying several handmade vases and statues, all depicting pieces of Wakandan culture that Steve had yet to learn.
"It's a great place," he said of the consulate which, much like the rest of Wakanda, presented a humble facade only to contain a luxurious interior bolstered by technological advances many countries were only still dreaming about.
Nakia hazarded a smile, folding her hands in front of her and glancing around his room. More than once she opened her mouth to reply but the words on the tip of her tongue wouldn't quite come out, leading Steve to wonder if she was just as uncomfortable in the moment as he was. Steve only knew a little about Nakia, mostly what T'Challa told him when they boarded a jet to come to New York. She was the head of his outreach efforts, saddled with the Herculean task of orchestrating the daunting process of converting inner city buildings into community centers all aimed at serving the underserved. Up until T'Challa asked her to meet them in New York, she'd been working on her inaugural project in Oakland, wrestling with the city council over zoning issues that were taking far longer to iron out than expected. She seemed at home in her burnt orange sheath dress, shifting her weight from one foot to the other with unassuming ease, though Steve remembered T'Challa saying she spent years roaming from one place to another, helping as many people as she could. And now she was here, serving as one of T'Challa's trusted advisors.
Another moment of silence passed. Every time Steve tried to think of something to say to keep the conversation going he came up dry. Nakia's dark eyes flickered to him and she smiled, reading his discomfort.
"How long has it been since you've been back?"
Steve's eyebrows rose. "To New York?" Nakia nodded. "About three months ago. I drove in to meet a friend for dinner. I haven't been in this part of the city in a long time though. Never thought I'd end up here of all places."
"When was the last time you saw Miss Reid?"
Now there was an unintentionally loaded question if Steve ever heard one. The memory came to him as easily as so many other wartime events. Sometimes he swore he could still feel the stiffness in the elbows of his Class A jacket, smell the rain in the air and if he turned around, he would still be standing in the church after Bucky's funeral. Steve blinked and Sadie was there, sitting ramrod straight, bearing the same stoic expression she'd worn after she recovered from her breakdown. But when he blinked again the church dissolved and Sadie vanished though the ache of regret lingered.
"February 1945." He shoved his hands in his pockets and tried not to shuffle his feet like a toddler caught doing something naughty. Steve kept his eyes glued to the floor. Nakia raised an eyebrow, picking up on the caginess of Steve's response.
"I sense there's a story there."
Nakia certainly didn't have a problem cajoling him for personal details. Steve couldn't put a finger on why but he didn't mind the prospect of telling her more. He shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned against the wall a few feet away from her.
"It was right after Bucky's funeral. I'd just found out she was transferring to the Pacific front and—" he bowed his head "-we were both grieving and said things in the heat of the moment that I don't think either of us would have normally said. I know I wouldn't have."
"That was the last time you saw her?" Nakia's disbelief served as a nice complement to the old guilt worming its way back into the forefront of Steve's mind.
"I thought we'd have more time," he explained and bit back a sigh. Back then he thought he'd have all the time in the world. "After it happened I thought we both needed some time to move on and that after the war was over, we'd patch things up."
"But that never happened," Nakia surmised.
Steve nodded. "Now that I think about it, it's kind of a miracle any of us made it home, including Sadie. But she did and then this happened."
"At least you may have the opportunity to mend things."
That was hardly a consolation prize considering the high price they both had to pay to get it. The trials and tribulations of assimilating into a brand new world weren't a process that Steve would wish on anyone. All he really remembered about his first days out of the ice was feeling overwhelmed to the point of numbness; feeling nothing was better than having to contend with the fact that everything that felt like yesterday to him had occurred literal decades ago. Steve grieved the deaths of too many friends at once. He carried those losses with him and even years later, even after finding friends and purpose, he still felt like a man out of time, wandering from one crisis to the next to keep the passing time from feeling so utterly empty. That wasn't a reality he wanted for Sadie.
A soft knock on the door frame drew Steve and Nakia from their separate thoughts. Okoye met Nakia's eyes and nodded once, a silent announcement that T'Challa had returned from the Avengers compound with an invitation to join him. Her disapproving gaze fell on Steve for a fleeting heartbeat before she rounded on high heel and departed, back straight and full of more purpose than he'd ever seen in one individual.
T'Challa was waiting for them in a sitting room adorned with two sofas and several deep arm chairs. He stood when the trio entered. Nakia touched his elbow as she passed him to fix herself a drink, the only sign of their otherwise intensely private relationship. At first Steve didn't know what to do; he felt out of place among the Wakandan delegation, fully aware that he was likely going to ask a favor of the young king yet again.
"Is it really her?" Steve asked when nobody immediately leapt to speak.
"Yes," T'Challa confirmed, sinking back down into his seat. Nakia took a spot next to him, crystal lowball in hand. As he spoke he drew back his sleeve to reveal the beaded bracelet on his wrist. Within seconds a hologram of Shuri bloomed to life.
"What is she like, brother? Do the doctors know more about her enhancements? Is there any chance we can use her DNA to augment research into curing infectious diseases?"
"One question at a time," T'Challa commanded, silencing even his enthusiastic sister. "Unfortunately I did not have the opportunity to speak with Miss Reid. She was not present for the first part of our meetings and Tony Stark was careful to keep her from being cornered by any national delegations."
Steve nodded; that was a smart strategy, one he would have employed in Tony's shoes. He hated tangling with political figures as much as the next person and was suspicious of their motives. Sadie wasn't stupid by any means but she was in uncharted waters, possibly too overwhelmed by her new surroundings to be aware of those motives and how she might fit into them - for better and for worse. Keeping her cordoned off from the vultures wasn't just smart diplomacy, it was essential for Sadie's own preservation.
"But you saw her," Steve persisted in a low voice.
"Yes," T'Challa said and paused. "She is recovering from quite an ordeal."
He motioned to Okoye who drifted across the room to open a briefcase sitting atop one of the end tables. From within the depths she retrieved a blue folder, one which Steve recognized as a United Nations dossier. Bypassing T'Challa entirely, Okoye held out the folder to Steve, which he took with some trepidation. He flipped open the cover but immediately shut it, closing his eyes to try and get a grip on his faculties. The top picture threatened to send him spiralling into a miserable cycle of guilt, shame and grief, one feeding right into the other.
"Here," Nakia said softly, moving to sit next to him on his sofa. With gentle fingers she pried the dossier out of his hands and opened the front cover. Her eyes grew wide and flickered from the photograph of a comatose Sadie to T'Challa, then back and forth once more. "T'Challa, what happened to this poor girl?"
"Nothing good," T'Challa replied, a scowl tugging at his lips. "You will be relieved to hear she does look better already. Secretary Ross and Tony Stark might be holding her at the compound but they have assembled an excellent team of doctors to manage her recovery."
Shuri's hologram snorted. "Puh-lease, they've got nothing on what we can do here."
Steve appreciated Shuri's confidence but he didn't think any doctor on the planet could magically fix Sadie's ills. He hardly recognized her, body wrapped up tight in a thermal blanket so only her face and neck appeared, so gaunt and wasted she looked as though she'd aged fifty years in one go, literally starved of her youth and vitality. Nakia released a soft breath she'd been holding and began reviewing the notes. Steve's stomach sank with each bullet point.
"Backpackers found her in Romania?"
"Not far from where Sergeant Barnes was staying," T'Challa said, filling in a mental gap for Steve.
"You don't think he was looking for her—" Steve stopped himself, fighting a frown.
"That is what Secretary Ross believes and I am inclined to agree."
And really, the longer the thought marinated, the more Steve agreed too. "That idiot," he muttered. "Why didn't he tell me?"
"Did you ask whether he remembers her?" Shuri enquired, rocking forward in her chair.
Steve shook his head. "Everything happened so fast that there wasn't really time and even when there was, I couldn't bring myself to do it. I didn't want to reopen old wounds. But still—" his thoughts trailed off while he examined a photograph of the bunker and Sadie's ancient cryostasis tube.
"What's done is done, Captain Rogers. All that remains is what we can do moving forward."
Coming from anyone but T'Challa, Steve might have called his advice nothing more than fortune cookie wisdom but somehow the king made everything he said sound more authoritative. Slowly the dossier made its way back into Steve's hands. Some part of him registered that the conversation moved on without him but the information contained within the pages called to him, painting a picture that broke his heart. X-rays showing broken bones, healed scars, burn marks and other hallmarks of brutal conditions and all at the hands of the enemy he swore to eradicate. The consequences of his failure to completely destroy HYDRA before crashing the Valkyrie haunted him on a daily basis and now he had yet another monstrous outcome to contend with.
He didn't realize that his hands were shaking until a picture loosened itself from the dossier and fell to the floor. Nakia leaned over and retrieved it. When she flipped it over, Steve's heart leapt into his throat. Sadie's Army Nursing Corps personnel photograph was how he preferred to remember her, bright eyed and ready to take on the world.
"Captain Rogers?"
Steve realized then that all eyes were back on him. His brows drew together, complementing the deep stretching across his face. He drew a thumb over Sadie's picture. What wouldn't he give to have Sadie here with him now? He wondered if she was at all scared or if her iron constitution was managing to carry her through. If they were reunited, however, she wouldn't have to feel the need to put up walls. Steve could give her something he didn't have when he woke up - the benefit of perspective and experience when it came to acclimating to the new world. There wasn't anything he wouldn't give to hug her tightly and tell her everything was going to be okay. Blowing out a soft sigh, he met T'Challa's eye.
"I know I don't have the right to ask another favor of you."
Something akin to a smile flashed in T'Challa's eye. "I believe having Miss Reid as a personal guest in Wakanda would be beneficial to all parties involved. Wakanda is out in the open now but we still must earn the trust of other nations. Our borders have been closed for so long but accepting Miss Reid as our first official state guest may go a long way to instilling new trust."
"We also have the best scientists and most advanced laboratories in the world. If anyone should study Miss Reid's enhancements it should be us!" Shuri exclaimed. "Plus, I believe that if Sergeant Barnes remembers Miss Reid, given their history perhaps her presence may assist with his recovery process after I remove his trigger words."
Steve hadn't even considered that.
"Also, she has experience organizing an entire aid organization from the ground up. Your friend may have valuable insight for how to deal with stubborn politicians and city council members," Nakia added, looking sideways to T'Challa as she spoke. "That should be more than enough to convince the council that inviting her to stay is a wise move."
Steve blinked. He hadn't considered the Wakandan council's role in Sadie's fate either. A knot started to form in his stomach. There were so many gears that had to turn just the right way; was it too much to hope that things would finally work out for once? T'Challa, however, did not seem as concerned as Steve.
"I am not worried about the council. The research opportunities alone should be enough to persuade them. Sadie Reid must come to Wakanda. The bigger issue is how to get her there."
"About that—" Shuri turned away from them, snatching up a tablet from a counter. "I took the liberty of searching the Accords for any useful loopholes and I think I've found one. Although the Accords panel has the right to require Miss Reid to submit herself for an evaluation of her enhancements, there is no provision that requires she has to stay in her country of origin for evaluation. From what I can tell, as long as Miss Reid is not under arrest then she is free to choose where she goes for that evaluation since certain signing countries are not as well equipped as others. As long as Sadie is aware of this then all you need to do is convince her that Wakanda is the best place to go."
"If she even knows we exist," Okoye muttered under her breath.
"She would be in a quiet place, where the press cannot follow her," Nakia pointed out.
Steve nodded. "Or Secretary Ross."
T'Challa pressed the tips of his fingers together. He said nothing for a moment, chewing over these options. "But," he said slowly, still forming his thought even as he started to speak. "If she knew that I could reunite her with both Sergeant Barnes and you..."
"Then she'd come in a heartbeat, no doubt in my mind," Steve assured him. The answer to the conundrum came to him in a flash. "We used to have code words in the field. A call and response for when we got separated or were meeting up on certain maneuvers. For the safety of the unit we never told anyone else the words. I bet you anything if you use one of those words she'll know where you got it from."
"Oh, that could work!" Shuri announced. "It's simple and you won't risk anyone overhearing anything they should not."
"All you would need to do is find a moment to speak with her alone and we can give you that," Nakia looked at Okoye as she spoke.
"Of course," though Okoye sounded far from thrilled.
T'Challa clapped his hands together, bringing the conversation to an end. "That settles it then. We have a plan."
X X X
The morning after her first round of meetings with the United Nations, Sadie woke early to take a few moments alone to herself before the wolves descended once more. She retreated from the quiet indoors to the large balcony overlooking the Husdon. Beams of watery morning sunshine caught the water below, shattering over the surface like millions of gems, flanked by the emerald trees that swayed with the warm breeze ruffling her loose curls. Admiring the view, unobstructed by buildings and powerlines, Sadie could pretend she was catching an early morning glimpse of any of the half dozen rivers she saw during her time in Europe, or even the Arkansas River as it wound past Little Rock. There wasn't anything she wouldn't give to turn around and see a field hospital tent or a small riverside town brimming with local color as opposed to the harsh lines and cold exterior of the compound.
"You look like you'd rather jump instead of just admire the view."
She didn't look back to greet Tony; instead, a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. She waited until he joined her at the railing.
"Actually, I was just thinking about a mission we ran in France, about a month after the Normandy landings. We were dispatched to help British and Canadian infantry take Caen. Steve led a risky combat jump behind enemy lines in order to take out a panzer division while the aide team stayed right behind the front line to function as an aid station. After the Brits and Canadians liberated the town, we were due to rendezvous in order to ship back to London. We caught a ride on a couple of Churchills and were rolling across a bridge when across the way I spotted Fallsworth, Dernier, Morita, and Gabe all sitting on the canal wall singing at the top of their lungs with a bunch of British boys." Even now Sadie could feel the rumble of the tank beneath her, producing a steady roar that rang in her ears for a long time after. But the sight of her boys with their arms slung over the shoulders of the survivors warmed her heart and she let loose a small laugh. "Gabe and Morita caught sight of us and, like the idiots they were, sprang up to wave us over. And they'd all been drinking wine they looted from a bombed out shop, right? Dernier gets up, slips and splash!" Sadie exclaimed through her laughter. "They all go right into the canal; looked like drowned rats after we managed to fish them all out. But wouldn't you know they just kept on singing?"
Tony hazarded a small smile. "Sounds about right."
"Did you meet any of them?" Sadie asked, her curiosity for another morsel of information about her long-gone friends getting the better of her.
"A few times over the years. My dad liked to get them all together when he had the time to relive the glory days."
"The glory days," she said on a hollow laugh. "Is that what people are calling the war now?"
"Among other things. Why, it wasn't like everyone describes it in movies and TV? The last great, golden generation and all that?" Tony asked, sarcasm dripping off every word.
Sadie shot him a sideways glare. "I think you already know the answer to that. But no, it wasn't like that. Not for me, at least."
"That's a refreshing take. Though you shouldn't let your supporters hear you say that."
"Supporters?"
"Oh, you didn't hear? An entire group of surviving vets and families of the guys you helped save are currently protesting for your release. There's footage on every major news network of a bunch of guys out in front of the white house in wheelchairs holding signs. I think I even saw a few with posters taped to the front of their walkers."
Sadie didn't know why, but the thought made her want to cry. In her forced isolation she hadn't had to give much thought to the consequences of time and how the continual march of the decades would age her one-time contemporaries. How strange would it be to turn on the news only to discover the very men she'd treated were now as wrinkled and white as she herself should have been? To her, the soldiers she treated were immortal, forever young in part because so many of them died that way. The notion that time and age would ravage their once-strong bodies set her on edge and reminded her that by sheer virtue of the years passing the number of veterans continued to dwindle and all of the men she served with were long gone. She sucked in a sharp breath that hurt her lungs.
Tony brought her back by giving her shoulder a couple of light pats in a pathetic attempt at sympathy. "They're not wrong, you know. And it's not just guys from then. Vets and military personnel from every generation are picketing - guys who went to Vietnam, the Persian Gulf, even Iraq. They're all calling your detainment shameful because you're an American hero-heroine, I guess."
"Don't call me that," she said, far sharper than she intended.
Tony's eyebrows flew up in the face of her sour candor. It wasn't the first time Sadie heard the word applied to her and she supposed it wouldn't be the last, though she hated it now just as much as she did then. Squeezing her eyes shut tightly, she tried to fight the strong wave of mixed emotions that surged up from the pit of her stomach, washing loose some of the worst thoughts from the darkest place in her mind.
The deluge swept her out of the moment, carrying her back to the most desperate moments of her life. She felt broken all over again and helpless as she often did both during and after the war. A filmstrip of images chugged to life in the back of her mind, bringing with it the sensations that were ingrained in her now. Her heart pounded harder in her chest, pulsing throughout her entire body and when she inhaled deeply she swore she smelled smoke, burnt flesh and the aftermath of infections too far gone. Clenching her hands, she half expected small cracks to open up, skin dried out after washing her hands too many times or working in the freezing cold. She could hear the rumbling of mortars and the roar of tanks that rattled the earth beneath her boots, stirring up a fear that threatened to undo her.
"Toto?"
Sadie heard Tony but couldn't focus on him. She was a thousand miles away.
"You can feel it, you know," she said in a dangerously soft voice. "The moment a man's life leaves his body. I can't tell you how many times I got to a patient only to realize all I could do was give him morphine and hold his hand until he passed. Sometimes I'd catch myself thinking that they were the lucky ones. Their deaths were easy and painless in comparison. I helped save so many lives but all I really did was send boys home to a prolonged death. How many of them went back with ghosts and addictions they would never shake? I saved the lives of men only to doom them to disabilities they would never conquer. Hospitals treated wounds of the body but not the mind; we sent broken soldiers home with no tools to cope with post-war life. All I really did was patch bullet holes with bandaids and that's nothing compared to the mess we left behind."
She pushed her fingers through her curls with a trembling hand. When she withdrew it she examined the scars there, taking her back to bombs ripping apart the 80th field hospital. There she'd undergone the fruitless exercise of moving patients beneath flimsy cots only to later pick her way through their scattered body parts, searching for survivors buried in the debris. Her body locked up under the influence of her paralyzing fear, the same fear that sooner or later claimed the hearts of even the stoutest soldiers when faced with the prospect of death.
"It feels like it was just yesterday," she said, sounding as far away as she felt. "It's seventy years later and nothing's changed. Everybody only ever wants to talk about the good we did and the fact that we won. Nobody wants to talk about the things we left behind or the nightmares we carried home. You can call me whatever you want, Tony, except a hero. After everything I saw and did I am anything but."
For a moment neither she nor Tony so much as moved or even said a word. As the seconds ticked by her heart began to slow, bringing her down from the height of her triggered emotions and back into herself. Tony took his own time to process her speech and just when Sadie thought she would need to apologize for her brutal tone, he let out a low whistle.
"And here I thought I was jaded," he quipped and tilted his head towards her. "But hats off to you, Nurse, you've got me beat by a long shot."
Sadie opened her mouth to apologize and then argue but Tony shook his head.
"Don't apologize. After spending my whole damn life having to live up to all the guys from your generation who my dad put on a pedestal, you're a regular breath of fresh air."
Whatever Sadie imagined Tony would do or say in reaction to her vitriol, that wasn't it. And yet she couldn't help but feel as though she and Tony understood and respected each other a little more now. Maybe they didn't see eye-to-eye when it came to Steve and Bucky but as Sadie met Tony's gaze head on, she also met him in a silent understanding. They weren't what the other expected in so many ways, many of them for the better.
"I don't know how to be any other way," she said at last and Tony shrugged his shoulders.
"Then don't. But don't look a gift horse in the mouth - your fan club might have the words wrong but they're making a spectacle in the best way. Besides, they're putting Ross through PR hell and it's making for the most fun I've had in weeks."
Sadie rolled her eyes. "I think Rhodey's right, Tony. You need to get out more."
"You've got no room to talk," he countered.
"That's because I have nowhere to go."
"Ah, yeah, you've got me there," he conceded. "Though I don't think that's entirely true. Rumor has it a handful of countries are going to make you offers to relocate as a state guest while you undergo evaluations for your enhancements and in the meantime, you can start learning about the wider world."
Her eyebrow rose. "I'm not staying here?"
"You can. I'll even spring for a few field trips. I know Rhodey told you about the loophole he found in the Accords. You're not being charged with any crime—"
"-Because I never committed one," she groused.
"So," he continued talking over her, "it's really up to you whether you want to stay or take up another government's offer."
Sadie frowned. She never anticipated having choices.
"Why would any country want to do that?"
"Because you're the new big thing. Face it, Toto, you're a hot commodity and the country that can answer the questions about your enhancements first is also first in line to take advantage of them. Plus, you're going to bring a wave of good press with you wherever you go and that doesn't hurt either."
She pinched the bridge of her nose. "I take back what I said a minute ago. You also can't ever call me a hot commodity again."
Tony made a face and nodded. "That's fair, felt weird saying it to begin with. Bottom line's still the same though - you're the popular kid and everyone wants you to sit at their table."
Sadie identified a litany of problems with this news. Ever since learning about her new abilities, she'd been torn between wanting to know more and wanting to pretend she was just as normal as she'd ever been. The prospect of submitting herself to more tests and living her foreseeable future under a microscope was about as appealing as enduring boot camp again. She'd hardly had a moment to herself to make heads or tails of these abilities and the thought of any nation's government using the results of her testing to its own advantage made her skin crawl. What horrible things could be extracted from research into her abilities? And, more importantly, shouldn't the fruits of her enhancements be her own? Shouldn't she decide how and for what purpose they were used?
That was nothing to say of doing all of this with cameras pointed in her direction. Even during the war, she hated it when the press came to tour the SSR hospital or on the rare occasions a photographer was granted a pass to follow the unit into the field. Sadie didn't mind having her picture taken but she loathed being used as a poster girl for just about anything. Already she'd seen pictures of herself in a couple history books. Being an object of historical fixation was bad enough but having to face reporters, handle questions she couldn't answer, and allow her life to become a public spectacle horrified her on so many levels her stomach turned in a knot just thinking about it.
"If those are the terms on the table then I think I'd rather just find a cave and live in it, thanks," she groused, much to Tony's amusement.
"I'm sure that can be arranged. Can't say much for the cable signal or wifi though."
Her brows snapped together. "Wifi?"
"Oh God, it's like talking to an infant," he muttered and jerked his head toward the doors. "C'mon, I'll try and cover the basics over breakfast. I'm pretty sure the nutritionist has another standout meal lined up for you." When Sadie didn't immediately leave the railing, Tony stopped and turned back to her. "Look, I know this is one of those situations where I'm supposed to tell you everything's gonna be okay and you smile and nod and this all gets wrapped up with a nice bow but we both know that's bullshit. Instead I'm just gonna remind you that at the end of the day-no matter how much Ross hates it-you do get a choice in your fate and that's a whole hell of a lot more than most people get. So stop doing your best brooding Rogers impression so I don't have to eat breakfast alone."
Though not the speech she expected, Sadie thought perhaps it was the speech she needed. She left her post and came to his side, sweeping her loose curls behind her shoulders.
"Has anyone ever told you your bedside manner is God awful?"
Tony snorted and reached for the door. "Good thing you're the nurse and not me."
"Yeah," said Sadie, casting one final wistful glance towards the glorious morning. "Good thing."
X X X
T'Challa thought that finding a moment to speak with Sadie Reid alone would be easy. On the scale of difficult tasks he'd faced and conquered in the past two months, trying to isolate a single woman in order to exchange brief pleasantries and pass along a code word ranked somewhere with deciding what to wear on any given morning or brushing his teeth. After all, Sadie was just one person in a comparatively small grouping of people; how hard could it really be?
"This is next to impossible," Nakia muttered under her breath as she returned to his side after doing another lap of the large meeting space just outside of the auditorium. "Between every other politician here vying for her attention and your friends keeping guard, we will never get an opportunity"
"They are not my friends," T'Challa remarked of Tony Stark and James Rhodes. "Just acquaintances."
"Well, whatever they are to you, they are making this much more difficult than it should be."
T'Challa possessed no argument for that. He noticed the unusual protectiveness of both Stark and Rhodes from the start of the first round of meetings that morning. They'd both stayed close Sadie, policing the number of people who approached their curious companion. T'Challa assumed they were trying to minimize the amount of time the other delegates spent reiterating their proposals, attempting to tempt Sadie with the virtues of their respective home countries all while glancing over the more clever and sometimes downright alarming conditions of the invitation. And although Tony and Rhodey's protective practices were an extra roadblock for T'Challa, he did appreciate that Sadie had more than one ally among the vultures, though he wasn't entirely sure that Sadie needed much in the way of protection.
During the first, lengthy morning session of the U.N. panel, multiple leaders and representatives took their turns laying out semi-attractive options to the young woman as she sat flanked by Tony and Secretary Ross. Some countries offered the promise of luxurious accomodations and the chance to see the world while others focused on state-of-the-art technology and an evaluation process that would be both speedy and efficient. However, as men and women of every race, creed, and religion took their turn, T'Challa noticed one striking thing about Sadie Reid: she looked as unenthused by each proposal no matter what enticements were attached. He'd never seen a person so wholly unruffled by the bells and whistles attached to the offers or by the supposed importance of the people making those offers. At one point T'Challa was almost certain Sadie raised a delicate hand simply to cover a smirk when the delegates from France pointed out she could enjoy the beauties of Europe as she adjusted to the new world. Though T'Challa had yet to speak directly to Sadie, he was struck by her composure and the determined silence that made her almost impossible to read.
Of course the downside to her poker face was that T'Challa also had no idea how she truly recieved his invitation either. Without speaking to her directly, he couldn't know the impact of his proposal. Well, that wasn't entirely true, he thought as he caught the furtive eye of a Russian delegate. From the second T'Challa stood to address the entire panel, a ripple of surprise steadily built into outright show as he extended the warm invitation ofWakanda to her, just one more step in its international coming out effort. A flurry of whispers arose when he sat down though T'Challa focused only on Sadie who tilted her head, eyes flashing with mild curiosity. At the time he silently patted himself on the back for holding onto her undivided attention and for offering her one of two things that no other country could: no pesky members of the press could follow or harass her in Wakanda.
His other bargaining chip had to wait for the right time but it was even more powerful than the gift of privacy.
Okoye slipped through a narrow gap between two parties and came to his other side. Others might have interpreted her stony expression as one of concentration but T'Challa knew better. Though she'd yet to voice her opinion, he didn't need a crystal ball to know she wasn't happy with the situation. Wakanda opening itself up to the rest of the world was a big enough disruption to her life but taking in yet another foreigner bordered on a bridge too far. She crossed her arms over the black sheath dress she wore. When she addressed him, she did so in Xhosa.
"You will be pleased to know that next to Miss Reid, you are the most popular subject. Everyone thinks you have an ulterior motive."
"Of course I have an ulterior motive. Everyone here does," he also replied in Xhosa in an effort to keep their conversation private.
"Some are even questioning whether you are trying to exploit the girl in order to curry favor with the United States."
Disapproval pulled T'Challa's lips into a tight line. "I do not need to use Miss Reid as collateral in a negotiation. Our technology speaks for itself. Besides, there are more important reasons to bring her to Wakanda than just making friends."
Okoye's fingertips dug a little deeper into her upper arms. "It could be dangerous and you are already walking a fine line by having him staying in Shuri's lab."
They'd dug down to the root of Okoye's problem. T'Challa, however, remained undaunted and through it all maintained that he'd made the right decision to grant Bucky asylum.
"By 'him,' do you mean a victim in need of help that only we can provide?"
Okoye's shoulders went rigid. She bowed her head in deference. She'd always had the freedom to be frank with T'Challa but now that he was king there were new lines that not even she could cross. Sometimes T'Challa hated the new boundaries that came with being king but they were unavoidable. At the end of the day, love or hate his decisions, Okoye was charged with protecting and serving the king and openly questioning his judgement could lead them both down a slippery slope. Fortunately Okoye was a fast learner and wasn't plagued with thin skin. Satisfied that they were back on the same page, he nodded once so she would ease up.
"You do not have to like it, Okoye," he observed, casting her a sideways glance that she met. "But there is greater danger in Miss Reid going anywhere but Wakanda."
"Of course, my King," she murmured and T'Challa almost believed her. But he didn't have time to ruminate on their conflicting opinions. Already she'd moved back onto her objective to help him secure even a minute alone with Sadie Reid. "She is staring at you."
Okoye tipped her head toward the sofa where Sadie sat with Rhodey, picking at a plate of food in her lap. There was no smooth way to confirm this observation. Trying for a furtive gaze, T'Challa discovered that sure enough Sadie's piercing grey gaze beheld him. An inquisitive air surrounded her, parting her pale lips and drawing her dark eyebrows closer together, forming a little line between them. T'Challa regarded her curiosity as a good thing; he could capitalize on the unknown factor surrounding Wakanda and her continued interest. As long as she didn't write him off, he considered his chances for convincing her to accept his invitation strong. After all, he didn't have a backup plan and had no clue how he would stop Captain Rogers from seeking his long lost friend if she went anywhere else. The potential consequences of that outcome were dizzying. And so he took another risk and met her gaze head on. The corner of his mouth rose a tiny bit when her eyebrows drew higher up her forehead. Just before he broke their stare he offered her a cordial nod and turned away.
"I am going to get something to drink," he announced to Okoye and Nakia's surprise.
"What?" Nakia echoed after him when he retreated to the far side of the room where a long table stood along one wall, laden with a dozen different beverage options. T'Challa took his time preparing a cup of coffee, selecting his white cup with care and then debating between the three different roasts before landing on the dark blend.
Out of the corner of his eye, a figure came into his periphery.
"Excuse me," a warm feminine voice interrupted him. "Your majesty."
T'Challa had never heard an accent like Sadie Reid's. Her voice was slow and almost syrupy as she tugged on the vowels. But upon his first up close inspection he decided the accent suited her well, softening her sharp angles and tempering the fierce light burning in her blazing eyes.
Before she could reach across him, T'Challa retrieved a coffee cup and turned it over, holding it out to her by the small handle. "Here you are, Miss Reid."
Sadie exchanged the cup for a handshake and she surprised T'Challa with the firmness of her grip despite how delicate her bony hand felt in his. "It's a pleasure to meet you and a first. I can't say I've ever met royalty before."
"A first of many for you these days," he surmised.
When she smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkled. "Now what gave you that impression, your majesty?"
T'Challa couldn't help himself - he smiled in return. Hearing her joke about her circumstances put him at immediate ease. There were so many unknowns about Sadie Reid and about taking her in but at least he didn't have to worry about a defect in her character or countenance. Now that they were talking one-on-one he was pleasantly surprised to find that her unenthused demeanor was reserved for the masses, a mask to hide the myriad of emotions he was certain she was still working through. In person, however, Sadie was far warmer than he anticipated.
She went about her business, selecting the decaffeinated option for her coffee. T'Challa offered her the cream which she took, dropping just a splash into the dark liquid. While she stirred her coffee she considered the cream as it swirled around the edges of the cup before dispersing.
"I was surprised to hear that Wakanda is interested in hosting me. I only remember seeing Wakanda on globes in classrooms and then later on tactical maps."
T'Challa was surprised that she'd heard of Wakanda at all. But he chose a different detail embedded in her speech to capitalize on.
"You were in Africa?" He was surprised he didn't know that detail; T'Challa thought he'd covered all of the highlights of Sadie's service record on the flight from Wakanda to New York.
A small, knowing smile pulled at her pale lips. "Only briefly. My troopship from Brooklyn docked in Tunisia. We were there long enough to complete field training exercises before moving on to Sicily. I think I would have enjoyed spending more time there, however."
"Less fighting?" T'Challa enquired, genuinely curious.
"Fewer cases of malaria in the desert," she quipped in a deadpan voice. T'Challa couldn't help it; he ducked his head to keep any eagle-eyed watchers in the room from seeing his light chuckle. But Sadie heard it and let out a little laugh to mirror his own. When they both recovered, she sipped her coffee and regarded him over the top of her mug before switching topics once more. "I did think your proposal was interesting. Can you really keep me out of the public eye?"
"While you're in Wakanda? Yes. Although we have opened our borders to share our technology with the rest of the world, we have not opened up to free travel. You would have as much privacy as you desire, Miss Reid."
"And what do you get out of it?"
T'Challa didn't expect her to be so direct but he was glad she was; he never had any patience for people who played games. He'd come out here with a single mission and thus far Sadie was making it far easier than he anticipated. "Our scientists have the most advanced medical research laboratories in the world. It is my hope that we can isolate the advanced healing properties of your genetic code and use them to advance our research into cures for currently incurable diseases."
"To be disseminated how?"
"Not for profit, if that is what you are implying."
They held each other in steady estimation. Sadie's shrewd eyes narrowed a fraction before she relaxed and the corners crinkled to match her pleased nod. "It was. Although you're not the first to make that offer to me."
"But I am the most likely to deliver on it," T'Challa allowed just the tiniest sliver of his supreme confidence to show.
Out of the corner of his eye Nakia passed by, tipping her head toward one side of the room. T'Challa followed the line and frowned; Tony Stark was making his way toward them. There was no more time to waste with pleasantries. Reaching out, he touched Sadie's elbow. She started in response but didn't immediately pull away which T'Challa took as a sign to press on.
"Miss Reid, it is my sincere hope that you accept my offer, though I know there is little else I can say to convince you except…" he paused, took a breath and prayed to his ancestors that Steve wasn't leading him down a dead end. "Stars."
The air between them stilled. T'Challa couldn't even feel the beat of his own heart while he waited for the payout of his gamble. Tony was closer than ever, waylaid briefly by Nakia but she couldn't hold his attention for too much longer. The realization came over Sadie slowly as her lips parted in soft surprise and her eyebrows rose to accommodate her wide gaze. She placed a trembling hand over his at her elbow.
"Stripes." Her voice barely carried above a whisper. T'Challa's shoulders visibly sank in relief. He nodded once, not daring to say a word that could be overheard and misinterpreted. The hand holding his went to her chest, coming to rest over her heart. "Are—" she could barely croak the words out. "Are they?"
T'Challa decided it was worth taking one final risk. He nodded once more, stepping back just as Tony arrived in his peripheral vision.
"Toto, the Secretary wants a word." Tony planted a hand between her shoulder blades in order to steer her away from T'Challa and to prevent any other world leader or delegate from sweeping in to monopolize her time. He afforded T'Challa a deferential bow of his head. "Your majesty."
But T'Challa only cared about Sadie, the curious and unusual creature at the center of all of this chaos. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Reid."
"You as well, your majesty," she said in a stunned, hollow voice. "Quite the pleasure."
And with that Tony led her away to where Secretary Ross waited, arms crossed over his chest and a frown darkening his face. T'Challa realized then that his closer interaction with Sadie had not gone unseen. There was nothing he could do about that now and he had to rely on nothing more than blind faith that Sadie would make the right choice. Nakia and Okoye joined him. T'Challa did not see Sadie sink into a chair that Secretary Ross directed her to in order to take one final beat to process the news.
Okoye found her voice first.
"Do you think it worked?" She asked in Xhosa.
The spark of his confidence returned in full force. Antics of other people and dramatics aside, T'Challa felt in his heart that it was a done deal.
"Yes, I believe it did."
X X X
Two afternoons after Sadie's fated meeting with King T'Challa of Wakanda, she watched the elevator doors open to reveal the spacious foyer of the main compound building. She'd only been through the foyer a couple of times during her tenure on the trip to and from the medical wing. Floor-to-ceiling windows opened onto the semi-circle drive that split off from the main road. A thrill batted around the knot of anxiety in her stomach. In just a few minutes she would be on that road, speeding away from the compound and destined for yet another great unknown. All the previous night and that morning she'd tried to stop the small war raging in her body between the excitement she felt at finally seeing the outside world and the urge to throw up owing to the incredible amount of nerves coursing her system.
Now she stood alone, on the other side of the foyer from Secretary Ross who had what Tony called a smart phone glued to his ear. Sadie still didn't understand the fascinating mechanics of how people could use phones without cords much less phones that tiny but, like many things in this new world, she let it go with the hope that one day she'd figure it out. Besides, she had more important and exciting things to worry about than how cellular phones worked.
For what felt like the tenth time in the past two minutes she smoothed out her royal blue dress and patted the neat chignon at the nape of her neck. Sadie still hated the way the dress didn't quite fit but it was the nicest of the four gifted to her by Pepper and she thought the color suited her well. Vanity combined with the deep desire to impress her new hosts drove Sadie to spend more time than normal on her appearance, doing her best with her limited tools to fashion her hair into a becoming style. She'd been pleasantly surprised to discover that weakness no longer caused her hands to tremble which allowed her to properly apply her makeup, bringing the black eyeliner to perfect small wingtips and covering the scar above her eyebrow. In fact, as she'd stood before her mirror examining her reflection, she thought she looked better than she had since waking up, as close to her old self as she could get. Sadie only hoped that her efforts would help put her hosts further at ease and facilitate a smooth beginning.
Already her sole bag sat by the door, just another parting gift from Tony. He wouldn't hear of her protests and pointed out that it was either she take the small suitcase or he would go rustle up a trash bag from the kitchen. His sarcastic quip not only set them back at ease but further highlighted that Sadie had nothing to her name except for the contents of the suitcase. A frown played at her lips and she looked away from the suitcase and drew closer to the windows where she could see across a narrow breezeway into another room.
Her brows rose in surprise. Sadie checked over her shoulder to ensure that Ross remained engrossed in his personal conversation. Satisfied that he wasn't going to notice her, she slipped out the door and hastened across the drive.
"And here I thought you weren't going to say goodbye," Rhodey said with a grin when she entered the room.
A voice in Sadie's head told her she was supposed to respond and yet she stood stone still and utterly silent. Shock sent every last thought tumbling out of her mind to shatter on the floor all around her flat shoes. Rhodey's grin morphed into mild concern before clearing in understanding. He glanced down at the metallic frame supporting his body weight.
"How marvellous," she breathed, watching wide-eyed as he took one shakey step and then another.
"It's an early prototype and I'm still trying to get the hang of it."
Rhodey grasped the parallel rails on either side of him and attempted another series of tiny steps that brought him closer to her.
"How does it work? Does it move for you?"
Sadie drew closer to inspect the joints on the frame along with the connections to the brace that supported Rhodey's back and kept him upright. Far from irritated by her curiosity, Rhodey demonstrated the movement for her once more.
"There are sensors embedded in the brace that pick up on minute electrical signals and micro-muscle movements," he explained, pointing to various points on the frame. "Those signals then tell the frame to move." He tilted his head to the side and scowled. "Or, at least that's how I think it works. I know Tony said something along those lines. He's hoping I'll be able to transition into this so I'm not stuck in the chair all the time."
"That's wonderful!"
"Yeah, if I ever get the hang of it," Rhodey muttered. "Everytime I think I've got it Tony messes with the programming or brings a totally new frame and I have to start over. Still no cup holder though," he lamented.
Although Sadie couldn't claim to know Rhodey particularly well, there were certain aspects of his personality that she knew with absolute certainty. One of those was his indomitable determination. "I think you'll be just fine. You're the type that can do anything you put your mind to."
Rhodey stumbled on a step. Sadie rushed forward to help catch him, bracing part of his weight on her shoulders as he spun toward one of the parallel bars. He let out a small huff as his stomach hit the bar. Sweat beaded at his temples and a single droplet slid down toward his jaw. "When you say that, you sound like my mom."
"Well, in all fairness, I'm probably older than your mother."
Rhodey snorted in laughter. "You're probably right. There's something really wrong about that."
"There's a lot wrong about this whole situation but, I digress, it is what it is."
She helped maneuver Rhodey upright. Gripping his hands tightly, she turned him back to face toward the front of the room. With her added support he took another shaky step and then another. They made slow progress all the way to the end of the parallel bars where Rhodey took a break, accepting the hand towel Sadie passed him to mop the sweat from his forehead. While he rested, he took a cursory look over his companion.
"So, you're sure about going?"
"To Wakanda?" Sadie asked and he nodded. She shrugged. A little nervous tingle continued to ping around her stomach. The bout of anxiety accompanied the questions she'd been asking herself for the past two days, since making her decision to accept King T'Challa's invitation. The most important of those questions was whether or not the king had been serious when he intimated that he knew where Bucky and Steve were. What if she was being had? Those reservations, however, weren't the type she could voice aloud. She simply had to go on blind faith that the only way T'Challa would know those code words was if either Bucky or Steve themselves told him. Instead of letting those concerns show, she painted a sunny smile across her face.
"I am. Having to learn my way through the world will be infinitely easier without the press breathing down my neck and I know there's only so much longer I can go on here before that happens. Besides, as much as I like you, I don't really want to be in a position where Secretary Ross can drop in whenever he wants."
"That's as good of a reason as any to get out of here," Rhodey agreed. "I was kind of surprised, though. I thought maybe you'd go to Europe."
Sadie shrugged. "I could have. The language barrier would be easier but let's be honest, I've already seen Europe."
Rhodey snorted. "I think Europe looks a little different now than it did in '45."
"I should hope so. But truly, I think I'm making the right decision. I know from experience that assimilating back into society is hard enough; I don't want to do it while the whole world is watching me."
A funny little silence passed between them and Sadie got the impression he was trying to see beyond the surface of her representations. She wouldn't blame him for believing her to have another motive, which begged the all-important question of what did T'Challa offer her that nobody else could? To fill the silence she retrieved his water bottle. Rhodey toyed with the cap though every few seconds his eyes flickered to her and back again.
"You said you know from experience that assimilating can be tough. I've been meaning to ask you but wasn't sure how-" Rhodey weighed his words, tilting the water bottle back and forth before landing on his question. "What was it like? Going home after everything you saw?"
Trying to sum up the whole of her homecoming experience into a few words felt impossible. An entire spectrum of emotions guided her through the homecoming process, from the uncertainty and thrill of boarding the troop ship bound for San Francisco to the sorrow she felt standing alone on the deck, watching the Golden Gate Bridge come into view. There was the joy of seeing old friends and reuniting with her family and the bliss of so many weddings and newborn babies intertwined with the echoing hollow in her chest that grief carved out. Sadie could still recall with perfect clarity all the nights she cried herself to sleep and the mornings she spent making futile promises to get better. An entire lifetime passed in those early months, putting Sadie through a different fire that tempered her most volatile emotions and forged her into something more steadfast and steady. But how could she possibly tell Rhodey all of those things?
A wistful smile never quite reached her eyes. "It was beautiful and sad. Whether I wanted it to or not, the world moved on without me. Sometimes it felt like I really never came home."
"Is that why you went back?"
"To Europe?" Rhodey nodded. "One of the reasons. I struggled at home and always felt like a stranger standing on the outside looking in at my own life."
"Yeah, I know the feeling."
Sadie understood now why he was asking her. They'd both undergone traumatic experiences that uprooted their entire lives and redefined their futures in new ways. This wasn't Sadie's first experience with adjusting to an entirely new reality and Rhodey was just beginning his journey. Despite their short acquaintance they'd connected, finding common ground in their respective tragedies and uncertain futures. Sadie didn't blame Rhodey for wanting confirmation that the days wouldn't always be so long, that he wouldn't always be staring down a road obscured by too many roadblocks and uncertainties. If Sadie could give him even a scintilla of hope then she would consider her brief tenure at the Avengers compound something of a success, or at the very least, worth the trouble she'd endured. Bridging the small gap that separated them, Sadie touched his shoulder and leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek.
"I'm certainly not the poster child for healthy coping but it does get better. One day you'll wake up and things won't feel quite as impossible as before and the next day it will be better and so on until one morning you wake up and you'll realize you've moved on."
"I've never been the most patient guy in the world."
"And unfortunately some things just take time."
Rhodey nodded. Lines formed at the corners of his eyes and mouth, betraying the worries that plagued him. "You know it's kind of a shame you're leaving. I was starting to get used to having someone else around."
"I'll be back," she promised, giving his forearm a gentle pat. "Secretary Ross has already made it clear he expects me to show my face every now and again and I suppose I can't begrudge him that."
"Good. I'm looking forward to watching you put that man in his place."
Sadie laughed. "I think you've done an excellent job of that on your own or am I mistaken that you're the sole reason I'm able to leave at all?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," Rhodey said with a dramatic, evasive flair.
"I'm sure you don't. But either way, I wanted to thank you for being so welcoming. You made my first weeks infinitely more bearable."
Rhodey started to open his mouth but stopped when a sleek black car pulled to a halt in front of the doors. He tipped his chin up toward the car. "Looks like your ride is here."
King T'Challa and his advisor Nakia emerged from the back of the car. Sadie's stomach tied itself in a knot. Once more she said a little prayer to any god listening that she'd made the right decision. Rhodey touched her elbow to regain her attention. He gave her upper arm a gentle squeeze.
"Take care of yourself. I'm sure we'll run into each other soon."
"We will," she promised and started to walk away when Rhodey called out to her once more.
"And Sadie? If you see any old friends will you tell them I say 'hi'?"
Sadie smiled at him and shrugged her shoulders. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."
"Yeah, I bet you don't. Good luck in Wakanda, I'll see you soon."
"Bye, Rhodey."
She left Rhodey grinning at her retreating back for a moment before he returned to his work. When she stepped out it was to discover a party of four awaiting her. Tony had appeared from somewhere else in the compound. Already T'Challa's driver took it upon himself to load her lone bag in the trunk of the car. Sadie's anxious heart tripped over a beat when all four sets of eyes fell on her.
"Miss Reid, are you ready?" T'Challa asked and although he maintained his cool demeanor his companion, Nakia, smiled at her.
"I am, thank you, your majesty."
Secretary Ross went on to remind T'Challa of the expectations of the UN council, a series of onerous tasks including regular progress reports and the expectation that Sadie would venture out of Wakanda when invited to certain events. Why anyone would want to invite her to summits or state dinners was beyond Sadie but already she was anticipating Wakanda's first state dinner to be held in two months' time. While Ross continued to lay out the laundry list of demands, Tony took her aside. He held out a small brown paper bag by the handles.
"A going away present," he said, thrusting the bag into her grasp.
"Tony, you didn't have to-oh-"
"You're the only person on the planet who would be disappointed. That's a nice phone so don't drop it." From within the depths of the bag Sadie withdrew a white box that had what she assumed was a picture of the phone on the front of it. She lifted the lid and sure enough there the phone was, sitting in a little white cradle and looking as foreign to her as anything else.
"You know I don't know how to use this," she remarked, letting a little sliver of dryness sneak through.
"Someone'll teach you. I bet if you ask nicely, you can even get someone to teach you how to play Angry Birds." In the face of her exasperated expression he relented. "It's for if you need to get in touch with someone at the compound and don't want to go through Ross which, nobody would blame you for that."
The notion that Tony would want to maintain their connection changed her perspective on his perplexing gift. "Thank you, Tony. That's actually...quite sweet of you."
"I wouldn't go that far. But you're the first one-hundred year old popsicle that I can stand to be around so I'd hate to let that go."
Sadie held up a sharp finger. "I'm ninety-six and don't you forget it."
Tony chuckled. "I won't." He ushered her to the car where Nakia stood next to the open door. "See you around, Toto."
"Yeah, you too."
And with that she ducked into the car, sliding into the seat that T'Challa designated for her. Nakia joined her and shut the door, enclosing Sadie with two complete strangers. As the car pulled away she swallowed hard, fighting to push down the fear that threatened to seize her heart. There was no going back now. Whatever happened now was based on the merits of her decisions and as Sadie watched the compound grow smaller in the back window, she hoped she'd made the right choice.
"I'm glad you've decided to join us, Miss Reid. Are you ready to see what you've missed?"
Nakia's question contained a different layer of meaning that jumped out at Sadie. Her fears settled when she thought about the possibility of Steve and Bucky somewhere out there waiting for her. With that thought in mind she folded her hands in her lap and smiled at Nakia.
"Yes, I think I am."
X X X
The drive to the Wakandan embassy was a quiet affair. For Sadie's part there was simply too much to take in that she didn't want to waste a second on conversation. Thankfully her new companions understood this because T'Challa and Nakia both took to pointing out small odds and ends but otherwise left the wonder of discovery entirely up to Sadie. First it was the luxurious interior of the town car coupled with her sheer amazement at how quiet the engine ran. Sadie ran her fingers over the smooth leather seat and thought about all the time she spent in old Army-issued jeeps and troop trucks and she almost missed feeling every bump in the road.
However, the changes in automobiles were the least of Sadie's shocks. As the town car sped along the highway the Manhattan skyline slowly emerged into view. At first she couldn't tell the difference between the skyline she remembered but the larger the city grew, the more she could see the shocking changes. More skyscrapers reached toward the heavens and the old brick buildings she remembered were long gone. Towers made of shining glass reflected the late afternoon sun, man-made monoliths that soared over the Hudson.
"Good heavens," she whispered, more to herself than anyone else.
In the years after the war, Sadie spent a good deal of time in New York. While she worked to get IHAP off the ground the city was her base of operations and she spent countless hours with Howard hammering out details, bouncing from one upscale restaurant to the next. She'd ambled the streets with Rebecca, losing themselves while they talked about everything and nothing. Sadie certainly didn't know New York the way natives knew it but she remembered enough to know the skyline was nothing like it used to be and that the city that awaited her was an entirely different beast. A different energy radiated from the city even as the town car merged with traffic onto a bridge that carried them across the Hudson.
"We will only be in New York for two nights," T'Challa explained, momentarily drawing Sadie's attention from the eye-popping variety of cars clogging the road. "Then we will return directly to Wakanda. The head of our research division is eager to start her work with you."
"Her?" Sadie echoed.
"My sister, Shuri. She is quite...enthusiastic."
Nakia raised a hand to hide her smile. Sadie didn't know what to make of T'Challa's tentativeness but she couldn't deny her happiness upon hearing that a woman headed up an entire country's scientific research division.
"You will like Princess Shuri," Nakia assured her, misreading Sadie's silence for concern. "Everyone does."
Whatever Sadie wanted to say died on the tip of her tongue. The car exited the bridge and leapt into the thick of city traffic. Light and eye-watering color assaulted her from all sides. From between the other cars, Sadie caught glimpses of the foot traffic. She suddenly felt self-conscious about her simple dress. Styles of every cut and color filled up the street and Sadie caught the sight of more than one woman wearing jeans and pants that hugged their legs like a second skin. Skirts shorter than she'd ever seen interspersed with men wearing everything from sharp suits to plain white t-shirts. The only hats she saw were baseball caps and far from the prim and proper hairstyles of her time, she saw most women wore their hair down in flowing locks and Sadie had to do a double take when she saw a woman cut through the street sporting bright purple hair.
The people were added color to cars parked on the street in front of stores that never seemed to end. Sadie tried to catch the names but there was simply too much to take in. Glossy ads featuring rail-thin models took up entire windows while other stores took to using elaborate window displays or had enormous screens flashing lights so bright her eyes almost watered taking it all in.
"A little different than you remember?" T'Challa asked.
"Your majesty, that is the understatement of the century," Sadie breathed. "I don't recognize anything."
She did not see T'Challa and Nakia share a knowing, mildly amused look at her doe-eyed awe. Every time she blinked, Sadie expected to see the New York she left, doused in the muted colors of the time. All around her the city pulsed with life but it wasn't anything she understood. Sadie felt smaller and smaller the longer the car wove through the unimaginable traffic. She had a feeling that the city could swallow her up at any given moment, too big and too wild to be contained by any one person. Seeing how far the world had moved on without her threw Sadie's situation into sharp perspective. How on earth was she supposed to catch up to all of this progress?
Sadie didn't even realize that she'd fished her necklace out from beneath her dress until she was already twisting her father's wedding ring on her finger. Often she missed her father and thought with longing for his advice but she'd never wanted him so dearly before. What would he say if he could see her now? Even despite her extraordinary circumstances he would have some nugget of wisdom that could calm her restless soul and ease her concerns.
The one piece of her father's advice that she did have, however, returned to her now. Sadie often employed the simple tactic in stressful situations or just before waves of wounded soldiers descended upon the field hospital. Letting her eyes flutter shut she took a deep breath and silently counted to five, taking a breath between each number. She focused on the things she could control and on the fact that for now she was safe and shielded from the greater world. Nobody expected her to learn everything right away. There would be time to learn her way through this new life and with any luck she would make new friends who would help her navigate these unfamiliar waters.
"Miss Reid?" Nakia gently drew her back into awareness. "We are here."
Sadie wasn't prepared for the gaggle of people packed in front of a handsome four-story brick building. The swarm of photographers moved as one, swinging around to face the town car when it slid by. She winced and shied away from the camera bulbs that flashed in her direction. Muffled shouts sounded to Sadie like nothing more than garbled sounds but she could see the fervor on the faces of these people determined to get a glimpse of her of all people.
"Do not worry, the windows are treated with a tint that their cameras cannot pierce. Nobody can see us in here," T'Challa scowled at the reporters that watched the car pass by. He knocked on the partition and requested the driver take another lap around the block before circling to the backside of the building. "Fortunately we are prepared for situations such as these."
Sadie didn't ask what those preparations were. She was too gobsmacked by the sheer number of reporters.
"I can't believe all those people are out there because of me." Now more than ever she was grateful for the king's promise to keep her away from the world's prying eyes.
"Sooner or later you will have to face the press but I think it's wise to wait until you're fully prepared."
The car circled the block before turning off down a narrow alley that ran behind the embassy building. It passed through a small garage door and Sadie squeaked in surprise when the platform beneath the car started lowering, bringing them down below the building into a basement level. When the elevator came to a halt she allowed the driver to help her out of the car and into a brightly lit, immaculate garage. At Nakia's urging, Sadie left her things to the driver to manage and she followed T'Challa into another smaller elevator that travelled up one floor and opened into a handsome foyer.
Sadie wanted to examine everything in sight, from the exotic flowers spilling out of hand painted vases to the artwork hanging from the walls. Tribal masks hung next to intricate tapestries representing a multitude of cheerful colors. She was drawn to the figurines lined up on the entry table set beneath an ornate mirror. Even the rug beneath her feet displayed an appealing geometric pattern of knots interlacing together. The entire foyer painted a pleasant picture of her surroundings and welcomed her with the little personal touches that the cavernous, sterile Avengers compound simply lacked. She turned to compliment T'Challa but discovered he was waiting for her in front of a set of double doors.
A small smile played at his lips. "You must be overwhelmed by so many changes in such a short time," the young king explained, a diplomat if Sadie ever met one. "Perhaps you might feel more at ease if you were among familiar company?"
T'Challa opened the doors and the whole world ground to a screeching halt. Sadie, who up until that point had been drawing closer to the doors, stood statue still. While astonishment rooted her feet to the floor she could see through the doorway to where a man rose from his seat. Every cell in Sadie's body vibrated in response to the man's sandy hair swept away from his clear face, revealing a strong jaw and dark eyes that warmed over at the sight of her. His mouth parted in soft surprise as he too drank in the sight of his friend. She raised a shaking hand to cover her mouth even as the first tears sprang to her eyes.
All she knew was everything else melted away and at the same time came into sharp relief. Before Sadie felt as though she'd been going through the motions, believing that her mystifying time jump was real and yet still waiting to wake up from the bad dream. She'd spent the days longing for any real connection to her previous life, any thread that would tie her back down to earth and make everything well and truly real for her.
Staring at Steve Rogers for the first time since their fateful parting in 1945 finally proved to Sadie that this wasn't a dream.
"Finally," she breathed.
And then she was moving, taking strides toward Steve at the same time he moved toward her. They collided in an audible exhale of relief. Sadie's arms went around his neck as he engulfed her in a brotherly embrace. Steve was so zealous in his greeting that he lifted her clean off her feet. Both of Sadie's shoes slipped off her feet and fell to the floor. He cradled her head as she buried her face in his neck to hide the tears that poured out of her eyes now and to muffle the sound that worked free of her lungs, caught somewhere between a sob and a laugh.
"I can't believe it's really you." Steve's voice was the sweetest sound she'd heard in an age and had she been standing, she would have collapsed in a heap. He hugged her so tight her ribs creaked but Sadie didn't dare loosen up or let go lest he disappear.
The decades of separation fizzled into nothing. Somewhere in the back of her head Sadie's last words to him echoed but she brushed them aside. There would be plenty of time to revisit the past and make amends for their wrongs. For now it was everything just to cling to her friend as he pulled her up to the surface. Even though her chest was compressed against his so tight she could barely move, Sadie felt as though she could finally breathe.
When Steve eventually set her down he moved to take her hands, laughing with her as she struggled to step back into her low heels. The need to hold him in her gaze overcame her. Steve just beamed down at her as she framed one side of his face with a trembling hand. She'd never appreciated him more than she did in that moment, appearing stronger and more handsome than ever. He was the life preserver she'd been searching for and his mere presence served as a balm for the worst of her wounds. Shaking her head, she allowed her face to split into a broad, watery smile.
"I knew it. I knew it was you when King T'Challa used that old SSR code word. Only you would think to do that to get a message to me."
"I'm just glad you remembered," Steve replied. "You have no idea how good it is to see you."
The joy of their long overdue reunion couldn't be repressed. Sadie cast aside her usual restraint in exchange for stepping forward and embracing Steve once more. For a long time they stood that way, basking in the sheer relief that flowed between them at seeing a familiar face at last. She didn't even realize that she'd started crying again until Steve cradled her head against his shoulder and wore a comforting path on her shoulder with his thumb.
"It's okay," he promised. "You're safe here. Everything's going to be okay."
And for the first time since Sadie woke up in this brand new world she finally believed it.
A/N: I'm not crying, you are. Next chapter picks up from here!
Loved it? Liked it? Sad to say goodbye to Rhodey and Tony for now? Super excited that Sadie and Steve are reunited? I'd love to know any and all of your thoughts! Much love - Kappa