It was getting dark when the party of four walked through the doors of a restaurant specialising in traditional Wakandan cuisine.
The host approached them, a warm smile on his face.
"Molo!" [Hello!] He said.
"An unsure and awkward chorus of 'hello's' sounded between Natasha, Steve and Sam, not understanding the man's greeting.
Jane stepped forward, smiling back at the host. "Unjani?" [How are you?]
"Ndiphilile. Wenaunjani?" [I am fine. How are you?] he asked in return.
"Nam ndiphilile." [I am also fine.] Replied Jane.
"Itafile ezine?" [Table for four?] He asked, looking them over as if to double check their count.
"Ewe Nceda." [Yes please.] Replied Jane, warmly.
The host made a motion for them to follow him.
"What just happened?" quipped Sam.
Steve stared at Jane as she walked out ahead of him, dumbstruck, and Natasha tried very hard to hide the look of surprise on her own face.
They arrived at a large, solid wood table with two chairs on each side.
"I didn't know you spoke Wakandan?" Said Steve to Jane as he sat down next to her.
"I can do a lot of things that you don't know about." She smiled at him.
Natasha bit her cheek, failing to contain the grin spreading on her face.
Sam was squinting at the menu as if some fault with his eyes was the reason he couldn't read what it said.
"You're gonna have to throw me a bone here," he said, still squinting.
Jane assumed her role as the interpreter with a characteristic poise, ordering a bottle of red wine and a beer for Sam, after describing to the others what was on the menu.
"Do you not like wine?" Jane asked Steve, curious.
"I like it as much as the next guy," he nodded looking at his glass of water.
"I can understand how a man might still enjoy a beer if he can't get drunk, but wine, not so much." Interjected Sam as the waiter poured wine for Jane and Natasha.
"What does this mean, 'to get drunk'?" asked Jane, intrigued.
"Drink up," smiled Natasha mischievously as she pushed Jane's glass closer to her.
Steve shot her a stern look. Sam chuckled.
"Oh relax," said Natasha to Steve's Captain face. "This is a welcome change from where we've been for the last couple of months."
"Sure is!" There was a massive grin on Sam's face as he appreciated the beer he'd just taken a sip of.
"Where have you been?" asked Jane.
"We've been on a mission to..." began Sam, before Natasha shushed him. "Not here," she whispered.
"Isn't Wakanda supposed the be like the safest place on earth?" argued Sam.
"It was," said Steve.
"What happened?" asked Jane.
"They opened it up to the rest of the world," answered Steve.
Jane frowned, unsure of what he meant. She picked up her glass and smelled the wine and her features came alive with curiosity. All three her dinner companions watched as she took a sip, a slight grimace on her face as she put the glass down, licking her bottom lip.
"What do you think?" asked Steve.
"It is like nothing I have ever tasted." She answered, their eyes locking for a moment before Steve looked away at his half-drunk glass of water.
They enjoyed a variety of traditional Wakandan dishes and after Sam had four beers and Jane and Natasha had finished the wine. They asked for the cheque.
"I feel... strange." Said Jane, chewing her bottom lip. "My lips feel numb."
"That's what it feels like to be on your way to getting drunk." Grinned Natasha "And by the looks of it you're a cheap date." She knew it would get under Steve's skin and he reacted just as she expected - a stern look with jaw clenched. She smiled at him coyly.
Jane gently touched her lips with her fingertips as if to check if everything was still where it's supposed to be.
They were on their way back to the apartment building by 21:30. Jane was humming a strange tune with a contented look on her face as she rested her head on the seat, staring out the window.
Natasha sat in the back, trying to figure out what song she was humming, becoming annoyed at not being able to figure it out. "What's that?" She said, shifting to the centre of the back seat. Jane sat up and turned as much as she could to face her.
"I don't know..." she said, frowning, "I just know it."
Natasha snapped into business mode. "Have you let her listen to any music at all?" She shot the question at Steve.
The frown on his face relaxed as he realised what Natasha was getting at.
"No, I haven't. There have been tunes on the television when we've watched but we've never sat down and listened to music."
"No one says television anymore," interjected Sam from the back seat.
Steve shook off the jab. "Does this mean what I think it means?" He asked Natasha, meeting her eyes in the rearview mirror.
"She's remembering." Said Natasha, looking at Jane.
The four made their way up to Jane's apartment in silence, there was a tension in the air.
Natasha leaned closer to Sam as they walked into the living room. "Go with her to take the dog to do his business. I need to talk to Steve."
Sam rolled his eyes at her before walking over to Jane who was dying to know what Natasha had meant in the car.
"Come on, let's take what's his name for a walk."
"It's Dog." Said Jane. Distractedly getting Dog's collar and leash.
"Yeah, I know it's a dog." Replied Sam as she led the way out of the apartment.
"No, his name his Dog." Steve heard Jane say as they walked away down the hall.
Natasha closed the door and turned to Steve.
"You know what this means right?" She said.
"You think the alcohol is making her remember." He answered flatly.
"Yes, I do."
"Nat, it could've been anything that triggered that memory, if it even was a memory, it might just be some song we've never heard."
She took a step closer to him, her face a little harder. "Steve, I know you don't believe in coincidences."
He clenched his jaw.
"There's a very simple way to test my theory." She raised her eyebrows at him.
He didn't like it.
"What's going on with you? You come to Wakanda for a couple of weeks and you're a complete mess over this girl?" she began to argue.
He turned and walked away from her a few steps, his hands on his hips. "It's complicated."
"Well, that's a start," and lowering her voice to a mutter, "at least you're not denying it."
"You should know why I can't act on it." He said, having heard every word she said.
"Really? Let me tell you what I know. You're doing what you always do, denying yourself what will make you happy for some moral code you feel obligated to uphold."
"I'm trying to protect her, from this life, my life. Everyone around me winds up getting hurt. I can't put her there."
Natasha sighed, exacerbated, throwing her one hand up in the air.
"Will you at least let me test my theory?" She asked.
"We don't know what effect getting her memory back is going to have on her. What if it's bad, Nat, what if knowing the truth breaks her?"
"I thought you'd learned your lesson about keeping the truth from the people you care about to protect them."
Of course, she'd use that - thought Steve as he closed his eyes and tilted his head away from her, clenching his jaw.
"You're not making her drunk." He said as he turned away.
"One or two shots won't make her drunk."
"Make who drunk?" Came Jane's voice from the doorway. She and Sam were back with Dog. She unclipped his leash and he trotted to his bed.
Steve rubbed the back of his neck. "No one, no one is getting drunk."
Sam looked from Natasha to Steve. "You're not seriously gonna do what I think you're gonna do?"
"Nobody's getting drunk," reiterated Natasha. "We just want to see if we're right about the alcohol triggering her memory."
Jane looked at Steve and then Sam and Natasha. "What?"
"We don't think the wine and the song are a coincidence." Stated Steve.
He looked at Jane who looked like she'd seen a ghost.
Natasha walked to the kitchen cabinet and retrieved the bottle of Wakandan Whiskey that was in all of their apartments as a gift from T'Challa.
She took a glass from the cupboard next to it and put it down on the counter, pouring the honey coloured liquid about half an inch.
"We're not sure this is what caused it, the only way to know is for you to drink it." Natasha pushed the glass toward Jane who looked at Steve. He had a familiar stern expression on his face, along with a trace of worry. He'd sat down at the kitchen table and was staring at the glass of Whiskey.
As Sam sat down next to him, folding his arms across his chest, Jane tipped the drink into her mouth and swallowed. A grimace following shortly after. She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth. Natasha poured another round and Jane didn't hesitate to drink it.
"That's enough." Said, Steve, as Natasha moved to pour another.
Natasha moved away from the counter and walked over to the table, sitting down opposite Steve.
"Now we wait." She said more to herself.
Two hours passed, but nothing happened. Sam had switched on the TV and fallen asleep. His head was resting on the back of the couch, his mouth open, snoring.
Natasha was pacing the room. Steve hadn't moved. Jane was a chair away from him, lying on her arms.
As the minute hand on the clock on the wall ticked to midnight, Steve spoke for the first time:
"Okay, that's it, I'm calling it."
Sam jerked awake and switched off the TV. He stretched as he got up, making a motion with his head for Natasha to leave with him. Through tired eyes, still resting on her arms, Jane watched as Natasha and Sam left, Sam, calling a "goodnight" over his shoulder.
Jane sat up, taking a deep breath.
"Time for bed," said Steve as he got up. He walked halfway around the table on his way to the door before he stopped. It looked like he wanted to say something more than just "goodnight."
"Goodnight Steve." She returned the greeting and he left.
Jane walked to her room. Her body tired and heavy as she switched off the lights. She kicked off her shoes and slid under the covers, not bothering to undress. She switched off the bedside lamp and was asleep before her arm could make it back under the covers.
Darkness stretched out on all sides, strewn with an infinite carpet of stars. She turned and saw a line of blurred figures behind her. She strained her eyes, but they remained blurred. She couldn't make out who or what they were. Inside her, she felt a hatred that was all consuming. She knew somehow that the line of figures was not like her and they meant her harm. She felt betrayal. If she could move, she would inflict on them her own intent to harm.
"You have been judged _." Boomed a huge voice in the void. She strained at the words but she could not make out her name.
In a flash of light, she was being pulled down, falling, falling for what seemed to be an eternity. She saw the earth and burned through its atmosphere like a falling star. Everything went black as she hit the surface.
When she woke, there was something in her throat, she struggled to breathe. Rolling onto her front she brought herself up to her knees and saw with horror that her hands were not hers, they'd transformed her.
Around her was desolation caused by her impact. Below her, deep under the ground, she could hear a deranged voice:
"Cleanse... them... all."
And then the figures were around her. Their blurred shapes towering into the sky. There was a sound like rock cracking deep beneath the earth and the deranged voice fell silent.
She could feel her life force being pulled out of her. It felt like her soul was splitting. She was gasping for air, clawing at her throat.
Then there was blackness that stretched on forever. She lay, paralysed in an impenetrable darkness. Slowly, over aeons, life faded from her, until there was nothing.
Jane rolled out of bed and fell to the floor. The impact ripped her from the nightmare, gasping for air, tears streaming down her face. She had never felt so afraid, so alone, such pain. Her hands grabbed her throat at the visceral memory of an object lodged there, of suffocating.
Dog was frantically pacing around her, unsure of what to do. A fresh wave of cold panic exploded in her chest and she stumbled to her feet. She ran out the door to her apartment and crashed into the door on the other side of the hall. She sank to the floor, pounding its surface with her first.
"Steve!" She sobbed. "Steve, please!"
Steve was startled out of his own nightmare by a hammering. He sat up and heard her voice. She was crying. Something was very wrong.
He flicked on the light and was at the door in two seconds flat, pulling it open, she collapsed over the threshold, her face wet with tears. He was down on the ground and pulling her into his arms. She pulled herself into him, burying her face in his chest, fingers pulling his shirt into her fists. She was strong. He held her tighter than he dared, but still, her sobs shook him; and he held her even tighter. Whispering in her ear:
"It's okay, you're okay."
He looked her over, trying to see if she was hurt, but all he saw was that her hair had gone a shade darker and there were strange red markings appearing down the back of her neck in a narrow line.
Steve watched as they darkened before his eyes. He pressed his face into her hair, willing whatever was upsetting her to stop. As the sobs began to subside he rose from the ground with her in his arms, closing the door behind him. He carried her to the couch and sat down with her in his lap. She pushed herself up off his chest and her eyes were filled with horror.
"Hey", he said gently, "what happened?"
She looked into his eyes and he watched as whatever it was crept up on her. She shook her head and collapsed into him, gasping for air.
"You're okay," he whispered. "I've got you."
His words seemed to soothe her and after a while, the only thing he could think of that made him feel better after one of his memory nightmares, was hitting something, but he didn't want to move. He relished the feeling of her in his arms. Dog had curled up next to them on the couch.
After a while, Jane pushed herself up. "I'm sorry." She said to him, her voice groggy.
"Don't be."
She gave him the smallest smile.
"Do you want to try and get some sleep?" he asked gently.
She shook her head vigorously, "No."
"Then there's only one thing for it." He said.
"Get your workout gear on. I'll meet you out in the hall."
She frowned at him, confused, but got up off the couch. Steve walked her to the door of her apartment where he assured her he would be once she was ready to go.
Half an hour later, at 3:15 am, Steve held the punching bag for Jane in the well outfitted communal gym for the apartment block.
"Just hit it as hard as you can." He encouraged her.
And she did.