T'Challa was running for his life now.
Behind him, his brothers turned enemies leapt through the forest, each twice as agile and swift as his own broken, staggering body.
He'd been betrayed.
T'Challa sat bolt upright, taking in a deep breath. It was okay. He'd-
He was sat in the roots of a tree, almost like a cat in a cave.
What was he doing in here?
Memories flooded back.
The metal man in their camp, spinning stories of how T'Challa planned war on Reed's camp. The look of fury in Hunter and Jakarra's eyes.
The boy with the metal arm, chasing him.
Poking his head out of a gap in the roots, T'Challa decided he was safe.
When he stood, he realised where he was; it was where he'd seen Wanda. The house wasn't too far away.
Staggering to his feet, T'Challa took inventory. Lots of cuts and bruises on his lower legs, and a few long, thin lacerations running across his arms. Memories filled his mind, running through holly and batting the leaves out of his way.
"Do you remember anything?" Steve asked T'Challa as Bruce set some weird-smelling kind of poultice on T'Challa's lacerated skin.
"I saw them talking to a metal man," T'Challa hissed, wincing visibly at the pain. "He was tall, and he had a boy with him. About Sam's height, with overgrown dark hair and a metal arm."
The hope on Steve's face soon dissipated. He had thought for a moment about the possibility of Bucky, but then discarded the idea. He had no metal arm, and would never willingly work with Ultron.
"So now we have a new housemate," Clint came in from the woods. "You're a permanent resident now?"
"It would appear so," T'Challa sighed, wincing when he tried to move. "Did you not bring news from Stonebridge? Or is that the incorrect name?"
"No, that's it. And yeah, everything's going so much better down there." Clint then heaved his backpack from his shoulders. "I didn't get to tell you earlier, Steve, but Pietro and I make an excellent stealing team."
"I'll forgive this for now," Steve said, immediately coming over at the sight of food. "How did you get all this?"
"All the farmers' kids have been trading what would have been the harvest. I think there's some kind of currency, but I'm not sure." Clint started to unpack the huge amounts of root vegetables, fruits and other goods that he and the speedster had stolen.
"Well, Chally, what's up with your Wa-clan-da?" Clint sat down heavily in the armchair across from T'Challa, pleased with himself at the play on words.
"Effectively, Jakarra and Hunter have been convinced that I am an awful leader who intends to start a war on your hometown." T'Challa sighed heavily, fiddling with the black mask in his hands.
"Who convinced them? I'm assuming it was somebody special." Clint grabbed a carrot straight from his pack and started eating it unwashed, much to the irritated protest of Steve, who spouted on about infection and disease.
"I believe a metal man should suffice." T'Challa sighed again.
"Ultron found the Wakanda family," Steve started. "No doubt he knows where we are, too. He's probably watching us as we speak."
"I guess our defense is a good offense, right?" Clint spoke, once he had swallowed a mouthful of the orange vegetable. "Unless you want to go braid each other's hair and sit in a field of flowers."
"I think that any action should be approved of by everyone in the house," T'Challa stated, ever the balancer. "Perhaps over your evening meal?"
"That sounds good to me. And look at all these wonderful vegetables we have to cook with," Clint called sarcastically, before making a retching noise and stepping out of the front door to gather the others.
"And how many are there in the house?" Ultron asked from his seat inside one of the Wakanda family's tents. His manipulation had gone easier than he expected; the ones named Hunter and Jakarra had quickly turned on their brother.
"I am not sure, but there are more than when I was there," Bucky replied. "At least two new additions, plus T'Challa, who I can confirm is taking shelter there."
Ultron nodded, his red eyes drifting to Bucky. "He made it to the house, then. I take it this was because of his superior climbing and leaping skills, not because of your friendship."
"We aren't, and weren't, friends." Bucky responded, his voice hollow.
"Alright. I recommend you rest, given our plans for tomorrow. I do not expect Rogers to escape." Bucky knew an escape opportunity when he saw one.
"Yes, I understand." He ducked out of the tent. Hopefully, his plan would work.
"Okay, everyone, hear hear," Clint stood up from his position around the bonfire, fork in one hand and cup in another.
"It doesn't quite work with a plastic cup and plastic fork," Tony shouted from his position next to Steve, who was eating like he'd never seen food before.
"Well, Mr Rogers, would you like to inform everyone of our new information on Ultron's plan?" Clint shouted, and the blonde went into an awkward coughing fit, which therefore sent Tony into hysterics.
"Charming," Natasha said, handing Steve a cup of water as he awkwardly tried not to vomit. "Clint, can you take the lead? I don't fancy being puked on."
"Alright, fine then." Clint took a deep breath. "Ultron's at the Wakanda family's camp, and has convinced them that T'Challa is a bad leader, and now he's been thrown out."
Everyone fell silent as Clint continued reeling off the current situation. He felt everyone's gazes passing him and turned-
Ultron's face was mere inches from his, but significantly higher.
"I appreciate your concerns, Mr Barton. But I'm afraid that you can't do anything."
Clint saw the blood before he felt the wound.
A/N: Sorry for the lack of updating! I've been really busy with juggling life stuffs. I'm also considering putting a second story up on here, a teenage-era Stony one? Paper Towns has inspired me :D